beat drop [klance au] REWRITTEN

7. getting ready

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Keith had never been to a fair before. He happened upon the idea of taking Lance to it when, earlier that week, a group of teenagers had stopped inside AA&F and asked him if they could hang up a flyer for the fair on the bulletin board just inside the doorway of the shop. Usually, the board was covered in other flyers for guitar lessons, shitty cars, and lost dogs, so Keith agreed. After the teens had left, he'd taken a closer look.

Celebrating 50 Years of Tradition!

XXX's 50th Annual County Fair

Saturday, June XX - Sunday, June XX

9:00am-11:00pm (both days)

XX Fairgrounds, XX, WA

Keith's eyes had widened at the bright colors and fonts on the flyer. A fair? The smell of cotton candy and fried dough coupled with images of Lance's dark blue eyes flashing with neon lights flashed through Keith's head. He paused, trying to think rationally for a moment. He didn't have a weak stomach, but he could say with certainty that he'd never felt the need to experience any of those crazy, spinning carnival rides. Would he be okay going on them with Lance?

Shaking his head, Keith dislodged the fear- it was nearly the weekend and he still hadn't come up with a date plan for Lance and him, so if he had to sit through a few minutes on some stomach-lurching rides, it was worth it if he was on a date with Lance. 

Pulling out his phone, Keith had called Lance on the spot. The dancer, of course, agreed.

Now, as Keith slipped on his shoes by Hunk's front door, he was starting to feel anxiety creeping up on him. He'd told Lance that he'd be leaving his apartment by 8, which gave him (he checked his watch- 5:58 pm) 2 hours to get ready. Keith steeled himself as he stepped out of Hunk's house, smiling slightly as he heard Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk erupt in giddy laughter from the basement. He felt bad leaving practice earlier than his friends, but reminded himself that 1) they would kill him if they found out he'd missed an opportunity to go on a date (let alone with Lance) and 2) the only thing they'd been doing for the past hour was play Just Dance and see who could find the weirdest sounds on Pidge's synth. 

Keith tapped the toes of his shoes against the floor to set his toes forward in the soles, then walked outside and mounted his motorcycle, which was waiting for him in the driveway. Along with his bike, there was Hunk's pick-up truck, Shiro's olive Subaru Outback, and Pidge's electric Hyundai. Keith thoughts that the vehicles definitely suited their owners, then wondered what that said about him. Shrugging, he turned off Hunk's street and headed home, a coastal 10 minutes with fortunately good weather. It was a good night for a date.

As soon as he got to his apartment, he showered, scrubbing every inch of his body with a sudsy loofah, aggressively dried his hair, praying to god that his dark locks would cooperate (they hardly ever did but it was worth a try), and picked out an outfit.

Keith didn't love that he was now focusing on his clothes more than ever- he missed the days where he just threw on whatever he saw first, not caring if it matched or made his ass look good. Now, he carefully pulled on black ripped jeans, a leather belt, and a red sweatshirt over a black turtleneck. For shoes, he ditched his trusty Vans (of which he had 4 pairs, maybe 5 if he could ever find those blue checkered ones that he'd lost a few months ago...) for his white Nike Air Forces, which conveniently granted him another inch to his 5'10" frame. 

He also decided that, for Lance's sake, he would "accessorize", though he admitted to himself that he didn't really know what that meant. Eventually, he settled on a belt chain- two delicate silver sets of links that rested against his upper thigh- and a beanie for comfort (and also because his hair was definitely not cooperating). He glanced at the pile of makeup in one of the drawers in his bathroom and hesitated.