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Chapter Text

Keith felt the minor awe and confusion that had swept over the rest of the class as they watched McClain fly the simulator. It wasn’t a rare thing for first-year flight students to do since they watched their fellow and senior cadets fly multiple times a week, but what was rare was the fact that McClain was reaching minute five and hadn’t crashed.

Keith normally didn’t pay attention to his classmates beyond knowing who to avoid, a list that currently only had James Griffin and Commander Iverson on it. Both were vocal assholes and Keith had long since decided that he didn’t need people like that in his life.

McClain was vocal, but not a total asshole. He never pushed too far when yelling at Keith or do much more than challenge him to absolutely everything imaginable at every instance ever. Still, he was loud, annoying, and a terrible pilot that kept trying to goad Keith on in the first minute of practice before crashing in a way that would take down whoever was flying next to him that wasn’t Keith.

That was the reason Iverson gave when he kept pairing them up for doubles drills, maybe hoping that McClain would either calm down and follow Keith’s lead or crash them both in a dramatic and fiery wreck. Maybe it was because McClain was the only other person Iverson targeted when he wasn’t giving Keith those weird backhanded praises that were for Shiro more than they were for Keith. Iverson was asshole enough for it to go either way.

Keith would have felt smug about the blatant look of shock that was plainly on the Commander’s face while they watched McClain fly if he wasn’t fighting down one of his own. He almost let his blank mask slip when McClain reached minute six with a flourishing triple barrel roll, something Keith knew to not be easy with the clunky simulator controls, through the mountain range he was navigating.

The other students were all making noises of protests or incredulity and Keith kind of wanted to join them because what the fuck? McClain normally would have crashed before he even left the launch bay, but here he was, somehow approaching both the beginning of the next level and Keith’s top score.

He felt unease coil in his gut as McClain got closer and closer to a fork in the canyons that lead to either a steep climb or drop depending on which way you go. This was the furthest Keith had ever gotten and he knew from watching Shiro that while the climb was the best bet for breaking into clearer airspace. The timing was annoyingly tricky since the overhang only gave you about two seconds of wiggle room. The drop that everyone else went for would take you into a tighter network of walls and tunnels that were easier to navigate but took nearly three times as long to fly through.

Adam told him that Shiro was the only one who has ever managed to make that climb and Keith had silently vowed to be the next. His stomach clenched when McClain easily dodged a falling rock and selfishly wished that he hadn’t.

Keith always crashed at the overhang, his angles would be slightly off, and he'd be going too fast to try to right himself before flying face first into the ridge. It was annoying, but he took pride in the fact that he was the only one in his class to make it that far. Until now anyway.

Keith watched with nervous anticipation as McClain took the left to the climb, earning sounds of outrage from the students watching.

“No way.” Keith heard someone say. “No way is he going to make that.”

“I don’t know man, if I didn’t know any better, I'd think we were watching Shirogane fly.”

His mask cracked under the force of that comment. Like Shiro? McClain was flying like Shiro? People only ever said that about Keith and it always filled him with pride when it came from anyone who wasn’t Iverson. Now, this random crash-happy kid comes out of nowhere and is flying like Shiro?

What in the hell was happening?

Keith looks at the small square on the bottom right of the screen that displayed McClain’s face bright in the simulator’s lights. He's still wearing the same face had been for the past almost seven minutes. He looks like he wasn’t totally there with his distant eyes that were slightly glazed, but his brows were furrowed, and his jaw was tight. Keith was pretty sure he's never seen McClain shut his mouth, let alone for this long, but that look of almost concentration was both unnerving and something else Keith wasn’t sure about.

Everyone in the room had fallen silent, knowing that the vertical climb was approaching. There was a collective intake of breath when McClain slowed down a fraction and started angling up.

And then he crashed.

Shouts of disappointment and “I told you so” flew around Keith, but he didn’t pay them any real attention. His gaze was fixed on McClain’s face in the little box on the screen. He was sure everyone else missed it, focused on the flight itself instead of the pilot, but Keith saw.

He saw McClain suddenly blink out of the half daze he was in as he was angling. He saw his eyes widened a fraction as he approached the overhang. He saw when McClain realized he was going to make it. And then he saw McClain jerk the handle just enough to fly headfirst into the overhang. On purpose.

Iverson had managed to school his face back into that look of vague disapproval he was probably born with by the time the sim opened to let McClain out. The half-dazed look was back on his face as Iverson gave him the rundown of his performance.

Honestly, Keith wasn’t sure what exactly Iverson was correcting since from where Keith stood, the only mistake McClain had made in the last seven minutes was sabotaging himself right at the end. Because that's what he did, Keith was so sure of that.

He glared at McClain while Iverson continued to try and rip into him before he suddenly stopped. He stood back from McClain, eye narrowed and annoyed. “Care to repeat that, Cadet?”

McClain’s eyes were still unfocused, but they met Iverson’s anyway. He repeated himself, but just as quietly and it was in the din of silence that Keith distantly realized he had never heard when McClain was in the room.

Well, whatever he said had Iverson made a face that was shocked, irritated, and… worried? Keith wasn’t even sure how to decipher that when Iverson took a step back to allow McClain down. A gruff “Head to the infirmary, Cadet.” Was all he said before shouting the next name on the list of students set to fly today.

The crowd shifted around as McClain cut through towards the door, all of them obviously wanting to talk to the boy, but it seemed as if they were put off by either the look in his eye or Iverson’s order. Keith didn’t move from his spot and that put him at the front of the gap that the students made and gave him a clear view of McClain’s face.

He didn’t look sick, just a bit out of it. It was almost familiar and Keith, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why. That almost dread that had been pooling in Keith’s gut as he watched McClain nearly beat his score shifted and jumped when their eyes finally met.

McClain’s eyes were dark, and his pupils were smaller than they should be in the artificial light of the room, but they dilated when they landed on Keith. McClain stumbled and came to a standstill, mouth falling open just a bit as his eyes kept flicking from Keith’s eyes to his cheek, then his shoulder, and then back to his eyes again. It put Keith more on edge than it probably should, but something about this whole thing was unsettling and he hated it.

“What?” Keith barked, glare hardening with his voice.

To Keith’s satisfaction, McClain flinched back at the word. To Keith’s dissatisfaction, the other boy slowly began to smirk after blinking away the rest of the daze he seemed to be in. He looked Keith over, eyes roaming from his shoes to his brows, down to his neck, then back up to stay fixed on his eyes and with that stupid smirk growing ever more slightly with each passing second.

“What's my name?” He suddenly asks, his voice was less screechy than Keith remembered, but still cracking like all other boys around them. McClain’s smirk dropped a bit at the break in the last word but he visibly brushes it off to focus even more intensely on Keith.

Keith, for his part, was even more confused about what was going on but answered anyway. “McClain.”
McClain’s smirk grew just a touch more. “Yeah, that's my surname.” He takes a step closer and it takes more effort than Keith is willing to admit to not take one back. “But what's my given name?”

Keith felt the scowl forming on his face and doesn’t fight it. His given name? How the hell was he supposed to know? “I don’t know.”

The smirk is still there, but it doesn’t reach McClain’s eyes anymore. It throws Keith off enough for him to drop the scowl and wonder, once again, what the fuck was happening right now.

“You really didn’t know…” McClain mumbles like an afterthought, eyes sadder than Keith is sure that not knowing McClain’s name warrants and it agitates him.

“We all go by rank and surnames anyway. Why bother learning given names?” Keith grumbles out.

McClain blinks in response and the moment is broken. The smirk is back in his eyes and it somehow balances something inside Keith while simultaneously shoving him firmly off kilter.

McClain takes another step, this time towards the door. The crowd that Keith didn’t notice closing in on them and watching whatever this had been starts shifting again, making an even larger gap around McClain.
Keith keeps expecting McClain to stop at some point on his way to the door, to turn around, dramatically announce his whole name, and declare Keith an enemy like they do in the movies.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t turn when he reaches it. He doesn’t turn after swiping his access card to open it. He doesn’t even glance back while walking through and towards what Keith guessed to be the infirmary.

McClain didn’t turn back once, and Keith spends the rest of the day trying very hard not to think about that.

Chapter Text

Keith kept an eye on McClain after that.

He learned from the other cadets barely a second after the other boy left that McClain’s given name was Lance. He learned that while McClain was at the bottom when it came to flight scores, he ranged just above the middle of the pack for most of their other classes and was top in history. He learned that McClain flirted shamelessly with all the female students. He learned that McClain was a veritable motormouth when it came to his family and everything everyone in it has ever done ever.

But then he stopped.

Figures that the moment Keith tries to learn more about someone, they have a drastic shift in personality. The fact that said change was the reason he was even interested didn’t occur to him at all. Nope. Not at all.

Although from what Keith could tell, all that happened was that McClain shut his mouth and got more serious. He was still more outspoken than Keith, but most people were so that doesn’t really count. What does count is the significantly quieter atmosphere of the class and the unease in everyone around him. You’d think he’d gone mute from the way everyone reacted whenever he didn’t say anything let alone the sudden attention he got when he did decide to be heard.

For the rest of the week after the simulator, Keith kept a very close eye on McClain alongside his dozens of peers. He took note of the big kid that McClain sat with alone at lunch and added a footnote about the full table of what Keith was pretty sure were former lunch buddies. He took note of the sudden stillness McClain suddenly had, a complete 180 from the jitteriness he distinctly remembered the other boy getting chewed out for on multiple occasions. He took note of an older girl that he had never really seen around but shared McClain's sharp features, tan skin, and blue eyes. Shiro said her name was Veronica and to try and avoid her if Keith valued his health. She was apparently McClain’s older sister.

He would often catch McClain staring off into nothing, eyes not quite as unaware of his surroundings as he was that first day, but close enough that Keith felt tense. It seemed to happen most often when McClain was being ignored, like not being engaged gave him the chance to slip off into his own head. During class, meals with large groups, study hours in the library, the second round of flight sims for that week, even the brief moments between when the people around him would say something to him and then turn to each other to talk.

Keith had no idea where he went during the free hours before curfew, but it was clear that those were different now too if the grumbling he heard from the groups that kept trying to engage McClain was any indication. He had a feeling that McClain just stayed in his room if he stayed on campus at all.

Keith knew that McClain was one of the main distributors of any contraband or non-Garrison items despite being a first-year. He didn’t know how he was able to sneak off campus with all the security, let alone sneak back into a literal Military Compound, but it was impressive. If it was true.

It wasn’t until that Saturday came around that Keith had an idea of what might be wrong with McClain when some of the Cadets were free to use the long weekend to visit home. He didn’t have a reason to be anywhere near the “rendezvous point” for the families and cadets. His wandering tended to carry him into faraway places he had no business being often enough to be labeled as a “flight risk” by his Social Worker. He was just lucky that he didn’t end up near the vehicle bay. Didn’t need Iverson thinking he was trying to steal one of the cars. Again.

So, while Keith wasn’t surprised to find himself nowhere near the canteen as he planned, he was grateful it was at least in an authorized zone. He was less thankful when he caught sight of the first teary-eyed mother gripping what was probably their kid. There was always some part of him that hated how he would get jealous of other families. The child therapist he was still forced to see told him it was natural like Keith couldn't figure that out for himself.

Honestly, he knew he had issues and that all of them were because of his absent mom or the fact his dad was a "criminal." He thought that they should really focus on trying to fix the homes they send kids instead of the kids themselves. It'd be a better use of their money.

It was these thoughts that let Keith show his distaste at the families crowding the lobby and making more noise than necessary. He was just thankful that some were already making their way out and turned around to do the same when he caught sight of them.

He had heard that McClain had a big family, but he didn't think there would be so many.

Keith spied an older man with a goatee and McClain's complexion and an arm around a very pregnant woman that must have been his wife. An older teen with McClain's face and lighter skin slouched next to a couple and was visibly being talked at by a frowning Veronica but straightened up when he was elbowed by the young woman that looked like a livelier version of who had to be their older sister. An elderly couple that could honestly be anyone's grandparents was chuckled at the trio as they smiled that vaguely happy smile old people sometimes have. They were all looking at the bundle of limbs less than a foot away.

There was a dewy-eyed woman with fair skin and reddish hair that stood close to a tan, balding, and bearded middle-aged man that kept hugging the boy that stood at the center of them all.

McClain's face was buried in what had to be his father's chest and Keith felt a spike of that ugly jealousy burn through him. He doesn't understand why McClain thought showing off his almost offensively large family would win him any favor with anyone, but it did not with Keith. He had only managed to take a step towards the exit when McClain lifted his face and stopped Keith in his tracks.

He had been crying.

His face was shiny and red in a way that Keith knew meant that McClain had actually been sobbing in his father's arms. He didn't even seem to care about the bewildered faces around the group when he suddenly turned and almost threw himself at the elderly couple. The man with the goatee was quick to support them all when McClain had almost knocked them to the ground and Keith could almost hear the mother scolding her son for not being more careful with the clearly fragile pair. He saw her eyes soften as McClain's shoulder shook hard enough for Keith to see from the doorway.

Keith wasn't sure why, but the ugly feelings squirming in his gut turned into a pang in his heart. He brought his hand up to rub at his chest as he watched them all converge on the still tearful boy who was now in his mother's arms and wondered what had broken the other boy so thoroughly.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see Shiro gazing at the family with the same concerned look that Keith could feel on his own face. Shiro's eyes met his and the look turned into something warmer.

"Hey, wanna go have lunch in town?" Shiro's gentle voice offered.

Keith would normally refuse, knowing that Shiro was busy and that town would be full of his classmates' families, but he suddenly didn't want to be on his own right now.

"Sure."

The warm look grew into one of surprise for a second before a genuine smile broke out on Shiro's face and the pair started walking towards the faculty car park. Keith gave the McClain family one final glance and felt a different kind of squeeze around his heart as McClain's still wet gaze met his own and the other boy gave him a brilliant smile.

Keith now had a head full random details about this random kid but kept feeling that none of this was random at all. 

For the next six weeks, Keith kept hearing whispers about McClain’s sudden change although no one mentioned the scene he made during the last family visiting day. Students came up with ridiculous theories about body snatchers and sleeper agents while the staff revived their “Get Caught, Get Expelled” anti-cheating speech at the beginning of every quiz or test. That only lasted about two weeks and Keith wasn’t sure what happened, but they spent the next two weeks talking about promotions before suddenly dropping that too.

It seemed that everyone liked this new McClain more, making him popular in a way Keith recognized from Shiro and causing that weird mix of not-quite-guilt and definite-dread to swirl in his gut. Iverson was outwardly the most immune to whatever changes McClain made and led the staff against him with a determination that Keith did not even want to understand.

McClain still gave out compliments, but they seemed less mocking and flustered the person more than the pickup lines Keith vaguely remembers hearing him use in the past.  He vividly remembers nearly having a minor heart attack when McClain made him Center forward during Team Sports since Keith was “the best attacker of their year,” giving the softest and most confident smile/smirk ever. Keith fought off that blush with a full battalion when it happened but couldn’t do it again when he saw that same look tinged with happiness as it was directed his way after they won the match and their team was celebrating. He can still picture the way that smile had curved enough for a dimple to appear as McClain clapped a burning hand onto Keith’s shoulder as he practically sang “We make a good team.” With a secret laugh in his eyes, fond kindness in his voice and all of it, for one awful moment, was directed at Keith.

He couldn’t look at McClain for the rest of the week without his cheeks heating up like the traitors they were.

By the end of week seven, everyone calmed down when it came to McClain. Even Keith felt less on edge when it was time to fly the sims since McClain still crashed every single one. Sure, he still flew like a totally different person, being able to weave in and out of maneuvers with Keith when they were teamed up like they had been doing it for years and leveling up for almost five solid minutes before crashing. He was still crashing on purpose too and it rankled Keith something fierce that he couldn’t figure out why.

Still, it’s been almost two months and Keith figured he could calm down when McClain didn’t do anything else beyond comprehension.

Until he did.

Chapter Text

Keith’s shoulder barely hurt from the jostle it got when Griffin shoved him against the wall, but the action was enough to annoy Keith into wanting to punch the dickhead in the face. Again. Although, it never really takes much for Keith to want to punch Griffin in the face. The only things that really stopped him from doing it were Shiro’s warning about the Garrison’s discipline policy and the tall boy standing behind Griffin.

The other boy was new to Keith, someone he vaguely knew was in their year, but not their flight class. He had dark skin and gray eyes that regarded Keith with vague indifference and not much else. He was turned away from Griffin in a way that practically screamed ‘I don’t want to be here or a part of this,’ but didn’t really make any moves to stop Griffin other than an unimpressed look and taking two large steps back. He didn’t say a word and didn’t look like he was going to start as his eyes flickered over the other students walking towards the barracks in the after-dinner crowd.

“Watch where you’re going, Kogane.” Griffin spat at him.

Keith just gave him a flat look. “We’re all going in the same direction and I was in front of you.”

Griffin’s face twisted further into a sneer. “Always got to be ahead of everyone right?” He opened his mouth to say something else, hands out to push Keith back into the wall when he suddenly pitched forward.

Griffin stumbled fully into his space, his hands came to the wall on either side of Keith’s shoulders and forehead nearly touching his sternum. His eyes came up to meet Keith’s for half a second before it contorted into a scowl and Griffin swiveled to the new figure that neither of them noticed approaching them.

“Did you hit me in the back of the knee?” Griffin asked McClain. Because of course, it’s McClain.

McClain just raised an eyebrow in question, the ever-present smirk on his face not even dimming while he stood a good few inches over Griffin. “Uh, no? I mean, I totally get being weak-kneed around Ke-ogane, but you’d have better luck if you owned up to your gay crisis than channel it like this.”

Keith’s eyes widened, he wasn't sure whether to flush at the compliment from McClain or be disgusted at the idea of being Griffin’s gay awakening. He decided to do neither and turned back towards the barracks to try to slip away when McClain started talking over Griffin’s outraged sputters.

“Anyway, I’m here for Kinkade,” McClain said flippantly as he turned to the guy that was with Griffin. “I wanted to talk to you about the exemption for Weapons Instruction.”

Keith paused his escape and looked at the dark-skinned boy, Kinkade apparently, to see his eyes widen and then narrow at the proclamation. Kinkade gave McClain an obvious once over before finally responding with a riveting “Why?”

The smirk on McClain’s face grew a little more like he was more amused by Kinkade’s standoffish attitude than anything else. “I wanted to get exempted from the Weapons Course, but Iverson wouldn’t even tell me whether I needed to talk to the instructor or the admin office about that, so I thought I’d ask the only other student in our year that was exempting it.”

Keith felt his eyebrows shoot up as he straightened in… he wasn’t sure. In offense that Iverson’s methods of bullying might be progressing beyond verbal barbs and into something affecting McClain’s actual life? The shock that this random guy that Griffin picked up was slotted for an exemption for a course they’re set to start next year? That McClain thought he was good enough to get exempted too?

“You…” Kinkade started, pulling Keith out of his internal debate. “Want to skip to the field experience?”

McClain hummed before shifting his weight, propping one hand onto a jutting hip. “No, I want to test out of the whole course.” He pauses for a moment, gaze somehow turned challenging despite nothing on his face changing. “Like you.”

Kinkade instantly stiffened against the wall he was leaning on like he’d been hit with a cattle prod. “Like me.” He said like a statement, no inflection anywhere to hint at his reaction.

“Yup,” McClain said, popping the p. “So, can you help me out or will I have to play ‘office shuffle?'”

The silence in the hallway was oddly intense and made Keith want to fidget. He didn’t, but it was a near thing.

“You have to literally test out of it,” Griffin interjected, barging back into both the conversation and McClain’s eyeline. “You have to take the written, field handling, and maintenance tests along with the precision practical.” McClain didn’t even seem to notice him as he kept his eyes fixed on Kinkade above Griffin’s head.

Another moment of heavy silence rolled by before Kinkade nodded his head once. “Yes.”

“Great! So, who do I go to sign up for all of that?” McClain almost sang.

Kinkade’s eyes narrowed again before he finally moved towards the group, forcing Griffin to jump back in Keith’s direction when he didn’t stop until he’s barely a step away from McClain.

“You’re challenging me.” Another statement, but Keith can hear the barest hint of skepticism that laced it this time.

“I’m challenging you.” McClain confirmed with all the flippancy he’s shown until now, but the same brand of steel in his eyes and voice that Keith remembers lining his jaw during that memorable day in the flight simulator.

“Streak and distance?” Kinkade shot immediately.

“Yours?” McClain returned just as quickly.

There’s another standstill as the tension started to almost visibly swirl around the two of them. Keith is stock still while Griffin kept shifting from foot to foot in what was probably agitation.

Keith didn’t know anything about Kinkade’s skill level, but he knows Griffin well enough to know that he doesn’t brag if he can’t deliver and is more likely to surround himself with similar people. He tried to get Keith for that reason, but Keith had issues with being ‘collected’ and Griffin had issues with being rejected. Either way, if Kinkade says he’s good enough to get exempted from five years of weapons training, then he probably is.

And so is McClain, apparently.

“I’m taking the practical at the end of this week.” Kinkade said, breaking into the silence. “Junior Officer Walker helped me with the tests, but the practical is being overseen by Commanders Iverson and Richards.”

“Alrighty, know where I can find Officer Walker?”

“Northern Officer’s Lounge.”

“And if he’s not there now?”

“He’s usually there after meals.”

“Did he proctor your exams or just helped you register for them?”

“Both.”

“What about signing up for the practical?”

“He got us an hour in the range to do a prelim before signing off on it.”

“Do I need the recommendation?”

“No.”

“Cool. Thanks, man!” McClain’s smirk morphed into a sincere smile so quickly that it startled everyone out of the verbal tennis match. Kinkade even took a step back, creating an opening for McClain to slip through easily. He was halfway down the hall, heading in the direction of the Northern Lounge before Keith realized that it was long beyond the time for him to leave, but then McClain made a surprised sound before he got the chance.

McClain spun on his heel just before the intersection in the hall and faced the three of them, hands up in a pair of finger guns that are somehow not as stupid looking as they probably should have been. “See you at the practical.” He crows with a wink and a smirk as he disappeared around the corner.

Chapter Text

Keith wasn’t sure when his ears started twitching at the barest mention of McClain, but the week following that episode in the hall had everyone gossiping anew. There was a kind of excitement in the air, spreading from the students to the staff and back again until everyone was talking about the ‘battle’ coming up at the end of the week.

McClain had apparently found Adam that same night but had somehow gotten Shiro, of all people, to recommend him for the practical. Keith only saw Shiro on Sundays for their ‘Brogane Bonding Binges’ as Shiro and only Shiro called them, so he won’t even be able to ask the very necessary ‘what the fuck?’ until after the practical is over.

Keith really wasn’t sure what to feel when he saw McClain’s empty seat in class for the next two days, especially when the Professors say he’s been excused for testing. Keith isn’t sure what to make of McClain’s undying smirk when as he walked in on day three but did mirror it when Iverson’s face screwed up while he announced that the practical at the end of the week will be open for viewing and that there will be two cadets from their year participating. He definitely isn’t sure how to feel when he saw Shiro standing behind McClain and Adam stood behind Kinkade while Keith was being semi-smushed by their whole year as they crowded one side of the Garrison’s mid-tier weapons range platforms behind the line set by the Garrison cameramen.

The flat plains stretch out in front of them straight to the horizon, overlooking the large gun range housed at the back of the compound. It’s a familiar sight that Keith took comfort in as he told himself that he was just there for Shiro and not to see exactly what kind of hype McClain was trying to live up to.

He waved at Shiro when their eyes met just to confirm it, but then McClain saw him wave and lifted his hand like he was going to return it. Keith’s hand was down faster than if someone snapped an anchor to it and McClain’s smirk faltered just the briefest moment. But then Keith saw him turn just enough to catch as Shiro's arm fell and the smirk was back in full force.

Scratch that.

It was back with a vengeance when McClain somehow managed to catch Keith’s eye and he winked. He barely heard the sudden increase in the pitch of the conversation around him, not when his pulse was so much louder and faster than it really needed to be right then. Not when the test hasn’t even begun.

Keith put on the blankest expression he could manage while he totally ignored the Cheshire grin on the boy that still looked at him and the confused but amused expression on the man behind that same boy. He was air. He was the earth. Keith was no longer there.

He managed to block out most of the technical stuff the Commanders gave them. He got the gist of the exam though and felt a little comfort at the idea of what he was expected to tackle in five and a half years. Five and a half years that McClain had opted out of.

Each participant would be given one hundred rounds of ammo. Their priority targets would be the dime-a-dozen drones the Garrison used for moving target practice as they came in from every direction in their eye line, one hundred in total. They had to take down the drones outside of the guarded space that ranged roughly half a mile from the compound since that space would be labeled as ‘civilian territory’ and points would be deducted if any debris fell within range. If any drones made it past the halfway point of civilian territory where they would be too close to the compound to shoot down safely, points would be deducted. Their secondary targets were ten terrorists within civilian territory, each with at least one hostage and staggering timers that would go off at random times during the test. These targets counted as extra credit and were labeled as “collateral damage” if they weren’t saved in time.

That irked Keith enough to come out of his blank state and was glad to see the same distaste on McClain’s face. They were only given enough rounds to take down the drones and that’s only if they don’t miss a single shot. Realistically, there would be a team of snipers, each prioritizing a sector of sky or land, and have more than just the minimum amount of ammo, but the Garrison is full of assholes, so they made the test as difficult as possible. Oh, and they only had half an hour each to finish it.

Kinkade went first by virtue of alphabetical order. He opened the case that he had strapped to his back and pulled out an admittedly nice-looking rifle that was probably custom made. What kind of person would give a thirteen-year-old a sniper rifle was beyond even Keith and his Texan origins, but at least he had the comfort of knowing Kinkade knew how to use it from how he quickly he set up his rig. He finished off by clapping the muffs over the plugs everyone there was given that were already in his ears, and then lay down while he kept his eyes on the horizon.

There was silence for the first two minutes as everyone waited for the starting call. The first gunshot startled the crowd, some of the cadets behind Keith even fell into each other while they tried to suppress the instinctual need to run from the nearly deafening sound.

There was a faint whistling sound that Keith was sure he had imagined and then a muffled, but visible explosion of the first downed drone just over a mile out. It was an impressive start since Keith couldn’t even tell the drones were that close from his vantage point. Kinkade, however, didn’t seem to think that was enough.

He started a steady stream of shots, barely shifting in his perch, but somehow sent shots with at least a sixty-degree arc between them and hit drones every ten seconds at minimum. He kept it up, never breaking stride for almost twenty minutes for anything other than the seamless swap of the magazine, sweat visibly collected on his brow from both the stress of focusing so long and the desert heat. He flagged a little then, body going lax against his will and let the last squad of drones break the mile line he had been holding. Kinkade visibly took a shuddering breath before he forced himself back into position to deliver the last string of shots in rapid succession. The last of the drones fell a few hundred feet from the half-mile marker, but still well outside of civilian territory.

The crowd was silent as Kinkade rose to his knees and disassembled his rifle like he hadn’t just taken a hundred shots in twenty-five minutes. There was a whoop that sounded like Griffin from far off on Keith’s right near the Officer’s section and then suddenly everyone cheered and cooed, amazed at the near-flawless performance. Even Keith found himself clapping as he wondered where in the hell Kinkade learned to shoot and how in the fuck McClain was going to top that. Because one thing was certain, McClain was going to top that.

Keith saw it in the ease in McClain’s stance as he applauded alongside everyone else like Kinkade was the main event, but the steel in his eyes, the sharpness of his smirk, said something else. Kinkade might have been the main event, but McClain was the showstopper.

He saw Shiro place a familiar sympathetic hand onto McClain’s shoulder and felt a kind of kinship with the startled confusion Shiro’s face twisted into when McClain just shot him a confident smirk paired with another set of those stupid finger guns. McClain slipped out of the hold and walked right up to Kinkade, offering a high five and a smile, seemingly unaware of the abrupt silence he brought with every step.

“Dang, man. That was impressive!” McClain said, voice a gunshot without a muffler, smile free of mockery and full of the same ease he had when answering questions in class or giving Keith a “good morning” before breakfast.

“Thanks.” Kinkade said a little uneasily after a long moment. There was another beat before he returned the high-five McClain still held up for him.

The smile turned feral so quickly that even Adam flinched away. Keith felt something grip his throat as the unheard declaration rang through the air.

My turn.

McClain strode past the group, towards the Official’s section where the bigger boy that he was often seen with during meals stood a bit apart from the crowd. The boy looked anxious enough that Keith could believe he was holding onto McClain’s nerves for him but was a little shocked to see the jitters melt away into a fond kind of exasperation the closer McClain got to him. His confidence was contagious, apparently. The big boy swung a case that was similar, but smaller than Kinkade’s from behind his back and handed it over with ease.

“Thanks, Hunk.” McClain said, either oblivious or just ignoring all the eyes on them.

“No problem, dude.” Hunk, what kind of name was Hunk? replied. The fondness turned stern for a moment. “Don’t break it.”

McClain just laughed like he wasn’t about to try and one up a literal perfect score for a test that could make or break his future at the Garrison. “I trust your skills, man. It won’t break on me.”

Keith felt the wave of indignance rise through the crowd as it carried him at the crest. Trust his skills? Was he seriously using a gun that was apparently modified by a fellow first-year Cadet?! Keith looked to Shiro who wore an expression that just screamed ‘welp. I tried to stop it and that didn’t work so now we’re all going to live with this moment in our history forever.’ Which meant that he at least knew that this was a thing that could and was happening. Iverson looked angrier than Keith had ever seen him, but he was held back by the single hand from the smaller, but no less intimidating Commander by his side. Rivers? It’s something with an R. Maybe.

The crowd quieted again but left a noticeably larger gap around Hunk as McClain made his way to the edge of the platform where he stood in the spot Kinkade sat before he stuck his long leg straight out of his side and took a dramatic step to the right. There was a collective huff and Keith came to the realization that McClain was playing the crowd flawlessly, every reaction was planned for, cultivated by the barest tilt of his head or whisper of his word. He’s been doing it ever since he walked out of that simulator, met Keith’s eyes, and made him pay attention. He did it to Kinkade to get the chance to take this impossible test. And he’s about to do it again.

Keith was very sure he wasn’t the only one who nearly vibrated with anticipation as they watched McClain open the case, but he was the only one other than Shiro, Kinkade, and that Hunk kid whose face didn’t fall at the sight of the underwhelming rifle, with a weird-looking silencer that made Keith think of elephant trunks, and the bigger than normal multicolored scope. This was planned for and Keith had only just begun to understand that McClain’s plans had more layers for a much longer game than Keith could fathom.

McClain clicked the first magazine in place, kicked another to his left with the muffs he was foregoing and left the last two refills on his right. He crouched onto a single knee and dropped no further as his rifle swiveled around a little wildly like he was trying to get a grip on it while he squinted through the scope. Keith felt more than heard some of the cadets behind him start to snicker when a muted pop sounded into the air.

Keith dug one of the plugs out of his ear after seeing Shiro and then the Commanders do the same as four more pops filled the platform. It wasn’t much louder than the kind of sound you might hear when someone dropped a flight manual flat onto the ground, but the fact that it was a powerful rifle that could normally shatter untempered glass with its sound waves was beyond impressive. Keith’s eyes flickered to Hunk in the space between two pops to see the smug awe on the other boy's face that made it clear who was responsible for that feature. He turned back to the horizon to gauge where McClain set the line when three more bangs sounded off.

“Hostages secured.” McClain’s voice cut through the fog that had settled around the crowd and stirred them back up into a frenzy. A quick glance at the Officials showed a prideful smile on Shiro’s face and the exact opposite on Iverson’s. Keith’s matching smile shifted to a smirk.

McClain quickly detached the silencer and slid on his muffs with a single hand while the other still had the heavy rifle trained on the horizon with finger off the trigger. He grabbed the magazine on his left and put the strap of it in his teeth which left the long block to sway against his front. He shifted his position and stood once more where Kinkade had lain. His shoulders stayed down even as he brought the rifle up, but his feet adjusted minutely so his left was braced behind him, towards the crowd.

He should have looked ridiculous, but he didn’t. Keith should be voicing the same criticisms as everyone around him, but he didn’t. Shiro should have told McClain that he was doing it wrong, but he didn’t.

McClain stood there and looked stronger than anyone that skinny had any right, somehow already having Keith’s trust that he would hold that line all alone for as long as it was needed.

A deafening shot filled the air and shocked Keith into stuffing his plugs back into his ear. His eyes were back to the skies once the ringing stopped and saw small explosions much further behind the line Kinkade set. There was a string of them that popped in a bright diagonal that reminded Keith of fireworks as he flinched a bit when a long crash finally reached him. Wait.

Three more shots in another direction, but six bursts flared on the far right. A single shot to the left, four flares followed seconds after. McClain kept shooting an uneven, but not erratic staccato that left Keith waiting between breaths for the next as his heart jumped with each pulled trigger and fell back with the stream of debris almost a mile and a half out.

Keith wasn’t sure how long McClain kept it up. The random shots stuttered his internal clock just enough that he was sure he was off by a few minutes at least and the strings of explosions in the far distance made it hard to figure out what McClain’s best was, let alone his average per shot. Still, he didn’t stop, the strain of such an intense exercise showed more in his backfoot than his shoulders. Keith couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he kind of needed to. Just a glimpse.

He moved diagonally through the crowd without taking his eyes off McClain and somehow ended up in the gap next to Hunk whose smug awe from earlier had shifted into almost starry-eyed amazement. When Keith caught sight of McClain’s face, he couldn’t blame the bigger boy at all.

McClain’s face was starkly different from what Keith was used to seeing. Until this moment, the most serious Keith has ever seen McClain was when they flew their first paired exercise since that fateful day in the simulator. The look from then was more aware than the one from that first day, but still had a note of playfulness that came out in full force when Keith tried to break formation to go off on his own. McClain just laughed and followed Keith flawlessly until they were flying in new formations that Keith definitely did not remember talking about. They spent the rest of the flight playing some weird game of tag with McClain always being ‘it’ that took them to the edges of the digital map and completely off their objective path. They got a telling off for the records after that and haven’t tried again since, but it was the most fun Keith will forever deny having.

That brief look of seriousness had nothing on the sight before Keith now. Every inch of McClain’s face looked as if it was cast in a fiery copper. The light of the sun and the red dust of the plains reflected onto his face, blending with their awful orange uniform and somehow gave McClain a subtle glow. His eyes constantly shifted, his mouth barely moved, his hair was tousled around his face and his brows didn’t even twitch when another shot sounded.

Keith could see the recoil push against McClain. No, not against, through McClain. It passed like vibrations in the water as it went down his torso, his legs, and into the ground below. It shouldn’t be possible. The force of it should have sent him flat on his ass even when he was crouched, let alone standing unaided, but didn’t. Another glance to Hunk when the brief thought of what might have been done to maximize firepower, while minimizing recoil had Keith deciding that McClain was definitely better at picking out talent than Griffin and had more than enough skill to back himself up.

Keith had just fallen back into the haze that McClain had cast over the crowd when he suddenly dropped the rifle to his side. He spun on his back foot with a ridiculous twirl that was somehow too graceful to be the mocking it should have been especially when he gave a bow to the Officer’s section to Keith’s right, one ankle crossed in front of the other, rifle loosely held behind his back, and empty hand outstretched to the rest of the students. He tilted his face up but didn’t rise from his bow even as his eyes locked briefly with Keith’s for a heart-stopping moment before it moved to the Commanders.

“Line held.”

The crowd burst like the drones, outrage and cheers creating a cacophony that made Keith thankful for his plugs. McClain didn’t rise from the bow until Shiro started to approach him. Or maybe tackled was a better word.

Keith was pretty sure that Shiro didn’t know who McClain was until earlier this week beyond him being one of Keith’s classmates and then the target of all kinds of rumors over the past two months. As he watched Shiro nearly lift McClain in a congratulatory hug, Keith felt equal parts envy, irritation, and pride. He had just decided to put that mess to the side for later when a boulder crashed into McClain. He was being spun in the air by the time that Keith had realized that it was Hunk who literally cried with happiness and babbled into McClain’s shoulder. McClain seemed to take it in stride and just patted Hunk on the cheek with his free hand, awkward angle be damned. The envy flared again briefly in Keith’s chest and he shoved it down further.

He finally got it under control when Kinkade, followed by Adam and Griffin, stupid Griffin, made his way over to the group. The crowd fell silent once more, but the tension Keith expected wasn’t there, not on the sniper’s side anyway. The crowd’s tension broke when Kinkade smiled. Honest to god, smiled.

“Dang, man.” His voice reverberated, smile turning a little sharper. “That was impressive.”

McClain smiled back without missing a beat, hand already raised to meet Kinkade’s in a high-five. “Thanks.”

“If you’re done,” Iverson said, breaking into the moment before the audience could react like the mood killer he is. “Cadet McClain should disassemble and clear out.”

McClain stood so firmly at attention, gave the Commander such a sharp salute with such a flat “Sir! Yes, sir!” that Keith knew he had to be mocking him. He sniggered just under his breath when Iverson’s face tightened even more at the realization that McClain didn’t technically do anything wrong.

He dropped to the case still at his feet and was disassembled and packed in under ten seconds, not even giving the Commander the chance to turn away before he called out another sharp “Sir!”

Iverson just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At ease, Cadet. What now?”

McClain finally broke protocol to give Iverson the smuggest smirk ever. “I’d like to return unused equipment, sir.” He raised one hand where dangling from a single finger was two untouched magazines.

“Holy shit.” Keith heard himself whisper, echoed by some of the people still around him. Keith knew that each magazine held twenty-five rounds of ammo and that they were only given enough for the one hundred priority targets. He knew that McClain had used ten rounds to secure the hostages which left him with only ninety rounds for one hundred targets. He also knew, somewhere in his mind, that McClain had taken down multiple targets with a single shot, but not every single shot, so the magnitude of what just happened hadn’t really hit him until Keith saw the unused ammunition swinging from that finger.

McClain had taken down one hundred drones more than a mile out with an amateur-modified rifle in forty shots.

“Holy shit!” He whispered again, because really. What else was he going to say?

Keith’s eyes flickered to everyone standing around McClain as they all came to the same realization he did and having such vastly different reactions. Hunk looked so excited that he might pass out, feet unsteady and was only standing upright thanks to Shiro’s reflexive grip. Shiro didn't seem to know how to process what he was seeing, which was totally understandable, because holy shit. Kinkade was the one who now had stars in his eyes as they flickered from the magazines to McClain’s smug smirk. Adam had the blankest face Keith had ever seen and committed it to memory to practice later. Griffin had the angriest look of disbelief and it nearly had Keith burst out in a laugh that he just managed to hold back when he saw Iverson’s face.

He looked… apoplectic.

It was honestly the only word that came to mind at the literal vein Keith could see beating in his forehead. Iverson looked like he was one salute away from having an aneurysm right there.

It was amazing.

A grin broke out over Keith’s face because seriously, he had no idea what the ever-loving fuck is going on with McClain or why he decided that breaking everyone around him was the best use of his time, but it was hilarious, when not directed at Keith, so why not enjoy the show.

Commander Rivera, Rainer? Roker? Whatever. Coughed from behind Iverson and took the magazines from McClain. “Thank you, Cadet. This will factor into your final grade, which will be posted alongside this year’s graduating class for this course at the end of the semester. It is safe to say, however, that you both are exempted. Congratulations.”

Iverson turned about-face and walked so stiffly towards the door of the deck that Keith was very sure that he would rather have stomped his way there. He nearly punched the reader on the wall with his access card as he shook in what had to be anger. He then paused with a hand to the frame to keep the door from sliding closed again and took a visible breath. Iverson looked over his shoulder with his good eye at the pair of newly exempted snipers. “See me within the next two weeks to discuss how to fill your schedule for next year. Mastery of one skill does not mean you can’t learn another.” Then he left as quickly as he professionally could.

Commander R chuckled, surprising everyone still on the emptying deck. “Congratulations again, you two.” He repeated as he followed Iverson at a much more controlled and relaxed pace.

Quiet fell over the remaining group as the rest of the Cadets filtered out. Keith was caught between following them or joining Shiro, but that meant joining the group around Shiro and Keith wasn’t sure he could handle that specific mix of people.

Another moment passed where Keith had finally worked up the nerve to walk up to Shiro when Adam finally lost his patience. He grabbed Shiro’s arm to drag him to the hall of private meeting rooms on the other side of the platform, throwing a stiff dismissal over his shoulder like the place wasn’t almost completely empty already.

Keith scowled at the closing door as he wondered what Adam’s deal was when his attention was caught by a high pitched “what the hell are you?!”

He turns to the group and could only raise an unbelieving brow at Griffin’s too-red face. Keith had never seen Griffin this worked up, even when he launched himself at Keith after being punched in the face. He’d be offended at being outdone if it wasn’t one of the funniest things he’s seen since he got Shiro to shoot a full blueberry out of his nose after scaring him by sitting in their dark kitchen in the middle of the night.

The laugh that Keith held back broke free and he was nearly doubled over at the force of it. He was vaguely aware that everyone was staring at him, but when he had almost gotten it under control an indignant and still high-pitched screech of “what are you laughing at, Kogane?!” sent him reeling again.

Honestly, Keith wasn’t sure what he was laughing at other than the sheer what-the-fuckery of this day, these past few months, and the offended face of one of the most annoying assholes he’s had the displeasure of enduring to date.

A different laugh broke through his own and brought it an abrupt halt when he realized its source, the source of everything lately.

McClain faced him now, eyes too warm and fond for someone Keith has never interacted with beyond school. “Obviously,” he started, words dragged as they’re directed towards Griffin while McClain’s eyes stayed on Keith, “he’s laughing at the skid marks Iverson left during his ‘tactical retreat.’”

A snort escaped Keith as Hunk’s scandalized “Lance!” and the unapologetic look now on McClain’s face. Before he knew it, Keith was already joining the group, drawn in by something he can’t name, but can see in the smile now turned his way.

“It was more at the escape attempt that vein in his forehead was making.” Keith said as a way of introduction to this new situation he was throwing himself into. He was rewarded with another happy laugh from McClain, raised brows and a half-smile from Kinkade, a vague look of shock and betrayal from Hunk, and a face filled with contrite confusion from Griffin. It was great. “That was amazing, by the way.”

He had meant it to be for both snipers because Keith was sure he wouldn’t have made more than half those shots at half that distance. McClain seemed to understand this by the pleased smile he directed at Kinkade, but Kinkade was having a very different reaction.

Kinkade faced McClain, stars reborn in his eyes and awe in his voice. “It was amazing.” He breathed like a fact because it kind of was. “How did you hit so many of them from this angle?”

McClain looked a little flustered at the attention, which confused Keith since he had thought that demanding attention was one of the few things about McClain that didn’t change. “Uh, I didn’t? At least I didn’t get more than two-for-one and that was only on the far sides.” He lowered his eyes, voice disappointed and meek in a way that Keith immediately decided was not allowed.

Kinkade’s look of awe grows, but Hunk was the one to voice the question on everyone’s mind. “Then how?”

A bright smile overtook McClain’s face as he patted Hunk on the shoulder. “The scope you made really helped me narrow down the margin of error, bro. I just aimed for one of the blades or wings or the nose and then they’d swerve to crash right into each other.” Keith could swear he sees a glint in those eyes as his smile grew almost impish. “You pick up a thing or two after crashing as many formations as I have.”

Griffin scoffed and Keith felt himself bristle reflexively. “Always need to show off don’t you, McClain?”

McClain just raised one unimpressed eyebrow at Griffin as a condescending smirk pulled at his mouth. “We’re training to be fighter pilots, Grifter. Showing off is a pre-req.”

Griffin's shoulders bunch up in anger as he took a step towards McClain, only stopping when Kinkade and even Hunk moved to keep the two separated. He stepped back when it was clear that no one else is willing to back down. “It’s Griffin.” He said, voice still irked, but calmer.

McClain’s smirk pulled up just a bit more. “Is it? My bad.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you took them all down.” Keith heard himself say before he could fully form his response. McClain's eyes jerked to his, a surprised sparkle of joy lighting them that set off something squirmy in Keith’s gut. He’s the one to look away this time, eyes caught on the casings to the left of the group and remembered what they were used for. “You even saved the hostages.” He added on lamely.

Griffin scowled as his eyes met Keith’s for the first time that day and hardened as quickly as they always have. “What are you even doing here, Kogane? Shouldn’t you be chasing after Shirogane’s shadow?”

“Hey, leave knife-boy alone.” McClain broke in before Keith can even be properly offended. “Talent attracts talent. Not surprising the top pilot of our year would stick around.”

Keith fought back an unexpected flush. “Knife-boy?”

His mega-watt smile was back on Keith. “Yeah! It’s the eyes, dude. They just cut right through me.” He said with a completely unnecessary wink before his face turned thoughtful. “Or maybe it’s your directness? Like cutting through to the heart of something? Maybe it’s just because you’re so sharp. Knives are sharp, but so are swords.” The glint was back in his eyes as they focused on Keith’s once more. “You’d probably kick ass with a sword, samurai.”

“Hunk would totally be a cannon.” McClain kept going like he didn’t make Keith blush to the roots of his hair. “Or maybe a war hammer. Something with a lot of blunt-force-trauma.”

“What? Why?” Hunk looked more confused than offended.

“Have you ever had a prolonged conversation with you?” McClain rolled his eyes as a fond smile pulled at his lips. “Between the brutally invasive truth bombs and the anxiety-driven imagination, I think you could give Lovecraft a run for his money." He shook his head. "I'm surprised I don't have a concussion 24/7.”

“Aw thanks, man… Wait.”

Kinkade let out an amused hum. “A knife and a cannon?” He looked from Keith to Hunk before he refocused on McClain. “What would I be?”

McClain gave him an easy smile. “A BL51 Semiautomatic.” He answered immediately.

“Aren’t those still under development?” Kinkade asked, brows furrowed.

“Yeah.” McClain shrugged. “So are you, though. You’ve got good accuracy and stamina, but you need to work on your instincts and widen your scope.” He nodded his head towards the edge of the platform. “If this were a real fight, ground troops would be on you after you take the first shot, hostages be damned.” A wave of almost disgusted anger crossed his face that took everyone in the group back. “When I brought it up, Shiro said that it was taught in Level 2 Tactics, not any of the Weapons courses, but expected to be known even though you don’t get demerits for not clearing your area first. Which is really stupid for at least six different and obvious reasons.” He blinked, ire suddenly gone and then turned his clear gaze back on Kinkade. “You’ve got potential, Kinkade, but we’re only like 12 and ‘still under development’ so I’d rather take a page out of Iverson’s book and master skills I haven’t yet.”

McClain’s grin was cut off by the disbelieving noise Griffin made and drew everyone’s attention to him.

“I don’t know why you’re kissing up to the Commander when he’s not even here.” He made a show of looking around the platform. “Some sniper you are if you can’t even see that.”

The flat look that McClain gave him would have been funny if it hadn’t carried waves of disappointment. He stuck a single finger up and pointed to the platform above them. They all looked up to see Commanders Iverson and R talking by the railing with some other Officers and higher-ups that Keith didn’t recognize. His shock at McClain’s perception didn’t even have a chance to settle before the boy in question spoke.

“For someone so focused on how everyone else is doing, your situational awareness sucks.” His tone turned wry and mocking. “Keep your eyes and mind wide-open, spearhead.”

Keith could only watch in amazement as Griffin splutters. “Sp- Spearhead?!”

“Yeah.” McClain said as he took a step forward, eyes and tone lowered into something much more intimidating than he should be capable of. “Spears are easy to make, easy to use, and easy to block. The heads have a bit of a bite but are mostly just for show since the staff is where all the threat really is in close courters unless you use it like a javelin.” His lips twitched from the thin line to something meaner. “But after that one shot, you’re just stuck in the sand with your head down and ass up. That is what makes you a spearhead.” He tilted his head the smallest degree. “Unless that stick up your butt is just for fun or for show. I won’t judge.”

He took a step back towards Hunk and shrugged his shoulders to emphasize his last point. “Hunk,” The boy being addressed jumped a bit but gave McClain his attention. “Can you bring my share of dinner to our room? I got some stuff to do before curfew.”

“Sure… I’ll see you later then?”

“Yeah. Later, dude.”

“Later.” Hunk complied with the unsubtle dismissal as he walked off towards the door and gave the group one last look as the door slid shut behind him.

The tension on the platform immediately rose and Keith found himself wishing that McClain had given him an out too.

“Grifter,” McClain suddenly barked and came back to the boy in a controlled rush. He moved in an almost dance as he crowded Griffin until his back touched the railing of the platform. Keith wasn’t sure what was happening, but the thought that they were on the mid-tier platform that was at least 4 stories high had him look to where the Commanders were only to be met with an empty platform and the confirmation that this was all according to McClain’s plan.

“Get off of me!” Griffin shouted, triggering Kinkade’s and Keith’s movement towards the pair. Keith rounded McClain’s side but didn’t touch them when he sees that the only point of contact is Griffin’s hands as they pushed McClain’s immovable chest. Kinkade’s eyes met his own through the gap between the fighting pair and nodded in agreement to let whatever this was play out. They both took a half step, Kinkade towards Griffin with a hand on his shoulder and Keith towards McClain while he kept his hands to himself.

“Stay away from Hunk.” McClain’s voice was cold, eyes icier than Keith had ever thought him capable and froze him in place.

“Who?”

Keith would never claim to be a social butterfly or particularly aware of people around him and never really cared when people were hurt by his indifference. At that moment though, Griffin made him very self-aware of how much of an idiot Keith probably sounded like whenever he asks the same thing.

The tension grew thicker despite no outward change in McClain. “Hunk, Cadet Hawea Garrett. The top mechanical engineer of our year. The one who modified my rifle and scope. The guy who just left.” He leaned in against Griffin’s straining hands. “And my teammate.”

McClain straightened his spine so suddenly that Griffin would’ve fallen forward if it wasn’t for Kinkade’s grip on his shoulder. “Stay away from what is mine.”

He took a step back, gave Kinkade a nod and Griffin a piercing glare before he finally brought his eyes back to Keith. McClain started walking backward unerringly towards the exit door, now with a lazy confident smirk that kept all eyes on him and brought a blush to Keith’s face. His eyes stayed on him for a long moment before his smirk turned just a touch wicked and gave Keith a wink that had him scowling reflexively despite his still burning cheeks.

McClain just grinned and shot them those stupid finger guns as he hip-checked his access card against the reader to open the door.

“Hasta la later, Keith!”

And then he was gone.

Keith’s blush wouldn’t calm down, not even when Griffin shouldered his way past to a different exit from the one McClain took. It was still there when the heavy and inquisitive stare of Kinkade fell on him and flared just a bit when Keith mustered up enough courage to glare back.

“What?” He bit out defensively.

Kinkade only raised his brows before shaking his head. “Nothing. Goodbye.” He simply stated, face blank once more as he made to follow Griffin and left Keith alone on the platform.

Keith wasn’t sure what just happened or why, but one thing was for certain.

He was going to stay as far from McClain as possible.

Chapter Text

Apparently, far away now meant within twenty feet at any given time.

Keith wasn’t sure why it was happening, but he was slowly getting used to being eternally confused by anything and everything McClain. So, the sudden surge of McClain in his peripheral wasn’t as alarming as it might have been without the two months of rumors and changes to back it up.

But the way Keith didn’t have to turn as far to find the other boy and the sheer number of times he glances up only to see eyes already looking towards him, just screamed of another plan that now centered around himself. Great.

Except it wasn’t great because every time Keith searched the other boy out on his own time, he was impossible to find.

Just like always, no one could find McClain if he didn’t want to be found. He was only in the common areas when required and wasn’t even in his room before curfew like Keith had originally thought if the denials that he heard Hunk giving some of the other cadets meant anything.

Keith wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think McClain was on campus when he disappeared for hours at a time. He sure as shit wasn’t going into the town that was two hours away and getting back before dinner or curfew, but that only left the restricted areas of the compound or the fucking desert. What there was to even do out there was beyond Keith, but it was the best bet.

So yeah, McClain was stalking him, but not in that “always there for you” way like a real, easily confronted/arrested stalker does because he obviously hates making things easy for Keith.

It would be annoying if it wasn’t for how Griffin would almost trip over himself while backing off whenever McClain hovered in Keith’s orbit.

The one time that Keith could remember Griffin trying to confront him was outside the library the Monday after the practical. Keith had been on his way in with his group for their allotted study hour while Griffin was coming out. Normally, there would be a shoulder check, an attempted trip, snide comments, and harsh glares, or even a classic shoving all his stuff onto the floor.

Keith never really braced himself for it, having long since learned that staying fluid would give him a better chance of avoiding or recovering from whatever today’s asshat decided to dole out. Still, it didn’t keep him from tensing up just the slightest when a taller figure suddenly blocked the path between him and Griffin.

The sight of rich brown hair and a tan neck had his face scowling and his stomach twisting, but he didn’t try to move. No one in the hall really tried anything until the head in front of Keith tilted and McClain’s voice filled the space.

“Stay in your lane, Grifter, or risk getting run over.”

Griffin avoided Keith after that.

It wasn’t like he didn’t try to get under Keith’s skin anymore, he just did it silently with pointed looks and stupider than usual faces. Also known as things that can be easily ignored.

So yeah, he wasn’t sure what was up, but whatever McClain was planning definitely revolved around him.

Or maybe it was Keith that was circling.

He could admit to himself that he had become a little obsessive with McClain and all his mysteries over the past few months, but he did try to keep to his vow after that whole thing on the platform.

Too bad McClain never got the message.

So now Keith had to sit there while the center of the rumor storm raged at the edge of his blind spot at his five in the classroom, his six in the halls, on his two just out of sight and behind Hunk in the mess hall. It was infuriating.

He spent two weeks being orbited silently until he finally cracked and decided to try to get some information from the only somewhat reliable source he had.

"It's almost concerning…" Shiro finished absentmindedly as they set up their kitchen island counter corner for dinner.

"What do you mean 'almost'?" Keith asked, catching the hesitation of Shiro’s assessment after Keith had subtly mentioned McClain for the fourth time that night.

Shiro didn’t give any visible notice of the way he perked up when their weekly recap had finally turned down the path Keith had been very keen on going. He suppressed a little smug smirk. He was better at the whole sleuthing game than he thought.

The older man just shrugged, back now turned to Keith as he picked up the dish of stir fry from next to the microwave.

"Well, I’m not really sure. This kind of change makes me think he went through something traumatic, but he didn’t miss any class and he wasn’t in the infirmary at all.” He set the plates, brows furrowed and mouth tugging into a slight frown. “Not to mention that some of the skillsets he's displaying are pretty unexpected."

"You mean the Weapons Exemption thing?"

"Sort of? McClain said that his sister helped him with that when he was pitching his skills, so it’s not too big of a surprise, but… Adam mentioned some stuff about his interactions with other students and I wasn't really sure what he meant until I really thought about it.” Shiro said reluctantly while pointing a firm finger at Keith’s still untouched plate.

He flushed at the realization that he wasn’t as nonchalant about the whole thing as he wanted Shiro to believe. Keith scooped up some of the rice and veggies into his mouth, pointedly not looking at Shiro as he quietly wished for the man to continue.

Shiro gave a soft sigh but gave into Keith’s curiosity. “He's good at information gathering. Like. Really good at it. Not sure how, but he managed to get me to admit I was your foster brother, confirm my relationship with Adam, and even ferret out part of my opinion on some of the officers."

"…What."

"I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but-"

"No, Shiro, I know how annoying professional you can be better than a lot of people. The fact this random kid can do that is…weird."

"Professionalism is a requirement in the workplace, Keith."

Keith huffed his bangs out of his face at that. "Yeah, but you won't even let me bitch about Iverson when you’re off the clock."

“Language.” Shiro scolded as he reached for his drink. “I just don't want you developing more bad habits."

"Bottling up my feelings about unavoidable people is a bad habit."

"Alright, smart mouth. Why are you asking about McClain anyway?" Shiro prodded with all the finesse of a bull.

Keith scowled and kept his eyes firmly on his plate. "I didn't ask, you brought him up." He said, ignoring the side-eyed look that Shiro was giving him at that blatant lie.

"Yeah,” The man agreed, letting this little bit go with a note of understanding ringing in his voice towards Keith’s awkwardness. “But normally you'd just grunt like a caveman or say nothing at all when I talk about other cadets."

Never mind. Shiro was a dick.

"I don't grunt."

"Yes, you do, now answer the question."

"No, I don’t, and I don't know why, but something about McClain bothers me." He admitted, hoping that some honesty would bring the conversation back to where he wanted.

"Yes, you do.” Shiro hummed. “Something about him bothers a lot of the staff, but everyone has different issues so I'm not sure what to tell you."

"No, I don’t. Issues? Like what?"

"Yes, you do, and I'm not divulging confidential information."

"No, I don't, and it's not confidential unless they make official complaints or something. Besides, you wouldn’t even mention it if that was true. Come on, Shiro. Shouldn't you be over the moon that I'm taking an interest in my peers?" Keith whined. Shiro couldn’t constantly be on him about being social and then block him at one of the first real attempts he made at wanting to get to know more about his peers.

The older man sighed as he served them both a second helping. "Yes, you do, and I won't be over the moon until they finish building the ship to Kerberos."

Keith’s face scrunched in distaste. "No, I don’t, and your dad-humor is terrible. Tell me what I want to know, or I'll start snooping around the officer's lounge."

"Yes, you do. No, it isn't, and no you won't if you don't want to get in trouble."

"No, I don't. Yes, it is, and yes I will if you don' tell me. If I get caught, I'll just say you thought I needed to practice stealth and recon."

Shiro frowned at him over his drink. "Blackmail is illegal."

Keith smirked in triple victory. "But very effective. Come on!"

"Oh my god, fine!” Shiro exclaimed, putting his glass down with a loud thunk and a heavy sigh. “Some of them think McClain is somehow cheating on his tests when all his scores suddenly spiked.” He made a face that told Keith exactly how true Shiro thought that idea was. “But when they gave him and only him newly written exams or designed sims for older years, he aced them… Flawlessly.”

“Yeah, I noticed the sims,” Keith added a bit hesitantly, wondering how the newer tests measured up to the current ones but choosing not to ask. “One day he was the first to crash like he usually did, and then the next he’s about to beat my score!” His irritation died as he thought of that first day. “He seemed… really out of it though.”

“When was this?” Shiro asked carefully.

“Uh, like two months ago? It was right when he had that whole personality flip. He hasn’t gotten that far in the sims since,” Keith paused, but decided that Shiro should know. “It feels like he could though.”

Shiro hummed while chewing absentmindedly. “He probably can, if I’m being honest. Might even be able to beat my scores from that age.” Keith looked up in surprise at the admission. What he now realized was jealousy began squirming in his gut once more, but he stayed silent as Shiro continued. “He was offered a grade jump when the streak continued and refused. Right after that, his grades declined a little, but he's still in the top 10. It's almost unsettling how consistently he grades though.”

“Is that why you’re worried?” Keith asked, remembering the tone Shiro was using earlier.

“It’s not really me that’s worried,” Shiro admitted before glaring at his plate. “Iverson thinks he's doing it on purpose since we scared him with a promotion and based on what you’re saying, he might be right. Why a promotion would scare him though, I have no idea."

Keith looked down at his stir fry, carefully nudging the mushrooms out of the way and spearing a kernel of corn with his fork. He thought of gunshots, flashing eyes, and insults made in the debris of falling drones. "…Might have to do with his friend." He mumbled, feeling Shiro’s eyes back on him, but not raising his head to meet them.

"What?"

"After the weapons exemption test.” Keith clarified. “McClain was there with the other students and was talking with Kinkade, the other weapons exemption student. Griffin was there too, and you know how he is-"

"I know you don't like him,” Shiro cut him off, exasperation lacing his words. “But he'll leave you alone if you ignore him."

Keith just gave him a look full of disbelief. "Last time I ignored a dog barking at me, it bit me."

"He's not a dog." Shiro huffed.

Keith grinned. "No, he's a spearhead."

Confusion curled in Shiro’s expression. "What?"

"Never mind, you had to be there.” Keith dismissed, knowing Shiro wouldn’t approve. “Anyway, McClain was just talking to Kinkade about weapons when Griffin barges into the conversation. McClain just shuts him down and laid claim to some engineer kid that Griffin apparently said he wanted on his team."

Shiro’s brows furrowed and for a brief second before rocketing up, jaw dropping a little in incredulity. "His team? You guys don't get put into teams for another 3 years!"

He gave Shiro a blank look. "Yeah, but it's the time of year when the older cadets are picking teams, so everyone's been talking about it in the mess hall."

The brows lowered in understanding. "Ah, right. So, what? He made a move on McClain's friend?"

"I guess?” Keith shrugs in answer. “He didn't even sound like he knew who McClain was talking about, but the claim was pretty clear."

"And doing so right after setting a new maybe even world record for a skill you guys haven't taken the basics course for would make the claim sound like a threat."  

Keith hadn’t even consciously realized that, but Shiro had a point. It was just another layer to McClain’s plan. "I mean. Yeah, a little but…” He trails off uncertainly, but Shiro’s words brought another idea to mind.

"Yeah?"

"I think- I mean- I'm probably wrong, but…” Keith stuttered, the idea sounding stupid, but right the longer he thought about it. “I think he made a claim on me too?" He finishes lamely.

"…what?" Shiro repeated for the umpteenth time that night, his tone was as flat as his look. Keith felt a sudden flush crawling up his face and turned back to his mostly empty plate.

"Well, right after McClain told Griffin to 'stay away from what was his'. He kept staring at me while he was leaving so I thought it was a threat for me too since McClain's always been really loud about anything I do, but he's laid off of that. Now he just sits near me in class or the mess hall with his friend and keeps telling off or glaring at Griffin or any of the other assholes whenever they come by. Now you're telling me that he's got spy skills, and no one knows what to do, but they all kind of hate him? It's really weird, Shiro." He scoops the rest of the food into his mouth to try and keep more words from spilling out. Why did he even bring this up? Why was this bothering him so much?

"That… hmm." Shiro hums after a long moment. Keith looks up and sees him picking up his plate to head back around the island counter.

Keith picks up his own plate and hurries after him, curious about what Shiro makes of McClain’s behavior since Keith really has no idea what to do. He slides his plate on top of Shiro’s as the man starts washing up. He reaches for the drying rag hanging in the cabinet handle and hops up onto the counter. He ignores Shiro’s scolding face and returns it with one he fills with as much confusion and frustration as he can.

Without answering, Shiro turns back to the dishes in his hand, washing the two they ate from quickly. The thoughtful look returned to his face, morphing into something slightly softer that Keith can’t identify.

“It- and don't bite my head off for this, but it kind of sounds like he's protecting you?" Shiro suddenly says, tone unsure, but face distinctly not.

"Protecting me?" Keith blurts out as he feels his hackles already rising.

"Keith."

"Sorry,” He bites out, not really sorry, but not wanting to argue. “It’s just- I don't need anyone protecting me." He grumbles.

Shiro gives him both a small smile and the plate to dry as he turns around to lean against the sink. "Probably not, but what he's doing sounds like standing guard between you and people that have issues with you."

"…Why?" The confusion evident in his voice, but Keith is kind of tired of being so lost when it came to McClain and just wants a solid answer.

The amused smile he gets doesn’t tell him anything other than that Shiro is still a dick. "No idea. He's in your class. You should know him better than I do."

"Shiro,” Keith growls angrily gripping the plate in his hands hard enough to break it. He did not like being teased. “This is literally the first time I've ever asked you about any of my classmates."

"I know and I'm so proud of you." The actual toddler smirks at him.

"Shiro."

"Don't know what else to tell you other than McClain seems like a good kid that protects his own which includes you for some reason.” The child shrugs. “Maybe try and make friends with him?"

Keith freezes, not fighting when Shiro takes the now dry plate from his hand to put into the cupboard next to him.

"Make friends?"

"Yeah, you know, people your own age that you talk to and get along with?" That teasing tone mirroring the poking finger in his arm.

"I know what friends are!" Keith barks, swatting the finger and the laughing man away.

"Great! So, you know how to make friends with McClain." Shiro says, a grin stretching across his face.

Keith felt a little like they were having two very different conversations. "I never said that I wanted to be his friend!"

"True,” Shiro concedes, grin not dying. “But it sounds like he might want to be yours."

That makes Keith stop. "…Really?" he murmured, tone unsure, and to his annoyance, hopeful.

Shiro’s teasing look melted. "Yeah."

A long moment passes, neither moving while Keith processes what this new layer of McClain’s plan might mean for him.

"Ugh. Fine. I'll try to be his friend." He grumbles, giving in to what feels like more than just Shiro’s idea.

"Great!"

"…How do I do that?"

A tired sigh was his answer.

Chapter Text

He starts with sitting at their lunch table.

Not with them, he’s not crazy, but he does sit at the opposite corner of the table that Hunk and McClain occupied. He’s careful not to give more than a cursory once over both boys before spooning the vaguely tomato and beef-flavored mush on his tray into his mouth.

He dutifully ignores the wide-eyes that Hunk gives him but takes careful note of the way that McClain seems unbothered by this change in their dynamic.

Like he planned it.

Keith scowled at his lunch, the mush calling itself lasagna even less appetizing now. Maybe he’s being paranoid, but it feels like he’s just been playing connect the dots with McClain three puzzles ahead of him.

He hears the pair of them whispering, Hunk’s more fevered and rushed while McClain’s remained annoyingly level. They kept it up for the ten minutes it took Keith to shove down any of the questionably edible food on his tray. He stood up as soon as he finished off the last bite, still chewing as he dumped his tray into the receptacle, not once looking back to the two sets of eyes on the back of his head.

Part 1 complete.

The lecture podium was smaller from his new seat, but he’ll be damned if he gives up his spot next to McClain just because he can’t read the facial cues of the speaker to figure out which sections they’ll be tested on. He’s pretty sure he’s got their patterns down anyway, so he doesn’t mind giving up that advantage.

Keith does miss the privacy though.

It’s harder to ignore the whispers and glances from everyone around him when he’s so used to having his front view clear of distraction. He knows he’s being a little paranoid, that idle gossip was never worth getting riled up for, but he still hated the attention.

He was almost relieved when his target finally walked into the classroom. Almost because McClain didn’t even fumble a single step as he made his way to his usual seat after seeing the change. The boy even gave Keith his usual greeting, something that he apparently made a special detour for since he didn’t follow his usual path today.

Keith didn’t respond, he never did, but he could feel the eyes again. The whispering picked back up and he was almost mad at how casual McClain seemed to be when everyone around him didn’t know how to react. Again.

The two sat in a silent bubble that the rest of their peers seemed hesitant to pop until the teacher, Travers for Flight Instruction, arrived and started class.

All that could be heard over the droning lecture and the taps of keys was McClain’s inconsistent stylus writing out something out on their Garrison issued tablets. This wasn’t that unusual of a trait since Keith was also one of the few students that had a more analog style of notetaking, but it was annoying.

It didn’t even sound like he was writing half the time. There would be a series of sharp taps, then silence, a single tap, a drag, some clicks of the keys, a tsk of the tongue or a sigh, and then more inconsistent taps. A quick glance at McClain’s tablet didn’t change anything seeing as it was a mess of surprisingly neat letters mixed in with doodles and symbols that Keith couldn’t even begin to guess.

He doesn’t know why he’s so fixated on this, on McClain, but every tap echo in his ears to the point where he almost flinches when a new voice breaks into the pattern.

“-ogane?”

Keith looks up to meet the Professor’s unforgiving eyes, aware that he’s already given away that he wasn’t paying attention with how he doesn’t immediately give an answer. The class goes even more silent, which he didn't think was possible before, and all turn to him as he coughs as his eyes flick back down to his mostly empty tablet. He prepares to give a bullshit guess, no matter how people react, when the tapping next to him starts up just loud enough for him to hear.

Tap. Hold. Tap tap tap tap tap. Hold. Tap tap. Hold. A visible flip of the stylus and two more decisive taps.

1-5-2 and something else 2?

“Kogane!”

“Flight pattern 1-5-2,” flip? “Beta.”

Travers kept his eyes on him for just long enough for Keith to begin worrying that he was wrong about more than just the answer when he blinks and nods his head once before continuing with the lecture.

Keith waits a solid two minute for the various taps and clicks of the other students to pick back up, everyone silently agreeing to let this weirdly tense moment pass without another word. He waits until his shoulders loosen, his fist unclenches, and his jaw relaxes. He waits and then looks without turning to the boy sitting next to him.

McClain is still tap-tap-tapping away, but his eyes are on Keith now. Their eyes meet, and Keith is so tempted to look away, to ask to leave the room and then run into the desert, to throw himself to the ground so hard that he shoots out the other side of the world.

And then he tells himself to calm his shit because what the fuck?

Instead, Keith turns his face just enough to look at McClain with both eyes and gives him a small, genuine smile in thanks.

McClain’s stylus flicks out of his hand, but quick reflexes save it from falling to the floor. The other boy doesn’t move a bit otherwise and Keith’s worried he did something wrong like glare by accident again.

His smile had almost fallen when McClain’s ears suddenly grew red as his eyes warmed towards Keith even more, no matter how impossible that was. A smile, one with a few white teeth shined his way and Keith felt his cheeks flushing against his will.

He snapped back towards his tablet, wishing he just ran for the desert when he had the chance.

Keith didn’t look back throughout the rest of class.

He kept his eyes on his tablet, not really seeing what he was writing, but fairly sure it wasn’t anything relevant since he wasn’t listening to the teacher at all.

He only came to when the students around him all started chatting again, indicating the end of the lecture. He locked his screen and slid the tablet back into his bag when he caught sight of McClain swinging his pack onto one shoulder and making his way out of the room.

Keith could feel the panic rising as he fumbles with the zipper on his bag and nearly knocks his chair over when he turns to follow.

This wasn’t part of the Plan, but since he was the only one who actually knew what the Plan was it probably wasn’t McClain’s fault for messing things up.

Keith had to jog a bit to catch up, cursing his legs for being nubs when compared to McClain’s. He makes it to about two and a half feet behind him before deciding that this was far away enough.

They walked the whole way to the sims like that, walking together without the confinement of conversation brought on by proximity. It was growing dangerously comfortable and Keith was almost sad to the door to the sim right in front of them.

McClain slid through first and Keith tried not to be disappointed that he didn’t look back or hold it open for him. It appears that the other boy didn’t even know he was there. Doubtful, if McClain was even half as smart as Keith was beginning to suspect he was.

As Keith slides in through the door, his quick scan shows him that McClain reclaimed his usual spot of just off-center of Iverson’s eyeline. Keith gives his own haunt, front and right of the stairs, a mournful look before stealing his spine and coming to stand next to McClain.

There is at least half a foot between them, but Keith is hyper-aware of McClain and his nonreaction to another change. The whispers around him might have started again if Iverson hadn’t cut them all off.

“Cadets! You’re doing Pairs today. Formations 0-2-7-Delta and 0-1-4-Alpha. Find your partner and review. McClain! Kogane!”

Iverson’s eye is fixed to the boy on his left and Keith can almost feel that gaze slide over him as it makes its way to his usual spot before snapping back. The Commander blinks, the only real reaction Keith has gotten for his abnormal behavior today and gives the pair what might be an approving expression.

“You two are up first, you have five minutes.”

Before the Change, McClain would have loudly approached Keith and antagonized him for the entirety of their review time whenever Iverson paired them up. After the Change, the silence was almost oppressive, but the distance McClain kept from him didn’t make it so obvious.

Now though, Keith kind of misses the old McClain’s cocky bluster if only because it would have smashed through the wall between them easily.

He glances at the boy next to him and almost jumps when he sees McClain is turned to him, looking at him. He can’t tell what McClain is looking for, but he must find something since he quirks a little smile, inviting Keith to start this conversation. He nods instead.

McClain doesn’t seem disappointed or put off like most people tend to be, he looks almost like he expected it, is used to Keith being the way that he is.

Only, that was impossible because this was maybe the third real interaction that the two of them have ever had.

Keith looks away, more confused than flustered for once and trying not to think about how this disarming acceptance reminds him so much of Shiro. He pauses at the thought.

Shiro was just as confusing when they first met almost a year ago. Keith had fully expected to be sent to juvie after hotwiring his car, but Shiro, the weirdo, recruited him immediately and then formally signed on as his guardian after only a month instead. Normal people didn’t do that, and Keith knew from watching the way other people reacted just as baffled by Shiro’s sincerity that it wasn’t just the mind of a jaded kid reacting like that.

McClain was a similar type of sincere but in a different…hue? It wasn’t the exact same, but close enough that Keith wasn’t as intimidated by him anymore. He spared a quick glance back at McClain from beneath his bangs and tried not to flush when their eyes met again.

He still had that same smile, but his eyes were warmer, his expression more honest. He really was happy at that moment and it was because of Keith.

A fuzzy feeling started working its way in his heart and Keith couldn’t fight the small, shy smile he gave in return. They break the eye-contact by some unspoken agreement, a novelty to Keith who looks at his shoes and tries not to shuffle in place.

He didn’t get any answers to the dozens upon dozens of questions he had, but he decided that for right now, this was enough.

Iverson calls them at the end of the five-minute marker and the pair step up to their separate sims. They share another look just before heading in, neither really caring that they didn’t discuss how they were going to tackle this run.

They ace it.

Part 2 complete.

They keep this new pattern for the next three days.

Keith would be next to McClain during classes, but anywhere that allowed more freedom to interact had him retreating to the edge of the lunch or library tables.

Three days before someone broke protocol.

Not that Hunk knew what he was doing when he tried to invite Keith into their conversation since Keith, and maybe McClain knew how things were supposed to work now.

Keith blinked up from his “taco” bowl not sure of what distracted him from his mental review of the material for a quiz they were having later that day.

“Kogane?”

He turns his head towards the two boys he had grown somewhat accustomed to being in his space. His eyes flicker briefly to McClain, who is frowning at his own lunch, before settling on Hunk. He raises a brow at the questioning look he gets in return.

Hunk startles a bit, which doesn’t make any sense since he’s the one that asked for Keith’s attention but hurries to repeat himself.

“Uh- Do you- I mean- You don’t have to, but if you want- You just kinda- Not that I’m assuming anything! It’s just-“

“Hunk.” McClain suddenly says, breaking into Hunk’s rambling. Keith was a little grateful and a bit jealous at the way that just a name and a hand on the arm from McClain was enough to center the anxious boy.

The bigger boy takes a steadying breath before looking Keith right in the eye.

“Would you like to sit with us?”

Keith is taken aback, not sure why he was being asked. His confusion must show on his face because Hunk’s face changes to something softer that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“I mean, you’ve always been alone during lunch except for the late few days when you’ve been sitting at our table. You don’t have to sit on the edge though, you’re welcome to join us!” He gave Keith a bright smile that tempted him to come closer, to join them as easily as Hunk made it seem.

He felt the agreement on his tongue threaten to break free when he blinked, and the feeling was gone. His vision widens out from just Hunk to McClain, who wasn’t looking at him. and everyone else who won’t stop looking. He suddenly felts claustrophobic and needed to leave. Now.

“No.”

Keith tried not to feel too bad at the sad eyes he got from the bigger boy, dumping his half-empty tray and leave the mess hall early. Still, he felt those eyes, joined by all the others that follow him out the door and he tried very hard not to wonder whether McClain was watching him leave too.

Hunk didn’t invite him to sit with them after that and Keith tried very hard not to feel bad about it. It was his fault for rejecting the offer. He regretted how harshly he did it, but not the action itself. He just … wasn’t ready.

But he wasn’t giving up either.

He kept sitting at the edge of their table, still sat next to McClain during class, and teamed up with him for the sims and gym. They didn’t talk beyond what was expected, but it was the most consistent interaction Keith experienced outside of Shiro in maybe a year. It made him hopeful.

The hope was almost not enough to combat the ease of winter break though.

Keith knew that the (insert holiday) break was coming soon and was even a bit excited to be spending Christmas with Shiro. It had been a few years since his dad was arrested and while he did get to see him once a year, it was nice being able to bring along a real friend for once instead of Disapproving Social Worker B.

Keith even managed to get presents this year. He saved up enough of the small allowance Shiro gives him for things from the campus shop and their weekend trips that he could afford something nice for the guy. Nothing fancy, but maybe one of those dorky t-shirts that they sold at the mall in town. Shiro wore enough of them during their weekends together that Keith was pretty sure he had a good idea about the brand of shit humor Shiro liked. He could probably get some of that over-spiced fruit cake his dad loved too.

But he would be losing a whole month of time trying to befriend McClain.

He was being silly, they weren’t even really friends and Keith wasn’t going to be mostly alone or confined to the dorms for the break either. He shouldn’t feel so sad that he was already going to lose this understanding with McClain. He had a feeling that the time apart will change something else in their dynamic, and their little routine will change when classes start up again.

Still, the irrational thoughts of “maybe he’ll have another huge shift in personality and go back to that loud version of himself” or “maybe he’ll transfer to another division” or even “maybe he’ll drop out and become an ice dancer” kept popping up in his head and really, Keith was being stupid. It was his fault for initiating his plan only two weeks before break.

So, he sucked it up and attended the last day of classes, making sure to at least wish Hunk “Happy Holidays” as an apology for brushing him off the week before. The other boy seemed surprised at first but gave an overwhelmingly sincere smile and thanks when returning the sentiment. He had a soft heart, but Keith kind of liked that.

Saying goodbye to McClain was just as strange as Keith thought it would be.

He almost didn’t say anything, not wanting to break the pattern even more than a whole month apart will. Of course, McClain wouldn’t let Keith off that easily.

“Kogane.”

Keith turned away from his locker and met McClain’s serious face. It startled him enough to drop his half-full gym bag of laundry. He ducked down quickly to pick it up, almost bumping heads with McClain when the other boy tried to help him. He stood up straight, fumbled back a step at the proximity, and was hit in the back of the knee with the bench bolted to the floor behind him. He would have fallen if not for the strong hands on his arms.

“Sorry,” McClain said from much too close. The bag of dirty clothes held tightly to Keith’s chest the only thing that really kept the two of them apart. Keith absently noted the red ears as he tried to avoid McClain’s eyes while righting himself and thanking the stars that the rest of their class had already left. McClain carefully stepped away to where he stood before as he rubbed the back of his neck as the flush from his ears made its way to his cheeks. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

The heat in Keith's face grew as he scowled. “You didn't scare me.” He quickly shoved everything in his locker into his bag, not caring enough to sort through anything anymore and just wanting to leave. His eyes flicked over to McClain, who had that stupidly fond smile back on his face for some reason and felt the need to leave rising.

It must show on his face because McClain dropped the look quickly and brought the serious one back. Keith wasn’t sure that really makes him feel better.

“Look, I know we’re not close,” McClain started, something flashing in his eyes that Keith couldn’t read. “But I like to think that we’re friends,” What? Since when?! “And I heard about your, uh, circumstances? I just wanted to be sure that you weren’t going to be stuck on campus with just the Commanders for the whole break!”

Keith flashed back briefly to his conversation with Shiro. He mentioned that McClain was good at recon, right? Good enough to get some personal information from Shiro at the very least. Information that definitely had to do with Keith, now that he thought about it.

He felt the anger rising inside him. He might have been trying to be McClain’s friend (in a roundabout way, sure), but that doesn’t give him a free pass to everything Keith. He zipped his overfilled bag shut and threw it over his shoulder, making McClain take another step back to avoid getting hit. Good.

“What if I am?” Keith asked, tone sharp.

Confusion takes over McClain’s features for a change before realization dawned on the other boy.

“Oh! I wasn’t trying to make fun of you or anything,” Keith didn’t think he was, but now he might. “I was just asking since I know Officer Shirogane is your guardian but is also super busy all the time and-” The red was back in McClain’s face and ears. “I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t be alone for the holidays.”

Keith felt like he’s being thrown for a loop, or maybe an entire planetary ring, with how random this concern feels when another memory pops into his head.

“It kind of sounds like he was protecting you?”

Dammit, Shiro. Stop being right.

“I’ll be fine.” McClain didn’t look pleased with that, so he decided to give the guy some more and hoped that it would be enough to get him to back off. “Shiro will be working a bit during the break but got the Christmas and New Year’s weeks off. We’ll be at his place the whole time.”

McClain blinked like he wasn’t expecting Keith to be so forthcoming. Keith wasn’t really expecting it either but he's beginning to think it might be best to just go with the flow when it comes to McClain.

“Oh, that’s, uh, good?” McClain blinked again before his face broke out into a sudden and wide grin that startled Keith. “That’s really great!” He took a step forward and clapped a hand onto Keith’s shoulder, grin softening into that confusingly warm smile. “I’m really glad you won’t be alone.”

 “Uh, thanks?” Keith said lamely, not sure how to handle any of what is happening right now.

The grin was back as the hand clapped his shoulder once more and McClain made a break for the door out of the locker room. Keith watched a little dumbly as McClain swung it open and turned on his heel to face him once more.

“Happy Holidays, dude!” He sang, shooting finger guns and that smile right at Keith and shocked him out of the daze enough to make him realize that this was his last chance.

“Happy Holidays!” He managed to blurt out before the other boy could leave, surprising them both with the volume. Keith felt warmth bubbling up at the happy look he got for his troubles.

Chapter Text

The break started out dully.

Shiro was still on duty and Keith wasn’t allowed to go wandering around the city or use the kitchen by himself. Seeing as he was already thirteen and had been pretty much on his own for four years, he normally wouldn’t care about such a stupid rule, but he didn’t want to disappoint Shiro especially since it was so close to Christmas.

So, he stayed in their half-decorated apartment and watched too much TV while cleaning out the surprising amount of junk food Shiro had stashed away.

It was boring and a little lonely, but Keith sort of felt like a real teenager for once.

Still, he was happy when Shiro was finally given time off even if they started with a shopping spree because Shiro left absolutely everything to the last minute.

“I do my best work under pressure, Keith.”

And that was all fine and dandy when it led to things like new flight records and recommendations to ground-breaking missions. It was, however, decidedly not fine when it led to Keith spending an uncomfortable 30 minutes being judged by Adam and the fancy pen set in his hands while he searched through a bunch of shitty humor shirts for Shiro.

Shiro’s disgusted judgment at the fruit cake purchase was decidedly much funnier.

“What kind of person even likes this stuff?”

“I don’t know what to tell you. My dad has weird tastes.”

Taste that Shiro had no right to criticize after putting straight wasabi on a hotdog in front of Keith’s very eyes. Respecting the homeland his ass.

It was worth it though, to see Shiro’s stiffly polite face hiding disgust when he unboxed the cake for his father and know it was because he was flashing back to the sample Keith made him try in the store and not from being in a prison visitation room. It was worth sitting wedged under the mini-cooler in Shiro’s two-seater for nearly three hours, so the stupid thing wouldn’t get knocked around in the trunk. It was worth the stupid seasonal cost and crowd just to see his dad’s face break out into one of the happiest looks he’s seen in years when he says, “I made a friend.”

“A friend?” His dad asked as his eyes glanced over questioningly at Shiro for just a moment.

“A friend his age.” Shiro clarified.

“Yeah, I figured. He never exactly called you a friend in any of his letters.”

“Really?” Keith felt Shiro’s eyes on him. “What does he call me?”

“Want some more cake, dad?” Keith broke in, face red, and decidedly not looking at either man as he cut a too big slice of the cake. Only one of the three of them actually liked it and while Keith has learned to stomach it, Shiro was fine saving the gross thing for their visit next year.

“Sure, get another for your Buff Shadow too.”

“Dad!”

“That’s alright Mr. Kog-” A cough from his father interrupted his refusal.

“Now, I told you to call me Kim. You’re looking after my boy while I’m in here, so you deserve at least that much respect.” He gave Keith a pointed look. “And maybe some respect from my son too.”

Keith frowned as he cuts Shiro an extra-large piece, ignoring the whine he heard from the young man. “I respect him plenty. Just wish he wouldn’t hover so much.” A thought popped into his head. “Or at least lets me cook.”

He handed Shiro his plate and took a noticeably thinner piece for himself as he tried not to look either man in the eye.

“Keith,” Shiro said carefully. “I don’t want you to think you have to earn your keep or anything. You don’t have to cook for me.”

Keith tried not to scowl but gave Shiro a pointed look. “I’d be cooking for me just as much as you since, and no offense but, I’m kind of sick of microwave meals.”

Shiro looked away with an uncomfortable, but thoughtful expression on his face. “Alright. We’ll stop by a grocer on our way back. It’ll be packed cause of the holidays, but we’ll try to get some basics.”

“And pans, maybe a pot. Definitely a spatula, but I can make do with at least a wooden spoon set.”

Shiro gave him a surprised and confused look while his dad cracked up behind him.

“Just as bossy as always.” He smiled warmly at Keith. “Does he even have a kitchen to put all that stuff in? The way you’re talking, you guys must stay in a dorm or something.”

Shiro flushed while Keith just smirked.

“The dorm kitchens have more than we do right now, even if it’s just a glorified breakroom.”

His dad broke out laughing again as Shiro took a large bite, probably to keep from having to respond, and then promptly grimaced. He struggled enough while chewing that Keith took mercy on him and handed over a cup of water. He chugged it to wash down the taste and almost slammed the paper cup on the table in relief as he met Keith’s eyes.

“Make a list and we’ll see what we can do.”

Keith nodded in satisfaction and took a much smaller bite while trying not to think about the slight burn of ginger and too much cinnamon.

His dad continued to chuckle, but Keith is just glad he looked so happy.

“So,” He gave Keith a crooked smile. “A friend?”

Never mind, Keith is never getting his dad anything nice ever again.

He felt his cheeks burn and blamed it on the cake. “He’s just some weird guy from class.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded absently, not looking up. “He was, uh- kind of a jerk when we first started, and then one day he just wasn’t?” His brows furrowed at the impossible puzzle that was McClain. “He was a terrible pilot, but now he’s the only one that can keep up with me. We get paired up a lot for sims and he’s a lot nicer now so…”

“So?” His dad hummed expectantly.

“I guess we’re kind of friends?”

Shiro made an amused sound and brought Keith’s attention to him.

“What?”

He grinned as he pulled out a slim shimmery dark grey box with a bright red ribbon from the inner pocket of his jacket on the chair behind him and handed it over to Keith. “McClain told me to give that to you whenever we opened presents.” He leaned forward, his grin growing as Keith’s face twisted into something between confusion and shock. “He said that he and Garrett made that for you.”

Shock won out as Keith stared at the box in his hand. He’s not sure how to feel about two almost strangers going out of their way to give him a gift, especially with how rude he was to Hunk. Wait.

“They made this?”

Shiro just smiled while his dad snorted. “Hard to tell what they made you if you don’t open it first, son.”

Keith scowled in reflex as he ignored both men once more and carefully picked the tape off one side of the box. He managed to keep the paper intact as he slid out a white box decorated with colorful stars, planets, and what might be cartoon aliens. They looked hand-drawn and something in Keith’s gut tightened. He pulled the lid off, afraid of smearing what’s probably permanent marker, and almost drops the box when a card slipped out. It fell to the floor and he rushed to put the box on the table, not even looking at the gift inside. He picked up the card, finding more doodles on the back before he flipped it over and was greeted by surprisingly neat handwriting in glittery blue ink.

Happy Holidays, Keith!

Hunk and I made this for you as a last-minute thing so don’t worry about having missed something. We just wanted to do something nice for you. :^)

Glad we’re friends!

Lance & Hunk

Keith stared at the card in his hand, totally unsure of what to do. He put it down gently on the lid and grabbed the box beside it. Nestled in the black fabric filling the box is a string of colorful translucent beads with a clasp on one end and a loop on the other. Keith carefully picked up the beads, noting the slight rattle under the fabric, but decided to investigate later.

The dark chain was no longer than his palm but is eye-catching with a series of stars in yellow, green, gray, red, and blue broken up by beads in a shade of indigo that itches at Keith’s mind.

His dad whistled, startling Keith into looking up at the amused, but impressed face of the man.

“A couple of kids made that? Looks almost professional.” His pleased smile clenched Keith’s heart even more than before. “You got some talented friends, Keith.”

Shiro laughed softly from Keith’s other side. “Both of them are top students for their creativity and innovation.” He frowned a bit as he looked at the chain in Keith’s hand. “Looks too short to be a bracelet, though.”

Keith looked back down and silently agreed with Shiro, not noticing his dad had taken the box until a clang sounded out through the room. He glanced over to see his dad give him a sheepish look and gestured towards the mess of metal in front of him. “Looks like they made it customizable.” He quirked a smile at Keith’s puzzled face. “These here are chain extensions.” He pulled out several gunmetal gray braided cords of different lengths that matched the beaded chain with a clasp and a loop at either end. He put them back in the box and reached for a large ring. “This is a key ring, probably to attach it to your lanyard or something.” He grinned as he picked up the last hook-like metal shape on the table. “This is if you ever wanna wear it as an earring.” He squinted at Keith suspiciously, grin still wide on his face. “Since when’d you get your ears pierced?”

Keith flushed and snatched the box back from his dad. “Since never. I don’t even know why that’s in there.” He carefully stuffed everything back into the box even going so far as folding the wrapping paper into it and tying the whole thing shut with the ribbon. He stared at the box some more, still unsure how to feel about any of this. “I don’t know why they even bothered.”

“Hey.” His dad softly nudged Keith's chin up until their eyes met. “They're your friends and it’s the holidays. Giving gifts is what people do when they care about you.”

An almost overwhelming surge of nostalgia washed through Keith at the familiarly thorough explanation. He missed having someone who understood him and knew when and how to explain things that flew over his head. He missed his dad.

The words registered a second later and the confusion bubbled back up. “We barely talked before the break though. Why would they care so much?”

Shiro gave an amused huff. “They care because you’re friends and you're friends because they care. It’s a vicious cycle.” He smiled sardonically at Keith's unamused expression. “What are you getting them in return?”

Keith felt all the blood drain from his face.

“I- I didn't get them anything!” He jumped from his seat and began pacing, agitation skyrocketing while the facts started cropping up in his head. “I didn’t know they would do this. I don’t know what they like or what to get them or even how to give anything to them. Christmas is in like two days!” He froze mid-step as a horrible thought popped into his head. “They’re going to hate me.”

“Woah. Okay, calm down and take a seat.” His dad placed two hands on his shoulders and guided him back down to his seat. He looked up desperately at the man for an answer. “They're not going to hate you. Just give them something when school picks back up. That gives you what? Two and a half weeks? Plenty of time.”

“Yeah,” Shiro piped in. “We'll take a look around after the actual holiday, so we don’t get swarmed. Just take these few days to think about what they might like.” He smiled kindly as he nudged the box back into Keith's hands. “Maybe you can make something too. Doesn’t have to be fancy, just something that shows you care.”

Keith looked down at the box in his hand, eyes caught on a little alien with Leia buns riding a shooting star over the edge.

“Okay. I- I think I can do that.”

“Great!” His dad slapped a hand on the table, making Keith jump. “Why don’t you tell me what you got planned for the new year, son? They’ll be calling time soon.”

Keith tried not to deflate at the reminder that this was only temporary, that he only had a few days a year of this, that his dad was still in prison. He pushed those negative emotions aside, focusing on his dad and putting on the brightest smile he could.

He reached for his plate and was surprised by a much larger slice than he had before. A slice with only a single bite taken out. He immediately glared at Shiro with his innocent face and empty dish.

“Shiro!”

After leaving his dad, they had gone to a few stores to get food and basic cookware, fending off the desperate and the crazed shoppers as best they could. He had looked around and hoped to find something that he could just slap his name on and give to the two boys, but every suggestion from Shiro felt wrong and anything that caught his eye just wasn’t right. He went to bed on Christmas Eve a little frustrated but hoping for better luck in the future.

They spent a peaceful Christmas together, having a homemade breakfast for once as they exchanged gifts. Keith loved the “They’re Out There” poster Shiro had given him, but the face Adam made seeing Shiro wear the “Dis-ARM-ingly Handsome” Buzz Lightyear shirt Keith gave him for their lunch date was what really made his day.

It wasn’t till the next day that Keith started to understand the frenzy that other people felt this time of year.

Shiro had taken him along to some larger stores with the hope of finding some gifts while shopping for more things for their apartment, but all they succeeded in was finding more and more things that wouldn’t work. He knew he was being difficult, but Keith never really had friends before and didn’t know Lance or Hunk well enough to have an idea of where to start.

Four days and countless stores later had Keith ready to switch campuses to avoid facing either boy ever again.

“Keith, please don’t run in the store.” Shiro called, exasperation lacing his voice as he pushed a half-full cart of random craft supplies and toys that Keith did not pick up.

Keith didn’t even bother answering him as he quickly walked, not run, down an aisle full of different colors of yarn. He didn’t even know why he came down here. He doubted Hunk and McClain- Lance. He signed off as Lance, so he probably wants you to call him Lance. He doubted Hunk and Lance would want a collection of all the knots Keith knows. He took a sharp left when he met the back wall of multicolored blank t-shirts and foam boards for the third time and tried not to growl in frustration.

He made a sharp left when the squeak of the cart behind him came too close and skipped the next two aisles that are filled with even more yarn. Why were there so many types of yarn? Did this place really need to have absolutely all of them?

Shiro called out to him again, but Keith ducked into the first yarn free aisle he could find and was surrounded by rows of spray paint. His eyes were drawn to the shelf full of metallic colors, one cap looking identical to the chain of the gift he was given. Keith felt his irritation start to ebb away as the other colors start to filter into his peripherals. He blinked and before he knew what he’s doing, he reached for the textured metallic deep blue spray paint further down the shelf.

“That’s a nice color.”

Keith nearly jumped and turned to scowl at Shiro who has his hands up in defense. His shoulders lowered and he turns away from the young man to thumb at the picture of a lawn chair painted the same shade of blue as the cap. It looks cool.

“Do you want just that one or do you want to try a set?”

A pack of five smaller canisters was placed in his free hand. The expected gold, silver, bronze combination glitter in the center of the pack while being bookended by a half-sized can of the blue in his other hand and the dark gray that snagged his attention in the first place.

“The set.” Keith decided as he put the single can back in its spot. He ignored the cart and continued to hold the pack while he made a quick scan along the rest of the shelves. Nothing else stood out to him, but Keith was sure that he’s made progress towards... something.

He set off at a much slower pace towards the opening of the aisle, away from the back wall of shirts and foamboards. He focused on the set in his hand and realized that the sample pictures on them are different from their full-sized counters. The lamps, flower pots, and picture frames he saw brought his stress levels to a much more manageable degree as an idea comes to mind.

He didn’t have to do something big or complicated. He didn’t even have to really make anything from scratch. While Mc-Lance and Hunk might have strung the beads together, he doubts the wove the cord or molded the clasp.

Keith stared at the painted jewelry stand on the gold can while he absentmindedly wove through the intersection into another part of the store. He just barely caught himself as he slipped on a package in the middle of the walkway as his fingers dug into the thin plastic keeping the set together and the edge of the shelf to his right.

The jostling knocked down three more boxes from the bottom shelve and an entire peg of packets from the display next to it, sending them sliding across his feet and cutting off the rest of the aisle. He took a moment to just glare at the mess before he knelt to put things back in order and put the paint set by his feet.

He took note of the vintage hoverbikes and cars on the surprisingly heavy boxes as he set them back onto the shelf of other miniature models before gathering up the packets. Some of them were still on the hook, so he twisted it into the empty space he figured they fell from with one hand as he held the rest of them in his other. He sorted through them, most of them hung onto the returned peg until he got to the last two and realized they’re what he slipped on in the first place.

He scowled on reflex, ready to leave them disorganized at the bottom of the display before an idea hits him.

He glanced at the paint near his feet and then to the packets in his hand.

He smiled.

Chapter Text

A hiss and a clang break the atmosphere of silent concentration surrounding the lone occupant of the room. A groan quickly follows as a newly acquired, but already well used roll of Garrison orange bandage tape is torn open.

“Goddamnit.” Keith hisses again as he looks at the numerous orange rings decorating his hands. He glares at the finally assembled metal sculptures that have no business being that sharp. He grabs the finishing glue to make sure not a damn thing moves out of place (except for the propellers which cause something to brighten inside him every time they spin) and freezes the last notch in place. A breath gusts out of him as he takes a minute to just bask in the progress he’s made in the three hours of meticulous work. He groans one last time, but slaps his thighs while getting up to grab the rest of his supplies and his (very) rough drawing of the end goal.

He ignores Shiro’s amused offers of help to carry anything as he waddles out of the apartment with a large bag on each arm and a sculpture in each hand until he gets to the front door. He stares at the knob for a moment before turning around to give Shiro his “help me but be quiet about it” glare. Shiro starts snickering but obliges in getting the door. He also, to Keith’s annoyance, follows him down after locking up.

“I don’t need help. It’s just spray paint.” Keith mutters.

“I know, but a second opinion never hurt anyone.” Shiro responds without missing a beat.

Keith grumbles all the way to the patio area of their apartment complex but did give Shiro a quiet “thanks” when the man collected some rocks to help hold down the tarp. He quickly grabs his first paint when Shiro coughs, holding out a cheap dust mask and swim goggles with a matching pair in his other hand. Keith rolls his eyes but dutifully puts them on before vigorously shaking his first color.

The few street art tutorials he watched said there was a learning curve, but it wasn’t until the first splatter of paint landed several inches away from the sculpture and onto the tarp that Keith realizes that this might be harder than anticipated.

Keith takes a breath and tries again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He scowls and is about to throw the can across the yard when Shiro pipes up from behind him. “Be patient with yourself and try again.”

Keith rises from his crouch and shakes off the minute tingles in his legs. He puffs an angry breath through his nose as he glares at the spots of paint that landed everywhere but the sculptures.

“Here.” Shiro offers with his phone in hand and a new tutorial already loaded. “The comments on this one look good.”

Keith scowls at the phone but takes it anyway and presses play before he frustrates himself even more. He waits through another safety equipment reel, absently noting that neither he nor Shiro bothered with gloves when the guy on screen finally breaks out the paints.

Apparently, starting the paint stream off of a project or on an already painted segment is ideal for keeping it pure and directing it to where they want it to go. He notes that the guy uses stencils, boards, and even plastic wrap to keep the colors confined to specific areas, which is exactly what Keith is trying to do.

He quickly grabs the bag of discarded packaging and digs around for the cardboard inserts he knows were inside the tarp. He holds it in triumph, tossing the phone back at Shiro with another word of thanks and gets back to work.

He was going to die.

It was the dawn of the second day (0700 hours on the first Tuesday back) and he doesn’t know how much longer he could hold out. These gifts were going to burn straight through his bag, then his back, right to his heart and kill him. Is this what heartburn was?

He was going to die.

It wasn’t his fault though! Keith had tried to find an opening to give his two friends (Friends! Two of them!) the gifts he made, but there was never any way to do it discreetly. Everyone had returned Sunday evening, but Keith made it a policy to stick to “unpacking” on those days since everywhere was seriously congested. He hadn’t even bothered entertaining the idea of navigating that mess to try and find them.

He didn’t even get to see Lance during the first class of the day since the other boy tested out of the entire Weapons course, let alone the Intro class Keith was stuck in three times a week now. In fact, he only briefly sees Lance in the halls when they change classes, making him realize that he might have a totally different schedule instead of just missing out on just the one class. Not to mention he didn’t share any classes with Hunk at all. He had no idea where the Engineering classes even were.

Actually, the only time that he was able to catch both boys was at lunch, but like hell was Keith going to hand over the gifts with a crowd watching.

He was, however, somewhat happy that he was able to get through welcoming the other boys back with a normal enough conversation about their classes so far. The smiles he got from his effort was nice, but only made the itch from the gifts in his bag all the worse.

It wasn’t until this morning that he had the bright idea to ambush them at their base (visit their dorm) and that would have to wait for after classes. And maybe after first doing some light recon to find their room.

He silently groans with his hands pressed to his eyes while he sits in the empty classroom, begging for time to move faster when he realizes how long he would have to wait to enact his plan.

He was going to die.

It was after about thirty minutes of pacing around his bed that Keith decides he can’t wait any longer and heads out with the gifts still tucked safely in his bag. It’s late enough that the sun is setting in the few windows he passes. Guess that means he doesn’t have to worry about missing curfew. Not that he really cares, but Shiro does and if he has to hear another lecture on self-discipline and mental health, he will scream.

Glancing at the hall guides he turns left while briefly touching his pocket where he kept the beaded chain in case Lance or Hunk brought it up. They never did and Keith thinks they won’t if he won’t. It’s nice in a way he isn’t used to but thinks he can adapt to easily.

Lost in thought, he reaches their room and freezes with his fist raised to knock. What if they’re not here? What if they’re still at dinner? What if they’re in one of the common areas with the other students? What if only one of them was here? What would he do with the other gift? Leave it? Give a lame excuse and come back later? But then he might wake them up. Should he just leave the gifts after knocking and running? What if someone steals them? Should he wait by the corner for them to open the door? What if they see him? He’d look so stupid!

He scowls at himself and gives the door three sharp knocks before he can continue to second guess himself. There was a loud crash, a squawk that Keith hasn’t heard in months, and then a beat of silence before a tentative “Just a minute…” comes through the door.

Keith snorts, unable to help himself and then immediately yelps when the door is yanked open way before the minute was up.

“Keith?!” Lance squeaks before flushing and backing off while coughing into his fist. His eyes meet Keith’s briefly as he gives him a soft smile . “Keith,” he says, much more calmly than before, “I- we weren’t expecting you.”

“Oh, hey Keith.” Says Hunk, his head popping up from behind Lance. “You wanna come in? The halls can get crowded right before the second dinner rush.”

“Uh, sure.” Keith says, not at all sure, but steps into the room anyway. He brushes past Lance who practically jumps out of the way to welcome him into their space.

The room is much cleaner than Keith expected. He thought that someone as… intense as Lance would have everything everywhere at all times while Hunk would be fighting for his life at one of the two desks in the shared room. Instead, things were split pretty evenly between the two of them.

It was clear which desk and bunk belonged to either boy. The top bunk is made up to Garrison standard right next to a corkboard covered in photos of the same people Keith saw last with Lance during the last Family Day. While the bottom one is more roughly put together with only a backpack spilling what looks like engine schematics and bundles of different wires onto the covers. Actually, it looks like Hunk is the messy one since one of the desks is absolutely covered in diagrams, scrap metals, and what might be a miniature soldering iron.

Keith is honestly a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of breakable things that Hunk has that he can only feel relief when Lance offers him the knocked over chair at the remarkably neat desk on the other side of the room. Lance huffs a laugh and blushes a bit as he quickly fixes said chair before plopping down on the bottom bunk while gracefully avoiding anything spilling out of the bag.

Keith gingerly takes the offered seat, laying his bag next to his legs and takes note that the desk only has a laptop playing soft music on one side and some journals stacked near the back corner. There’s an open notebook and tablet in the center of the desk, but the brief glance only reveals what looks like some kind of math. He doesn’t think they even had math this week yet, but Lance is also on a different schedule from him now so who knows how far ahead the other boy is by now.

“So,” Hunk says from where he’s fiddling with some wires in his own desk chair, breaking into the beginning of Keith’s gloomy thoughts. “What brings you by? Not that you can’t visit anytime! It’s just I didn’t even think you knew where our room was and I don’t think we actually told you the number either and we’ve only been sort of talking at lunch and-“

“Hunk, breathe.” Lance cuts in, a fond smile on his face as he turns from the now deeply breathing Hunk to a wide-eyed Keith. Keith, who feels a bit put on the spot by those eyes and all the questions.

Did he make a mistake? Was the gift just a- a- thing? But his dad said it meant something and that he should give something back and-

“Keith,” Lance breaks into his spiral this time, the understanding in his eyes making Keith feel small and seen. “Is there anything we can do for you? I doubt you need help with the homework, top student that you are.”

Keith blushes at the praise as he shakes his head at the offer. “I- uh,” He stutters out, nerves taking over for a moment. He’s gotten this far though, so he might as well go the whole mile. “I wanted to thank you! For the gift! And to give you guys these,” He blurts out, hands digging into his bag for the two boxes that Shiro wrapped for him in shiny red paper. He passes them both to Hunk since he’s the closest. “They’re not as nice as what you made and I’m sorry they’re so late, but I didn’t know how to get them to you during the brea-“

“Woah!” Hunk exclaims, cutting Keith off from his slow death by word vomit, having already unwrapped and unpacked the box. “Is this a B-17 FLYING FORTRESS?! How did you know that this was one of my favorite retro aircrafts? This paint job is something else, by the way, did you do that yourself? It’s amazing! Oh my God the propellers spin!”

Keith can only sit there with eyes wide as Hunk gushes over the model. He had no idea that it was one of Hunk’s favorites but is glad that the other boy liked the paintjob since he was especially careful with all the logos. Keith blushes and looks away when Hunk starts cooing over the propellers given that those were his favorite parts of the gift too. His eyes catch on Lance who was still sitting there with the box now unwrapped, but unopened in his hands. His fingers kept going over a spot that Keith knows has a little UFO drawing that he couldn’t help adding but was hoping that Lance would both find and never see.

As if feeling Keith’s eyes on him, Lance looks up to meet them. They hold the gaze for just a second before Lance ducks down and quietly opens the box while Hunk starts going on about the 4-engine system of his model. Blue eyes widen as he carefully reaches in for a similar model aircraft, but with a noticeably more angled design and colored with silvers and blues.

“Wow,” Lance breathes as he delicately handles it from the gunmetal gray base. “This is incredible, Keith.” He meets his eyes once more and gives that same soft smile that kills Keith every time. “Thank you.”

Keith is sure his whole face is on fire when Hunk notices the other gift.

“Oh cool! A B-1B Lancer! Hey, LANCE-er. That’s perfect!”

Lance visibly perks up at that while Keith cringes, hoping that neither boy would have picked up on that fact.

“Lancer, ey? Finally learned my name, Kogane?” Lance jokes, smile bright in his eyes.

Keith looks away, flush still heavy in his cheeks and mumbles under his breath.

“Didn’t really catch that, buddy.” Hunk says, grinning just as broadly as Lance now.

“You both used your first names in the card so…”

“Awwww!” Hunk coos, hand stretching to pat Keith on the back. “We’re just teasing, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, Keith,” Lance cuts in. “We’re just happy knowing you liked our gift so much! We seriously weren’t expecting anything in return.” His gaze suddenly turns mischievous when it slides over to Hunk. “Hunk definitely wasn’t expecting such an awesome birthday gift, I’m sure.”

Keith freezes.

“It’s your birthday?” He says tentatively to Hunk who looks shy all of a sudden.

“Um, yeah. Didn’t think I’d get anything on the actual day this year since I celebrated early with my family during New Years so this is a big surprise!” Seemingly overcome with emotion, Hunk stands and pulls Keith into an all-encompassing hug he was totally not expecting. "Thanks, buddy!"

"Welp. Now you've gone and made us friends for the rest of eternity. Prepare yourself for food so good you could cry and hugs so tight you will cry." Lance says dryly from somewhere on Keith’s right.

Keith can only laugh.

It’s just before curfew by the time Keith returns to his room. He just barely catches the sound of the RAs patrolling when he closes and locks the door. He waits a beat for footsteps to pass before moving to his bed and flopping on top of the covers with his arm over his eyes.

As much as he enjoyed hanging out with his friends it was definitely a lot more interaction than he was used to in a day. Keith was used to spending most of his days isolated despite being on a fully manned base. He’s spent most of his formative years with just his dad before being bounced around in the system until he met Shiro. Now though. Now he feels like he understands the term “social battery” because he feels utterly drained from just talking with Lance and Hunk for the past hour and a half.

He feels like he might learn the difference between alone and lonely.

Shaking his head of the thoughts, Keith rolls onto his side and feels something slither out of his pocket. He sits up quickly to find the beaded chain slipping down the dip towards the edge of the bed and the floor below. With his heart suddenly in his throat, he snatches the chain up and carefully inspects it for damage, waiting for his pulse to slow.

He doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, but he does know that he doesn't want to risk breaking or losing the first gift he had ever gotten from a friend. He gets out of bed, moving to crouch by the lockbox every student has bolted to the inside of their storage units and fiddles with the combination until it pops open to reveal the few keepsakes he has.

There are only a few things inside; a set of keys to Shiro’s car (that Shiro totally knows about, but only pretends he doesn’t), a collection of letters from his dad along with a photo of the two of them from before he was locked up, and a small bundle of dark cloth wrapped around what Keith knows to be the only memento has had from his mother. A thought niggles in his mind and before he knows it, he has the bundle unwrapped and is staring once more at the knife with the strange purple symbol glowing in the hilt. A clatter to his side brings his attention back to the chain and his eyes widen when he notices how similar in color the indigo beads were to the symbol.

“How…” he mutters to himself, baffled by the coincidence, especially when he notices the way the beads seem to glow in the slight shadow of the closet space. He rushes to turn the lights off in his room leaving the knife and the chain to glow clearly in the darkness. ‘They’re different…’ he realizes as the beads on the chain glow more muted versions of their original colors while the knife seems to almost glow from within. It’s always done that though; being made of some kind of luminescent stone he’s never been able to find the name. The beads, however, have the much more familiar light of glow-in-the-dark colors that Keith remembers getting painted on his face at one of the few carnivals his dad took him to as a kid.

He turns the lights back on, the soft colors of the beads changing back to their vibrant selves and the knife’s glow dulling from ultraviolet to indigo. He briefly wonders at the coincidence again. ‘They match your eyes…’ says the Lance in his mind and he can’t fight the flush this time as he rushes back to the lockbox.

Keith quickly wraps up the knife and replaces all his keepsakes, only pausing when he’s holding the chain once more. On a whim he wraps it around the hilt of his blade twice and snicks the clasp closed.

It’s a perfect fit.