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Chapter Text

   It took two people (Pidge and Hunk) waving their hands front of his face and a pinch to his side (from Pidge) for him to come back from the astral plane that was his subconscious. A whine erupted from his throat as he massaged his side, glaring at the culprit. “Are you even listening?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. Lance shrugged.

   “Shiro was talking about his brother,” Hunk said, nodding towards the senior. “He says he might transfer here.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Shiro, confused. Since when does he have a brother? “Yeah, he got kicked out from G-Tech for behavioral issues,” Shiro said nonchalantly, continuing to eat his peach fruit cup.

   The table quieted, everyone’s eyebrows rose high. Shiro froze mid-chew, eyes widening when he realized what he had implied. “Oh my god, he’s a good kid I swear! He’s just a bit of a hot-head and a little short-tempered!” Shiro said, raising his hands in defense.

   “I’m sure he’s great, Shiro.” Romelle replied sweetly, nudging at her girlfriend. “Right, Allura?” Allura only glared at the blonde before turning to Shiro. “G-Tech? As in G-Tech, our rival school?” She questioned, crossing her arms.

   As Shiro was about to answer, Adam quickly butted in, slapping a hand over Shiro’s mouth. “Yes, G-Tech. And for the record, they’re not our rival school just because your ex goes there.” He said, giving Allura a pointed look. Allura rolled her eyes as Pidge joined the conversation excitedly.

   “Oh god, G-Tech?! That’s fucking crazy! Seriously?! You have to be some kind of prodigy to get in there!” She said, leaning over the table. Adam scoffed. “I’ll remind you that you have to be quote-on-quote some kind of prodigy to get into this school as well.”

   Pidge shrugged, stuffing another mozzarella stick into her mouth. “Details, details.” She muttered. Lance almost laughed. Almost.

   As the conversation began to drift off onto another subject, Lance found himself thinking about Shiro’s mystery brother. How come he’s never mentioned him before? How come they go to different schools? And G-Tech? He must be a fucking genius. He had to admit, he was sort of jealous, and maybe sort of imitated by the mere thought of Shiro’s brother. I mean, a G-Tech student transferring to Altean Academy? Unheard of.

   “He’s sorta got that edgy, emo, lone-wolf vibe going on. Oh god, don’t tell him I said that, he’d probably knee me in the stomach.” Shiro laughed. Ah, Lance must’ve tuned in when the conversation did a complete 360, the table now asking about Shiro’s brother again.

   “Will do,” Pidge smirked. “But I bet he wears leather jackets and combat boots,” The group erupted in laughter and Lance stifled a chuckle. “I mean, yeah.” Shiro agreed. Adam snorted.

   “So, is he hot?” Pidge asked, plopping her chin in her hand. Shiro almost choked on his drink as Hunk and Romelle snickered. “Pidge, you’re gay.” Allura pointed out, smiling wide.

   Pidge shrugged. “So? I wanna know just in case lover boy here decides to make a move. Y’know, so I can prepare to witness the cringe and rejection.” She joked, elbowing Lance’s side. Everyone laughed.

   Six months ago he would’ve blushed and told her to fuck off, or shut up, or something. But now he only sat there, hurt overcoming his features. Is that really all he’s good for? Flirting and being the butt of every joke? He glared at Pidge, crossing his arms defensively. He wanted to scream at her. At all of them. Tell them what amazing fucking friends they all were.

   I don’t fucking do that anymore, I don’t. If you guys cared or fucking payed attention to me for once you’d know that. Are you guys really that fucking dense? Are you really?

   As he was about to answer, about to speak for the first time in months, Pidge pressed a finger against his lips, smiling playfully. “Hush now Lance, y’know it’s true.” She said. Lance’s shoulders sagged as his hands fell into his lap. Any angry remarks he was about to shout instantly died on his tongue when she said it. That stupid fucking phrase. The one that lead him to stop. To stop flirting. To stop speaking. To stop being himself.

   It was meant to be some sort of experiment. Admittedly, a rather twisted one, but an experiment nonetheless. He had not meant to take it this far, but unfortunately, he did.

   Lance McClain has not spoken in over half a year. No one has noticed.

   Lance didn’t remember what exactly started it, but he did remember who did. “Hush now, Lance.” Allura had said, before continuing to speak. Lance was rather shocked to say the least, no one had ever just bluntly told him to shut up before. He knew he talked too much, too loudly and sometimes too fast to comprehend, but it was just in his nature, really.

   Sure, it was sorta stereo typical of him to blame it on being cuban, but it was the truth nonetheless. Have you ever met a “normal” speaking latino? I think not. He knew he could be annoying sometimes, and maybe his jokes hit a little too close to home on some occasions, but he never intended to offend anyone. He always meant well.

   He never thought about it too much because no one was really bothered by it, they were used to his talkative nature. At least he thought no one was bothered by it. Apparently he was wrong.

   After Allura’s ability to shut him up with three words was addressed by the group, “Hush now, Lance,” seemed to have become some sort of inside joke. Anytime Lance would talk to much, flirt too much, or say something accidently offensive, someone would say “Hush now Lance,” or even “Hush Lance.”

   It was amusing at first, the group would only use it when Lance got too out of hand with bad jokes or terrible flirting. It was humorous even. Lance would always laugh it off and roll his eyes. But, it suddenly became more than just a stupid joke.

   Anytime Lance would try to say something, anything, he’d be cut off by one of them going “Hush Lance.” At that point, Lance was annoyed by it, maybe even a bit hurt. All he wanted was to ask what they were doing later.

   Lance had shrugged it off and pushed it into the back of his mind. He figured it was his fault for being too, well, Lance. Everyone just assumed he would crack a joke or say something stupid every time he would open his mouth. So it was his fault. For being too predictable, too annoying.

   So it wasn’t their fault, it was his. He didn’t blame them for being sick of him and his god awful jokes. The point is, he is annoying, and he would try his hardest not to be from then on.

   So he stopped talking as often, tried to speak quieter, and tried to make less jokes. It worked, sort of, for a while. No one would groan when he tried to speak and no one would roll their eyes when he tried to engage in a genuine conversation. But, that phrase still stuck.

   If it wasn’t Allura, it was Pidge, if it wasn’t Romelle, it was Hunk. He once tried to ask what time it was and all he got was Pidge grumbling a “Hush Lance,” before glaring at him.

   That’s when he decided to conduct his experiment. He stopped speaking unless it was absolutely necessary. He only spoke when spoken to. It was only supposed to last a week. He just wanted to see if anyone would notice. Because they’re his friends, they would, wouldn’t they? But after a week, no one said anything.

   After two weeks, nothing. But Lance was persistent, he kept going. After a month, two months; nothing but radio silence. At this point, Lance became discouraged, he stopped speaking all together. He started taking antidepressants.

   They never noticed. It was the ultimate “fuck you.”

   Lance was taken away from his thoughts when Hunk shook his shoulders. “Lance, dude, the bell rang. Let’s get to class.” He said, starting to walk away.

Lance blinked. Had he really zoned out that long? He shook his head and stood from the table, quickly grabbing his bag from underneath it. He followed Hunk silently, towards their fifth period.

Chapter Text

   It’s not that Keith hated G-Tech, (actually, that’s debatable) it’s just the people there were a bit…uh, robotic?

   Everyone was serious about their grades and ever increasing GPA’s. Normally, Keith would be grateful for the nonexistent distractions that they provided, but ultimately, that’s what fueled his urge to act out.

   Everyone and everything, for that matter, was so bland and boring. Everyday he went through the same routine which repeated itself over and over and over again.

   The classes were rigorous and ambitious, (they were probably the only reason why the school was so “great”) they challenged the way you thought and perceived things. Keith appreciated that, the difficult courses and the mandatory above and beyond comprehension levels.

   The only downside (at least for Keith) was that the classes available (both core and elective) were so similar to one another, too similar.

  Usually, there is a clear line separating the core subjects, but at G-Tech the line seemed so blurred, it was practically nonexistent. Sometimes, Keith couldn’t tell if he was in world history or pre-calculus.

   Besides the classes being so weird, there was another thing that made G-Tech unenjoyable for Keith. The literal robots in which they called students.

   People here spoke in a monotonous manner and barely ever interacted with anyone else when it came to, y’know, being a normal human being.

  To make things worse, most people thought they were significantly better than rest, although they were all usually just typical snobby rich kids, ones that were book smart but nothing else. They were not the sharpest or brightest.

Quantity not quality.

“Congrats on getting kicked out, Kogane,” someone snickered behind him. Keith turned and huffed at the sight. “Thanks, I try,” he replied sarcastically.

   Now, there were a few people who could act semi-human at times. Some of these people included Lotor (weird name, I know) and his little lesbian posse. (Keith doesn’t call them that to be rude, they all just happen to be lesbians)

  Lotor was an semi-okay guy in Keith’s opinion. Yes, he was a bit narcissistic (he has a god complex, Keith is sure of it) and a bit of an asshole, but he can be decent (and even sorta nice) if he sets his mind to it. That side of Lotor was revealed a month after he met him, when he started dating a very nice girl who attended a different school.

   Lotor was head over heels for this girl and was always an absolute gentleman to her. It was kinda sweet, to be honest. Lotor would come to school every morning with high spirits and a smile on his face. He wouldn’t bother Keith with insults or witty remarks and sometimes, he’d actually try to hold a genuine conversation with him.

   Who ever that girl was had a big influence on Lotor’s demeanor and attitude. Keith had never met her, but he would always silently thank her for Lotor’s drastic change in personality.

   But, for whatever reason, the pair broke up about half way through the summer of sophomore year, and Keith wouldn't be surprised if Lotor swore revenge on her and her family. He had returned to normal by the time school lead in once more, as if someone suddenly flipped the asshole switch back on. Only this time, about ten times worse than the year before. Keith didn’t really blame him, Lotor’s ex really fucked him up.

   “Yeah, okay,” Lotor rolled his eyes. “Seriously though, congrats on being the world's biggest dumbass. Do you realize how many people would kill to be in your position?”

  Keith shrugged, eyes drifting away from Lotor’s face towards the crowded carloop. He half wished Shiro would just appear so he can go the fuck home.

   Lotor had a point though. He was the world’s biggest dumbass. G-Tech wasn’t a school you could just apply for and then get in. You were required to have a clean record free of detentions and referrals and at least a 4.0 GPA. You also had to pass this extremely difficult entrance exam to see if you met the criteria of what kids they were looking for.

   The school’s acceptance rate was a small 10 percent because of this. But their graduation rate was a whopping 99 percent and the percent of students moving forward to college was a 95.5. The school’s statistics were beyond impressive.

   Keith always had good grades, dating back all the way to elementary school. His behavior though? Um…no comment.

   (He may or may not had faked the clean record part to get into G-Tech)

  “I’m glad you’re leaving, you didn’t deserve your spot anyway. Where are you going now? Back to Sunrise?” Lotor taunted.

  Sunrise High School was the school Keith had transferred from in the beginning of sophomore year. It was his home school.

   Keith rolled his eyes once more and looked back at Lotor, a small smirk growing on his lips. “No, i’m going to Altean Academy. Ever heard of it?” He teased. Lotor tensed and sputtered audibly. “What the fu-–of course! Of course you would go off running to the rival school!”

  Keith snorted. Although Altean Academy technically was their rival school, (in academics and in what little amount of sports G-Tech played) Keith knew Lotor was just upset because his ex still goes there.

  Hey, maybe Keith could find her and they’d both make Lotor’s life a living hell just for the fun of it. Wouldn’t that just be great?

   “Have fun doing the same shit for two more years.” Keith said as he spotted Shiro near the back of the line. Fuck, I really need to get my license.

   Without bothering to stick around for Lotor’s response, Keith jogged over to his brother’s car, quickly slipping in the passenger's seat. Shiro immediately reached over the console and smacked the back of Keith’s head without a warning.

   “Ow! What the fuck?!” Keith screeched, reaching up to rub at his head. Shiro glared at him before responding in a (somewhat) fake cheer. “Congratulations on getting kicked out of one of the top ten schools in the country!” He grinned falsely. “You must be fucking proud!”

   “Passive-aggressive much?” Keith asked, glaring at him. “Total dumbass much?” Shiro smirked, facing the road again. He made a (totally inconspicuous) U turn within the line and took a right, leaving the school premises.

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m a dumbass,” Keith muttered staring out the window. They passed a flower shop and two thrift stores before Keith spoke up again. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t do anything. Plus, this school sucks anyway. I’m fucking glad they kicked me out.”

   Keith could practically feel Shiro rolling his eyes beside him. “First of all,” Shiro started, lifting one finger to emphasise his upcoming explanation.

   “Verbally assaulting and almost physically assaulting another student is extremely frowned upon. Not just in school, everywhere. You need to stop getting into fights.” Shiro lifted another finger as he turned left. “Second of all, if you don’t like G-Tech, then why the fuck did you apply?”

   Keith shrugged, shrinking back into his seat. “Spite,” he answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing ever. Shiro almost laughed out loud. Actually, he did.

  “Spite?! Are you kidding?” He giggled. “Really?”

   Keith nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. “My geometry teacher was…an asshole. One time I mentioned that G-Tech would be a pretty ideal school go to, y’know, because of all the opportunities you have after you graduate, right? So I asked him if it be a good idea for me to apply for sophomore year, and do you know what that motherfucker did? He fucking laughed at me. Told me it was never gonna happen and I should just give up before my hopes got too high,” Keith ranted as Shiro snickered along.

   “So y’know what I did? I fucking applied. I knew that I knew my shit so I took the fucking entrance exam and I fucking passed. Alright? Then, about a week later, I got my fucking acceptance letter online so I printed that shit out, went to Sunrise in the middle of the fucking summer, mind you, and straight up barged into Mr. Kae’s classroom, smacked my letter on his desk, and told him to go fuck himself.”

   Shiro burst into laughter at the end of Keith’s story, pulling into their driveway. “Are you shitting me? Really?” He asked, grinning wide. Keith scoffed, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Why the fuck would I make that up? This is what you get when you go to that nerd camp each year. You miss all the fun.” He said, getting out of the car.

  Shiro followed behind him, shutting his door. “It’s not a nerd camp, Keith.”

  Keith rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.” he teased, reaching inside his bag to retrieve the house keys.

   “Yeah, sure,” Shiro mimicked, walking up to where Keith was semi-fumbling with his keys. As Keith unlocks the door, they both shuffle inside, Shiro asking the inevitable question. “So, what are you gonna do anyway?”

  Keith throws his bag on the floor and makes his way into the kitchen, Shiro still following. “I dunno. I was thinking I could apply for Altean, I mean, you go there. How hard can it be?” Keith smirks, dodging the hand that comes up to smack him. “I’m kidding,” he laughs, raising his hands in defense.

   Shiro flips him off, walking into the living room. Keith laughs. Going to the same school wouldn’t be so bad. Would it?

Chapter Text

   Lance had never been one to get lost in his thoughts, to suddenly space out when something important was happening.

  Though, he did have moments where we would hyperfocus on anything within arms reach, whether it be an obnoxious hangnail or a due-tomorrow-essay.

  Sometimes, he’d sorta zone out when he’s trying to memorize a phrase or even when he simply just has something on his mind. This was one of those times.

  He had woken up five minutes ago, right before his alarm was set to sound. He had rolled over and shut it off, sitting up on his bed. He stared at his TV, which was propped up on a small nightstand at the foot of his bed.

  Of course it was turned off, being this early in the morning (5:30), but he could have sworn he had fell asleep with it on.

  He sulked at his own reflection, blinking tiredly. What if, he just…cut them off? His friends that is.

  What if he just…stopped? Stopped hanging out with them, stopped taking their bullshit? What if he ignored them indefinitely? He could pull it off, couldn’t he?

  It would only be the rest of junior and senior year. He wouldn’t see them after that. He could do it… right?

;

  “This coffee fucking sucks,” Pidge whined, pushing the school iced coffee away from her. Shiro instantly leaned over, grabbing the cup and tentatively taking a sip. He shrugged, passing the cup over to Adam, who was on his right. “S’not that bad, Pidge.” Shiro admitted. Adam hummed.

  “Yeah, tastes like dark chocolate.” He said, placing the cup back onto the table. Pidge perched her elbows on the table, frowning. “It’s supposed to be caramel,” She huffed, leaning her cheek into her hand. Adam blinked. “Point taken. This coffee sucks.”

  The table went quiet. There wasn’t much to talk about anyway. Finals and EOC’s were coming up and no one was happy about it. Lance understood. Altean Academy’s exams were a bitch. He had learned that the year before.

  Say something. C’mon.

  Pidge had whipped out her phone, scrolling through it lazily, Hunk looking over her shoulder. Shiro, Adam, and Matt were busy talking about something Lance couldn’t decipher, Allura and Romelle were quietly whispering to each other.

  Now’s your chance! Say something! Anything! C’mon!

  Lance scooted closer towards Hunk and Pidge, preparing himself to speak. Just…talk. Say something…

  He smiled wide, opening his mouth to speak when suddenly, Hunk beat him to it. “We can go to that café down the street. I heard they had good coffee and tea there,” he smiled. Lance frowned, shrinking back into himself.

  Good fucking job. Better luck next time, you annoying little shit.

  “Lance, you okay?” Hunk asked, frowning. He seemed…worried? Lance smiled wearily. “…Yes.” He croaked. Wow, when’s the last time he’s spoken? Three days ago?

  I’m really not. Have you noticed?

  “You sure?” Hunk insisted, offering a smile. Lance only nodded, repeating his previous response.

   No…

   “Okay. Well, are you coming?” He asked, standing from his seat. Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “…What?”

  Hunk pointed back at the rest of the group with his thumb, they were walking away, towards the school parking lot. “We decided to go to the café. You must’ve spaced out, man. You’ve been doing that a lot, by the way.”

  Lance stood from the empty table. “Yeah, i’m coming.” He said. Hunk smiled as Lance fell into step beside him. They walked towards the parking lot.

 ;

   No…he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that. Lance couldn’t just…no. Not to them.

  What if…he left? Everything. Everyone. What if he got up and left? Would anyone notice?

  Of course someone would notice, you fucking idiot.

  But would anyone care? He barely contributes to anything anymore. He doesn’t even fucking talk anymore for fucksake. He was never much of an asset anyways.

  Lance turned his head towards the door, which was being opened slowly. His older sister Veronica slipped in quietly, nearly jumping five feet in the air when she spotted Lance.

  “Oh, I thought you were still asleep. I came to wake you but, you’re awake so, uh,” Veronica shifted her weight from one foot to another. Lance sent her a confused glance.

  “It’s six forty two, uh, team Punk should be here in a few so, get dressed. Mom wants you eat some toast, at least.” She explained, offering a smile. Lance nodded. He must of zoned out for a while.

  Veronica left his room and he quickly got dressed in black jeans and a blue baseball tee. As he laced up his shoes, he decided to throw on a jean jacket as well.

  He shuffled into the shared bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush and smearing toothpaste onto it. As he brushed his teeth, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

  Lance sighed. If the bags under his eyes could speak, they’d yell at him for not taking his fucking meds the day before. What? People make mistakes.

  He spit out all the minty foam in his mouth and quickly threw cold water at his face, drying off with a semi clean hand towel. He hopes he won’t break out because of it.

  He leaves the bathroom, slipping into the kitchen to say good morning before he left.

  “Leandro, come algo hijo. Ahora, ” his mom said sternly as she came up behind him. Lance hummed, nodding.

   “Te tomaste las pastillas?” She asked. Lance hummed again, shaking his head. “Pues te las tomas, okay?” His mom scolds as he nods his head again.

  She points to the empty toaster. “Haste pan tostado o comes fruta, no me importa, pero comes.” She insists. Lance huffed, placing bread into the toaster. He understands his mother’s worry, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t annoyed or bothered by it sometimes.

  Lance flinched as the toast popped out and Veronica stole a piece. “Thanks. Anyway, I got to get to school. They’re already throwing essays at us,” She explains, hurrying out of the kitchen.

  Lance didn’t understand why she still lived with them when she could just get a dorm at her college. She did get a full ride after all.

  Lance shrugged to himself and ate the remaining piece of bread, walking back to the bathroom. He picked around the shelf next to the mirror until he found the bottles he was looking for. He swallowed his meds dry, placing the bottles back where they were.

  “Leandro! Ya llego Katie!” His mom shouted from the kitchen. Lance sighed, grabbing his bag from the living room and jogging towards the front door. His mom was already there, holding the door open.

  “Te las tomastes?” Is the first thing she asks. Lance groans inwardly and nods. “Bueno. Si vas a salir después mi texteas, okay?” She says, smiling wearily. Lance nods again, walking towards Matt’s car.

   “Love you!” She calls after him. Lance turns back for second, offering a tight smile.

Love you too.

;

  “Keith, what the fuck?!”

  Keith groaned into his pillow, trying to block out the noise. He was well aware his alarm had been going off for the past ten minutes, but alas, it was much to far, and he was much to warm.

  “Get up! It’s six forty! Altean starts at seven thirty, you idiot!” Shiro yelled, grabbing one of Keith’s many pillows and chucking one at his head. “Turn that shit off already! Get dressed!” He said, leaving the room without closing the door.

  “Fuck you!” Keith yelled, the pillow muffling the sound. He groaned again, finally sitting up. At least G-Tech had the fucking decency to start at eight am.

  Keith reached over to turn his alarm off and proceeded to sulk at the wall for an extra five minutes. “Adam brought breakfast!” He heard Shiro yell from somewhere in the house.

   Keith immediately came to, running out of his room and into the kitchen, where Adam was setting down a few paper bags on the countertop.

  “Sarah’s?!” Keith exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag Adam held out for him. “Will you fucking marry me?!” Keith asked Adam as Shiro walked into the room.

  “Fuck no, get your own boyfriend.” He snorted, playfully shoving Keith with his shoulder. Adam laughed as Keith flipped Shiro off. “Now now, ladies. You’re both pretty,” he smiled.

  Keith rolled his eyes and went back to his room to change into something socially acceptable. A pair of ripped jeans and a red hoodie should do the trick.

  Keith then slipped on his docs and shoved a pair of fingerless gloves onto his hands, walking into his bathroom to brush his teeth.

  “Keith! Let’s go!” Shiro shouted from the kitchen. Keith made a series of loud gurgling noises, hoping Shiro would get the message. “Now!” His older brother insisted.

   Keith spat the remaining toothpaste in his mouth at the sink, under the running water. “Adam! Tell your boyfriend to fuck off!” He shouted back, rinsing his mouth out.

  Adam’s laughter rang through the household as Keith grabbed his breakfast sandwich from the Sarah’s bag, stuffing half of it into his mouth. He grabbed his bag at the doorway and jogged towards the front door, where Adam and Shiro were waiting.

  “Dude, slow down.” Shiro laughed, referring to the sandwich in his mouth. Keith chewed what was in his mouth and took the rest into his hand. “You’re the one who was rushing me,” Keith glared.

  Shiro only shrugged, gently ushering both his boyfriend and brother out of the house. “Can’t be late for your first day, Keith. Altean is a pain to figure out.” He said, shutting the door and locking it up.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Keith said between mouthfuls of his sandwich.

  The three of them crawled into Shiro’s car, Adam sat in the passenger's seat and Keith sat in the back, right in the middle. Where seat belts did not apply to him.

  As Adam plugged in his phone and scrolled through a playlist, Shiro pulled out their driveway, taking a right.

  The soothing melody of I Wanna Be Yours starts to play through the speakers as Keith finishes his food. “That’s pretty gay,” he comments towards Adam, who had chosen the song.

   He hears Shiro choke on air as Adam looks back and smirks at him. “That’s the point,” He says, turning to Shiro. “Right?” Shiro’s face goes red as he glares at his boyfriend.

  Keith snorts and shakes his head. Doing so he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror.

  Keith raises his eyebrows. “Damn, y’all let me leave the house looking like this?” He asks, fixing his hair. Shiro Nose Flares™ and Adam stifles a laugh with his hand. Keith huffs, leaning back.

  They passed a small café and three thrift stores before taking a right into a parking lot. There was a small sign standing from a patch of grass reading Altean Academy: Student Parking.

  “Go to the front office, it’s in J building. Get your schedule and meet us back at the commissary.” Shiro said, pulling into a spot. Both Adam and Shiro exited the car, leaving Keith to wonder.

   What the fuck is a commissary?

;

  “Hey, it’s an even day isn't it?” Pidge asks as Lance climbs into the car. Lance furrows his eyebrows, nodding. “Ha! Told you!” She gloats towards her brother who slumps into the driver’s seat. Matt huffs. “Fuck off. I’m forgetful, okay?”

  Pidge snickers into her hand. “You’ve been doing this for four years, Matty.” She points out. Matt glares at her. “I will crash your side of the car into a bridge,” He says.

  Lance makes a noise of protest and Matt looks back, grinning. “Sorry Lance,” He says. Hunk snorts. “You would sink the ship you’re working on just to kill the captain?”

  Matt takes a left. “First of all, Pidgeon here is not the captain, second of all, if she was, then yes, yes I would.” He admits. Hunk and Pidge share a laugh as Lance leans onto the back of the passenger’s seat, poking at Pidge’s shoulder. She looks back raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  Lance points at the aux cord, then points at Pidge’s phone, which was in her hand. “Oh, okay.” She says, plugging her phone in.

  “Okay so, The Wombats, Fall Out Boy or Cavetown. Choose wisely.” She says. Matt blows a raspberry. “Those are very different from each other.”

  Pidge smirks. “That’s the point. Fine, how about, Grouplove, The 1975, or Waterparks?” She asks. Matt rolls his eyes. “Just go back to Cavetown.” He says, taking a right. Pidge hums. “Alright,” She says, putting the Lemon Boy album on shuffle.

   Taking Care of Things comes out through the speakers and Lance sighs. He leans back into his seat, staring out the window. It was still pretty dark, the sun was just beginning to rise, creating a soft pink in the sky just above the horizon.

  About four songs later (and their own acapella rendition of Lemon Boy), Matt pulled into the student parking lot, humming along to Another One of Those Days. He parked the minivan (yes, minivan, it’s very useful, mind you) and the four of them crawled out.

  They walked towards their usual table, a round one, right outside the commissary. Allura and Romelle were already there, discussing something over an open binder and textbook. “Yo!” Pidge greeted, sitting on the bench to the left of the two juniors. “Hello, Pidge.” Romelle smiled as Allura grunted in acknowledgement.

  “What’s that?” Hunk asked, taking a seat next to Pidge. Lance sat on the next bench on Hunk’s left and in front of the two girls. “Homework Allura forgot to do,” Romelle answered. Allura groaned again, putting down her mechanical pencil. “I thought it was an odd day,” she pouted.

  Matt came up from behind her and glared at Pidge. “Ha! See?! I’m not the only one!” He exclaimed. Pidge only rolled her eyes and leaned over Allura’s assignment. “What is it for?” She asked. Allura huffed. “Anatomy.”

  Matt looked over Allura’s shoulder, making an “aha!” sound. “This is simple stuff! Look this is…”

  Lance tuned out immediately, not caring about the terminology Matt was using to help Allura. He looked over to Hunk, who was busy texting someone on his phone (probably his girlfriend Shay, judging by the smile on his face), and Pidge, who was trying to one up Matt by explaining vocabulary to Allura in further depth.

   She’s a sophomore, how would she know any of that in the first place? Isn’t she in chemistry?

  Lance faintly wondered about Shiro and Adam’s whereabouts. Shouldn’t they be here already? Lance began to lightly tap on the table with his fingers. Are they okay?

  Pidge and Matt’s playful argument then got a little too loud and Hunk’s giggles got a little too high. Lance blinked. He began to tap faster to a nonexistent beat.

  He felt something throb at the back of his head and heard his heartbeat pound into his eardrums.

   Are they okay? Nothing happened did it? Are they, are they okay? Are they, are

   “Hey guys!”

  Lance let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They’re here. They’re okay.

  Lance turned his head towards Shiro, Adam, and…

   Oh.

; 

  Luckily, the student parking lot was right behind K building, so it didn’t take long for Keith to find J building.

(Thank you alphabet)

  Once he located the main office (which was downstairs thankfully), he went up to the front desk and awkwardly asked about his schedule. The lady there smiled kindly and looked him up in the system, telling him to “Hold on a second,” so she could print it out.

  Keith shifted his weight from one foot to another as he waited for the schedule. Once it was printed, the lady gave it to him and smiled once more, telling him to have a nice day. Keith offered a tight lipped smile and quickly left the office, not being able to stand the atmosphere.

  He took a deep breath as he stepped outside, looking over the paper in his hands. Keith blinked. He had no idea what or where these classes were and school started in about…

 Keith turned on his phone. Twenty minutes.

  Blowing a raspberry, Keith took a look at his surroundings. Shiro told him to meet back at the commissary, but unfortunately, he had no idea where or (more importantly) what the fuck it was.

  After shooting a quick text to his brother, Keith decided to walk forwards, away from K and J building. He figured he’d find A through I building back there.

  Keith felt a buzz in his hand and he quickly skimmed over Shiro’s reply.

   its basically the cafeteria. its d building.

  Keith furrowed his eyebrows. Then why don’t they just call it cafeteria? Why commissary?

   Keith shook his head, continuing down his path. The buildings here had their letter painted on their sides, so Keith just had to find one with a D.

   G…F…E…H…Commissary!

  “Keith! There you are!” He heard Shiro shout from behind him. Keith turned around, confused. “Here I am. I thought you guys were at the commissary?”

  Adam shoved Shiro lightly. “We went to F building real quick, don’t worry about it.” He said. Shiro only shrugged, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “I have some friends I want you to meet!” He grinned.

  Keith poked at Shiro’s prosthetic. “If they’re anything like Adam, I’m down.” He admitted. “Well, I guess not then.” Shiro pouted. Adam laughed, shoving Shiro’s shoulder. “Oh my god, Takashi! That’s mean!”

  Shiro snickered, pulling his brother along towards the commissary. They stopped in front of a circular table already occupied by six people.

   Wow, Shiro does have friends.

  “Hi guys!” His brother chirped. Half of the table turned towards the three of them. One girl with short brown hair and circular rimmed glasses immediately stood, running over to Keith.

  “I’m Pidge! The lesbian asexual!” She smirked, holding out her hand. Shiro made a choking noise and glared at her. “Pidge!” He whined.

  Pidge shrugged as Keith chuckled. “I’m Keith. I am a homosexual.” He stated monotonously before smirking back and taking her hand in his. Pidge seemed pleased by this.

  “I like him,” she said to Shiro before going back to her bench. “I’m Hunk. I’m a junior, Pidge’s a sophomore.” Said the boy in a yellow sweater. Keith hummed in acknowledgement.

  A pretty girl with long blonde hair looked up from a binder and smiled at Keith. “I’m Romelle, and this is my girlfriend Allura. We’re juniors,” She said sweetly in a (very familiar) accent. The girl beside her waved without looking up. She had long silvery platinum hair.

  “I’m Matt, Pidge’s brother. I’m a senior,” The boy with features strikingly similar to Pidge said. No wonder.  

  “That’s Loverboy Lance! AKA, Loudmouth Lance,” Pidge then added, pointing to a boy to Keith’s left. Keith blinked.

  Lance had curly brown hair and tan skin which contrasted pleasantly against his bright blue eyes. He wore a pair of black jeans (with the ankles rolled up) and a blue baseball tee. Dirty blue Chuck Taylors adorned his feet.

  The back side of his jean jacket was pink, purple, and blue. Keith wondered if he had painted it himself. Lance’s fingernails were a bright yellow, an obnoxious color, really. They were even chipped.

  Keith caught sight of his bag. It was more of a computer bag, a satchel. It was plain, save the patch that read VisiBIlity in pink, purple, and blue.

  Keith’s eyes flickered back to Lance, only to find him staring already, a hesitant smile on his face. Keith’s breath hitched.

   Oh.

Chapter Text

   Upon one week of Shiro’s brother transfering to Altean Academy, Lance had determined that long haired teenager was nothing short of… weird.

  Altean Academy had block scheduling, meaning that there were odd days and there were even days. An odd day consisted of classes (or “blocks”) 1, 3, 5, and 7, whereas even days were blocks 2, 4, 6, and 7.

  As it turns out, Keith had a majority of his  classes (1, 2, 4, 5, and 7) with Lance. So of course, it made sense that Lance would be the one Keith would cling onto for the rest if the day, and even the day after.

  But what didn’t make sense (at least to Lance) was the fact that Keith still stuck around even after Lance had left him to his own devices.

  He didn’t mind him really, Keith was an okay guy. He was polite (when he needed to be) and even sort of quiet. (Which meant Lance couldn’t call him annoying or irritating)

   All in all, he was okay. A bit clingy, but okay. So Lance had no idea why he felt so uneasy when Keith hung around him. (Whether it be during lunch or in one of their many shared classes)

  So instead of Lance coming to terms with what he really felt around Keith, (which was nothing, mind you) he played off as Keith being a weird guy. Which, technically, he kind of was. (At least to Lance)

   Keith sits with Lance an all their shared classes and has silently declared the empty spot at the lunch table (next to Lance) as his. Lance figured it was because Keith was new, and he didn’t know much about the school yet, so he just stuck to familiar things. (That being his older brother’s friends and table, which included Lance in one way or the other)

   But that…was just not the case. Keith gone out of his way to befriend Lance, to try to hold a genuine conversation with him. Lance found this to be weird.

  Keith was a generally quiet guy, he was a bit kept to himself and like Shiro had said, he had bit of a “lone-wolf vibe going on.” He didn’t talk to other classmates and always did his work quietly.

  Yet, Lance seemed to be an exception. Keith would poke at him constantly, trying to start a conversation, (and Lance was semi-impressed with his determination) but was always met with the same result. Nothing.

  Lance wondered if that’s what fueled Keith’s useless commentary (and his daily granola bar offers that Lance always silently accepted because he was a nice person) towards him. If all those pitiful attempts were just to get Lance to recorpiate.

  Sometimes, Lance would want respond to his self deprecating jokes, and maybe, tell some of his own. Sometimes, Lance had the greatest urge to answer all of Keith’s mundane questions. Things like “Coffee or tea?” or “Red’s a nice color, what do you think?”

  Lance wanted to speak, (for the first time in months) he really did. But the cons overruled the pros immensely. He didn’t want to risk this newfound (sorta fragile, sorta odd) friendship with Keith.

  He didn’t want to risk it all by saying anything too annoying and he didn’t want to be too much for Keith to handle . So he didn’t respond. He decided that humming and mere shakes of his head would be enough.

;

  Lance was… interesting, to say the least. He was nothing like the person Pidge portrayed him as.

  Keith had played him off as one of those bubbly, energetic people who spoke a lot and sometimes too fast, due to Pidge’s adjectives.

  “Loverboy Lance,”

  He must be a huge flirt, right?

   “AKA Loudmouth Lance!”

  He must talk too loudly too often, right?

  But he didn’t. He wasn’t that person. It was…weird. This bothered Keith for some reason. Was it supposed to be ironic?

   Oh, he barely speaks, so we call him a loudmouth!

   That would be stupid. It was stupid.

  Keith had shown the whole group his schedule and Romelle had kindly pointed out that he had one class with her and Allura and the rest of his classes with Lance that day.

   Great, He had thought, stuck with the loudmouth.

   But Lance didn’t utter a word when the bell rang. He only stood from the table and began to guide Keith to their first class, looking back occasionally to make sure he was still there.

  He didn’t utter a word when they entered the classroom, and he didn’t say anything when Keith asked him where he should sit. He only shrugged and Keith just decided to take the seat next to his.

  He didn’t speak during class, never answered a question, and usually ignored everyone in the room. Loudmouth? He was far from it. He didn’t even bat an eyelash when a pretty girl tried to start a conversation with him. Loverboy? I think not.

  So why would his friends call him that? If it was a joke, (which Keith assumed it was) it was a pretty sick one. Keith thought it to be borderline offensive, since Lance didn’t even fucking speak.

  Sure, Keith has met a few quiet people before, (hell, he himself was sort of quiet) but Lance was something else.

  It was like he didn’t want to talk, so he had no temptation to do so. This bothered Keith a lot .

  He didn’t think that was healthy, at least not mentally. After two classes, Keith had began to think that Lance was mute. (Oh god, he hopes he’s not)

   The evidence was all there, but he had no right to assume, so he never brought it up. To anyone. Instead, he talked to Lance like he would to any other person. (Or, he tried to, Lance would never answer)

   He sat with him in class and during lunch, constantly attempting to jumpstart a conversation. And he would fail, every single time. But Keith didn’t let that discourage him. When Lance was ready to talk, he’ll be there.

  After a mere week of knowing Lance McClain, Keith decided he was worth the effort. (And the wait)

Chapter Text

   Keith had heard it a total of thirteen times since transfering to Altean Academy.

  “Hush now, Lance.” Allura joked, holding up a finger. Make that fourteen.

  Keith was beyond confused. That phrase just felt so…out of place? What were they trying to do? Get Lance to be quiet? Well congratu-fucking-lations. You don’t need to say anything because he’s never fucking spoken in the first place!

   Stupid, dumb phrase. What does it mean?

   “Huh?” Pidge asked suddenly. Keith furrowed his eyebrows as Pidge stared at him. “What?”

  Pidge rose her eyebrows. “You asked something, yeah?” She insisted. Keith blinked. He must’ve spoken out loud.

  “Uh, yeah. Um, what does it mean?” Keith asked awkwardly. Everyone stared, confused. “What?” Hunk asked, wanting him to clarify. Keith’s eyes flickered towards Lance (who was already staring)  before answering. “Y’know, it . What does it mean?” He explained poorly, not wanting to repeat the phrase.

  Hunk rose an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to elaborate,” he said. Keith groaned internally. But I don’t want to.

   “That fucking phrase. Hush Lance or whatever the fuck. What does it mean?” He questioned, losing his (significantly little amount of) patience. “Oh! It’s just an inside joke, you wouldn’t get it.” Allura answered, waving her hand for effect. Yeah, I really don’t.

  “Yeah,” Pidge spoke up. “We use it when Lance talks too much–”

   The fuck?

   “–or when he makes a shitty joke. Or y’know, says something inappropriate or irrelevant.”

   Again, the fuck?

  “Okay so…why do you guys use it so much then?” Keith asks. Pidge sends him a look. “Don’t you have, like, five classes with Lance?”

  Keith nods his head, confused. “Oh my god, I feel bad for you.” Allura jokes. Keith sat there, still confused.

  “Then you of all people should know. Lance can’t shut the fuck up. Ever,” Pidge continued. Hunk nodded solemnly. “No offense, buddy. But it’s a lot to handle sometimes,” he says towards Lance.

  Lance looked devastated.

  And Keith is even more confused. “Well, um, Lance doesn’t really speak much. He’s kinda quiet,” Keith admits, looking over to Lance. Lance is looking back at him, an unreadable expression taking over his features.

  Oh how he wishes Lance was more of an open book.

  Pidge snorts and Allura scoffs. “Yeah, okay, sure,” She snickers. “We’ll believe it when we see it,” Allura adds. Keith then glares at her. Well then you must be fucking blind.  

   Lance bumps into Keith’s side as he begins to sway gently in his seat, his fingers drumming a random rhythm onto the table. Keith sighs.

  Now, Keith has never really had friends before  (he’s positive that Shiro, Adam, and those two bearable classmates from eighth grade don’t count),  but he’s pretty fucking sure that friends didn’t treat each other the way the others treat Lance.

  Starting with the fact that they rarely ever acknowledge him unless it’s to repeat that stupid phrase. Whenever Lance would do something that involved noise or when he’d hum ( or even when he came so close to actually fucking speaking ) someone would immediately cut him off by going “Hush Lance.” And it was fucking irritating.

   Like, what the fuck?

   First of all, it was fucking rude. Imagine if every time you’d try to fucking speak (or tap your foot or snap your fingers or–) someone would just tell you to fuck off. (They didn’t say fuck off, but they might as well) That’s what everyday was like for Lance. (At Least, Keith assumed that’s what it was like)

   No fucking wonder the guy doesn’t speak. No one fucking lets him.

  Second of all, it just doesn’t make any fucking sense! What the fuck is wrong with Shiro’s friends? (And also Shiro himself because he’s said it once too)

   What the fuck are they trying to accomplish? Sure, it’s ironic, (because Lance doesn’t speak) but it wasn’t funny. (Because Lance doesn’t fucking speak)

  Are they really that…dense? Do they not know that their “loudmouth” of a friend could actually be mute and (most likely) not mentally stable?

  Keith wondered if Lance had thought about these things before. As Lance stops swaying and drumming, Keith reaches into his backpack, pulling out a chocolate chip granola bar.

  And other thing, Lance barely ate. Keith noticed this his third day sitting with him. Lance had gotten Pidge an extra lunch by using his account and then only taking a small juice box for himself. Keith gave him his granola bar that day.

  The next day, Lance just didn’t get lunch altogether. Keith got worried for his health and have him his granola bar again.

  He started bringing two after that.

  Keith poked Lance’s side with the bar and offered a small smile. “Here’s your daily dose,” he joked. Lance smiled back, taking the bar. He teared open the wrapper and chucked half of it into his mouth.

  Keith leaned his cheek onto his left hand, turning his body to face Lance. Lance had finished the bar and unconsciously began to pat his thighs to a nonexistent beat.

  Keith faintly wondered if Lance was ever bothered by it. The whole “Hush Lance,” thing that is. Did he take it as a joke? Did he just brush it off like it was nothing? Did he hurt? Was Keith overreacting? Did he–

   Why don’t you ask?

  Keith froze. He scowled at himself. He couldn’t just… ask.

   And why not?

  Keith glared down at his milk carton. What the fuck? That would be rude you fucking idiot. Keith huffed as he dealt with this argument between himself and his subconscious, making Lance turn towards him, confused.

   Ask him.

  Keith smiled wearily, taking a deep breath. “Um, well…” Keith started, eyes averting from Lance’s face. “Does…does it–” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he was about to ask. What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t ask that.

  But Lance was already listening, searching Keith’s face curiously. Keith froze, his mind searching around for a rebound question.

  His eyes landed on a cup of iced coffee, held by slender hands of a student one table over. Keith suddenly remembers the coffee shop down the street. Keith looked back at Lance.

  “Uh, I mean, um, would you like to…get coffee with me later?”

Chapter Text

   Lance wriggled his hands together nervously. He was supposed to get coffee with Keith in twenty minutes or so.

  Speaking of Keith, he was right beside him, working on today’s english assignment while listening to music. Lance sighed, Keith hasn’t spoken to him since lunch (which was about two hours ago), and Lance was a bit worried.

   Did he regret asking Lance to go get a coffee? Is he going to back out?

  Lance shook his head and kept working on his own assignment. He shouldn’t think about that.

   What you should think about is why he asked you in the first place.

   Lance stopped writing, letting his pencil fall from his grasp. This grabbed Keith’s attention, for he turned his head towards Lance, raising an eyebrow as his hair fell into his eyes.

   Lance felt his cheeks warm at the sight, so he turned away, staring down at his paper which lay unfinished.

   Why did he ask?

  Lance tapped at his thighs as he thought back to lunch.

   Lance sat next to Keith, trying to pay attention to whoever was speaking at the moment. Of course, he failed, because he had no idea who was talking. He knew that voice, he knew he knew that voice (and that damned phrase too), but his mind couldn’t put a face to it, it refused to.

  And Keith was so close, he couldn’t pay attention to anything else besides his warm presence.

  Lance suddenly tuned in when Keith began to speak. “Uh, yeah. Um, what does it mean?”

  Lance’s breath hitched. What? What is he talking about?

  “What?” Hunk then asked. Lance looked towards Keith. Exactly. What are you talking about?

   Keith glanced towards Lance and then back at Hunk. Lance would be lying if he said his stomach didn’t churn.

  “Y’know, it .What does it mean?” Keith said. Wow, thanks for clarifying.

  Lance squinted at Keith’s profile, noticing how long his hair was. Lance found himself stifling a laugh. It’s a mullet…Oh my god, my crush has a mullet .

   Lance eyes widened slightly. My…crush?

   “That fucking phrase. Hush Lance or whatever the fuck. What does it mean?” Keith added after Hunk had said…um, something.

  Lance froze, going rigid. He sat straighter in his seat. He waited for a response from his…friends.

“Oh! It’s just an inside joke, you wouldn’t get it.” Allura brushed off. Lance blinked.

   A joke…a joke. A fucking joke .

  “Yeah,” Pidge added. “We use it when Lance talks too much–”

   Talks too much…I talk…too much…

   “–or when he makes a shitty joke. Or y’know, says something inappropriate or irrelevant.”

   A shitty joke…inappropriate… irrelevant . Irrelevant…irrelevant… i’m irrelevant .

   Half of Lance expected Keith to nod his head and drop the conversation, maybe even agree with what Pidge was saying. Thirty percent of him hoped he wouldn’t. The other twenty percent was still floating around in his mindscape, not paying attention to what was going on.

  “Okay so…why do you guys use it so much then?” Keith then asked. Lance squinted at him.

   …What? Is he being serious? Is he…Has he…

Pidge began to speak, then Allura. Lance didn’t listen to any of it until Hunk spoke up.

   “No offense, buddy. But it’s a lot to handle sometimes,” he admitted. In a brilliant moment of word association, Lance picked up what they were talking about.

   I talk to much. It’s too much to handle…

   Lance could almost laugh. He could almost cry. Instead, he opted to stay quiet, and stare at the wall behind Allura and Romelle.

  “Well, um, Lance doesn’t really speak much. He’s kinda quiet,” Keith then says. Lance looks at him again.

   …I…what? What?

  Lance zones out once more, staring Keith’s hair.

   I’m quiet…I don’t…I…What?

   Lance begins to sway unconsciously, his fingers tapping at the the table. Thoughts swirl through head, clouding his eyes.

   Mullet, he thinks, A fucking mullet. He… mullet. Knows…he knows…a fucking…mullet. He knows…Oh god…he knows…

   Keith pokes at Lance’s side. Part of Lance comes to. Part of Lance stays in the astral plane. He doesn't hear what Keith says, he only hears the crinkling sound of a granola bar.

  …oh.

  Lance only smiles back and takes it, tearing it open and stuffing half into his mouth.

   Chocolate…He always brought chocolate…

   Lance finishes the bar and places the wrapper onto Hunk’s empty food tray. His hands go down to pat at his thighs as he tries to pay attention to what the others are talking about.

  But of course, like every other time he’s tried to pay attention, he just…can’t. His mind is too occupied with undecided thoughts about, well…Keith .

  Keith, who has never hushed him once. Keith, who was always so nice. Keith, who just…

   “He’s kinda quiet…”

  Lance should be…relieved. Over the moon…but, he kinda wasn’t. The thought of someone being so observant was…terrifying.

  Keith then made a frustrated noise, causing Lance to look at him curiously. Is he okay?

   “Um, well…” he starts, looking away from Lance. “Does…does it–” He cuts himself off, eyes falling back on him, searching nervously. Lance is confused.

  Keith averts his eyes once more, and Lance almost turns around to try to spot whatever he was looking at. “Uh, I mean, um, would you like to…get coffee with me later?”

  Lance freezes. …Like a date? A date-date?

Keith waits for his response, looking borderline terrified. About the same way Lance feels.

  Lance can only nod and smile nervously. He’s still unsure of what Keith is trying to accomplish, but it can’t be that bad, right?

  Keith looks almost relieved at his answer, Lance assumes Keith thought he would say no. But why would he say no?

  “The one down the street, sound good?” Keith asks, smiling shyly. Lance smiles and nods.

   That was two classes ago (including this one) . It was an even day, so Lance hadn’t seen him since lunch.

  “Lance,” Keith lightly shook at his shoulder. “Bell rang, you okay?”

  Lance stood from his seat, dazed. He nodded nonchalantly and began to stuff his things into his bag. Keith stood with him, waiting.

  Lance stepped back, waving towards the door. Keith nodded briefly, leaving the room with Lance trailing behind him.

;

  After ten minutes of awkwardly deciding how to get there (“I have Shiro’s keys, but I don’t have my license…or permit…Do you have a license? Permit? Okay, that’s cool. You can drive. I can pass as twenty, right?”), both boys arrived at Yami’s Café, which was a cute, cozy coffee shop run by a small latino family.

  Keith hadn’t been there before, but judging by Lance’s strides towards the entrance, he was familiar with the place.

  As Keith trailed behind Lance, a small bell above the door rang, and a combination of a cocoa and vanilla aroma filled their nostrils. The center of shop was littered with small two person tables and the walls were lined with booths made for six people.

   There was a small area at the corner of the shop in which a few couches stood, with bean bags sitting at their feet.

  Keith sighed deeply, content with the atmosphere of the shop. Lance turned to look at him, pointing towards one of the booths. Keith nodded.

  “I’ll order. Would you like coffee or tea?” He asked, knowing Lance did better with responding to one-or-the-other questions. Lance only smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Keith seemed to get the hint.

  “I’ll surprise you then,” Keith shrugged as well, walking up to the counter. He quickly looked over the pastry dishes in the glass display before the barista walked up.

  They had short curly hair and dark brown eyes. Their name tag read Laur. “Hello, what would you like today?” They asked sweetly. Keith blinked up at the menu before speaking.

  “One small black coffee and earl grey, please. And, uh, two fudge brownies.” He said, beginning to shift his weight from one leg to the other.

  Laur nodded, taking a small cup and a sharpie in their hand. “And you are?”

  Keith felt himself hesitate for a second. Just a second. “Very gay,” he replied. Laur snorted, writing it down. “Same,” they said. Keith found himself smirking as he payed for the drinks.

  “Shouldn’t take long, though the tea might.” They continued. “Sugar and creamers are right over there.” Laur pointed at a small station near the display case.

  Keith nodded, stepping aside to let the person behind him order. He lingered around the sugars and creamers, waiting for the coffee and tea.

  Keith bounces on the balls of his feet, searching for Lance’s booth. He almost skimmed across it, due to there being two people instead of one. But he instantly recognized the bracelet around Lance’s right wrist. Keith hated that bracelet.

  It was a stretchy kind, so every time he’d pull it at it, it would slap his wrist with the same amount of strength.

  Keith found himself glaring at the bracelet, and when he looked up to see who Lance was sitting with, he ended up glaring at the person instead.

  It was Lotor. Oh my god , it was Lotor . He was sitting across from Lance, smirk prominent on his face. Keith fumed. He was flirting .

  Lance looked confused, uncomfortable, and irritated all at once. He looked like he was about to tell Lotor off.

   No. He can’t talk, not now. Not to Lotor. His first words…

  “Very gay,” Laur teased, holding the the coffee and tea. Keith smiled tightly, taking the drinks and the small bag of brownies. He thanked them quietly and quickly poured as much sugar as he could into his cup. He liked his coffee black, but sweet. He then hurried over to the booth.

  He slid in right next to Lance, ignoring the look he got from Lotor. “Here’s your tea, babe.” He smiled. Lance sighed in relief, slightly nodding towards the stranger who tried to hit on him.

  Keith smirked, looking Lotor in the eye as he swung an arm over Lance’s shoulders, Lance leaning into his touch.

  “Seriously?” Lotor rose eyebrow, glaring at him. Keith smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, Lotor. With my boyfriend. Now would you please fuck off?”

  Lotor scowled at him. “Boyfriend? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He scoffed. He looked back at Lance, who was smiling innocently. “Really?” Lotor asked. Lance shrugged, nodding.

  Lotor huffed, standing from the booth. “Just another addition to the list of things you don’t deserve, I guess.” He sneered towards Keith, walking away. Keith scoffed.

  How did Lotor know about this place anyway? It was far from G-Tech, and most students there went to a Starbucks nearby anyway.

  As soon as Lotor left the shop, Keith removed his arm and scooted away from Lance. “I’m sorry about him. He’s an asshole from G-Tech. He was my bully, or he would’ve been, if I ever gave a fuck about whatever he thought of me.” Keith explained, taking a brownie out of the bag.

  “But between you and me, he just hates me because I took one of his friend’s spots when I applied to G-Tech.” Keith rolled his eyes, unwrapping his brownie.

  “Not my fault her grades were below mine. She needed to step the fuck up. It’s G-Tech we’re talking about.” He rambled, taking a bite from the brownie.

  “And, this is really…mmm,” Keith hummed. In his defense, it was an insanely good brownie. Lance laughed at Keith’s expression, unwrapping his own brownie.

  Keith looked back at him, turning a deep red. Lance’s eyes crinkled in amusement, and a dimple on the right side of his chin popped out. Keith found himself sighing.

  Lance’s laugh was like a soothing melody. Keith wanted to listen to it on repeat.

Chapter Text

   After about five consecutive minutes of snap, snap, snap, Lance’s bracelet had finally had enough, and it snapped right in his hands.

  Keith smirked at the broken band, silently thanking whatever god was up there for stopping the abuse towards Lance’s wrist. Lance huffed, staring at the bracelet sadly.

  Keith sighed and turned to a blank page in his notebook, quickly scribbling a note. He pushed the book to his right, towards Lance, who read it over with a sad expression on his face.

  He took a pencil and wrote down a response, making sure to hide it from their teacher, who was currently giving a boring lecture. He passed the notebook back and Keith took a moment to admire Lance’s capital-letters-only handwriting. It was vastly different from his own inconsistent bubble(ish) letters. He skimmed it over. 

   it finally broke huh? Keith had written.

   Yea, and it was a gift from my niece Nadia, Lance wrote back, a small frowny face beside Nadia.

  Keith hummed in amusement, raising an eyebrow at Lance’s over exaggerated pout. Lance only rolled his eyes and shook his head, hands going down to his lap. He played with his own fingers, flicking at his right hand with his left.

  Keith hummed again and began to doodle on the page, trying to listen to whatever their teacher was still droning on about. Sighing, Keith gives up on his mini art project after about seven minutes.

  Keith turns towards Lance, who is staring intently at the teacher, and it seemed as if he were actually paying attention. Keith would’ve thought so, but he knew better.

  Lance just…wasn’t like that. If there is one thing Keith knew for sure, it was that Lance couldn’t focus for shit. Poor guy was always nudging at Keith’s shoulders, silently asking him to explain what was going on most of the time.

  But of course, Keith being Keith, he never knew what was going on either. He never bothered paying attention to lectures because, most of the time, whatever powerpoint was being shown was also on Managebac, a website used by the county to keep record of grades and assignments.

  In Keith’s first week of transferring, he learned that Lance wasn’t the most attentive person. He would space out when the teacher spoke and would usually get notes from someone else in the classroom.  

  But sometimes, he would have moments were he did focus, just, too much. You wouldn’t be able to get his attention when he got into his hyper-focus mode. Keith learned to not bother him when it happened. It didn’t happen often, though.  

  So Keith started paying attention to lectures to help Lance when he zoned out, because half the time, Lance didn’t even realize he was spacing out. So within the past three weeks, they’ve created a system.  

  Keith would (try to) pay attention to lectures and discussions, writing down as much information as he can, and Lance would copy off of him. Lance would help Keith study for anatomy and pre-calculus in return.

   (Not that he needed it, Lance was aware Keith knew he didn’t need it, but it's nice to have an excuse to hang out anyway)  

   Keith squints at Lance’s profile, realizing that Lance wasn’t looking at the teacher, but the board behind her. Lance was staring at the date, completely deaf when it came to the teacher’s lesson.

  His hands were flat on thighs, fingertips digging into the rips of his jeans. Keith nudged at Lance’s calf with his foot.

  Lance jumps slightly, startled. He whips his head towards Keith, furrowing his eyebrows. Keith slid his notebook toward him, scribbling six lines. He nodded at it, hoping Lance got the idea.

  Thankfully, he did. He smiled and picked up his pencil, drawing a sloppy ‘o’ in the center. They continued the game while Keith half-listened to their teacher.

  Lance had written down Mullet - 3 and :) - 1 on the top of the page after five rounds of tic tac toe. Keith had whisper shouted how “it’s not a mullet, it’s just long!” Lance had snickered and crossed it out, writing down emo instead. Keith had glared at him and crossed out his happy face, writing down lanky binch.

  Lance had to muffle his laugh with his hand so he wouldn’t disrupt the class. Keith was the one snickering this time.

  They stopped playing after that, Keith going back to halfway listening and Lance going back staring at the date.  

  Their teacher eventually stopped talking (thank fuck) and had given out an assignment, due next class. Keith didn’t bother starting it, he just stuffed it into his binder for after school instead.

  Keith highly doubted Lance would get it started, so he took his copy as well. “We can do it at the library,” he whispered to Lance. Lance only stared at the date, his hands in his lap again. Only this time, they were balled up, his fingernails digging into his palms, and not lightly.

  Keith panicked, his right hand reaching out to snatch Lance’s left wrist. Lance flinched, looking back at him, eyes wide.

   Keith offered a small smile. “You’re hurting yourself,” he whispered, showing Lance his palm.

  Lance looked down at his hand, relaxing his clenched fists. A “sorry” bubbles up in Lance’s throat, but he refuses to let it out.

  Lance sent Keith a wobbly smile, attempting to reassure him. Keith wasn’t buying it.

  “Here,” Keith murmured, slipping his hand into Lance’s, heat rising up his face. He smiled bashfully, and Lance squeezed his hand in return.

  Keith turned away, pulling out his phone and trying to stay calm.  

  But he was holding Lance’s hand, how the fuck was he supposed to stay calm?

  He glared at his screen, trying to control the blush on his cheeks. But of course, it was useless, he was cursed with red face for the rest of the class.

  And Lance had found himself in a similar situation, trying not to worry about how sweaty his hands must be right now. And trying not to think about how warm Keith’s hand felt in his.

  So he didn’t think, he brought Keith’s hand onto his lap and played around with his fingers. Lance had been surprised to find out how short they were. He unclasped Keith’s hand from his and compared them instead.

  Keith’s hands weren’t small, per say, but they were dainty. Not to mention, soft. Lance would’ve never guessed.

  As Keith watched Lance mess with his hand, he smiled to himself. Their hands were roughly the same size, but Lance’s fingers were long and slender, while Keith’s were shorter. And they fit so perfect together, Keith might swoon. 

  It just felt…nice…and right.

  Lance then tangled their fingers together again, his hand firmly grasping Keith’s, his fingers curling against his knuckles. Lance pulled at Keith’s fingers, leaving them outstretched.

  He began to lightly rub and scratch at the pads of his fingers, as if they were just some kind of putty he was toying with. He pressed his thumbnail onto Keith’s thumb, creating a light crescent mark. He did this to every finger and then repeated it over and over.  

  It didn’t hurt, Lance never dug in too deep, so Keith didn’t mind. After a few minutes of playing with Keith’s fingers, Lance suddenly stopped and went to grab a pencil with his free hand.

  He began to write down something Keith couldn’t read until the paper was slid towards him.  

   Everyones gonna go to the plaza this weekend, wanna come?

  Lance smiled hopefully when Keith looked back up at him. Lance squeezed his hand. Keith chuckled.

  “Sure.”

Chapter Text

   The Tronvol Plaza was more of an outdoor mall, if anything else. There were a variety of name brand stores, small unrecognizable shops, and restaurants of all types.

  Keith, being one of those kids who never goes out except for school, had never been there before, but he knows that Shiro had a part time job in one of the smaller shops there once.

  Keith assumes this is why Shiro chose it as the group’s hangout, because he was so familiar with the area.

  “We usually just walk around, get something to eat and sometimes shop if we have money on us,” Shiro explains, waving his prosthetic for effect. Adam nods besides him, glancing back at Keith to make sure he was following along.

  “We meet in the center of the plaza. At the huge fountain with those lions spitting out water, can’t miss it.” Adam adds as the three of them weave through the small crowds of people. Saturdays were one of Tronvol’s busiest days, it being during weekend.

  “Okay, cool.” Keith mused, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Shiro glanced at him and hummed in amusement. He was still in shock, he had not expected Keith to want to go with them.

  In fact, Shiro assumed he wouldn’t want to, so he never asked him. It wasn’t until Shiro told him he was going out that Keith jumped from his bed, and slipped his shoes on, tagging along. It was odd, to say the least.

  Keith had sort of cleared it up by adding that Lance had invited him on friday, but Shiro still didn’t really understand why Keith decided to come. It’s not like Lance was forcing him to.

  “There’s Pidge and Allura,” Adam pointed out as they approached the Tronvol fountain. Keith shuffled behind Shiro, not really wanting to make conversation with either of those girls.

  “What’s up fuckers?” Pidge grinned, waving from her spot a the fountain. “Hey Pigeon,” Shiro responded, saluting back.

  “Where are the others?” Adam questioned, sitting down beside Allura. Allura blew a raspberry.

  “Um, I pretty sure Matt’s not coming, he’s with his girlfriend today. Romelle will be here in a few, Hunk and Shay are hanging out, so they might be here in an hour or so. And Lance? No idea, not sure if he’s even coming.”

  “Fucking better,” Keith mumbled under his breath, frowning. There was no way he was about to hang out with his brother and his boyfriend, and a bunch of girls he wasn’t even sure he liked or not.

  “I see you got the vampire out of his cave,” Pidge smirked. Shiro and Adam laughed and Keith found himself staring down at Pidge. Did he like her?

   She’s…cool. I guess. I can do without the Lance comments though.

  “Hello!” Romelle chirped as she made her way over to the group. She greeted everyone sweetly and wedged herself in between her girlfriend and Adam.

   Romelle’s sweet. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  “Hey love,” Allura smiled, pressing a sloppy kiss onto Romelle’s cheek. Allura though?

   On thin fucking ice.

  Though Allura was okay and all, something was just off with her, it made Keith iffy. Not to mention her Lance comments were worse than Pidge’s (and hers mostly ticked Keith off). It’s just…the way she said them made them a lot more personal, and (what Keith assumed was) too close to home.

  Allura’s probably the one who says “Hush Lance,” the most out of all of them (minus Keith of course). Pidge following close behind. Keith just wasn’t that fond of her, that’s all.

  “Okay so, what are we feeling today, ladies?” Pidge spoke up, swinging her feet. “What?” Keith asked, mildly confused.

  “Oh that’s right. You don’t know. Welcome to the Gays, Keith. We hang around and buy shit to eat. What are we feeling today?” Pidge asked again, looking around.

  “Five guys?” Romelle quipped, tilting her head. “Haven’t been there in a while.”

  Adam shook his head. “Not it the mood for greasy,” Shiro nodded in agreement. Keith scoffed. “How can you guys not be constantly in the mood for greasy?” He asked, looking semi-offended.

  Shiro rolled his eyes and nudged at his shoulder. “Because, we’re normal people. Normal people don’t constantly crave bacon cheeseburgers, Keith. Just you and your unhealthy diet of greasy.”

  Keith stuck out his tongue and nudged Shiro back as Pidge whisper shouted, “Expose him!”

  “There’s a Sarah’s here. We can get milkshakes,” Romelle offered. Keith immediately perked up at the mention of the diner. “Really?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah, but going there is absolutely out of the question,” Allura crossed her arms, giving Romelle a small glare. Keith sagged his shoulders. “Why?” He asked.

  “It’s on the east side of the plaza, off limits.” Allura added. Keith raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as well.

  “Not actually off limits. It’s just G-Tech territory. Y’know, our rival school. Also, Allura’s ex hangs out around there most of the time.” Pidge elaborated, seeing as Allura didn’t want to.

  Keith grunted, letting his arms fall down to his sides. Keith thought back to Lotor at the mention of G-Tech. A light bulb went off.

  “Your ex goes to G-Tech?” He asks Allura. She squints at him. “Yes…Why do you ask?”

  Keith thinks back to the time Lotor wasn’t an asshole. He thinks of Lotor’s mystery girlfriend who went to Altean Academy.

  Keith found himself smirking. “Was it a long haired guy named Lotor?” He questioned smugly. He saw Allura visibly tense up and give him the deadliest glare she could muster.

  Keith smiled, unfazed. “I’ll take that as a yes,” He mused. Allura huffed. “You know him?” She asked, still glaring. Keith shrugged. “You can say that,” he suggested. What was he suggesting? No idea.

  “Oh my god, you’re fucking Allura’s ex?” Pidge piped up, something twinkling in her eyes. Keith instantly lost his smug demeanor, pulling a look of utter betrayal and disgust.

  “No, what the fuck?!” He exclaimed. “Why would you think that?!”

  Pidge screamed back with the same amount of disbelief. “I don’t know! You implied it!” She accused, gesturing towards him. “I did n–no I didn’t, i’m–i’m not fucking her ex!” Keith stuttered, close to going red in the face.

  “Ok then!” Pidge agreed, leaning back on her hands. Keith huffed. “Lotor can go fuck himself honestly. What did you ever see in him?” He asked.

  Allura only shrugged and that conversation died off thanks to Adam “Aha!”-ing as if he just discovered the meaning of life (which he has by the way, the answer is death. Do what you want with that information).

  “Carvel!” He beamed, smiling wide. Pidge and Romelle were quick to agree, standing from their spots on the fountain. “Fuck yeah, let’s do that!” Pidge laughed, pointing towards (what Keith assumed was) the direction of the ice cream shop.

  The rest if the uncomplete group cheered over exaggeratedly, following her south. Keith followed reluctantly, the Lance-themed protest dying on his lips. If he doesn’t show up Keith swears he won’t speak to him ever again.

  Keith knows he’s overreacting, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t low-key pissed. And a little betrayed even.

  Keith also knows he didn’t mean it when he thought about not talking to Lance ever again. (Plot Twist! Keith’s a huge liar! Who would’ve guessed?)

   He might do something else to express his irritation though. Like spam Lance’s phone until it crashes.

  He finds himself doing something similar to that when he sits down at the semi-crowded Carvel, murmuring something about a sundae dasher towards Shiro when he asks what he wanted. He sends two texts.

   where r u

  ?

  Keith waits for a response as Shiro hands him a cup filled with ice cream and fudge bits. He licks at the whipped cream through the small hole of the plastic top. There’s no response from Lance.

   we’re at carvel btw

  Keith texts, tuning out the group’s current conversation, not caring enough to listen. He doesn’t look up when Hunk and Shay join them, saying something along the lines of cutting their date short to hang out with all of them. Keith’s scoff goes unnoticed.

  He removes the lid from his cup and picks at the fudge with his plastic spoon. Keith only looks up when Lance was mentioned.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. I wonder where he is,” Allura says, plucking out a m&m from her sundae cup and flicking it into her mouth. Keith can’t help but scoff.

  “Like you care,” He borderline sneers. Allura turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” She asks, sounding offended.

   The audacity.

  “Well, that’s enough social interaction for today. See you guys eventually.” Keith stands from his seat, pocketing his phone and taking his cup in his hands. “Bye,” he mutters, leaving the shop.

  He gets about thirty steps away from the Carvel before bumping into someone when he turns a corner. “Shit, Lance?” Keith curses, steadying the person in front of him with his free hand.

  Luckily, it is Lance, so Keith doesn’t have to deal with some asshole cursing him out. “Sorry,” Keith apologizes. Lance smiles sheepishly, shaking his head.

  He then looks at Keith with a confused expression, tilting his head. Ignoring the redness of his cheeks, Keith explains.

  “They’re still there. I just had to get out, needed fresh air.” He half-truths. Lance nods sympathetically, gesturing away from the direction of the shop. Keith’s stomach lurches as they fall into step beside each other.

  They walked around aimlessly, silently, neither one of them wanting to disrupt the moment. Keith speaks up as they pass the fountain, heading north.

  “Sorry if you wanted something,” he begins, offering Lance his cup. “Shiro always gets me a medium, but I can’t even finish the small one,”

  Lance snorts in amusement, taking the cup with a smile. “Hey! I’ll remind you that Carvel cups are fucking huge, thank you very much,” Keith points out, accusing Lance of making fun of him.

  Lance only shrugs, stuffing a spoonful of melted ice cream into his mouth. It drips down the corner of his lips, but Keith doesn’t comment on it. He instead wipes his thumb across it, and, surprisingly, Lance doesn’t pull back.

  They keep walking for a few minutes, coming to a stop when Lance gets distracted by a store window. It was an antique shop, mostly filled to the brim with old and new jewelry.

  Lance beams when Keith opens the door for him, stepping in eagerly. Keith follows closely behind him, looking around the shop. There are rows of shelves with knickknacks and display cases with rings, necklaces, and rings.

  They walk around, messing with the shelves and items on them. They don’t do anything to disturb the cashier up front, though.

  After leaving Lance to skim through the books, Keith heads back to where he is, at a display case, hands playing with a pair of gauges.

  “Your ears are pierced?” Keith asks, eyes glancing at his earlobes. Lance looks at him, now aware of his presence. He nods. “Oh, cool. Mine are too. But they get annoying sometimes,” Keith says. Lance nods in agreement, still messing with the back of one the black gauges.

  A pair of blue ones catch Keith’s eye. He grabs at them, replacing the ones in Lance’s hands with them. “Blue would look nice on you, just saying.” Keith admits, trying to not blush.

  Lance smiles gratefully and sheepishly grabs a red pair, placing them into Keith’s hands. Keith smiles back.

  Lance turns and heads towards the cashier, expecting Keith to follow. But Keith lingers at the display case, picking up a blue ring. It was metallic, with silver lining the edges and the inside.

  Keith slid it onto his left middle finger, admiring the color. As he slides it off, his fingers slip, and he uncovers a beautiful revelation. It was a spin ring.

  He bites back a smile as he walks towards the cashier, paying for the gauges and ring with the money he had hurriedly stuffed into his front pocket earlier. He politely declines the plastic bag and takes the loose jewelry into his hands, walking outside.

  Lance is leaning against the window, messing with the gauges he had put in. “Sorry, but I found something,” Keith says, quickly putting on his own gauges before revealing the ring in his hand.

  “Now, it’s no made-with-love-Nadia-bracelet, but I think it’s cool. It’s a spin ring. Here,” He takes Lance’s right hand and slips it onto his middle finger. “Perfect fit,” Keith grins.

  Lance blinks at his hand and blushes brighter than he ever thought he could. He wants to say something, anything . He wants to scream in disbelief because Oh my god, he remembered my niece’s name.

   Lance could only grin back, fingers spinning the blue band. With no other way to express his appreciation for Keith’s thoughtfulness, Lance lurches over and presses a sloppy kiss on Keith’s temple.

  They both blush.

Chapter Text

  Lance woke up early monday morning, granted by his niece and nephew, Nadia and Sylvio.

  They had jumped onto his bed and began to bounce on his stomach, emitting a disoriented ‘oof’ sound from Lance.

  “Tío Lean! We’re staying with mamá today!” Nadia yells into his ear, giggling madly. Lance tries to recorpriate the excitement, but can only groan in response. He sits up, gently pushing his smallest family members off his ribcage.

  “Sí! No school for us today! Es un teacher day!” Sylvio exclaims enthusiastically. Lance wipes at his eyes and smiles groggily, he points at his desk. Nadia beams, crawling over Lance’s body to run over towards it.

  She picks at his cups, grabbing a red dry erase marker. She looks through the drawers at its sides and pulls out a small board. She skips back to the bed and hastily pushes them into Lance’s hands.

  Neither Nadia or Sylvio are mature enough to understand Lance’s…predicament. They were just kids after all. But Lance felt guilty, who are they to suffer his ‘silent treatment?’

  So he started to write to them instead, insisting it was to help them get better at both spanish and english. Lance’s family never commented on it, they played along.

  Nadia and Sylvio thought it was a game of sorts.

   De verdad? He writes, showing Sylvio the board. Sylvio was mostly fluent in english, needing a bit of help with spanish. Nadia was the opposite.

  “De…ver…dad?” He pronounces slowly, squinting at the words. “Oo! I know! Yo se!” Nadia grins. Lance presses a finger against his lips and Nadia giggles.

  “Oh! For…verdad?…Real! For real?!” Sylvio asks. Lance nods and Sylvio grins. “Si! And Papi said to wake you up. Breakfast is ready,”

  Lance nods and Nadia grabs his right hand. “Y tú bracelet? Donde está?” She asks. Before Lance could scribble down an answer, she asks two more questions.

  “Y éste? De donde es? It’s pretty,” She twists at his middle finger. His ring spins. “Y estos! Tambien! Very pretty,” She hums, her fingers reaching up to play with the matte finish of the gauges he had forgotten to take off.

  Lance finds himself blushing as he writes down an answer. “They are…gifts? Son gifts?” Nadia reads. She huffs. “Son regalos? From who?”

  “Tío! Have you a girlfriend?” Sylvio butts in, grabbing Lance’s hand. Lance shakes his head furiously.

  Nadia makes an ‘aha’ sound and takes Lance’s hand back from Sylvio’s, admiring the metallic spin ring. “Ah! Pues novio?! Yeah?! Is it?!” She asks.

  Lance hesitates for a second too long and witnesses Nadia jump out of his bed and scream, “Mamá! Papi! Mami! Papá! Tío Leandro tiene novio!”

  Lance sputters as Nadia runs out of his room, repeating the same sentence over and over. Sylvio laughs at Lance’s expression and follows Nadia, yelling the same thing, only in english.

 Lance groans in embarrassment and is tempted to just go back to sleep. He huffs, knowing that wasn’t an option.

  He gets dressed slowly, not yet wanting to face the eventual questions that will get thrown at him by the rest of his family. If Nadia and Sylvio were here, then so was his older brother Luis and his wife Lisa.

  Lance grumbles as he shuffles to the bathroom, closing the door with his hip. He rummages through the shelves for his meds, knowing that he’ll have two more people breathing down his neck about it today.

  He swallows them dry and puts the bottles back, turning on the sink faucet. He splashes his face with water, trying to wake himself up. It sort of works, he doesn’t feel as sleepy anymore, though his eyes are still droopy and they still sting.

  He brushes his teeth quickly, gagging at the taste. Not a huge fan of peppermint.

  He goes back into his room, retrieving his bag and whiteboard, and heads towards the kitchen, were his family is sprawled out around the dinner table.

  There’s eggs (scrambled, over easy, over hard, etc.), beans, bacon, cooked ham, bagels, toast, and coffee mugs scattering the table. He’s greeted by his brother and his wife yelling out a “Hey!”

  Lance waves shyly and Luis rises from his seat, engulfing Lance in his arms. “What’s up dude? How are you, man?” He asks, smiling wide. Lance shrugs, smiling back. Lisa comes up and hugs him as well. “Always a pleasure, Lance.” She says.

  Lance nods and hugs back. “Come mijo, Luis te va llevar a la escuela hoy. Pastillas?” His mom says, standing from her seat. Lance nods again, and sits in his seat, in between Nadia and Sylvio (who are occupying Veronica and Rachel’s seats at the moment). He places his board on his lap.

  He gets handed a plastic plate from his mom with a bit of everything on it. Lance faintly wonders if he can even finish it all.

  “Ma, y Verónica y Rachel? Dónde están?” Luis asks his mother. She clears her throat, shaking her head. “Verónica está dormida, déjala. Está estresada por sus clases. Rachel está en la casa de una amiga,” She explains.

  Luis nods and turns to Lance, who is trying very hard to finish his second piece of toast with his over easy eggs. Luis smirks.

  “So…When do we get to meet this boyfriend of yours, Lean?” He asks innocently, smearing a bagel with cream cheese. Lance chokes on his toast.

  “Tienes novio, Lean?” His father asks, eyebrows raised. Lance coughs, shaking his head manically. “That’s not what Nadi said.” Luis points out, expression still smug.

  Lance turns and squints at Nadia. Look what you’ve done.

  “Tienes? De verdad, Nadi? Te lo digo?” His mom asks her. Nadi looks Lance in the eye as she nods.

  Oh that little–

  “Si! Mira esto!” She yells, leaning over the table to grab Lance’s right hand. She lifts it up and exposes the blue ring for all to see. Lance feels his cheeks grow warm.

  “Wow, que bonito, de donde es?” His mom asks. Lance smiles tightly. Sylvio decides it his turn to embarrass his uncle.

  “And these too! Son regalos!” He says, pointing at Lance’s gauges. “From his boyfriend!”

  Lance wants to crawl into a hole and die. “Si?” His mom asks spectactly, raising an eyebrow. “Si!” Both Nadia and Sylvio yell.

   God, if you really love me, you’d strike me dead.

  “Es verdad, Lean?” His mom asks, an unreadable expression adorning her features. “Son regalos?”

  Lance nods.

  “De tú novio?”

  Lance shakes his head.

  “De un amigo?” She tries. Lance nods, huffing in relief. His mom hums. “Solo son amigos, niños.” She says towards the younger McClains. “Los amigos se dan regalos,”

  Luis snorts. “Sounds fake, but okay.” He says. Lance throws him a small glare. Luis bats his eyelashes innocently and bites into his bagel.

  “Lance, I can drive you to school if you’d like, i’m just about finished with breakfast.” Lisa speaks up, biting into her sandwich.

   Luis looks betrayed (Lisa must’ve kicked his foot) as Lance nods at her, standing from his seat and giving the whiteboard to Nadia.

  He leans down and pecks her forehead, doing the same to Sylvio. His mom murmurs a quick “Love you” as he gives her small squeeze. His dad pats at his shoulder and tells him to call if he needs anything. Lance is certain he wouldn’t.

  “C’mon,” Lisa says, keys dangling from her fingers. “Don’t wanna be late.”

  Lance nods and follows her outside.

;

  Keith had been feeling odd all morning. He wasn’t sure why. Something was just…off.

  But the day had started like it usually did, with Keith’s alarm blaring nonstop and Shiro cursing at him.

  “Just turn it off!” Shiro yells from his room. Keith groans into his pillow. He sits up groggily, reaching over his night stand to grab his phone. He presses stop and the alarm shuts off, relieving both Keith and Shiro of the annoying sound.

  Keith flops back onto his stomach and nuzzles his face into the pillow, ignoring Shiro’s voice. “Keith, I said get the door!” His brother yells.

  Keith lets out a frustrated whine and gets up from bed, stomping down the hall. He yanks open the front door and sends a deadly glare towards Adam, who was standing behind it.

  “Good morning,” Adam smiles, waiting for Keith to move over. But Keith doesn’t step aside at first. He looks down at Adam’s hands, which gripped at brown paper bags. Keith looks back at Adam and reaches over, taking the bags from his grasp.

  “Thanks,” Keith says, looking Adam in the eye. “Bye.” Keith slams the door in his face, walking to the living room. He flops onto the couch and begins to rummage through the bags as Shiro walks in, asking who was at the door.

  “Adam, he brought food.” Keith murmurs, biting into a breakfast burrito. Shiro lights up. “Cool! Where is he?” He asks, looking around, confused.

  “Outside. Slammed the door in his face.” Keith states, still eating. Shiro looks at him with a horrified expression. “You slam–you–y-you slammed the door in his face?!” He exclaims, running over to open the front door.

  Adam is standing there, hands in his pockets, amused. He raises his eyebrows. “Hi there, can I come this time?” He asks. Shiro sighs and steps aside, shoulders slumping.

  “He’s sorry,” Shiro adds, closing the door. Adam hums and Keith scoffs. “No ‘m not. Fucking made me get out of bed. How dare you?”

  Adam snorts. “I brought you food,” He points out. Keith shrugs. “True, but waking me up is unacceptable. You must beg for forgiveness.” He says, standing from the couch. He stuffs his wrapper into one of the bags and heads back to his bedroom.

  He hears Adam giggle behind him and he hides a smirk as he slams his door closed. He trudges towards his dresser and changes into ripped jeans and a plain black shirt. He slips on his docs and runs his hand through his hair, trying to get rid of the small knots.

  He goes into his bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth, drawing a bit of blood from his gums in the process.

  He rinses out his mouth and accidentally spills a small amount of water onto his shirt. Keith blows a raspberry, going back into his room.

  He grabs his bag and is about to leave, but ends up throwing on a red plaid shirt at the last second. He slips on some fingerless gloves on as well.

  He follows both Shiro and Adam outside and the three high schoolers crawl into the car. Keith huffs. Shiro glances back at Keith. “You okay?” He asks.

  Keith shrugs. “I feel…off. Doesn’t today feel weird to you?” He questions. Shiro shrugs back. “Not really. There’s nothing to worry about, promise.” He assures.

  Keith can’t help but feel apprehensive for the rest of the day.

;

  Lance’s okayish mood was only amplified when Keith showed up to lunch and sat at his side. Being an odd day, Lance hadn’t seen him since their first class, when Keith walked in with messy hair and a dark spot on his shirt.

  Lance had pointed at the spot and Keith had shrugged, smirking, saying how he must’ve missed his mouth. Lance had laughed.

  “What up, homos?” Keith greeted, sitting down on the bench and putting his bag on the table. “I’ve taught you well,” Pidge says. Keith rolls his eyes.

  Lance smiles. Keith looks over at him. “Granola, boy.” He says, giving Lance a granola bar. Lance snorts, faintly wondering about what someone else would think if they had heard that sentence without context.

  He takes the bar (like he always does) and unwraps it, taking small bites. His mom’s breakfast really filled him up for the day.

  Someone then groans loudly and Lance looks up, confused. Allura had finally shown up to the table, taking her usual seat next to Romelle. She looked annoyed and aggravated.

  “Fuck…my life,” She whines, leaning onto her girlfriend for support. Lance hears Pidge mutter “Mood,” and chuckles.

  “What’s wrong?” Romelle asks, eyebrows furrowed. “My father…He’s starting to come onto me about college and on top of that, the family business. I mean, I know he wants me to take over one day, but it's just too soon! I’m only seventeen Not even legal yet!” She rants, throwing her hands up in frustration.

  Lance spins his ring, staring at Allura, seemingly searching. Keith frowns, wishing he knew what was going on in Lance’s head at the moment.

  His breath hitches when Lance does something unexpected.

  “You know what else isn’t legal? Your good looks,” He croaks, an uncertain smile on his lips. His voice cracks at else and at looks. He sounds hoarse. He’s making finger guns. Keith could cry.

  Allura only groans in response. “Jesus christ, Lance. Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

  Lance goes rigid. He’s suddenly aware of the conversation going on two tables over, of Keith frozen beside him, of his voice.

  His fucking voice. The voice he hasn’t heard in months. The voice he doesn’t recognize as his anymore.

  Lance’s eyes burn as he stands, slamming his hands onto the table. “Yes! I do! But you’re s-so fucking deaf, you don’t even notice!” He yells, his voice scratchy and wobbly.

  The table goes quiet. Keith lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding.

  “Some fucking friend you are!” He shouts at her, tears starting to fall. Allura stands, shouting back. “What the fuck are you on about?!”

  Lance is about to shout again, but Shiro stands from his seat. “Guys, please. You need to–”

  “Shut up Shiro! Like you’re any better!” Lance sneers. “Let me fucking speak for once!”

   Shiro blinks. He slowly sits back down, seeing as Lance was upset. Keith silently cheers Lance on.

   Put them in their fucking place.

  “Lance, what the fuck?” Pidge pipes up, standing from her seat. She sends him a glare. Lance returns it.

  “What the fuck? What the fuck?! I-I haven’t–I haven’t–” Lance hiccups, his angry exterior crumbling down. Hot tears are rolling down his cheeks. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

  “I-I haven’t spoken in months…Y-You guys…That’s the f-first thing I said in months. Are you all that fucking dense?” He sobs.

  Pidge looks angry. Allura’s expression is unreadable.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?! Is this some kind of joke?!” Pidge shouts. Lance could laugh.

  “Why would this be a f-ucking joke?! Have you heard me s-speak lately?! When’s the last time you’ve heard me say something?! Tell a joke?! Flirt with a fucking stranger?!” He screams, more and more tears falling. They can’t seem to stop.

  Pidge only glares at him. “You’re lying.” She growls. “I’m not! I’m not–I-I’m not lying! I’m-I’m not–I’m–” Lance begins to gasp for air as Pidge keeps shouting at him. His vision blurs as his chest heaves. His ears block out any sound beside his own thoughts. He cries harder.

  I can’t–I can’t breathe. I can-can’t–

   Keith stands up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yells. Pidge looks at him, terrified. He glares at her and Allura. “He’s having a fucking panic attack, you fucking idiots! He’s right about you being a pitiful excuse of a friend!” He sneers.

  This gets attention from the tables around them. “Keep staring and I’ll smash your faces into the pavement!” He growls. Everyone turns back.

  “Lance, deep breaths, c’mon,” Keith says. Lance sobs. Keith’s nose flares. “Keys,” he says, holding a hand out. Shiro looks up at him. “…What?”

  Keith huffs. “Keys! Give me your fucking keys!” He repeats. Shiro pulls them out of his pocket and hastily puts them into Keith’s hand. Keith puts them into his own pocket.

  Before Lance could get worse, Keith puts on his bag and tries to set his hands onto Lance’s shoulders. Lance flinches harshly, still crying, still hyperventilating.

  “I’m sorry, but you need to breathe normally okay? C’mon, let’s walk.” Keith says, pushing Lance along. He steers him over to the backside of D building, where it was lone and quiet.

  Lance immediately slides onto the ground, Keith following down. His hands pull at his hair as he cries.

  “Lance, listen to me. You need to relax, okay? You’re safe, you’re with me. It’s just me, Lance,” Keith assures. Lance stops sobbing, tears streaming down silently.

  Keith huffs. “Yes, that’s good, Lance. You’re doing so well. You can hear me, right?”

  Lance pulls at his hair.

  “Lance, I need you to use your words. Please, Lance. Can you hear me?” He asks.

  Lance nods slowly. “…Yes…” he whispers.

  “Okay, good. I need you to look at me. Lance, look at me,” Keith continues. Lance’s eyes fix onto his face. “Match me, okay? Breathe in…and out. In…out. In…out.”

  After a few minutes, Lance is able to take slow deep breaths. Keith sighs in relief. “Yes, that’s good! You’re doing so well, Lance. Now, I’m going to put my hands on your shoulders. Okay? Hear that? Shoulders,”

  Lance doesn’t answer. Keith places his hands on his shoulders and looks him in the eye.  “Lance,” he murmurs, rubbing his shoulders. “I need you to more your hands okay? You’re hurting yourself,”

  Lance nods, shakily moving his hands away from his head. He places them flat on the pavement. “Good. Neck,” Keith says, his hands sliding up to hold the sides of Lance’s neck. Lance flinches.

  “Just me,” Keith assures. “Face,”

  His hands slide up once more, cupping Lance’s tear streaked cheeks. Lance finally relaxes, still breathing slowly.

  “Your name is Lance, you’re seventeen. You’re at Altean Academy, behind the commissary. You had a panic attack. I brought you here. My name is Keith, i’m your friend.” Keith says slowly, letting Lance’s post-breakdown brain absorb the information.

  Lance nods in confirmation.

  “Okay, good…” Keith sighs, removing his hands. “I’m going to take you home, okay?”

  Lance nods again.

  “Can I have your phone please?” Keith asks gently. Lance reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his phone. His hands shake.

  “Password?” Keith murmurs. Lance presses his thumb on the home button instead. Keith opens up his contacts, quickly scrolling through to find his mother’s number, ignoring Lance’s last phone call labeled 3/28/18.

   He finds the number under Mamá and is quick to call. Lance’s mother answers just as fast, her soft voice muttering in disbelief. “Lean?” She asks.

  Keith furrows his eyebrows. “Hello? Is this Lance’s mother?” He asks.

   “Yes!” She cries. “Oh, is something wrong? Dios, please tell me there’s nothing wrong.”

  Keith huffs before answering. “No, not exactly. This is Lance’s friend, Keith. Lance had a panic attack and I called to tell you I was planning on taking him home, if that’s okay.” He explains, eyes drifting towards Lance’s stoic expression. Keith bites his lip.

  "Por supuesto! That’s more than okay! Thank you so much!” She assures, close to tears. Keith hides a smile. “We’ll be there in a few, bye.” He says, hanging up.

  “C’mon, Lance.” Keith hums, helping him up. He lets Lance lean onto him for support. Lance blinks. Keith smiles wearily. “We’re good, okay? I didn’t want to go to fifth block anyway.”

  Lance would laugh if he didn’t feel so…drained. So…empty.

  Both of them trudge towards the student parking lot, Keith now noticing the lone campus. The bell for class must’ve rang.

  They stop at the lunch table to get Lance’s bag and keep walking, slowly falling into step with each other. Lance’s eyes are bloodshot and the tears on his cheeks are dry. He looks awful.

  They crawl into Shiro’s car, Keith in the driver’s seat with Lance slumped against the seat beside him. Lance looks at him quizzically, eyebrows furrowed.

  Keith jams the keys into the ignition, starting it up. “I can drive, Lance. I just haven’t bothered to get a permit, or a license.” He explains, trying to soothe over Lance’s worried look.

  Lance raises an eyebrow. Keith shrugs, putting on his seatbelt and making sure Lance does the same. He pulls out of the parking spot, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. He looks at Lance, who is starring straightforward. Keith sighs.

  “Let’s get you home.”

Chapter Text

   Driving Lance home was the easy part, he was cooperative enough, pointing at where to turn at each light, murmuring quietly. He hasn’t spoken since his outburst at lunch.

  “Lance, please.” Keith pushes, hand open, palm stretched to the sky. Lance huffed, crossing his arms. Lance refused to give Keith his keys to open the front door. Keith rose a fist.

  “Then I’ll knock,” He said, knuckles brushing against the door. Lance huffed again. “Lance, dude, it’s just your family. They’ll understand.” Keith says, knitting his eyebrows together. Was Lance afraid to face them?

  “If they don’t, i’ll take you far away from here, okay? But you need to try,” Keith adds sincerely. If Lance didn’t want to be here, he would take him away. Far away from everyone.

  Lance gave a sigh of defeat and flipped open his bag, digging through it. His lanyard lied at the bottom, under his binders and notebooks. He pulled it out, keys and a few key chains dangling from it. Keith took the black lanyard, raising his eyebrows. Lance threw him a small glare as Keith smirked in satisfaction, unlocking the door.

  “Who’s there?” Someone asks. Keith and Lance step into the house and a short-haired girl (very similar to Lance) watched them curiously.

  “Lance? What are you doing here? Altean doesn’t let out for another three hours.” She states, adjusting the glasses on her face. She faintly reminds Keith of Adam for a second or two.

  Lance only stands there, crossing his arms defensively, almost as if he was hugging himself. When Lance doesn’t answer, Keith steps up. “He had an anxiety attack, a bad one.”

  The girls eyes widened. “Oh shit, must’ve been if you’re here early. Mom’s in the kitchen, you want chocolate?” She asks, nodding down the hall. Lance shrugs, following her as she walks towards the kitchen. Keith trots along behind them.

  “Mamá, es Leandro.” The sister says, stepping away to reveal both Lance and Keith. Lance’s mom immediately stops what she’s doing, and scuttles toward Lance, a worried look painting her features.

  “Lean! Finally! Mi pecrupastes! Estas bien, mijo?” She asks frantically, eyes searching at his blank expression. Keith sees her lean in for a hug, but then instantly scoot back once she notices Lance’s defensive stance.

  Lance shrugs half heartedly, eyes averting. Keith sags his shoulders.

  “Te hago chocolate? Si? Te lo traigo al quarto, está bien?” His mom asks, searching once more. Lance nods. His mom smiles wearily, turning around and looking through the cabinets for (what Keith assumes) a pot.

  Lance turns to Keith, an uneasy look on his face. Keith smiles and shakes his head. “It’s cool man, you can be alone if you’d like,” He assures, waving Lance along. Lance sends him a look that Keith can only interpret as greatful (and maybe, just maybe, fond).

   Once Lance is out of sight, his mother pounces, pulling Keith into a tight hug. Keith jumps in surprise and hovers his hands over her back awkwardly. Lance’s sister is watching them, an amused look on her face.

  “Thank you for looking out for Lean, Keith. It means a lot,” She says, smiling softly. Keith half smiles back, gently pulling back from her grip.

  “It’s what friends do. I care a lot, about Lance that is.” Keith rambles, blushing unconsciously. “He’s been there for me, he deserves someone to be there for him, y’know? Anxiety attacks suck,”

  His mom’s expression turns into something Keith can’t quite put a finger on, all he can understand is that it's…not a bad look.

  “Si, I agree. Friends are supposed to be there for one another,” She says. Her eyebrows furrow. “You can call me Rosa, by the way. How come we’ve never met before?”

  Keith bounces on the balls of his feet. “I met Lance about…three or four weeks ago? I just transferred to Altean Academy this year. You might know my brother though, Shiro?” He asks.

  Keith feels weird talking about Shiro, especially after what had happened. Is Keith mad at him? Maybe…He doesn’t know.

  “Ah yes! The Champion!” Lance’s sister pipes up, smirking. “You’re his brother?”

  Keith furrows his eyebrows. “The Champion?” He asks, confused.

  Lance’s mother nods in agreement. “Yes, the Champion! Lean used to hold game nights with his friends. Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, Matt. And three others too. Shiro and Matt and Lean would always tie, but eventually, Shiro would win,” She explains. The sister nods along.

  “Yeah! No matter what they were playing. Clue, twister, charades. We also have a permanent ban against monopoly and scrabble because Lance and Pidge would disagree on who really won. It didn’t matter though, Shiro is the Champion of board games.” She says, making hand movements to prove her point.

  Keith’s posture shifts. Listening to these strangers talk about his brother in such a familiar manner rubbed him the wrong way, it was like these people knew him better than Keith did.

  But maybe they did, considering the fact that he didn’t even know Shiro liked board games. He bet Adam knew.

  “I’m Veronica by the way,” The sister then says, smiling. Keith nods, barely registering her name.

   “Lean used to hold game nights with his friends.”

  Used to. Used to. Used to.

   When was the last time Lance invited them over?

  “Wonder why they stopped…” Rosa murmurs distantly, walking off to get the hot chocolate started. Keith could cry. They didn’t know. They knew nothing.

   Fuck.

  “Are you going back to the school, Keith?” Rosa asks as Veronica hands her a jar of cinnamon sticks. Keith shifts his weight to one side, then the other. He can hear about two pairs of feet run all around the house from outside the kitchen.

   Does Rosa have younger kids as well?

  “Um, well,” Keith pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I don’t think I will. It’ll be halfway through fifth block, anyway.”

  Rosa nods. “Will you be staying for dinner then?” She asks, stirring the chocolate with a plastic ladle. Keith takes a hesitant step forward as Veronica left the kitchen, shouting at someone from down the hall.

  “I’d like to, if you don’t mind.” He says. There was no way he was going home. Shiro would be there.

  “Of course! You’re welcome to anytime! It's been a while since Lean had a friend over anyway. It’s good for him,” She states, now scooping up the hot chocolate into a mug. She sets it on the counter and goes over to the fridge, grabbing a can of whipped cream.

   It’s been a while since Lean had a friend over…   

   Fuck.

  A mountain of whipped cream gets dumped into the mug and it is gently placed into Keith’s hands.

  “Bring this to Lean, will you?” Rosa asks kindly. Keith nodded firmly. “First door on the right,” She adds, turning around to get back to whatever she was doing before Keith and Lance arrived. What it was? Keith didn't know.

   You don’t know a lot of things, do you?

  Keith scowls at himself before leaving the kitchen in search of Lance’s bedroom. He finds it without much hassle, the door was swung wide open and Keith could recognize the people in the photos attached to it.

   “Knock knock,” Keith says, walking in. Lance is on the queen sized bed over in the corner, a comforter over his lap and a small girl sitting in between his covered legs.

   Lance’s left hand was being held by the girls smaller hands, nails being painted a (disgusting) green color. There was a small boy scribbling on a whiteboard at the foot of the bed.

  “Hello!” The girl beamed, waving from her spot. Keith glanced at Lance, who was smiling sheepishly. “Hi,” Keith finally says, looking back at the girl. She grins wide, hurriedly twisting the nail polish closed. Once she does so, she leaps out of Lance’s bed, running towards Keith.

   “I’m Nadia! Y tú? What’s your name? Are you tío’s friend?” She babbles, tugging on Keith’s arm. Keith carefully steps towards Lance’s desk, making sure not to spill the not-so-cold chocolate and places the mug down, away from any stray papers.

  After he does, Nadia wastes no time and begins to tug on Keith again, with more force this time. Keith trips as she pulls him along, falling onto Lance’s bed. “Perfect! You can sit with Lean!” Nadia grins.

  Lance squeals as Keith practically falls into his lap. Keith goes red as he apologises profusely, scooting off.

  He ends up sitting with his back to the wall, horizontally, with his legs over Lance’s. Lance had arranged himself to sit vertically with his back against the headboard, Nadia climbing over to sit in between the two, in the corner.

  “I’m Sylvio! What’s your name?” The boy with the whiteboard asks. Keith smiles awkwardly. “Keith,” he says shyly.

  “Cool!” Sylvio responds quickly, leaving the room just as fast, shouting something about how he wanted hot chocolate as well.

  “That’s a pretty name. You’re a pretty person, sabias? Tío, tú sabías?” Nadia asks, going back to painting Lance’s nails, the right hand this time.

  Lance feels his body flush in embarrassment as he nods at her. Keith feels his face heat up.

  “Tío is very pretty too. Si?” She asks Keith this time, finishing up the first coat of nail polish. Keith can only nod, not trusting his voice to say something not embarrassing.

  “Hey, can I paint yours too? Porfa?” Nadia then asks, looking hopeful. Keith melts at her puppy dog eyes and squeaks out a faint “Okay,” before Nadia runs off, searching for more nail polish from god knows where.

  “So…that’s Nadia?” Keith ends up asking after an awkward moment of silence. Lance nods slightly, muttering a “yeah.” Keith can barely hear it, but he guesses it’s still, technically, progress.

  Nadia runs back into the room, hopping onto the bed and crawling over both their legs. Lance snickers as Nadia starts to babble once more, occupying herself by painting Keith’s nails a light shade of pink.

  “Creo que pink se mira bonito en tus manos! Right, tío?” She asks enthusiastically, moving on to Keith’s other hand. She’s fucking fast.

  Lance hums, nodding along. She beams and quickly finishes up. She sits quietly, staring up at Keith in suspense, wanting to know what he thought about his simple manicure.

  Keith let out an amused chuckle, blowing at his wet nails. “It looks amazing, Nadia.” He says, pronouncing Nadia with a seemingly latino accent. Lance is taken aback for a second, his eyes wide. Did Keith know spanish?

  “Yes!” Nadia cheered, fist pumping into the air. “Bueno! Ora que?” She asks, eyebrows furrowing. She sits in her corner and thinks, eyes glaring at the open door in concentration.

  She gives up after a few minutes, huffing in defeat. It reminded Keith of Lance when he refused to go inside.

  “Ah mira! How pretty!” Nadia gasps, hands reaching over towards Keith’s ear. Her fingers fiddle with one of the gauges as Keith mutters a “thanks.”

  Nadia then stops, hands retaliating. She looks at Lance, then Keith. Back at Lance, back to Keith. Both boys are now glancing at each other nervously, wondering if Nadia’s sudden silence was a bad thing.

  “Matchan!” Nadia shrieks with delight. She throws her body onto Keith’s, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Keith makes a choking sound before the back of his head hits the wall. Nadia doesn’t seem to notice, and Keith doesn’t expect her to.

  “No lo creo! You are a lot more pretty en persona!” She says, alternating between english and spanish when she can’t remember certain words.

  Lance chokes on his spit as Keith stares at her, confused. “What?”

  Nadia pulls back and grins. “Eres Lean’s novio no?” Keith frowns. “Novio?” He repeats, mimicking her pronunciation. Nadia nods her head furiously, jumping out of bed.

   “I knew it! I’m telling Mamá y Nónica!” She says, running out of the room, giggling and screaming a jumble of spanish words Keith can’t make out.

  “What was that?” Keith asked, seemingly out of breath. He turns to Lance, whose face is now a darker shade than it was earlier.

  Instead of answering, Lance grabs a pillow from beside him and shoves it into his face, screaming as loud as he can. Keith snickers.

 “She thinks we’re dating,” Lance says lowly, removing his pillow. Keith eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His face warms up a good amount.

  “Um, do you still want hot chocolate? It’s probably cold now, though.” Keith says, scrambling off the bed. He grabs Lance’s mug from the desk, the whipped cream in it now lying flatly on the surface of the chocolate. He places it into Lance’s awaiting palms, and Lance hides a smile.

  Usually he hates being treated with solicitude, but since it was Keith providing him with his utmost attention, he didn’t mind at all. It made him feel important. Safe.

  He sips at the hot chocolate (which had downgraded to warm chocolate), his fingers curling around the mug securely.

  Keith sits on the edge of Lance’s bed, now hesitant when regarding the fact he didn’t know if Lance was comfortable with it or not.

  Lance sent him a small smile and they shared a calm and quiet moment for the first time that day. But then they were interrupted too soon.

  Both Sylvio and Nadia had scurried back in, proudly wearing whipped cream mustaches. “Mamá said dinner's almost ready,” Sylvio  informed them, eyebrows raising.

  “Your novio is really pretty, Tío.” He says, walking out with Nadia trailing behind him. Keith ignored the redness of his cheeks and turned to Lance. “Should we tell them?” He asked vaguely.

  Lance seemed to get it, for he shrugged lamely, unbothered. He stood from the bed, nodding towards the door. Keith huffed in frustration and followed him back into the kitchen.

   Did his entire family think they were dating?

  “Ya mero viene tu Papá y Luis. Ayuda a Verónica poner la mesa.” Rosa states. Lance nods and goes to help his sister. He picks up plates and cups, arranging them on the dinner table with Veronica at his side.

  Keith stands at the counter, shifting awkwardly. What exactly was he supposed to do? He’s never stayed at a friends house before. Is this what it's like?

  “Rosa,” He speaks up, rolling the ‘r’ (like you’re supposed to). “Do you need any help?”

  Rosa looks over at him, surprised. “Do I ever!” She exclaims, delighted. She rummages through the cabinets and pulls out a cutting board from a bottom one. She grabs a sharp knife from one of the drawers and carefully hands Keith both of the items.

  “I just need you to cut up some lettuce and tomatoes. Dice the tomatoes, thank you.” She says, walking towards the fridge. She grabs a few tomatoes and a head of lettuce, passing them to Keith.

  He takes them and situates his station at the counter, trying to take up as little room as possible. He quickly washes his hands as Rosa hands him two bowls.

   “Glass one for the lettuce and the other for the tomatoes,” She says, going back to the stove. Keith nods and starts cutting up the head of lettuce.

  “What exactly are you making?” He asks, as Rosa jumps back from a splash of oil. “Sopes,” She says, humming as she places something into the frying pan. Keith couldn’t make it out from where he was standing.

  “What’s that?” He asks curiously, sliding the lettuce off the cutting board and into the glass bowl with the knife in his hand.

  Rosa turns towards him, eyebrows raised and eyes twinkling. “You’ve never had sopes?” She questions.

  Keith shakes his head, amused. “Can’t say that I have,” he admits, shrugging. Rosa smiles wide, placing more food into the pan.

  “Oh! You’re brother loves these! They’re homemade tortillas basically. But they’re much thicker and when they’re still warm, you push up the sides to make it look like this,” She holds out one for Keith to see. She places it into the oil, removing the last one with a pair of tongs.

  “Then, you fry them till they’re nice and brown. After that, you just fit as much stuff on top of it as you can. They usually have beans, some type of meat, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and crema. Or sour cream. Salsa or guac if you’d like. So like a burrito or taco, but all it’s ingredients are out in the open.” Rosa explains, continuously frying enough sopes to fill up the pot near the stove.

  How many people were eating tonight? Keith swears they can feed the whole neighborhood with all that food.

  “That sounds really good,” Keith says, moving on to dice the tomatoes. Veronica then pops out of nowhere, startling Keith for a second.

  “Hell yeah it is. But I think flautas de papa are better,” She emphasizes, shooting her mom a look. Keith watches in amusement as Rosa rolls her eyes.

  “You know Papá is a pure carnivore,” Rosa jokes. Veronica groans and grabs a water bottle from the fridge. Keith snorts.

  “Pure carnivore?” He asks, still amused by the familial interaction.

  Veronica nods, leaning on the counter.

  “Our dad literally won’t eat unless there’s meat to it. Chicken, steak, fish. Whatever. Oh, there’s some rice, beans, and tortillas? Why don’t you grill some chicken? Oh! We only have eggs? How about some ham with that, mi amor?” She mimics her father, her hands waving around.

  Lance walks into the kitchen and Veronica takes this chance to gesture at him. “Right, Lance?!” She asks, eyebrows raised.

  Lance looks off guard, eyes flicking back and forth between Veronica, Rosa, and Keith. Keith stops dicing and snickers into him palm.

  Lance squints at Veronica and slowly starts to nod. Veronica smirks in satisfaction and Rosa snorts, going back to frying.

  Lance shoots Keith a confused look and Keith can only shrug, smirking. Lance scoffs fakely and steps towards Keith’s makeshift station. “…You didn’t have to…” He squeaks, gesturing towards the cutting board.

  Keith blinks in surprise, looking over Lance’s shoulders. Neither Rosa or Veronica had heard him, busy with their own tasks. Hell, Keith barely heard him.

  “I don’t mind, it’s nice. Adam doesn’t let me or Shiro do anything when it comes to cooking. It’s a fire hazard.” Keith explains, continuing his dicing.

  Lance smiles and goes to open one of the cabinets, pulling out another cutting board. “I’ll help,” he whispers, grabbing a knife from the same drawer Rosa had.

  Keith steps aside, making room for Lance at the counter. They dice, and dice, and dice for about ten minutes, the kitchen growing warm due to Rosa’s cooking chicken on the stove.

  As the both of them finish dicing and washing their hands, someone is yelling from the front door, slamming it shut. “I’m home!” The feminine voice calls, its owner walking into the kitchen as Keith and Lance are heading out.

  “Oh hello, beautiful.” The girl grins, slightly bowing down, her long hair falling onto her shoulders. If Keith thought Veronica looked a lot like Lance, then this girl was Lance. Only female.

  “I’m Rachel, and you are?” She raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. Keith can see Lance blush in embarrassment out if the corner of his eye.

  “Very gay,” Keith answers bluntly. Lance goes another shade darker.

  Rachel instantly drops her act, sighing. “God dammit, Lance. Everytime,” She says, walking towards the fridge. She grabs a water bottle. “You’ve caught a hot one, Lean. Reel ‘m in.”

  Lance groans into his hands, face hot. He walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, Keith following behind, snickering (and blushing) into his hand.

  Nadia magically appears out of nowhere, grabbing onto the edges of their shirts. “Let’s play un juego!” She laughs, pulling them to the couch.

  They play hangman and charades on Lance’s whiteboard for a good chunk of time, Rachel, Veronica and Sylvio joining them half-way through.

  By the time Lance’s father comes home, the six of them are sprawled all around the living room, on the couches and on the floor.

  Keith finishes laughing at what Veronica just said, not even remembering what it was. He turns to Lance, who is red faced and flailing his arms at a pillow in attempts to stop laughing.

   His movements remind Keith of a seal and he throws his head back, cackling.

  Lance looks back at him still laughing so hard, it was silent. “You-You…look…so…oh my god, your face!” Keith heaves. His face hurts. “I can’t…fucking…breathe!”

  Veronica and Rachel giggle along. “I can’t fucking breath!” Rachel jokes. Keith starts to laugh even harder, beginning to snort.

  Lance’s face scrunches up in delight at the sound. “Oh my god! You’re a snorter!” Veronica cries.

  Keith shakes his head rapidly, trying to calm himself down. “Shut up!” He retaliates, wiping at his eyes. He had started crying.

  “What up family?!” Luis then shouts, entering the living room. Sylvio and Nadia jump up in an instant, running over to greet their father.

  “When…when did you get here?” Veronica asks, trying to regulate her breathing. She stands up from her spot on the floor, going over to her brother.

  “Like, five minutes ago. We’re gonna have dinner and then head home,” Luis explains as Keith, Lance, and Rachel finally calm down.

  “Good for you,” Rachel mocks, letting out one last laugh. Keith exhales out of his nose, grinning. Lance snickers lamely.

  “Another boyfriend, Rachel?” Luis smirks, looking at Keith. Rachel scoffs. “Not mine,” She says, pointing at Lance.

  Keith sees Lance lose all the color in his face as he looks up at his older brother. Luis grins wickedly. “Oh, this is the infamous present-giver boyfriend?” He asks.

  Lance glares at Luis (or Nadia, who was being carried in his arms. Keith isn’t sure), shaking his head. When he looks like he’s about to say something, Keith holds his breath. Lance ends up pursing his lips instead.

  “I think you have me confused with someone else,” Keith pipes up, standing from the floor. “I’m just Lance’s friend, Keith.”

  Nadia frowns. Luis raises an eyebrow. “So…you’re not the one who got my bro that ring?” He asks. Nadia whispers into his ear. Keith is sure Luis knows the answer to that question.

  “Well, yeah, I am.” Keith admits, shrugging. Luis hums in amusement. Nadia demands to be put down and her father obliges, setting her onto the wooden floor. He stares at Keith with an expression he can’t decipher.

   Why is this family so cryptic?

  “Papá’s home. Dinner’s ready,” Luis says, walking away, Nadia and Sylvio hot on his trail. Veronica follows as well.

  “Let’s go, gays.” Rachel states, waving both Lance and Keith over. Lance blushes and Keith scoffs.

  The three of them enter the kitchen, heading towards the dining table. Lance sits in his seat and Keith gets pushed into the seat beside him. “You can sit here.” Rosa says, smiling.

  Keith nods and suddenly, there is food being shoved into his face. “Mamá said you’ve never had them, so start with two.” Veronica gives him a plate with two prepared sopes with everything on it.

  “Thanks,” He half-smiles. Veronica nods, sitting in her seat. Lance gets a plate with four sopes, courtesy of his mother. “You need to eat,” Rosa says, giving him a look. Lance shrinks into his seat.

  Keith hides a smile.

  “Pa, this is Keith. Lean’s…friend.” Luis smirks. Nadia bounces in her seat. “Te dije que tenia novio!” She shouts, digging into her food.

  Lance’s father looks at them, confused. “Boyfriend?” He asks. Lance groans.

  Keith then shakes his head, seeing as Lance wasn’t going to respond. “She just thinks that,” he clarifies.

  Lance’s father raises an eyebrow. “Okay…You’re welcome here anytime, Keith. I heard what you did, thank you,” He nods at him. Keith shrugs, face heating up.

  “It’s fine really. I just did what anyone else would do,” He insists. Lance picks at the lettuce that had fallen off one of his sopes.

  “Actually–”

  Before he could add anything else, Rosa steps up, setting down a plate in front of her husband. “Ya dejalos, Miguel. You’re embarrassing them.” She teases.

  Miguel smiles in satisfaction. “Pero solo son amigos, no? They’re not dating, right?” He asks, looking back at Keith. Keith blinks, trying to register the question.

  “No,” He says. Rachel hums from her seat. “Sure,” she draws out.

  This is it. Keith is going to die of embarrassment. Cause of death? Excessive teasing from the family of the guy he likes.

  “Okay, okay. Para,” Rosa laughs, finally sitting in her own seat. “Come, antes que se enfríe,”

  The table laughs, branching off into small conversations. They then begin to pass around a bowl of salsa, starting from Luis’ side of the table. It makes its way to the other side, Veronica giving it to Lance. The brunet lights up, scooping a bunch of it all over his food.

  He hands it to Keith, who shakes his head. Lance laughs. “It’s not too spicy, I promise.” He smiles, nudging the bowl into Keith’s hands.

  Keith is sure Lance didn’t mean to go above a whisper, but he had. And everyone heard.

  Keith’s breath hitches as he witnesses the table go quiet for a few seconds, freezing just as Keith did. The moment was over as fast as it occurred, everyone engaging in small talk once more. Lance didn’t seem to notice, for he was still looking at Keith expectantly.

  Keith could see Rosa out of his peripheral vision, smiling wide with unshed tears in her eyes.

   Oh.

  “I like spicy food, though.” Keith says, scooping a bit of the salsa onto his own food. Lance rolls eyes, still smiling. They eat in a comfortable silence, only speaking up when Lance’s family reels them into the conversation.

  Keith finishes up his fourth sope (what? they were really good), smiling like an idiot. Lance’s family was just so…warm.

  They were kind and inviting, the atmosphere around them lively and comforting. He loved it.

  Lance finishes up his third sope, pushing the plate towards Rachel, who takes it without hesitation.

  Lance excuses himself with a quick glance to his mom. Rosa nods, waving him away. He leaves, heading towards his room.

  Keith stands, about to follow. Before he can, Rosa rises from her seat, throwing her arms over his shoulders. She squeezes him tight. Keith is as confused as he was the first time she pounced. He hears Rosa sniffle this time.

  “Thank you so much, Keith. I don’t know what you’re doing. Dios sabe. But please keep doing it. Leandro hasn’t been this happy in months. He hasn’t spoken in months.” She admits, her eyes glistening.

  Keith’s features soften. “Thank you Keith. For being there for him.” She adds. Keith could cry. Rosa already was.

  He looks over her shoulder, the whole table giving him grateful looks adorned with small smiles. Keith feels a tickle inside throat.

  Rosa pulls away, smiling lazily. “Goodnight Keith,” She says, waving him along. Keith smiles back wiping his eyes.

  “Tell Lean to take his meds, please.” Veronica speaks up. Keith blinks, furrowing his eyebrows.

  “Meds?” He questions. Veronica nods, adjusting her glasses. “Yeah, his antidepressants and adhd meds.”

  Keith blinks again. Oh.

  “Did you…not know?” Veronica squints at him suspiciously. Keith’s eyes widen. “Uh, no, it’s just…usually they’re not taken this late,” He stutters.

  Veronica nods in understanding. “Yeah, but they help him sleep too so…win-win.”

  Keith nods back, turning away and making a beeline towards Lance’s bedroom. He enters just as Lance finishes fixing a few blankets on the floor.

  “Uh, Veronica said you should take your meds before bed.” Keith informs him. Lance freezes for a second before nodding his head and leaving the room. Keith sits down onto the makeshift nest on the floor.

  Lance comes back quickly, giving Keith a brief smile. “So, you’re name is Leandro?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow. Lance nods, sitting down beside him. “Is Lance a nickname?”

  Lance nods again. “Cool. My name isn’t Keith,” He says. Lance grins, extremely confused. Keith shrugs.

   “All of my school documents and stuff are under Keith, but not on my birth certificate. I only started going by Keith when we settled here in America. I was born in Korea.”

  Lance nods. He sends Keith a look. Keith’s eyes widened. “I am not telling you my birth name.” He says, shaking his head. Lance pouts. “Nope! Not gonna happen!” He insists.

  Lance groans, rolling his eyes and shoving a pillow into Keith’s face. Keith laughs, hitting Lance with said pillow. “Go to your bed!”

  Lance shakes his head, grabbing his own pillow. He smacks Keith on the shoulder. “Lance, I am not taking your bed.”

  Lance smacks him again. Keith hits him back. “I’m not taking your bed!” Keith shrieks, dodging the pillow. It takes a few minutes of fighting and smacking, but Keith wins the battle. Lance huffs, standing from his spot.

  Keith smirks as he ends up laying on the floor in the bundle of spare blankets and pillows.

  The lights were shut off and Lance made sure to walk around Keith’s body. He flops onto his bed, pulling the comforter up to his chin. He might not enjoy losing, but he liked being warm.

  “You okay?” Lance whispers after a small window of silence. Keith hums. “Yeah,” he mutters, nodding although Lance couldn’t see him. “I just hope you don't step on me in the morning.”

  Lance muffles his laugh behind the thick comforter, not wanting to wake anyone up. Keith smirks. They go silent once more, staring up at the ceiling.

  Keith is positive Lance isn’t asleep, even after thirty minutes of said silence.

  “Lance,” He calls out, nothing above a hushed whisper. He hears a faint hum in response. Keith shuffles under his blankets.

  “…Um, it’s okay to… talk, y’know? You can talk to me…um, if you’d like…you’re under no obligation, but, uh…yeah.”

  Lance goes still, forgets to breathe for a second or two. Keith waits anxiously for a response. Anything really.

   Give me something, Lance.

  “About…what?” Lance musters. He cringes at his hesitant tone. Keith hears Lance rearrange himself under his sheets. Keith grips at his own sheets.

  “Anything, Lance. Just…talk to me. You’re allowed to,” Keith says, his eyebrows knitting in concern.

  Lance’s eyes feel hot. He swallows. He can’t just…talk. He can’t just…

  “Tell me about you,” Keith then whispers. “I don’t know anything about you, really.”

  Lance gets stuck on the astral plane. He thinks about his family, himself, then his friends, and then Keith.

  Keith’s hands, soft and warm on his cheeks; Keith’s smile, gentle and close-lipped; Keith’s eyes, dark and caring.

  Lance thinks about friendship, fondness, and…love.

  “…The color red…is nice.” Lance murmurs. Keith grins wide. “You remember that?” He chuckles quietly.

  Lance shrugs to himself. “I have a brain…thank you very much.” He mutters. Keith snorts into his blankets.

  “Purple…is my favorite.” Lance adds. Keith whispers a “why?” and Lance doubts he’s actually as intrigued as he sounds.

  “Blue is…calm, cool, soothing, comfortable. Like love.” He whispers back, eyes falling closed as he continues. “Red…bright, fiery, passionate, bold…Like love…Purple.”

  Keith stays quiet, thinking it over. Lance grows anxious. “Yeah…like two halves of one heart,” Keith then contributes, surprising Lance.

  “Yeah…” Lance starts, his sentence drifting off. The silence weaves back into their conversation, neither one if them saying a word.

  “…Love…” Lance then whispers, startling Keith just a bit. Keith furrows his eyebrows, focusing on Lance’s steady breathing. “Hm?”

  “I…want somebody to…yeah,” He mutters. Keith blinks up at the ceiling letting Lance’s words sink in.

  “Love?” He finishes.

  Lance twists in his sheets, uncomfortable. Keith understood why, this wasn’t the type of topic you'd just… talk about. Keith’s glad Lance trusts him enough to share though.

  “…Well, um, sorta? Not like… love. But like, um…” Keith holds his breath, patiently waiting for Lance to elaborate. There was no way he was about to cut him off.

  “Not like love,” Lance repeats, searching for the right words. “Someone to…be with? Like…no. Like…someone to trust? Care for, comfort? Someone to…be with.”

  Keith hums in understanding. “Like…domestic?” He asks. He hears Lance shift again.

  “Yeah…like a…best friend? Just…not so platonic? Yeah…Someone you can be yourself around. Someone you’re comfortable with…”

  “But not love?”

  Lance shifts. “Not quite…almost…not love yet. Just someone to be there for…Be affectionate with…” Keith shifts.

  “Small things…domestic things…like hand holding…” Keith feels his face grow hot. “Just…hands. On your knee, thigh, cheeks.…Arms around your waist. Face tucked into your neck. Hugs in general…”

  Keith might burst into flames. Lance presses his face onto the cold side of the pillow.

  “…Kisses…small ones…on your forehead…temples…cheeks…nose…neck…shoulders…tummy… hands …fingertips…Not like, sexually either…just to feel. To make sure you’re…yeah. Um, someone who’s is as fond of you as you are of them…”

  Lance feels his throat constrict, his eyes feel wet. He sniffles.

  “…I…want that…y’know? I…want…I-I don't…But I don’t…” Lance drifts off, tears silent streaming down down his cheeks, glistening in the moonlight peeping in from behind the curtains.

  Keith blinks, blinks, and blinks again. His vision is blurry and he can barely make out the lightbulbs on the ceiling. He can hear Lance sniffle, even under the thick grey comforter. Keith swallows, his voice cracking as he finally responds.

  “…You do deserve that, L-ance. You do…You’ve been through so much…You’ve been so strong…You deserve it…please don’t think otherwise.”

  Lance sighs shakily, sniffling. It’s quiet for a minute. Two. Five. After ten, Keith is sure Lance has fallen asleep.

  So he nuzzles his face into his blanket and closes his eyes, letting Lance’s steady breathing lull him to sleep.

Chapter Text

   Keith is awoken by a soft melody coursing through the still air of 2 am. He thinks he’s imagining it at first, maybe even still dreaming. The voice is soft and mellow, emitting hushed lyrics under the blurry moonlight.

  Keith is halfway convinced that it’s an angel, a sad and hesitant one. As Keith finally mustered enough energy to crack his eyes open and focus to the dark, he realized where the sound was coming from. It was Lance.

   Maybe it really was an angel…

  “…Anxiety…tossing turning in your sleep…even if you run away…you still see them in your dreams…It's so dark tonight…but you'll survive certainly…It's alright…come inside…and talk to me…”

  Lance’s voice wavered between the phrases, cracking a bit too. Though Keith didn’t recognize the song, he could tell it was meant to be sung a little quicker, and not as slowly as Lance was reciting it. He was singing it in a rather sad tune.

  Lance continued on to what Keith assumed to be the bridge. “We can talk here on the floor…On the phone if you prefer…I’ll be here until you’re okay…”

  Keith shuffled in his blankets, closing his eyes. He had no intent to fall asleep again, he just wanted to listen.

  “…Let your words release your pain…You and I will share the weight…Growing stronger…day by day…”

  Lance drifts off, not having the heart to keep going. What if someone woke up? Woke up to him pathetically serenading the moon?

   Yeah…the moon.

  “Lance…” Keith started, opening his eyes again. Lance jumped, startled. He shifted his body to the edge of the bed, peering over a corner. Keith was staring at the ceiling, eyes droopy, but big. They flicked over to Lance.

  “Did…I wake you?” Lance whispered, embarrassed.

   Oh my god, I did. Didn’t I? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!…Good going.

  Keith nodded slowly. Lance groaned internally. “‘M sorry,” He muttered, scooting back to the center of the bed to avoid any eye contact. He lay on his stomach, stuffing his face into the pillow.

  Keith smiled. “It’s okay…You have a nice voice.” He admits, wishing he could see Lance’s expression.

  Lance huffs. His face feels hot.

  “I…haven’t heard myself sing in…” He drifts off, trying to remember. An uncomfortable feeling lies in the bottom of Keith’s stomach. Lance not being able to remember…worried him.

  “…Do you…want to…” Lance whispers, changing the subject. “…I-I want to show you something…”

  Lance crawls out of bed, tip toeing across the room. He slips a pair of vans on as Keith sits up. “Oh, um…okay then.” Keith responds, removing the bed sheets. He grabs his boots and puts them on, standing up and following Lance, who was halfway out the door.

  They walk slowly down the hall, occasionally stopping when a floorboard squeaks a little too loudly. “C’mon.” Lance says, grabbing a pair of keys from the hooks near the door. Keith holds his breath.

  Lance unlocks the door and they slip out onto the porch, closing the door softly. They make their way down the driveway, towards a small black car.

  “It’s Veronica’s.” Lance says, unlocking it. He sits in the driver’s seat as Keith shuffles into the passenger's.

  They remain silent as Lance starts the car, cringing at the sound. It was dark outside, save the dim yellow light coming from the street lamps. It was also quiet, it was two am. Lance didn’t want to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood, thank you.

  They stayed quiet as Lance pulled out of the driveway and onto the empty street. Keith had hundreds of questions bubbling in his throat, yet, he let them die on his tongue. This will all make sense once Lance speaks to him, he’s sure of it.

  They drive for a good ten minutes, Keith’s head lolling on his own shoulder and eyes blinking open every five seconds. The gentle hum of the car and the warmness of the interior was severely inviting, but Keith scold himself everytime he dozed off.

  Next thing he knew, they were parked in front of a closed fence, under a blown out streetlight. Lance shuts the car off, opening the door. “Follow me,” He murmurs.

  Keith complies, exiting the car and following Lance, who was walking down the side of the fence. It’s only when Keith spots a swing set in the distance, he realizes Lance had taken him to some type of park.

  “Down here,” Lance whispers. He lifts up the bottom half of the warped fence, grunting. Keith gives him a skeptical look, but crawls under anyway.

  Why exactly are they sneaking into a public park way after hours?

  Lance crawls under himself, the fence snagging his shirt for a second or two. He unhooks it and stands. “There’s a lake over there,” He says, pointing straight ahead. Keith nodded, though it was too dark to see anything.

  They walk forward, going down a small hill. The grass turns into dirt under their feet, then sand. They stop before the water could kiss their toes.

  Lance lets out a deep breath, sitting down in the damp sand. Keith follows him down.

  “Stars are a bit more visible here,” Lance whispers, looking up. Keith nods, glancing at the dark sky. The moon is a crescent with tiny stars twinkling around it. Keith doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen more than three stars at a time.

  “Hunk, Pidge, and I…we used to come here often. Usually at sunset. It gets really pretty…They don’t come here anymore…so, I guess it’s all mine now.” Lance says, scribbling in the sand with his finger.

  “The lake is closed off from the park…off limits. So we pried the fence up…”

  Keith hums, turning to look at Lance. Lance is looking down at his shoes, thinking. Keith looks out at the water. His reflection stares back at him, a sad look on his face. Keith frowns.

  “It’s okay to ask.” Lance then says. Keith turns his head quickly, hurting his neck.

  “What?” He breathes. Lance gives him a small smile. Keith clears his throat. “I rather you just…from the beginning, if you'd like?

  Lance chuckles, though it's rid of any humor. “Yeah, where else am I supposed to start?” He teases. Keith smiles at that.

  Lance looks back down, his hands playing with the sand once more. “Um…well…”

  Keith grabs his hand gently, pulling it away from the ground. Lance lets out a sigh, beginning to mess with Keith’s fingers. They share a short moment of silence before Lance starts again.

  “It…was a joke, at first. Um, I-I don't…remember…how it became a thing.…But um, Allura…she…was just…joking, y’know.  I-I had said something…and she just said “Hush now, Lance,” and uh, yeah…”

  Keith glares at the water. Allura…

  “It was…weird…I talked…a lot, so, I-I assumed everyone was used to it. Uh…no one really said anything about it…I-I didn’t think they cared much, but…yeah. So she said that and…everyone started using it. I-I don’t know why, but uh…I guess they thought it was funny?”

  Funny…funny. Funny!

  Lance laughs bitterly. “It was funny actually. For a while…Next thing I know…it’s only thing I hear them ever say to me…I-I tried to stop…Joking and…just, being annoying in general…But every time I tried t-to speak, i’d get hushed…I brushed it off a lot…but I…it got to me…”

  Lance tightens his hold on Keith’s hand, sighing shakily. Keith squeezes back.

  “I-I didn’t talk unless I needed to…unless I was spoken to…m-my mom she…we went to the doctor’s and…I got diagnosed with depression…This was back in…March? Yeah…Uh, it was a… bad month for me, Keith. The antidepressants…they…didn’t sit well at first. It took…time to get used to them. I-I had to switch prescriptions so often, I lost count…We found one that actually helped a few weeks later…”

  Lance leans into Keith, their sides pressing together. Lance feels warm up against him. Keith sighs.

  “…Um…It was an experiment, sorta? I just…wanted to see…I wanted to see if they would…notice, y’know? With all their hushing and stuff…I thought it would take a while before they did…but not this long. I stopped talking…in April…I didn’t see a reason to…It didn’t… matter anymore, so I…stuck to this…façade I had created…I became…someone else almost…”

  Lance yawned. “…And…and…I-I never said anything to them…It didn’t matter…They didn’t care…”

  Keith drops his head onto Lance’s shoulder. “I care,” He whispers.

  “And then…you came along.”

  Keith pulls away, taking his hand back. He turns his body towards Lance. “What do you mean?”

  Lance smiles sheepishly, face burning. He looks down at his lap.

  “…You were nice…to me…You actually…care…You took the time to…befriend me, e-even if I didn’t fucking speak. You…have been there for me more than my friends ever had…”

  Keith feels his mouth go dry and can practically hear his heart in his ears.

  “…I get…bad, sometimes. Meds help, but…yeah. I used to get really bad, but with you…I…feel…good. About…myself. I don’t…You care…So much. It amazes me. It’s comforting…Half of the time I don’t even care…”

  Lance didn’t elaborate, he didn't have to. Keith instantly understood. It clenched at his heart, took control of his hands.

  He took hold of Lance’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

  “It’s okay…I-I get…bad sometimes too…” He admits quietly. Lance’s shoulders sag and the atmosphere is somber.

  “…But y’know what keeps me going?” Keith adds. Lance stares at him expressionlessly. Keith can feel his heart beat a tattoo into his chest.

  Keith guides Lance’s left hand onto his neck, right under his jaw. Lance’s breath hitches.

  “Feel that?” Keith murmurs. Lance swallows, nodding slowly.

  He can feel it. “Pulse?” He whispers. Keith chuckles.

  “It’s called a purpose.” He corrects. “And you…”

  Keith’s left hand reaches up and delicately presses two fingers on Lance’s neck. Lance’s heart beats a mile a minute.

  “…have one too.”

  Lance’s eyes sting. He’s hot, he has silent tears streaming down his cheeks, Keith is halfway there.

  The world stops. The gentle breeze once flowing in the air halts. The lake loses its ripples. The moon shines. The stars twinkle a little brighter.

  The air is still. It’s silent, save for their unsteady breathing. Lance’s hand trembles, a shiver runs down Keith’s spine.

  A hotness spreads from deep inside Lance's stomach all throughout his body, because there are hands…hands…hands.

  They are warm and soft on his face, just like he remembered them. They gently cradle his cheeks and Lance is hot, hot, hot.

  His own hands travel down, softly tugging on a black shirt. A fire blazes inside of him as he inches closer.

  Lance sighs shakily and a pair of lips meet his own, sweet, cold, and nimble. The fire distinguishes. He sighs once more.

  It ends too soon, but they can both still feel a faint tingle on their lips.

  Keith sniffles. Lance’s hands go limp. Keith places a ghost of a kiss behind his ear.

  Lance’s head falls onto Keith’s shoulder, cold nose tucking into his neck. Arms wrap around his waist tightly. Keith hugs back with the same amount of force.

  Their crying ceases as they sit in the damp sand, under the moonlight, and over the water, clinging onto one other.

  “…My birth name is Akira.” Keith ends up whispering. Lance laughs into his neck. Keith smiles.

  “Nice to meet you,” He sniffles. “A fucking delight, really.” Keith can feel his grin.

  Keith isn’t worried anymore. He thinks they’ll be just fine.

Chapter Text

   Lance didn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that. In fact, he ended up not going to school the whole week.

  He had informed his mother he didn’t want to. He just couldn't. Rosa, being the understanding mother she was, had agreed. She had been rather delighted with the fact that he told her himself.

  Of course, Keith stayed at his side, keeping him company. He didn’t go to school either. In retrospect, it was a terrible idea. Altean Academy didn’t exactly “go easy” on its students.

  Keith was sure by the time they had to go back, they would be far behind, with piles and piles of missed work.

  But as he watched Lance (attempt to) throw pieces of popcorn up into the air and into his mouth (which ended up failing 50 percent of the time), he decided that school wasn’t the most important thing in his life at the moment.

  Keith’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored it, knowing it would be another message from Shiro or even, Adam.

  It had been going on since Monday, when Keith didn’t go home that night. Shiro called him twenty times and texted him forty times out of pure panic. Keith had deleted the chat and shut his phone off.

  He hasn’t been home since Monday morning, and it was currently three pm on Friday.

  “Dominos.” Lance gasps, eyes wide. There was popcorn surrounding him on the floor and he had two (of Rachel’s) barrettes parting his hair (Keith himself had a pink scrunchie tying his hair up, looking like a “Little pineapple,” as Lance had said).

  Lance looking like he’d just figured out all the secrets of the universe was a fucking sight to say the least.

  “What?!” Keith laughed hysterically. Lance laughed as well, turning to look up at him.

  “Dominos.” He repeats, grinning. Keith laughs harder, wheezing. His body slumps on the couch as he grabbed on his stomach.

  “Fucking breathe–I can’t fucking–Dominos?! What the fuck?!”

  Keith is close to tears and Lance is enjoying watching him snort and wheeze like an idiot.

  “Dominos. We should get Dominos. They’re blue cheese is so good.” Lance explains, going back to throwing popcorn into his mouth.

  Keith stops laughing and sighs deeply, trying to cool his face. “Fuck…yeah. Okay, sounds cool. Their garlic sauce is better though.” He chuckles.

  Lance rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. “It’s not, but okay.”

  Keith scoots to the edge of the couch, peering over Lance’s shoulder. He sees Lance open safari and type in Dominos. He goes on the website and orders a large pizza.

  “Get garlic.” Keith murmurs. Lance hums, turning his head slightly. Their noses bumped.

  Keith swayed back startled, putting a few inches between the two. Lance’s eyes flick down to his lips before flicking up again.

  Lance leans forward slowly. Keith follows. Their noses brush and Lance turns his head at the last second, Keith’s lips placing a kiss onto his cheek instead.

  “Lance,” Keith whines. “Don’t do that.”

  Lance giggles, turning his head again. He lurches forward and pecks the tip of Keith’s nose. Keith pulls back quickly, face flushing. “Fuck.” He whispers.

  Lance laughs, going back to his phone. “Forty minutes at most.” He informs. Keith hums in response, not trusting his voice.

  Now, they weren’t exactly together (Keith didn’t think that was what Lance needed right now), but Keith would be sure to take advantage when the right moment presented itself.

  Sure, he was happy with how they were now, comfortable and close, but he was absolutely dying to put an official label on their relationship.

  “Best-friends-but-kinda-sorta-more-than-that” wasn’t doing any justice for either of them. Also, Keith wouldn’t mind showing Lance off as his boyfriend.

  “I think I…we should…go back to school,” Lance utters, looking at the television. How to Train Your Dragon was playing on the screen for the third time this week. Lance didn’t seem to get sick of it and Keith didn’t mind.

  Keith shuffled in his spot on the couch, adjusting himself so he was leaning on the armrest. “Are you sure?” He asks.

  Lance turns and looks up at him. “Well, uh, we’ve missed so much already,” He states, offering a small smile.

  Keith shrugs. “It’s not the most important thing now, really. You are,” He retaliates.

  Lance looks back at the screen, face burning. “I think we should…I think I should…I’m okay with it.”

  Keith stands up from the couch, ruffling Lance’s hair playfully. “Okay, Lean. Monday then,” He says, making his way towards the kitchen.

  Lance giggles behind him. “Okay Aki!” He shouts as Keith walks into the hall.

  His face burns as he goes into the kitchen, grabbing a cold water bottle from the fridge. Keith had accidently called Lance “Lean” once and Lance wouldn’t let him live it down.

  Lance had affectionately named him “Aki” in retaliation. Keith would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely melt whenever Lance called him that.

  Keith heads back down the hall, only to be stopped by someone knocking on the front door. “I got it!” Keith yells. Lance yells back an “Okay!”

  Chuckling, Keith opens the door. His smile drops.

  On the porch stood Adam, Romelle, Matt, and Hunk. They were all wearing guilty (yet confused) expressions as they stared at Keith. Keith quickly pulled off the pink scrunchie, fixing his hair.

  “What are you guys doing here?” He asks, crossing his arms. Adam clears his throat.

  “We’re here to speak to Lance. But since you’re here, I need to speak to you too.” He says. Keith raises an eyebrow, still protectively blocking the door.  

  “May we speak to Lance, please?” Hunk asks quietly. Keith sighs, losing his standoffish demeanor.

  “Come in,” He mutters, moving. The four of them scramble inside. Keith closes the door and leads them into the living room.

  “Pizza here?” Lance asks, turning towards them. He freezes at the sight.

  “They want to talk. Are you okay with that?” Keith asks slowly. Lance blinks. He gulps, nodding his head lightly.

  Keith sighs, upset with Lance’s expression. “Are you sure?” He asks, sending him a look. Lance nods. Keith leaves reluctantly, knowing that they needed to talk it out without him death glaring at all of them.

  He waits in the hall, leaning against a wall bare of any photo frames. Ten minutes go by and he finds himself sinking down onto the floor, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him.

  Adam is the first one to come out into the hall and Keith scrambles up at his arrival. Adam gulps, smiling tightly. Keith crosses his arms.

  “Well?” He says, raising his eyebrows. Adam shrugs.

  “Shiro’s worried about you,” Adam responds, adjusting his glasses. Keith exhales out of his nose.

  “Good.”

  “Keith,” Adam stresses. “I’m serious. He has no idea where you are and you haven’t called. You haven’t been to school. Plus, you’ve ignored us everytime we tried to contact you.”

  “I have a valid reason.” Keith retaliates. Adam sighs.

  “I understand you’ve been with Lance and I can’t thank you enough for that. But you can’t just cut us off like that just because you’re angry. Shiro has been so stressed and so worried for the past week he can barely sleep. He’s not taking care of himself.” He explains.

  Keith finds himself glaring at Adam. “And that’s my problem how?”

  Adam looks annoyed. “Look, you need to come home. Go to school. You need to let Shiro know you’re okay.”

  “You tell him. He’s fucking eighteen, he can take care of himself. I’m busy.”

  Adam looks ready to scream. “With what?! You haven’t been to school in days! You’re falling behind as we speak! What the hell are you doing that’s so important?” He questions.

  Keith rolls his eyes. “How about being an actual fucking friend to the person you’ve been mistreating for months?! Being someone Lance can actually fucking count on?!”

  Adam takes a step back, his breath hitching. A flash of hurt crosses his face, but Keith blinks and its gone, replaced with anger.

  “I understand! But for how much longer?! How much time is this going to take?!” He shouts.

  “You don’t get to ask that, Adam.” Keith states coldly. Adam stands there, stunned.

  Then, he cries.

  “I’m–I…I’m so sorry! I know that, I do! It’s just–Shiro…he…I’m so fucking worried, Keith. He was so upset about the whole Lance thing, and then…you…you just…I’m sorry!” He sobs. He wipes at his eyes and Keith’s face softens. He lets his arms fall to his sides.

  “Fuck, Adam. I’m sorry.” He says softly. Adam wasn’t to blame, Keith knew that. He had never mistreated Lance in the slightest. Keith was just mad. And Adam was just too good of a person, worried for his boyfriend.

  “N-No. I’m sorry! Lance–Lance deserves a friend like you right now. He’s–We’re terrible fucking friends.” He admits, sniffling. “Thank you, so so much. For taking care of him.”

  Keith sighs. “It’s okay, Adam. I’ll text later. We’ll be back to school on Monday. Just, let us have the weekend, please.”

  Adam wipes at his eyes once more, smiling wearily. “Yes, yes, okay. Um, thanks again. I-I know it’ll take a while for him to uh…yeah. Um, keep doing what you're doing. I won’t pester you guys…I see how much he means to you.”

  Keith blushes, averting his eyes. “I’m still mad at Shiro.”

  Adam nods. “I know. I’m sorry about him. He’ll come around, I promise. The others too. They’re just too stubborn for their own goods.”

  Keith nods along. “Yeah, I realized.” Adam smiles tightly.

  They wait for the others to come out, leaning against the wall. Apparently, Adam was their ride.

  The next one to step out is Matt, and Keith begins to wonder why the people who caused the least harm are apologizing.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about Pidge. She was just upset.” He says towards Keith. Keith shrugs.

  “I know, but she had no reason to lash out like she did. She didn’t know half the story. She needs to apologize herself.” Keith emphasizes. Matt nods in agreement.

  He wasn’t at fault either. Neither Adam nor Matt knew Lance well enough to be considered guilty. Hell, even Romelle was pretty innocent. Hunk barely saw Lance during school. They were all rightfully oblivious to what had been going on.

  Another ten minutes later, Lance, Hunk, and Romelle come out into the hall in a jumble, Hunk and Romelle wiping at their eyes.

  Romelle sniffles. “I’m so sorry about Allura! She was just confused and-and–”

  “Being an asshole about it?” Keith finishes. Romelle sniffs again, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

  Keith sighs. “Look, you don’t need to apologize for her. That’s not your job.”

  Romelle nods. Lance stands beside Keith, pink barrettes gone, their shoulders brushing. Keith purses his lips.

  “Thanks for coming, you guys. Tell the others to get their heads out of their asses for me.” He says, ushering the group out of the house. Hunk and Romelle let out broken laughs as Adam snorts. Matt chuckles.

  Keith opens the door for them and they walk out onto the porch. They exchange short goodbyes and Keith watches them climb into Adam’s car. He goes back inside and closes the door, sighing.

  He walks back into the living room, where Lance was lying down on the couch, watching the tv screen. He looked absolutely listless. Keith frowns and kneels at his side.

  “How’d it go?” He whispers. Lance gulps. There are tears welling up in his eyes. Keith stands, groaning.

  “You’ve could’ve said no.” He informs, nudging at Lance’s body. Lance scoots towards the edge and shakes his head. Keith flops down onto space behind him, spooning him from behind.

  “You could’ve.” He insists. Lance shakes his head again, turning around so they were chest to chest. There are tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Keith runs his fingers through Lance’s hair as Lance’s arms wrap around his waist. Lance adjusts himself so his head was lying on Keith’s chest. He sniffs.

  “It’s okay Lean. You did so good, today. Facing them like that. You’ve been so strong.” He coos. Lance sniffs again. Keith places a kiss into his hair.

  “It’s okay. Are you going to forgive them?” He asks softly. Lance shrugs. Keith sighs.

  “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to forgive them so quickly. Not after what happened.” He admits. Lance shrugs again.

  He looks up at Keith with sad eyes. Keith’s stomach churns unpleasantly.

  “Give it time.” He whispers. Lance nods. Keith smiles slightly, leaning down to press a kiss on Lance’s forehead. Lance giggles quietly. Keith smirks.

  “So that’s what it’s gonna take for you to cheer up?” He teases. Lance hides his face into Keith’s chest, grinning.

  Keith sits up on the couch, turning to hover over above Lance, his knee in between his legs and hands on either side of his face.

  Lance blushes harder at the action.

  Keith chuckles, pressing another kiss on Lance's forehead. Lance squirms. Keith begins littering his face with quick pecks, making Lance giggle madly.

  Lance is burning, there are lips on his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his eyelids. He’s giggling like an idiot. Then, there’s a final peck on his temple and Lance finds himself finally being able to breathe correctly.

  Keith laughs above him. “I’m tired. And, Oh no! Gravity’s pulling down upon me!” He exclaims. Keith gives up on hovering and lets himself fall down onto Lance.

  The both emit an ‘oof’ sound and they spiral into a fit of laughter, momentarily forgetting the reason why Lance was upset.

  “Hola niños,” Rosa greets kindly, a pizza box in her hands. They both freeze before scrambling off of eachother, sitting on the couch correctly. Rosa smirks.

  “We didn’t hear you come in,” Keith says bashfully. Lance is trying not to die as he blankly stares at the tv screen.

  “Yeah, I realized. Order more pizza, would you? I’m taking a break tonight.” She says, placing the pizza on the coffee table. “Oh, and some hot wings. Extra blue cheese.”

  Rosa leaves the living room and Keith blows a raspberry. “That wasn’t embarrassing.” He says sarcastically.

  Lance snaps out of his trance, sending Keith a grin. Keith chuckles, reaching over to flip open the pizza box.

  He takes the biggest slice and shoves it into Lance’s hands. Lance hums gratefully.

  “Bone apple tea, am I right?” Keith mutters, taking a piece for himself. Lance snorts.

;

  Monday morning came way too soon. Keith worried that a measly week wasn’t enough time for Lance to gather himself after what had happened. He even seemed to be severely shaken up when Adam, Matt, Romelle, and Hunk came to apologize. Keith didn’t think he was able to face them again, especially not the others.

   Yet, Lance was persistent, he insisted on going to school and there was nothing that could change his mind (then again, if Keith tried hard enough, he knew he’d be able to convince Lance to stay home).

  It wasn't that Keith was opposed to the idea of going to school, in fact, he thought it would be good for Lance (and be an important part of his healing process), he was just really worried of what would happen if Lance was confronted by one of the others.

  “Blasphemy,” Lance gasps as he walks back into his bedroom. Keith is standing in front of Lance’s full body mirror, in yet another one of Lance’s outfits (Keith had been wearing his clothes all week since he refused to go home).

  It wasn’t anything special really, it was an olive green shirt (with two horizontal black stripes on the chest) tucked into a pair of black jeans (which were rolled up because Lance’s legs were way longer than Keith’s). He also wore one of Lance’s jean jackets (he had a few), which was a dark, almost navy, blue.

  “Why do you look better in my clothes than I do? They’re my fucking clothes,” Lance sighs. Keith snorts as Lance flops onto his bed, slipping on his black pair of vans.

  “I don’t, but thanks.” He says, grabbing his gloves from where they lay on Lance’s desk. He slips them on and Lance jumps from the bed, grabbing his bag from under his desk. Keith does the same.

  “You’d honestly look good in anything. Don’t be so modest, it's offensive to those of us who aren’t as beautiful.” Lance says as they walk down the hall and into the kitchen.

  There is no Rosa cooking a hearty breakfast today, she had gone to work not thirty minutes ago.

  “Oh my fucking god,” Keith starts, grabbing a pear from the fruit bowl. Lance grabs an apple. “You’re literally the most beautiful person I know.”

  Lance blushes and is about to object, but was stopped by Keith lightly placing his hand over his mouth.

  “You get absolutely no say in this. In conclusion, you’re fucking gorgeous. Thank you.” He says, as if he was wrapping up a business meeting.

  Lance’s face flushes, but doesn’t speak a word even as Keith smirks, ushering him out of the front door.

;

  School isn’t really interesting that Monday. Sure, there were hushed whispers and stolen glances, but nothing to cause more than a gentle stir in the junior social bubble. Keith was sure there were rumors, but he didn’t bother listening to them.

  There was something… odd though. People were…nice? Keith and Lance were waved at in the hallways and sent sweet smiles along with them. The teachers didn’t pay them any mind (which was weird because they get scolded at for being too giggly incredibly often), and that only proved that they heard what had happened.

  Keith’s grateful for all the people that didn’t side eye at them like they were some attraction at a freakshow.

  They didn’t bump into the others their first block and Lance had assured Keith that he didn’t have any of them for third. Thankfully enough, they didn’t spot them in the hallways either.

  The only problem that day, Keith thinks, would be that they had no idea where to sit during lunch. Keith absolutely loathed the idea of sitting where they used to, so they had slowly walked around the courtyard, looking for an empty bench.

  Fortunately, a sweet bunch of students had swept them away to their table, insisting that it was no trouble at all. They were kind kids, a few of them being sophomores.

  Keith was honestly so thankful for them.

  “Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Elliott exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably. They were a short junior with amazing sense of style. They had been the one to offer seats to both Keith and Lance.

  Vi giggles along. She was a junior who had a bright yellow pixie cut and an even brighter personality.

  “That’s the good kush!” Mike responds. He was a sophomore with curly pink hair, circular glasses, and snake bites.

  “You’re a fucking idiot!” Tyler stresses, laughing along. He was a junior with fluffy brown hair and a high pitched voice.

  “Stop bullying Mike!” Corey says, eyes crinkling behind their glasses. They were a sophomore with dark green hair and a tongue piercing.

  They all had been laughing over a bad meme Mike had airdropped to the group.

  Keith and Lance wore amused grins while eating their lunches. They felt comfortable around them.

  The group explained that they had overheard what happened, and even praised them for sticking up to the others. Keith liked them instantly.

  “Y’all just haters!” Mike says, grabbing his bag.

  “Your memes suck!” Tyler laughs.

   “Now listen here, buddy boy,” Mike raises his eyebrows, unzipping one of the pockets of his bag, pulling out a pair of sunglasses.

  He places them over his own, looking like a goddamn fool. “Words can't hurt me, these shades are gucci!” He says, making weird hand movements.

  Lance barks out a laugh as the rest of group rolls their eyes. “See?! This guy knows comedy!” Mike laughs.

  “Stop it, you’re encouraging him.” Keith chuckles. Lance snorts. He likes these guys.

;

   There isn’t really much to say. Lance and Keith trudged through the rest of the day together, breathing a sigh of relief when the dismissal bell rang throughout the building.

   There was no interaction between them and the others, and there wouldn’t be until a week later.

   It was Shiro next. He had gone to Lance’s house, where Keith practically lived at this point. He and Lance had talked in the kitchen, leaving Keith to shift uncomfortably on the couch in the living room, missing Lance’s warmth.

  It was about a forty minute discussion, and when they both emerged from the kitchen, Lance had tear tracks on his cheeks. Shiro was crying. He thanked Lance for allowing them to speak, told Keith he was welcome home for dinner, and left.

  Keith didn’t go home that night. Instead, he comforted the worn out Lance in his arms. If they shared a few kisses, no one needed to know.

   Next, surprisingly, was Allura. Keith had been reluctant to even let her inside in the first place, so he had no idea why he left her alone with Lance.

  They talked. It had been exactly an hour and seven minutes. Lance came out of his room, a stoic look on his face. Allura came out in tears.

  She apologized to Keith, and left.

  It took about another week for Pidge to show up at their doorstep. She came inside, eyes already welled up with tears.

  She and Lance spoke in the kitchen, in hushed voices and quiet sobs. Keith stood in the hallway.

  Pidge then left faster than she came. Lance cried into his pillow that night. Keith spooned him until he fell asleep.

  Keith never asked about the apologies. Not once. He didn’t want to upset Lance, and quite frankly, it wasn’t any of his fucking business. He didn’t mind. He didn’t need to know what they had said. Didn’t want to.

  Lance had fallen back into his habit for a few days. Not speaking to anyone for any reason. It hurt Keith to see him like that.

  But he stayed. He was there for every broken sob, every scream into a pillow, every tear shed in the ungodly hours of early morning.

  And Lance…got better. He really did. He started speaking a bit more often, making Keith giddy with anticipation. He couldn’t wait until Lance was confident enough to speak in public.

  It was an agonizingly slow process, even just to get him to speak with members of his own family. Keith didn’t mind. He never did.

  He’d gently encourage Lance to talk during dinner and coax him into saying a few words during lunch. Lance would shyly oblige.

  Keith was beginning to learn what Lance was really like because of this. And god dammit, he would fall even more in love every time he’d open his fucking mouth.

  Rachel and Lance were extremely similar, Keith ended up finding out.

  Lance liked to talk, he rambled about something totally offtopic whenever he could. He had the shittiest pick up lines ever and Keith laughed (and blushed) every fucking time. How the fuck could anyone find this boy annoying? It was endearing. Charming even.

  Or maybe Keith’s just a little too far gone.

  Keith loved to hear him speak so confidently, so happily. He’d be a bit shy at first, but once Keith got him going, he never stopped. Keith, honestly, was absolutely living for it.

  Anytime Lance would speak, Keith listened. He’d get a dopey look on his face and he’s sure Veronica and Rachel (and maybe even Rosa) have got blackmail on him. He couldn't help it really. Seeing Lance so happy just…

   Ughh. Y’know?

  He’s gotten better with hiding it though, well, not really. Their friends (more specifically Tyler and Mike) constantly tease Keith privately, when Lance isn’t present. They’re not fucking blind, they absolutely do know what’s up.

  Speaking of friends (or more so, ex friends), neither Keith or Lance really speak to the others anymore. Sure, there was the occasional wave and the rare classroom conversations, but that was it. Lance wasn’t fit to forgive them just yet.

  It was mostly Romelle, Matt, and Hunk that Lance even bothered to wave at, and they were the only ones Keith even bothered to be nice to anymore.

  They were all seen as classmates at this point, not quite friends. Lance had grown out of them. He had new friends.

  And that was okay. There were no bitter feelings anymore (apart from Keith’s tiny grudges), and Lance was under no obligation to forgive them even if. They understood. They gave him space.

  That space ended up being a permanent thing. And that was okay. It was perfectly normal to fall out with good friends, and in Lance’s situation, it was quite inevitable. And Lance was okay with that.

  He was content with moving on, even if he was a bit anxious to do so. But Keith was there, reassuring him whenever he needed it. They’d be fine.

  Lance was sure they were going to be okay. One hundred percent.

  So that’s why he said yes when Keith asked him to be his.