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“So, Keith,” Lance says, swirling a margarita in his glass because he feels fancy as fuck. “Let’s play a game.” Lance sinks into his armchair, placing his laptop on the coffee table.
He has to say, he’s feeling good. Ever since all that drama in August – talk about a summer romance – Lance has been taking it slow with Keith. This has been great for Keith, who seems to be really opening up to him, and it’s also actually been pretty nice for Lance if he’s being honest with himself. He’s had time to focus on his personal well-being, what with the job search and senior capstone going on, and it’s nice to have his level of energy being reciprocated. Keith may not have the same level of energy (period), but he’s sweet and is clearly trying to give back everything that Lance is giving to him. It’s just… nice.
And of course, since Lance will admit that his Thirst Game is strong with Hottie Boyfriend of the Year, he has been ratcheting up the sexual tension an inch at a time by sending spicy snaps. They’re taking it slow, so he’s not sexting. But he’s making efforts to use his suave voice, he calls it, and to let some skin show when he stretches or flexes his arms. He may not be a gym rat, but he takes care of himself, he likes to think. Keith may not notice yet, but there’s definitely sexual tension. Right? Anyway, Lance is feeling good.
Keith stares at him from the other side of the screen, nonplussed. It’s only about nine on a Friday night, but Lance wants to spend time with his boyfriend even if he’s on business in Vancouver. And Keith – who up until now, has been following Lance’s initiatives to get to know each other – was actually the one to suggest this, which Lance definitely takes as a good sign.
Keith’s hair is pillowed out on the sheets of his hotel room, and it looks like he recently showered. Lance kind of wants to bury his face in his shirt and inhale. And now that they’re ~boyfriends~ he tells him as much. Keith chuckles.
“Like what you see?” he asks. Lance groans.
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Also, you didn’t even ask what the game was? My rude-ass boyf already ignoring me,” Lance says with a dramatic sigh.
Keith rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So what are we playing?”
“Twenty questions.”
Keith blinks at him.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Come on, please!” Lance whines, pouting. Keith blinks at him again. Lance hasn’t found a look that works on Keith yet, but he’ll find one for sure. He’s positive.
“No, Lance,” Keith says. “Why can’t you just ask me about myself like a normal human being?”
“Babe, think about what you just asked for a moment,” Lance replies without hesitation, gesturing to himself.
“You’re right, I don’t know why I asked,” Keith says, taking a sip out of his wine bottle.
“Truth or dare.”
“What, are we actual children?”
“Two Truths and a Lie.”
“Are we at our first day of school?”
“Hey, that’s actually a good game!”
“Lance,” Keith says. “Just ask me about myself. If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll skip. But just tell me what you want to know, and I’ll try to answer. Feel free to ask for clarification, too. I uh, know I’m not the best at communicating. But I can try.” Keith starts fidgeting around on his covers before taking another swig from his bottle.
And there’s this Look in Keith’s eye that makes Lance’s heart just melt into a little puddle and spread out all over the inside of his ribcage. He’s so smitten.
“Okay,” Lance says, voice soft. “Um, so… what were you like back in college?”
Keith’s face falls and he stares into the distance. “Hmm, more or less the same as now?”
“Were you just as brooding and sulky?” Lance says teasingly. Keith smiles awkwardly.
“More so. I err, wore exclusively black-”
“You still almost wear exclusively black,” Lance points out.
“Almost. And they’re different shades of black now. Think like one shade of black, as dark as you can get without Vantablack or whatever. And also: black eyeliner.”
And hoo boy, that’s an image Lance absolutely cannot get out of his head. If Keith ever decides to let Lance doll him up a little, he’s pretty sure the result will turn him into an instant K.O. Lance will actually spontaneously combust.
“That’s pretty hot,” Lance says, taking a sip of his margarita. Keith rolls his eyes.
“No, it’s not. I got hit by two bicyclists and almost by a car because I didn’t have any reflective clothing and liked to go running at night.”
“You could’ve just bought a reflective jacket and worn it on your runs…”
“Yeah, well, apparently College Me was also a dumbass.”
“Just College You?”
“Shut up, Lance,” Keith growls, laughing. “What about you? I know you’re finishing up, but was freshman you the same?”
“No,” Lance says. “Believe it or not, I’ve actually toned a lot down.” Keith stares at him incredulously, but Lance just shrugs. “I mean, I was super hyperactive. But if I want Dean’s List every semester, that energy goes toward studying and then the extra gets burnt off pulling pra- I mean, exercising. And going to occasional parties. Yeah.”
“You were a hooligan, weren’t you?”
“Indubitably so, yes,” Lance admits sheepishly. “But come on, you can’t tell me it hasn’t cross your mind ONCE to automate a trolley and ride it down those sweet, sweet hallways. Plus you can test out your computer vision algorithm and see if it actually avoids the corner or if it maybe leaves a dent in the wall of your residence hall. You know, que será será and all that jazz.”
Keith stares at him. “I honestly haven’t. But Lance, wait – did you code that, too?”
Lance blinks at him. “Oh yeah, did I ever mention I have a CS minor? I’m done with my classes for it but it’s a fun side hobby. I focused more on hardware courses, but I also did a fair amount of programming in high school so I kinda just fuck around.”
“Lance, you mean to tell me that you’re a literal genius and you still actually worry about grades?” Keith says. He had to study his ass off to get good grades. He applied himself pretty well – labs were pretty easy for him, since he acted on good instinct, but he had to study 24/7 to keep a 3.6 in engineering management on top of his exercise and mechanic gig.
Lance looks baffled. “I’m not a genius. I’m just a nerd. Plus, everyone here’s also a nerd, at least in my classes, so I have to study a lot to stay afloat. And anyway, coding’s not that hard once you get the hang of it. I use it for star tracking and stuff; I can write out a couple scripts in less than a day to pull sensor data. Not my proudest achievement – it should’ve taken like two hours max but whatever.”
“Hmm.” There’s a pause, and Lance starts to fidget. Keith notes that Lance seems to interpret silence as disapproval, so he opens his mouth to say something (anything, really; he didn’t think that far ahead) but then lance beats him to the punch.
“Anyway, Keith – what else did you do in college? Besides sulk and do night runs in black clothes.”
“Uh,” Keith replies eloquently, trying to remember what on earth he did. College was fine, he thought, but he thinks of how vibrant Lance is – of Hunk, Pidge, Shay – of how Lance has so much life, how he can do so many things. He’s heard Lance sing before, too – his voice is really nice (and actually really sexy, but Keith will carry this observation with him to the grave before he tells Lance) – and he knows he can dance. Keith, on the other hand, never really had friends. And besides exercise a lot and then maybe help some guys fix their cars at a local garage, he doesn’t think he really did anything. Anything cool, that is. He got involved with a couple of drug dealers and that got messy, but Shiro kind of bailed him out before irreparable damage was done. (And maybe he kind of has a scar from it, but he tells people it was a skateboarding accident. And conveniently leaves out that the other guy – who attacked him first, by the way – hobbled away in deplorable condition.) He lowkey feels like a loser.
Keith takes another drink from his bottle and realizes it’s half empty. And with a startling realization, he knows he’s about half a cup more away from reaching that “emotional drunk” stage and spilling his guts.
But Lance is looking at him all cute and soft, head tilted to the side, fluffy hoodie engulfing his arms. And he’s smart and athletic and everything Keith’s not, so he decides “fuck it, yolo” and drinks more from the bottle. But when he resurfaces, Lance is looking at him with startled eyes.
“Hey, you okay, buddy? You look like you just tried to drown yourself in Merlot. Am I that bad of a date?” he asks, chuckling nervously. Keith shakes his head aggressively, making Lance laugh. He lets Lance talk a little more about his life in college – he did some dancing on the side, not competitively but just for fun and fitness – before Lance decides to repeat his earlier question.
Keith’s not at the “slurring words” point, but he definitely has lost his filter.
“Honestly, I was a piece of shit.”
“Keith?” Lance asks.
“I mean, I’m not really proud of myself. I did creative writing, I guess,” he says. Lance brightens up.
“Oh, that’s awesome! Is that what got you into technical writing?” he asks. Keith shrugs.
“That and connections, I guess. Engineering management is great, but I’ve been told I’m not exactly a team player so while I have leadership potential, I need to shape up before working on industry projects.”
“Oh,” Lance says.
“I did a lot of poetry. And for some reason, I suck at words when I’m trying to talk to people, but on paper it always seems easier. I’m told that I’m really straightforward and concise, so my articles are ‘both technically astute’ and ‘easy to digest’ so I guess that’s neat.”
“Yay!” Lance says happily, finishing off his drink. “That’s something to be plenty proud of!”
“Nah. I also got involved with drugs.”
Lance looks really concerned. “Like… weed?”
“No,” Keith begrudgingly admits. “I was a freshman, and these upperclassmen kinda just showed me some stuff and I became their friend. We’d do shit like go to the junkyard and light things on fire. I think I lucked out, since they kinda wanted to baby me, before Shiro helped me get out of it. Shiro thinks they were grooming me to do the real illegal shit after. But the scar you see on my jawline,” Keith says as he lifts part of his bangs, which cover a nasty-looking scar right under his jawline by his ear. Lance gasps. “Yeah, that’s from that. The other guy walked away worse, though.”
There’s a breath of awkward silence.
“Ah fuck, I’m sorry. I should’ve stopped talking. You can back out of this now, I get it if it’s uncomfortable-”
Lance cuts him off with a hand. “Keith, we are not always who we were. And from the sounds of it, they took advantage of you. Relax. You were safe after, right? And there’s no more drugs?”
Keith visibly relaxes, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Yeah, of course. Shiro is uh, compelling. At the time, he was also still in the military and he may seem like a big teddy bear but remember; he’s excellent at combat and both of us trained at the same dojo for years. He uh, thoroughly rattled them.”
And Lance realizes for the first time that maybe Shiro’s about two billion percent more terrifying than he seems.
“Anyway, after that, I never really made any friends, I guess? I mean, any of my own, that is. I kinda was just that ‘emo guy who maybe has shady connections’ in the corner. Helped me stay focused,” Keith says, looking down at his hand where it’s lying limp next to the night stand with his tablet. Lance makes a soft sound.
“Were you lonely?” he asks. Keith feels tears start to sting behind his eyes and this is precisely why he’s not a big drinker.
“Sometimes,” he whispers. “I’ve always kinda just… pushed people aside. I’m so used to people leaving me that I just don’t get close to others. Maybe it’s because my parents left me that I just can’t get over myself.”
“Keith,” Lance breathes out. “Honey, you can’t blame yourself for that. For any of that.”
“Sometimes I just used to think that I’m a waste of space. Maybe if I were gone, it would’ve been easier on Shiro, who had a lot going on, too.”
“Keith, please,” Lance says. “I know that-”
“Let me finish,” Keith says. “I don’t need fucking pity. My filter is down. I’m aware of this; I just can’t stop talking. So, just let me give some context. Lotor – you met him – is Shiro’s ex. He, Matt, and Shiro were in the same unit in the military. Lotor and Shiro kinda got together by happen-stance, but Lotor – his family holds an elevated status in the Czech Republic – he tried to ditch his service when they were starting to dispatch people to the frontlines. He shoved Shiro under the bus – a lot of it for stuff he himself did, and framed Matt, too. He tried to get them sent off before him and did part of that by seducing a couple higher-ups.”
“That’s awful.”
“You bet it was. One of the battles shot Shiro’s arm off. He still suffers from PTSD. Did he ever tell you that? It doesn’t make itself particularly apparent most of the time, especially for people who don’t know him. But he always tries to be the omniscient, reliable big brother so he never really likes to admit it. We see the same therapist, though when we go for my sessions he kinda pretends he doesn’t know him or that he has his own session later. He can’t hide everything from me no matter how hard he tries, though; we fucking live together. He gets a lot of nightmares and sometimes he just zones out. I know when he’s having intrusive thoughts because he does this little thing where he just stops what he’s doing and clenches his fists. So as much as a piece of shit I am, it’s my turn to take care of Shiro. And now that Allura is a part of his life, he’s been doing much better. She’s gotten him to open up a lot.”
“Hmm, Allura is really important to both of you, huh?” Lance says, thoughtfully.
“Yeah. In a lot of ways she saved both of us, and I would actually literally die for her without hesitation.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Thanks,” Keith returns awkwardly. Another awkward moment of silence. God, Keith just shouldn’t talk.
“So, who are some other people we both know? Pidge and Matt seem to know you, but I don’t know that story. Anybody else?”
Keith thinks about it.
“Well, Matt was in the military with Shiro. He was deployed to another mission and was actually MIA before being discharged after a leg injury. Also, his eyesight got worse so they kinda just… let him go. I’d met him a couple times when I visited Shiro at the Garrison. After Matt left and Shiro came back – this was about the time I graduated, I think – I met Pidge, since the Holts were having a little party for Shiro’s and Matt’s return. Matt and I work for the same magazine now, too, so we see each other at work a lot. Other than them, though, I don’t really know of any mutual acquaintances.”
“That’s fair.”
“In college I was withdrawn, but I also helped at a garage – it paid decently – so I guess I knew some guys there. But I didn’t talk to people and I was a bit of a muscle pig so I just kinda did my daily business.”
“Oh, that’s neat!”
Keith snorts. “They’re dorks but they were cool.”
“Do you talk to them now?”
“Nah, but we were on good terms, so I’m not upset about it or anything. Before I forget – I also did a lot of photography. Mostly for hobby, but I made a portfolio and put photos on Instagram.”
Lance lets some of his hoodie slide of his shoulder. “So, if I asked for a sexy photo shoot…”
Keith watches Lance’s shoulder with confusion. “Um, I guess we could do one? I don’t do a lot of human photography, at least posed. I do candids and a ton of landscape ones, like of deserts.”
Lance pulls his sweater back up. There goes a sexy call. “Um, what do you do now? Do you still do photography?”
“Yeah, sometimes. But nowadays I mostly exercise, watch TV and talk to my adorable boyfriend when I’m not at work.”
Lance pauses, turning beet-red.
“Keith, did you call me adorable?”
“Ah, fuck,” Keith says, brows furrowing as he turns to face away from the tablet. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“No, Keith, come back! Tell me more about what you do. What’s your gym routine? What TV shows do you watch?”
Keith turns back slowly. “Um, my routine is involved. Do you really wanna hear it?”
Lance thinks about this for a moment.
“Yeah on second thought, just tell me about TV.”
Keith starts to zone out.
“Keith? You alr-”
“It’s embarrassing,” Keith says, burying his face into his pillow. He’s so cute.
“Keith, I’m sure it’s fine,” Lance says.
“Um…” Keith starts. “I really like watching cryptid documentaries.”
“Cryptid documentaries?” Lance says, laughter starting to break loose. Keith frowns.
“See, you’re laughing at me. It’s embarrassing.”
“I’m just imagining you with those big conspiracy corkboards covered in red string,” Lance says, settling for a light chuckle even though he kind of wants to roll on the floor laughing. Keith frowns again, fidgeting. “Wait, Keith, do you actually have one?”
“It was a normal corkboard!” Keith defends quickly. “It was supposed to be for college, and I used it for notes and shit back then. But since then it’s been so empty, and I keep my photos in one of those digital frames so I just kinda printed out what I’ve learned from the documentaries and put them in groups, but I do NOT use red string- hey, stop laughing at me!”
Lance is howling. “Keith, that’s so fucking cute. What on earth?”
Keith pouts. “’m not cute. You’re cute.”
Lance winks. “I know. Glad you can recognize it.”
“Never mind, I take it back. You ugly.”
Lance gasps. “No takesies-backsies!”
“Too late, I already did. U-G-L-Y, you ain’t got no alibi. You ugly!” Keith sing-songs, voice carrying forward. Lance gives him an incredulous look.
“Doth mine ears detect a SINGING Keith?” he asks as dramatically as possible, cupping his ear toward his laptop. Keith shakes his head vehemently.
“No, no they don’t!” he shouts. “And no one can prove it!”
Lance simply hums. “Whatever you say, Keithifer.”
“Also – you couldn’t even get Red to snitch on me, even if Pidge could make an animal translator.”
“Red? Your cat, right?” Lance asks. Keith nods vigorously.
“I love her. So much. She’s the best,” he says, looking off into the distance. “We found her when she was a tiny kitten, and she kept following me, so there was no way I could just leave her on the street.”
“That’s sweet,” Lance says, swooning inside. “Pets are kind of like small children, right?”
Keith nods. “Except I’m really awkward around kids.”
“At the wedding, Korra and Bolin seemed to really like you, though?” Lance says, perplexed. “Dare I say – they love you?”
Keith shrugs. “I don’t get it. Apparently, kids love me, so I’m told. I keep getting asked to babysit for my coworkers. I beg to differ – I think they know they can eat candy and junk food when I’m in charge, so it’s probably that.”
Lance thinks of the delight in Keith’s eyes when he saw the munchkins at the wedding, and how they latched onto him so quickly. That’s not the look of kids who are just bribed with candy. But Lance lets it go.
“I love kids,” Lance says instead. “They’re the best. I have three siblings and lots of cousins, and I like doting on them.”
“Hmm,” Keith says, expression unreadable.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Are you thinking of having kids one day?” Keith asks, looking at him thoughtfully. Lance blushes.
“Keith, so bold,” he coos, waving his hand at the screen. “Asking about kids three months into our relationship already?”
Keith flushes.
“Forget it, let’s talk about something else.”
“Keith, Keith, it’s fine,” Lance says with a chuckle. “To answer your question: yes. I’d love to. I really want two or three kids, maybe four if we- I can handle it. You?”
Keith doesn’t quite make eye contact, but he flushes again.
“Depends on who I’m with. I certainly wouldn’t adopt any on my own, but if I’m with the right person, I could be a father. I do like kids, even if they kinda make me want to tear out my hair sometimes. I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it too hard right now.”
There’s a moment of silence. Are they moving too fast? Lance starts fretting. Keith looks like he’s gonna have an aneurysm.
“So Keith, speaking of family, can you tell about yours?” Lance and Keith make startlingly intense eye contact. Keith looks like he might be upset – Lance isn’t quite yet good at reading him – so Lance changes the subject. “Sorry, let’s… um…”
“No, Lance, it’s fine,” Keith says, sounding tired. “Shiro is my brother in spirit, I guess. By blood he’s my cousin. My dad and his mother, my Aunt Sadie, are siblings. That’s most of it. I mean, there’s grandparents on Shiro’s side. Most of my family is essentially Shiro’s family. The exception is my mom – but she doesn’t really have many relatives we know about at the moment. She left her household when she was eighteen to be a resistance fighter and did a lot of combat stuff before she retired when she met my dad. She’s really smart, though. She was also a pilot but did translation work on the side.”
Lance nods in interest. “What did she translate?”
Keith blinks. “Oh, Czech and Korean into English.” That was not what Lance expected. “You probably already knew I’m Japanese by blood – because of Shiro and my dad’s side. But my mom was born in the Czech Republic. Her mom is Czech, and her dad is Korean. So, she was fluent in both. She learned Czech in school and spoke Korean with her dad, but she and her family moved to the States when she was eight. She’s been speaking English for years.”
“Do you speak any of those?” Lance asks. “You know I speak Spanish fluently – I was born in Cuba – but besides that and English, obviously, I don’t speak anything else.”
Keith answers with a cute, waving hand gesture. “Eh, I guess. Depends on what you define as ‘speak.’ Basically all of Shiro’s side of the family, plus our grandparents on Aunt Sadie’s side, speak Japanese. Therefore, I can hold a conversation, but not much beyond that. I can read it, though; I took Japanese lessons throughout middle and high school. VOLTron has Japanese editions, so sometimes I’m asked to translate my articles. My dad learned Czech on the side, funnily enough, so he tried to speak that to me a little when my mom wasn’t around, and my mom spoke to me in Korean when he wasn’t around. But I don’t remember all that much. I understand bits and pieces of Czech but can’t speak it. And I can speak very, very basic Korean but can’t read Hangul. If it’s Hanja there’s overlap with Kanji, so I guess I can ‘read’ it, but it feels like a cheap victory.”
“Keith!” Lance exclaims. “That’s amazing!”
Keith shrugs. Lance notes that he’s really awkward at receiving compliments. His heart is melting, he swears.
“Tell me about your family.”
Lance sighs, giving him a little grin.
“Okay, so I’m gonna give the ‘tldr’ version, since we’ll be sitting here for days if I get into all my cousins and tíos and tías and grandparents and the extended fam back in Cuba. At home in New York, it’s my parents and me, Marco, Luis, and Veronica. I love them so much. We have jam sessions whenever I go home. I sing, because I’m fabulous. Marco plays the guitar, Luis plays the tambourine, and Veronica plays the piano. She plays a lot of ragtime? Like the weirdo she is. But I love her especially. She’s a precious bean. Marco sings really well, too. He sings a lot at church but he’s too shy otherwise. And Luis kinda pressures him into it, but he joins in for moral support even if he has no singing talent whatsoever.” Lance can’t help but smile as he talks about them, and something in Keith falls in love a little bit. “Honestly, I’m so blessed to have all of them as my siblings.”
“Lance,” Keith asks, brain catching up to one detail. “Are you Christian?”
Lance smiles. “Yeah. Technically Catholic, but I don’t think God cares so much about the name we ascribe to it as long as we live like good people. You?”
Keith looks at him. “I’m telling you this because I think it’s best to understand our religious differences from the beginning. I’m an atheist.”
Lance frowns at him.
“Does that bother you?”
Lance hums.
“No,” he says, voice breaking. Keith raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, so maybe it bothers me a little. But not for the reason you probably think; I think God is kind and forgiving. I don’t think that He’d be pissed off if you don’t know He’s real, you know? But I had bad experiences with people I knew to be atheists. I used to get bullied in elementary school.”
“Lance,” Keith starts.
“No, it’s okay. Well, not ‘permissible’ okay. But okay in that it’s over now. I couldn’t speak English particularly great when I moved here. Like, at all, really? But I always wore this little beaded rosary to school. And one day someone stole it? I found it broken in the trash, which was really sucky because my abuelita made it for me. She made me another and sent it for my birthday, but since then I’ve kept it hidden. Oh, wait! I want to show it to you, Keith. It’s really cute!”
Lance digs around in the nightstand behind him and pulls out a small, wooden rosary with colorful beads on it. It’s very beautiful, very becoming of Lance.
“It’s pretty, Lance,” Keith says. Lance gives him a toothy grin.
“Isn’t it? I love her a lot. And Keith,” Lance says as he looks at him. “I know we’re not super, super close yet. We’re gonna take this slow. But I trust you. And I trust that you’ll respect that my religion is a large part of my identity.”
“Of course, Lance,” Keith says earnestly. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
Lance looks at him with a sparkle in his eye. “I appreciate that.”
Keith and Lance start talking about what their weeks are going to look like and before they know it, it’s 12:30 in the morning. Keith has passed out, slurring his words toward the end there. Lance smiles, admiring his profile – even if, to the average (unsophisticated, Lance would argue) eye, it’s at a very unflattering angle.
“Keith,” Lance whispers before disconnecting his laptop. “I really, really like you.”
(He doesn’t hear Keith’s “I really like you, too” murmured out into the open air.)