Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’ve heard that they’re really good,” James said as they wandered along the road.

“You said that about the last group,” Nadia pointed out with clear amusement. 

“Well, that was what I heard,” James replied, haughtily.

Nadia caught Lance’s eye and Lance tried not to laugh. He wasn’t able to stop his grin. “And they’re playing in a bar? Can we even get in?”

“The bar’s letting in underage kids as long as they don’t drink any alcohol.”

“Uh huh,” said Ryan, his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t you say that the time before last and they wouldn’t let us in?”

“Urgh!” James threw his hands in the air. “I try to do nice things for you and this is where it gets me.”

“There, there,” said Ina, patting James’s arm.

On the street ahead of them, Lance spotted a crowd around one of the buildings. A sign above it depicted a lion roaring and claimed the place was called Lionsheart. It was a squat, small building, and Lance wondered how the place would cope with the supposed crowds of fans. There was a bouncer on the door with a serious expression, glaring at some kids who seemed to be keen to enter. Perhaps James’s tip-off was actually right this time.

“Is that it?” Lance asked, nodding towards it.

James seemed relieved when he saw it and lengthened his stride. “Yeah. Come on. If we don’t get in now, there won’t be any room for us.”

The group trailed after them. Lance wasn’t sure what to think of James’s insistence on finding all the good musical groups in the city, but the rest of them were happy to get out and about. They were working really hard in college and it was good to take a break. Even if James was treating it as a work assignment.

When they reached the bouncer, he seemed reluctant to let them in. Thankfully, Ryan and Ina were both 21 and the bouncer let them through - to the dismay of some 18 year olds who had been trying to convince the bouncer that they were going to behave themselves despite the whiff of alcohol clinging to them. James strode in first, Ina after him, and Lance rolled his eyes at James’s seriousness and followed.

Inside, the bar was dimly lit. It was bigger than he’d thought when they’d approached, but there was a huge crowd of people already inside. Most of them were clustered around the stage, though some of them had managed to snag tables as far away from the chaos as possible. Since they were older men and women, Lance assumed that they were the regulars that had been shunted out of the way. There weren’t many tables left, but James zeroed in on one in the middle of the room and shoved his way to it. 

Signs had been put up on the stage for this performance. It declared the musical act as being the band Atlas. There was even a depiction of a man holding up the world as their logo. Or, perhaps, one of their logos; another sign showed a woman looking at an atlas, puzzling over the way to go. Dominating the stage was the drum kit, but there was also a keyboard and a few cases for string instruments. Only one microphone had been set up and Lance was excited to see what would happen when the band started to play.

“I can get drinks,” Ryan offered. “They might not let me bring you alcohol, though.”

“Get me something fruity,” Lance called after him. “I’m in the mood for a cocktail.”

“I’m not sure this place does cocktails,” said Nadia. “Or cocktails without the alcohol.”

“Maybe I’ll be lucky,” replied Lance with a grin. “I’m almost twenty-one.”

“It’s months away,” James corrected him.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Fun killer.”

“You’re so damn annoying,” James huffed.

“Is your boyfriend coming?” Nadia asked, changing the subject. Lance flashed Nadia a thumbs up in gratitude. She kicked his shin in response - maybe she hadn’t purposely helped him out - and he winced as he reached down to rub at the sore spot. 

“Maybe,” James said. “I think he might be working late.”

“What is it he does again?” asked Ina. They’d only met James’s boyfriend once or twice before and he seemed really posh and a fair bit older than them. Or, at least, he had long since graduated and started down the path of his career.

“He, uh, works in a call centre. He’s the manager,” James added.

“I thought he was higher up than that,” Nadia commented. “Wasn’t he working in his father’s company?”

“Oh. Didn’t I mention? He’s left that place and found his own thing to do.”

“Why?” asked Lance, perplexed. Why would you ignore a good job that was served up to you on a silver platter?

“His dad isn’t the greatest,” James explained. “So he’s downgraded - for now. He’s really good at his job, though, and he’ll be promoted fast.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Nadia. “You have so much faith in your boyfriend!”

“Oh, shut up,” James grumbled. Lance and Nadia laughed while Ina smiled with obvious amusement.

Eventually, Ryan made it back with a tray of drinks. He put it on the table. Lance was surprised and pleased to see that there was a pink cocktail among the beer bottles and plain glasses on the tray. Before he could reach for it, Ryan leaned forward. “I took a chance and they gave me alcohol. They’re busy and distracted so they didn’t check who I was buying it all for. Don’t drink it too fast.”

Lance placed his hand on Ryan’s bicep. “You, my friend, are a god among men.”

“Three cheers for Ryan?” Nadia suggested.

“Maybe don’t draw attention to the underage drinking going on?” Ina pointed out.

“Only by a few months,” Nadia grumbled. “Speaking of which, what are you getting me for my birthday, Ina?” Nadia fluttered her eyelashes at her and Ina looked away to pick up her glass. There was a very faint colour to her cheeks which Nadia seemed to miss; Nadia’s shoulders slumped before she quickly recovered. Lance caught James and Ryan’s eyes and shared a look ; the three of them were wondering when that would sort itself out.

At that point, someone got up onto the stage. Lance straightened in his seat and nodded at it. His friends turned to look and he picked up his cocktail to take a sip. There was a hint of cranberry and lime and Lance hummed in appreciation. They were all quiet as they watched the band gather. 

The drummer was a big guy; Lance imagined he had muscles hidden under his clothes which would give him the power for hitting the cymbals. He was wearing an orange headband and he kept tugging on it nervously. A smaller person was speaking to him, clearly trying to calm him down before they wandered over to their keyboard. They played a scale to test it before pushing their glasses up their nose. Standing next to her was a beautiful woman with long white hair that had been looped up onto her head in a partial bun. Her excitement was evident in the way she bounced on her heels for a moment before she turned to one of the cases and pulled out a violin, already hooked up to the amplifier. Two more people climbed onto the stage as he watched the first three setting up. One of them was a tall, muscled man wearing all black. His dark hair blended into his outfit, save for a tuft of white at the front. He seemed kind, smiling sweetly. As he picked up a bass guitar, Lance realised that one of his arms was an advanced prosthetic, the metal gleaming as he flexed his fingers. Lastly, the frontman seemed to be a grumpy, dark-haired guy. His hair was long at the back and brushed his shoulders. If it wasn’t for the red leather jacket, he’d be dressed in an identical way to the bass guitarist. But the jacket was a bright pop of colour to draw people’s attention, even if he didn’t step up to the microphone with a guitar in tow.

Around Lance, the chattering dropped off into a murmur. The frontman looked around the room for a moment. “Hello,” he said into the mic, effectively silencing the bar. “We’re Atlas, and this is ‘Weight of the World’.”

He strummed his guitar and the rest of the instruments started up. It was a slow song, with a lot of bass and sad violin strings. Lance wasn’t entirely impressed - why would you lead with a ballad . Then the frontman closed his eyes, still plucking at his guitar strings, opened his mouth and sang.

Lance gaped. The singer’s voice was husky and deep and it hit Lance right in the heart. With the voice, the music suddenly transcended into epic proportions. There was still something missing, but Lance could appreciate the music. Especially when the lyrics, words about insecurities and struggles with schooling, struck a chord with Lance. 

By the time the song finished, the room was stunned. Someone began to clap and, suddenly, there was thunderous applause. Lance joined in, stopping only to put his fingers in his mouth and whistle appreciatively. James turned to the table and smirked at them.

“Told you! I told you they were good!”

“You didn’t know either,” Nadia retorted, snorting at James’s mock offended expression.

“They’re amazing,” Lance insisted.

“You would fall for them at first sight,” James said with a laugh.

“Shush,” Lance said, pouting at him. “He’s just really good. I love his voice.”

“Wait until they start singing a love song,” James commented, nudging Nadia. “He’s going to fall in love with the singer and we’ll be doomed.”

“We will not,” Lance replied, indignantly.

Once the applause had died down, the band started on another song. This one was more upbeat, more rock than pop. Somehow, the violin made it all the better. It was about fighting robots, though Lance took it to mean how someone was fighting the system or fighting their personal demons and winning. At the end, they said that it was called ‘Battle Forms’.

Lance enjoyed each and every song and, after they had gotten into the swing of things and barely left breaks between songs, Lance didn’t take his eyes off the singer. He was an attractive man, and he was pouring his heart and soul into every song. There was sweat dripping off him yet he barely took a break. Entranced, Lance barely registered when he was given a blue cocktail and only realised when he took a sip expecting cranberry and got the taste of coconut and pineapple instead. He hummed his appreciation, sucking it up through the tiny straw as he kept his eyes fixed on the singer.

One of the songs actually was a touching love song. According to the frontman, it was called ‘Impossible Dreams’. It was about loving someone but having to follow your dreams and let them go. Lance thought it was bittersweet and loving. He was transfixed by it, his heart aching with empathy and with the wish for something even half as incredible as it. As he watched, the singer opened his eyes and, for the first time all evening, looked out over the crowd. He stopped when he caught sight of Lance - or Lance’s table. However, Lance had the feeling that their eyes met as the man kept singing about finding love. Lance’s heart fluttered and he wanted nothing more than to go towards the guy and throw his hat in the ring for being his lover.

When the set finally ended, Lance shook himself from his daze and looked around. His friends were all staring at him, amused. “What?” he said, petulantly.

“You’re completely enamoured,” Nadia teased him.

“He - they - were good. No, not good. Angelic.” Lance looked around at them all. “I could listen to their music all day.”

“Why don’t you go ask if you can buy an album?” Ina suggested, leaning forward to prop her chin up on her clasped hands. 

“I- Well, I-” Lance blustered, his face turning red.

“Yeah,” said James. “If you love them so much, go get ’em.”

Lance glared at him, aware that James was mocking him. “I take it Lotor couldn’t join us?”

James’s glee fell away. “He had to work late. A couple of his clients insisted on him being available after the end of the work day, so he had to stay.”

Feeling bad that he’d brought it up, Lance stood up, walked around the table and patted James’s shoulder. “He’ll come to yours when you get home,” Lance assured him. “You don’t need to worry so much.”

“Hm. Where are you going?”

“I suppose I should ask them for an album,” Lance said. His friends brightened, sensing material for multiple teasing sessions. Narrowing his eyes, Lance waved his finger around the table. “No-one say anything.”

“No promises,” sang Nadia, sweetly.

With a scoff, Lance headed off. The band was still packing up, fending off well-wishers and flirts as they worked. For some reason, the crowd was ignoring the singer. Since he was wearing an epic scowl, Lance could see why. Without his songs, the guy was scary. Still, he was the only one not talking to anyone so Lance approached him.

“Hey, man. Great gig,” he said, hoping a compliment would break the ice.

The singer looked up at him, gave him a once over, and grunted in response.

Lance waited for a moment to see if he would say anything else. When nothing else transpired, Lance said, “I loved the songs. Any chance you’ve got an album I can buy?”

After the man had fiddled with his guitar case for a moment, he turned to Lance. Up close, Lance realised that the man was quite pretty. With the sweat dripping down from his temples, he also looked sexy. Lance bit his lip as he waited for the singer to speak, his heart beating fast. “Unfortunately,” the man said, his voice gravelly from all the singing, “we don’t have one.”

“Really? Are you waiting for it to be released?” Lance asked eagerly.

“No,” said the guy, shortly. “The studios we approached said that there was something missing and we weren’t ‘special enough’. And we couldn’t afford going to others.” He folded his arms over his chest, almost pouting.

“Well, I mean, they weren’t wrong,” Lance commented. “I felt it, too. But, I mean, you’re amazing. The music was good, the lyrics were great, and your voice… God, I wish I was as good as you.”

“You’re a singer?” the man asked, perking up.

“Yeah. Name’s Lance.” He held out his hand and the man hesitated before he took it.

“I’m Keith.” Looking around at his bandmates, Keith gestured at them. “Do you know the others?”

“Uh, no. This is my first time watching your band,” Lance admitted. He waved his hand towards his table. “My friend heard you were good, so we came out to watch.” Surreptitiously looking around, Lance leaned in and cupped a hand around his mouth to whisper, “It didn’t hurt that it’s at a bar and one of my friends is twenty-one.”

Keith looked amused. “Uh huh. So you’ve had some beers.”

“Cocktails, actually,” Lance told him. “A pink one and a blue one.”

“You… don’t know what they were?”

“I trust Ryan,” Lance told him. “Which is lucky. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Lance lowered his gaze, feeling the heat on his cheeks. The alcohol was working its magic and he was sure he’d just said something very stupid and exposing. When he managed to look back up, Lance found that Keith was also blushing. And, as he looked, a drop of sweat rolled down the side of Keith’s face and settled at the corner of his lips. Lance stared until Keith licked it away and he quickly looked up to Keith’s eyes.

Keith was watching him, wide-eyed with surprise. “Um,” he said.

“Anyway,” said Lance, quickly. He hoped he wasn’t slurring. “It’s a shame about the album. I was hoping to listen to it when I got home. It wouldn’t have been the same, but I still wanted to hear your voice…” He trailed off when he realised that he’d made it worse. 

“Well…” Keith took a deep breath. “You’re in luck. We’re trying to record and produce it ourselves. We’ve been working in Allura’s parents’ pool house which they converted into a studio for us.”

“Really? That sounds awesome!” Lance exclaimed. He was about to add something else when the beautiful woman appeared at Keith’s elbow.

“We have to get going,” she told Keith, glancing at Lance with interest. “Shiro just noticed Adam and I don’t want them to have a scene in front of all these people.” She nodded towards the edge of the stage where the bass guitarist - Shiro, presumably - was gazing towards the bar. A man wearing glasses was staring back - and he did not look happy. 

“Right. Yeah. Okay.”

The woman wandered off and Keith turned back to Lance. Tilting his head, Lance asked, “That his ex?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “The Impossible Dreams song is about them.”

“Ouch,” said Lance with a wince.

“Yeah,” said Keith with a heavy sigh. “Anyway, that was Allura. Hunk’s on the drums and Pidge is our keyboardist. They can play the piano too, though.”

“Cool. Uh… I should probably leave you to it…”

“Mm.” Keith didn’t turn away, though. He kept staring at Lance considering him. Lance hovered, unsure whether he was being dismissed or not. Then, Keith added, “Our next gig is gonna be at the local Battle of the Bands in two weeks time. We’re gonna write a new song for it.”

An amused smile spread slowly onto Lance’s face. “Huh. Cool. Will the song be about meeting me?” he teased.

Keith considered him again. “Maybe,” he murmured. It sent shivers down Lance’s spine.

“Well… Battle of the Bands, huh?” Lance grinned. “I’ll see you there.”

“Okay,” Keith replied with a small smile. It was very cute and Lance felt giddy as he returned to his table.

“Well?” asked Nadia.

“They’re going to be at Battle of the Bands,” Lance told them.

“What?!” exclaimed James. “No way, that’s-”

“We’re going to be there,” Lance told him. “I’m looking forward to seeing them on the stage.”

“We still need to get enough money for it,” Ryan pointed out.

“I’ll beg my sister for it,” Lance told them, not even wincing at the prospect of being forced into doing something incredibly embarrassing for Veronica’s amusement. 

“Seriously?” asked Nadia. She laughed. “You’ve got it that bad, huh?”

“Hush!” said Lance, trying not to blush. It was a losing battle, especially when Keith paused on his way out of the bar and looked right at him. Lance smiled shyly and waved at him.

“Oh, wow,” said James. “You are smitten.”

“Stop!” Lance whined. “Let’s just concentrate on getting into Battle of the Bands.”

Two weeks later, Lance and his friends were at the Battle. Veronica had come through, even if Lance had had to promise to let her dress her up in her favourite cosplays in return. He was probably going to regret that, but at least he was going to be able to see Atlas perform - and hopefully he’d get to talk to Keith again, too. 

Lance had been thinking about Keith since the gig, and he was looking forward to seeing the singer once more. He’d made sure to wear his best outfit. A deep blue hoodie to make his eyes pop. Tight jeans so that his ass popped. His best Converse to match his outfit. He had let Nadia and Ina fuss over his hair until, between the three of them, they’d managed to get his curls to sit just so over his eyes. Then they helped each other apply eyeliner and lip gloss and blush to make themselves pretty. Lance’s make-up was more understated than the girls, but he loved the end result. He looked attractive and kissable - which wasn’t for Keith, of course.

He was standing with his friends, waiting by a door, when Keith appeared with the rest of Atlas. Lance perked up and smiled at Keith, waving at him. Keith stumbled a little and Hunk had to catch him by the back of his red jacket to stop him from falling. Behind Lance, he heard Nadia giggling before Ina shushed her.

“Hey,” Lance said to Keith. “Told you I’d see you here.”

“Uh, yeah,” Keith agreed, blushing terribly. It was very cute. Lance wanted to kiss him - the urge wasn’t new, but the sudden, pressing immediacy of it surprised him. He bit his lip and Keith’s eyes darted down to his mouth.

“Oh, hey,” said Pidge. “You guys were at the Lionsheart.”

“Yup,” said James, absently. He was currently texting Lotor who had refused to stay behind at work today and was in the crowd. James was glowing, excited to see him.

“What are you doing back here?” Keith asked, curiously. “Did you come here to wish us luck?”

Lance laughed. “Ah, no. When I told you I was a singer, I may have neglected to tell you that I’m also in a band.” He gestured to his friends. “Meet MFE.”

“MFE?” asked Allura. “What does that mean?”

Before Lance could tell her, Nadia grabbed his arm and poked her head around his body. “We’d like to keep an air of mystery about that, please and thank you.”

“Wait,” said Keith, realisation dawning with a look of horror. “You’re competing against us?”

“Yup.” Lance’s smile faltered in the wake of Keith’s frown. He looked at his friends who seemed to sense the change in atmosphere and looked worried. “We’d love to win, with everything that would give us, but we’re not really expecting to. You’re much better than us.”

“Hey!” said James, looking up from his phone. “Don’t put us down like that. We’re gonna do awesome. Just ’cause you’ve got-”

“Shut up, James,” said Ryan, calmly.

Keith looked really annoyed now. “We need to win this,” he snapped. Lance was taken aback and he shrank away from him. “Some of us need this record deal.”

“I…”

“Hey,” Nadia said, stepping in front of Lance in an attempt to protect him. “Don’t take it out on us. We’re not the only ones here.”

“It makes no sense to single us out,” Ina added, sternly.

“Guys,” said Lance, raising his hands to ask them to stop. “It’s fine.” He looked at Keith, his heart aching. For some reason, he’d expected him and Keith to be able to get along, maybe even go on a date. Maybe those had been ‘impossible dreams’. Lance held back his emotions as much as possible - he could use it in his singing - and said, “I wrote a song about you. We’re gonna sing it last since it’s our newest song. Not that anyone will know, ’cause we don’t get many gigs.”

“Keith wrote a song about you, too,” Shiro told Lance. 

“Shiro!” Keith hissed.

Giving his bandmate a stern look, Shiro said, “Keith. I don’t know what you’re-”

“They were clearly spying on us at the Lionsheart!”

“Yeah, it is kind of suspicious,” Pidge added.

“We didn’t know who you were when we went there,” Ryan told them. “We thought you’d be another horrible set of musicians that we’d have to escape from.”

“Again,” Ina added.”

“Look,” said Allura. “There’s no point in arguing about it all just now. Let’s just let our music do the talking.”

A stagehand suddenly appeared, looked at both the bands, checked their clipboard and said, “MFE?”

“That’s us,” said James, quickly typing out another message.

“The piano’s ready now. They want you on stage. Have you got your instruments?”

Lance’s bandmates turned to hoist their instrument cases onto their backs. James plucked his drumsticks from his back pocket. Ryan was on the bass while Nadia would be playing the guitar. She helped Ina sling her case onto her shoulders as Ina had the biggest case; she would be playing the cello, her preferred instrument. Ready to go, they turned to head onto stage.

“You play the piano?” asked Keith, stopping Lance in his tracks.

Turning back to him, Lance could see that, despite his abrasiveness, Keith was still interested in him. Keith’s cheeks were red and he was focussed entirely on Lance. Grinning, Lance shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I do. Wish us luck - we’ve never played to so many people before.” And, as he stepped through the door to the backstage area, Lance blew Keith a kiss.