[ WEDNESDAY ]
Group Chat: "Family BBQ - Today's Menu: Roasted Lance"
uptown hunk: can you guys please stop yelling?
uptown hunk: it was funny the first couple times but it's getting old real fast
coo coo motherfuckers: seriously we can barely hear our own music
coo coo motherfuckers: if you don't stop I'm cutting off your music altogether
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Ah yes, speaking of that, Pidge, Hunk, I've been meaning to speak with you about tampering with studio wiring and equipment
coo coo motherfuckers: I plead the fifth
uptown hunk: -innocent whistling-
Need-A-Hand: To Hunk and Pidge's original point, I agree
LLunarGoddess: we can hear you two all the way on the second floor
Need-A-Hand: Don't make us come up there
coo coo motherfuckers: oooo dad on a mission
uptown hunk: does that make allura mom?
vive la lance: pidge!
coo coo motherfuckers: what'd I do?
vive la lance: can you PLEASE tell KEITH that he can TRUST ME to flip him?
coo coo motherfuckers: keith
coo coo motherfuckers: you most definitely cannot trust lance to flip you
vive la lance: PIDGE!
last resort: thank you pidge
coo coo motherfuckers: anytime man
vive la lance: pidge I can't believe you
vive la lance: beTRAYAL
coo coo motherfuckers: I call em like I see em
vive la lance: rUDE
vive la lance: I am totally trust worthy
uptown hunk: they have a point dude
vive la lance: hunk! D:
uptown hunk: you've never really practiced flips before
uptown hunk: auditions are in less than a week
uptown hunk: I can't, in good conscious, recommend it
coo coo motherfuckers: plus you have noodle arms
vive la lance: I do nOT!
vive la lance: I CAN DO HANDSTANDS!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Lance has a point, that takes quite a bit of strength to hold one's body weight steady
uptown hunk: yeah but it's different throwing around someone else's weight
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Also a very good point
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Not to mention the point of Lance's pasta arms
vive la lance: I DO NOT HAVE NOODLE ARMS
Need-A-Hand: Debatable
Need-A-Hand: How do we define "noodle arms"?
coo coo motherfuckers: skinny little sticks with skin
coo coo motherfuckers: that kinda flail and wobble around a lot
LLunarGoddess: that sounds an awful lot like Lance
vive la lance: babe I can lift
vive la lance: Ill bench press you any day
LLunarGoddess: is that so?
coo coo motherfuckers: HA
uptown hunk: HA
Need-A-Hand: Hahaha
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: That's an amusing sentiment, Lance
vive la lance: why is no one ever on my side?
last resort: we don't like siding with the losing side
vive la lance: excUSE??
last resort: she will destroy you
vive la lance: oh yeah? and how would YOU know?
Need-A-Hand: She beat him in a plank off last week
last resort: SHE CHEATED
LLunarGoddess: B) if you can't take the heat, get out of the gym
LLunarGoddess: I won fair and square
last resort: you cheated and you know it
LLunarGoddess: and how did I cheat, Keith? hmmm? :)
Need-A-Hand: Yes, Keith, why don't you share with the class
last resort: no
last resort: fuck off
vive la lance: I bet she won cause keith sucks
vive la lance: do you even lift bro?
last resort: yes
vive la lance: oh
uptown hunk: not to distract or anything, but I'd like to bring us back around to the fact that lance should not attempt to flip keith
uptown hunk: like, I'm actually kind of worried that he's going to try
uptown hunk: and you should definitely not do that lance
Need-A-Hand: I agree, it's too late to throw something like that into the mix
Need-A-Hand: Maybe next time
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Please do not bleed on the dance room floors, I just had them polished
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: New studio policy: you bleed, you clean it up. No exceptions or excuses
vive la lance: why does no one believe in me??
coo coo motherfuckers: must we return to "noodle arms"?
coo coo motherfuckers: plus keith is a fatty
last resort: rude
Need-A-Hand: He was the pudgiest little kid
last resort: SHIRO
coo coo motherfuckers: yeah I remember those days
coo coo motherfuckers: little baby pudgy keith with bad skin and chubby cheeks and hair a brush couldn't tame
last resort: fuck off
LLunarGoddess: awww he sounds so cute :)
LLunarGoddess: I want pictures
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Seconded
last resort: no
last resort: lance wants you all to know that he's doing handstands to prove his strength
coo coo motherfuckers: knock him over
uptown hunk: knock him over
Need-A-Hand: Keith, don't knock him over
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Please don't injure him, he'll mope for weeks if he misses another round of auditions
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: There's only so much wallowing my office can take
vive la lance: KEITH KNOCKED ME OVER!
coo coo motherfuckers: nice
uptown hunk: called it
Need-A-Hand: sigh
vive la lance: ALSO I'M WITH ALLURA
vive la lance: I WANT TO SEE PICTURES OF CHUBBY CHILD KEITH
vive la lance: GIMME THE BLACKMAIL
Need-A-Hand: I most definitely have pictures :)
vive la lance: SHIRO
vive la lance: MY DUDE
vive la lance: HOOK ME UP
Need-A-Hand: Sure thing
last resort: shiro
last resort: think about what you're doing
Need-A-Hand: I am
Need-A-Hand: I'm thinking about how it's my brotherly duty to embarrass you
last resort: this road goes both ways
last resort: I can get pictures too
Need-A-Hand: ...
Need-A-Hand: I see your point
vive la lance: goddammit
LLunarGoddess: Keith
LLunarGoddess: I humbly request teenage Shiro pictures
vive la lance: hell fucking yeah me too
vive la lance: keith told me he had terrible acne and BRACES and a boWL CUT
LLunarGoddess: oh my god
LLunarGoddess: please, Keith, I need to see this
LLunarGoddess: it's of the upmost importance
Need-A-Hand: Keith
Need-A-Hand: Why does Lance know this?
last resort: we were bonding
last resort: we had a moment
Need-A-Hand: by talking about how I looked in high school?
vive la lance: damn right
vive la lance: and now I want pictures
LLunarGoddess: same!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Seconded!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Thirded?
uptown hunk: fourthed!
coo coo motherfuckers: oh man those were the good old days
coo coo motherfuckers: I probably have a few pictures around too
coo coo motherfuckers: I can deff find them on matt's computer
Need-A-Hand: Shouldn't you all be practicing?
uptown hunk: ummm yes, I'd just like to point out that yes, we should
uptown hunk: auditions are in a couple of days
uptown hunk: and our practice hour is already halfway over
coo coo motherfuckers: ugh fiiiiine
vive la lance: NO FUN ZONE >:(
last resort: lance shut up and put your phone away
vive la lance: make me mullet
vive la lance: a;dlfkjadls;kfjawoei
uptown hunk: uuuuhhhhmmmm
Need-A-Hand: Do you think he did it?
coo coo motherfuckers: definitely, we heard lance's screams
LLunarGoddess: Shiro we should get back to practice too :)
coo coo motherfuckers: yeah shiro, mom is calling for you
Need-A-Hand: Leaving
coo coo motherfuckers: lol
uptown hunk: awww
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Good luck, everyone!
---------------------------------------------------------------------
[ THURSDAY ]
The gym is Keith's only safe haven. It's where he goes to think. It's where he goes to be alone. It's where he goes to get away from everything. When he's here, he can get in his own head. Take a moment to think about what makes him tick. Work through his problems while his body engages in mindless activity.
It's refreshing.
It's rejuvenating.
It's relaxing.
And other than occasionally when Shiro and Allura hang out around him, he's usually left alone to do his own thing.
He can just... be himself. No worries. No anxieties. He doesn't have to think about auditions. He doesn't have to think about how him and Lance still have so much work to do, how they're still rocky with choreography. He doesn't have to think about how frustrating it is to work with Lance. He doesn't have to think about Lance, and his stupid smiles and cocky, flippant attitude.
He doesn't have to think about Hunk, and how the big guy is so earnest and pure and quite easily the most genuine human being he's ever met.
He doesn't have to think about Pidge, and how he hasn't realized how much he missed having them in his life and how grateful he is to have a second chance at being close again.
He doesn't have to think about Allura, who's becoming less like just his brother's dance partner and not-quite girlfriend and casual acquaintance, and more like her own person and friend in Keith's life.
He doesn't have to think about Coran, and how the man he's always just seen as just a dance instructor and Allura's brother-friend-thing is slowly becoming more like that weird exotic uncle friend that hangs around because he honestly likes everyone and everyone honestly likes him.
He doesn't have to think about Shiro, and how seeing his brother interact with his friends is making him see a whole new dimension to his brother that makes them feel closer than ever.
Here at the gym, he doesn't have to think about how he's never considered himself to be someone who had or even needed a lot of friends. He's always been fine with just him and Pidge and Shiro. Hell, he even considered Matt a friend at some point. He's never needed more than them. And when they started to grow apart, he had accepted it and hadn't felt the need to fill the void. He was fine like this. He had always been fine without constant companionship.
And yet now he finds himself thrust into a group of friends that he never asked to be part of, but who are, for some reason, determined to keep him around.
And the strangest part? He actually... kind of likes it. He likes them. They're all quirky and fun and just... good people.
And all because he had made the decision to try out for regionals with Lance. Lance with his too loud laugh. Lance with his infuriating smirks. Lance with his irritatingly persistent competitive nature. Lance with his dramatic flair he puts into everything. Lance and the way he fights back against all of Keith's instruction, the way he complains and whines whenever Keith corrects him, the way he really does listen and try despite all of his protests. Lance and the way he actually makes a point to include Keith like it's only natural to do so. Lance and the way he—
But Keith isn't going to think about Lance right now. Him and the rest of the group have been on his mind way too much lately. He's still a little floored that they've all been so ready and willing to accept him, how he just kind of slipped into their lives seamlessly and they've barely had to think about accepting it.
He's not thinking about any of those things, or about any of those people, because thinking about them never fails to make his chest tight with a chaos of emotions that are new and blinding and he doesn't think he's properly equipped to deal.
Just for a couple hours, he's going to let his mind rest, block out all those emotions wordlessly screaming, ignore all the thoughts that are too loud.
In here, in this gym, the real world can't touch him as long as he's within these walls.
That is, until the real world comes crashing through the doors to shatter his peace of mind in the form of Lance Mc-fucking-Clain.
"What's up, Hulk Hogan!"
A hand comes down on his shoulder, and Keith jumps, slamming his locker shut with a little too much force. He whips his head around, scowling at Lance's grinning face.
He raises an unamused eyebrow, frown firmly in place. "Hulk Hogan? Really?"
Lance chuckles, shrugging with one shoulder as he steps away, opening a locker a couple down from Keith's. "I just thought, you know, gym, wrestler, kind of the same thing, right?"
"Does it really count as a mullet if he's balding?"
"Oh yeah, definitely still counts. Even if it's an unfortunately coincidence. Though I doubt it. He was around in the time when mullets were all the rage." He tosses his bag into the locker before balancing on one foot, lifting the other to pull at his shoelaces.
Now that the shock of seeing Lance here of all places has dulled somewhat, Keith takes a moment to actually take him in. He's got on sneakers, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, but that's not what draws his attention. He's wearing shorts, which honestly isn't too surprising, because it's a gym, hell even Keith is wearing shorts. But his shorts are skin tight, cut off above his knee, and are black with a couple sweeps of blue. What the actual fuck? Why is he wearing like... legging shorts? They show off the leanness of his thighs and draw attention to his toned calves. Jesus, his legs are shaved?
"Something wrong, champ?" Lance says, snapping him out of it his stare fest with Lance's legs.
Keith rips his eyes up to Lance's, which aren't that far, to be fair. He's bending over to untie his shoes. His scowl is back in full force, and he holds it firmly in an attempt to fight off the warmth he can feel creeping up his neck. "What're you doing here?"
He pauses, blinks, and then a small smirk starts to curl his lips. "Well, currently I'm untying my shoes—"
"Lance." Keith says flatly, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose while his other arm wraps around his middle. He closes his eyes briefly. "You know what I mean."
He snickers. "Sorry, dude, couldn't resist."
"Seriously, though." Keith lets his hand drop, opening his eyes. Lance has gotten one shoe off, tossing it in his locker before peeling off his sock as well. Then he's onto the other foot. "What are you doing here? I've never seen you here, and honestly, you don't seem like the gym type."
Lance pauses, looking up to narrow his eyes suspiciously. His lips purse into the tiniest of frowns. "This conversation sounds strangely familiar." Keith holds his gaze and raises one eyebrow, unable to hide the quirk of his lips at Lance's comical impression of scrutiny. Lance points at him, narrowing his eyes. "You, sir, need to stop underestimating me." He says, trying to be serious but unable to hide his smile. Instead, he ducks his head and pulls off his other shoe, throwing it, and his sock, in his locker. When he stands back up, he rests his hands on his hips. "Besides, there's a lot you don't know about me."
"Like the fact that you shave your legs." Keith says, trying to keep his tone conversational as he gestures to Lance's calves. Fuck, he's not sure why he said that. He just can't stop looking and thinking about it because what the fuck, Lance? So might as well draw attention to it so he has a reason to stare, right? Yeah, great thinking, Keith. Draw attention to the fact that you're gawking at him like you've never seen legs before, great idea.
Lance seems surprised at first, smile fading as he blinks in confusion. Then he looks down, like he's seeing his legs for the first time. He even wiggles his toes. Jesus. Then he's looking up, head tilted to the side and grinning sheepishly. He lifts a hand to scratch at his cheek. "Yeaaaah, I started doing that when I swam back in high school. We didn't need to, and I don't think it like, does anything, but the whole team did it on a dare once before a swim meet, and I kinda liked it, so I kept it going."
Keith doesn't know what to say to that, honestly. So he made a noncommittal grunt and somehow manages to tear his eyes from Lance's legs and back to his face. "I didn't know you swam."
"Like I said, there's a lot you don't know about me." He says with a wink. Keith purses his lips tighter, holding his face as impassive as he can. When he doesn't get a response, Lance coughs, scratching the back of his neck. "Anyway, that's why I'm here. I mentioned that I missed swimming a while ago, and Allura said this place has a nice pool. So I thought I'd come check it out."
Ah. So that explains the shorts. Swimsuit. He should have known.
And then Lance is reaching for the hem of his shirt, and Keith spins around on his heel. Nope. He's having none of that.
"Right." Keith's already walking away, uncoiling his headphones and putting one in his ear. "Good luck with that."
"What're you going to do?" He hears Lance call out behind him.
He doesn't turn around. Instead he shrugs, waving an arm vaguely. "The usual stuff."
"Alright, well, see you later then, I guess."
"Later."
Now if this really were the usual stuff, Keith probably would have gone straight to the indoor track. Probably. He usually did. But when he reaches the top of the stairs, he finds himself turning left instead of right. And somehow, without thinking about it, he ends up in the weight room.
And he's about eighty-five percent sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the weight room has a glass wall that looks down over the pool.
Okay, maybe seventy percent sure it has nothing to do with that.
Sixty?
Forty-Five.
He's curious, alright? Sue him. He just learned the pain in his ass, his not-really rival, his dance partner, and kind of his new friend swims, and he's curious about it. Keith can't swim for the life of him. Plus, if he knows Lance and Allura like he's pretty sure he does, they'll end up in some sort of race. And he's all for seeing Allura kick Lance's ass.
He honestly should have expected to see Shiro there. He's hard to miss. A lot of the dudes hanging around the weight room are big, but his brother isn't just big, he's... strong. In presence as well as body. There's just something about him that makes people take notice, and he's pretty sure it would be that way even if he didn't have a tuff of white hair and a prothetic arm. He's standing on the other side of the room, a couple of dumbbells in his hands. He's lifting them, but it seems halfhearted.
A small smirk tugging at his lips, Keith slips across the weight room, sidling up to his brother's side. "Enjoying the view?"
Shiro jumps, dropping both weights in his surprise. They both spring back to avoid getting their toes crushed. There's hiss from the attendant across the room about dropping weights, and Shiro lifts a hand, muttering an apology. A heavy blush spreading quickly across his cheeks. Keith just grins, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Keith," He says flatly, almost like a warning but also filled with a deep kind of exasperation that can only come from knowing someone for years.
"What's up, bro?"
"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, running?"
"Am I not allowed to come see my dearest older brother?" Shiro just glares at him, crossing his arms over his chest to mirror Keith's posture. He doesn't bother picking the weights up again. "What were you looking at?" He asks, putting that innocent edge to his voice. He turns, taking a step toward the window wall. "Ah, yup, that'll do it."
Just as he expected: Allura is sitting by the pool side, her hands behind her as she leans back and her legs idly kicking in the water. She's wearing a one piece swimsuit, white and blue and pink. Her hair is somehow wrangled back into a tight bun that sits close to her head, even as several curl strands fall down to frame her face.
As Keith turns to look at his brother, his grin can only be described as "shit eating".
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"You know what."
"Enlighten me."
"I know exactly what you were going to say." Shiro lifts his chin a fraction, glaring down his nose at Keith. He admits, it's probably a pretty intimidating pose. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't work on Keith. Not when Keith has known him long enough to see how flustered he is underneath it all. "Don't."
Keith tilts his head to the side. "What was I going to say exactly?"
"Well..." Shiro's demeanor cracks. He tilts his head back, away from Keith, eyes darting to the ceiling, the wall, the floor. He waves a hand around vaguely. "You know..."
"I don't."
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head. "I'm too tired for this."
Keith feels his grin widen, if only a fraction. He has to bite back his laugh. "No, you're just getting old."
Shiro opens his eyes, hand still at his face. His cheeks are tinged pink as he glares at Keith. "To deal with you acting like you're five? Yeah, you're right."
With some difficulty, Keith swallows his laughter. He sighs, shaking his head and forcing his grin to fade. "Alright, here's the deal," He looks up at Shiro, all seriousness. Shiro raises an eyebrow. "I'll stop acting like I'm five when teasing you..."
"Thank you."
"Once you stop acting like you're twelve about your crushes." He feels the grin coming back, quirking the corners of his lips.
"Keith!" Shiro snaps, pursing his lips as the color on his face darkens.
"What? Are you trying to tell me you don't have a crush? Because I wouldn't believe you if you did."
Shiro stares him down, looking twelve kinds of mortified and embarrassed. Keith just grins.
Shiro sighs again, shaking his head. "Why are you like this?" He looks away, eyes once again trailing to the glass wall. No doubt looking at Allura. Keith doesn't bother to look, too busy drinking in the sight of his flustered brother.
"As your little brother," Something changes in Shiro's expression. It's subtle, but enough to make Keith curious. He finds his gaze drifting toward the window, down towards the pool. "I have faithfully devoted my life to—" His eyes settle on Lance walking toward the pool, and his words wither and die on his tongue.
He's tall. He's always been tall. Keith knows he's tall and lanky. But somehow, right now, he's reacquainted with this fact. His swimsuit is tight, and without his shirt, Keith can really see all the contours of his body. Since when the fuck did he have such broad shoulders? His arms and legs definitely don't normally look that defined. And Keith is pretty damn sure his waist has never been that narrow. God fuck, who is this and what has he done with Lance?
As he watches, Lance stretches his arms over his head, back muscles tightening and rolling beneath his tan skin and he feels something inside of him wither a little bit. What. The actual fuck. Is wrong with him. This is Lance. Loud mouthed and obnoxious Lance. The shit bag who gets under his skin and pisses him off at every available opportunity.
"—to, uh..." Keith tries to get back to his sentence. He's been quite for long enough for it to be weird. His voice is higher than he was anticipating, and he cuts himself off to clear his throat. He really fucking hopes Shiro doesn't notice.
But of course, the universe hates him, so he does.
"To what?" Shiro asks curiously, interest piqued. Keith doesn't look at him, but he can see Shiro staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and then he's following Keith's gaze, and... "Oh. Oh." And god dammit, he has that same shit eating voice that Keith had a moment ago. Fuck.
"Don't." Keith says flatly.
"Don't what?" Shiro practically sings. He's eating this up. Keith refuses to look at him. He can feel the telltale heat creeping up his neck.
"Whatever you're going to say, just don't."
Shiro laughs, putting up his hands. "Alright, alright." And Keith breathes a small sigh of relief. He certainly wouldn't have backed down so quickly, but he's glad Shiro does. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body—
"So, Lance..."
Keith groans, slapping a hand over his face. He shakes his head. "Shiro, it's not like that..."
"Like what, dear brother?"
"I know what you're thinking, Shiro. And it's not like that." He says firmly.
He hums. "Is that so?"
"I'm not doing this."
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Do you want to talk about Allura?"
There was a brief pause and then, "Touche."
"Truce?"
"For now."
And then they stand in silence. Blessed, tense, awkward silence, while the two of them refuse to look at each other. Shiro doesn't move to pick up his weights again, and Keith doesn't bother going to get any. They watch as Lance launches himself into the pool, curling up to do a cannonball as he hits the water. Allura throws up her arms, shielding her face as water splashes over her. She laughs as Lance comes back up, grinning at her. He swims to where she's sitting and crosses his arms on the edge of the pool next to her. He doesn't know what they're talking about, and he doesn't really care. He's too busy glaring at the expanse of Lance's shoulders and back as it dips into the water—
"Hey, guys!"
Keith jumps as a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder. He whips his head around, face contorting into lord knows what as he stares at Hunk in horror. On Hunk's other side, he sees Shiro in a very similar position.
"Hunk!" Keith manages to get out, though his voice sounds strangled.
"Uh, what're you doing here?" Shiro asks, recovering shortly after and managing it much better.
Hunk grins at them both, completely oblivious to the fact that the two of them had been watching Lance and Allura by the poolside. It suddenly hit Keith just how fucking creepy that is, and it knocks the air out of his lungs. His ears are burning.
Hunk shrugs. "I came here with Lance. He said he was gonna come by and swim with Allura, and he asked if I wanted to come with. I've been meaning to find a new gym anyway. Pidge may not weigh much, but it never hurts to be prepared, you know?"
Keith gives him a weak smile, trying to ignore the warmth on his face. They're in a gym though. Hunk has no idea how long they've been here. They can probably blame it on exertion, right?
"I'd be happy to show you around, Hunk." Shiro says, and fuck him for sounding so calm. Like he hadn't just been caught red handed staring like a creep.
Hunk grins at him. "That sounds great, Shiro. What've you guys been doing so far? When I got here, you were looking down—" He takes a step forward, curious eyes going to the window, down to the pool below, and— "Oh, hey! It's Lance and Allura!" He brightens instantly, seemingly oblivious to Keith and Shiro stiffening beside him. "Do they know we're up here?"
"Uhh, no, we, uh—" Shiro stutters for words.
"We just noticed them." Keith finishes, voice a little pitchy but otherwise calm. He exchanges a tight lipped look with Shiro, a silent agreement passing between them.
"Yeah, I just noticed Allura down there when Keith showed up. Then Lance walked out. Don't think they've noticed us." Shiro says with complete calm. It's a hundred percent true, and when he says it, it doesn't sound creepy at all.
"Huh, well, let's say hi." And before he say say anything to stop him, Hunk steps forward, rapping his knuckles heavily on the glass and ignoring all the looks he gets around the weight room as he says loudly. "Lance! Laaaance! Alluraaaa! Hey guys!"
To Keith's horror, they both look up, faces breaking out into grins as Hunk waves at them. They wave back, and Keith looks away, pursing his lips and really fucking hoping the color on his face isn't visible from down below. God, he can't even make eye contact with Lance while he's like that. Jesus Christ, there's something wrong with him.
He excuses himself and walks away to the racks of dumbbells, grabbing two of them for himself. When he comes back to the other two, they're still staring intently down at the pool. Shiro doesn't seem nearly as red anymore, and he's even smiling. "What's going on?" He asks, coming to stand on the other side of Hunk.
Hunk crosses his arms over his chest, easy smile on his face as he glances at him. "Looks like they're about to have some sort of race. Look."
Keith does, and sure enough, Lance and Allura are both standing at the edge of the pool in front of two empty lanes that had been roped off from the rest. They're both stretching as they talk, and Keith knows those smirks. Both of those smirks. Those cocky, self assured smirks. Even if Hunk hadn't told him, he would have known right away what was happening.
As they watch, the two of them line up by their respective lanes, standing at the edge and bending over into position. Both of them have really good form, and Keith watches Allura because she's so much easier to stare at.
"Who'd you think will win?" Hunk asks.
Shiro smirks. Keith scoffs. "Allura," They both say at the same time. Hunk throws back his head and laughs.
He's not sure who's counting them down, but he sees Allura tilt her head to say something to Lance, who immediately breaks form to stand up straight, arms flailing as he says something they can't hear. His face looks mortified. And then Allura is launching herself into the pool, entering the water with graceful perfection. Lance's wordless shout echoes around the room below before he's diving in after her.
They race to one end of the long pool and back. Allura hits the turn around point first, but Lance is right behind her. But despite how smoothly he cuts through the water, he can't close the distance. Allura hits the edge of the pool with a loud whoop and throws a hand in the air, grinning as Lance hits the edge. He looks furious. He says something to her as he pulls himself out of the water and sits himself on the edge.
Lance's head snaps up to look at them as he gestures violently to Allura, who's innocently treading water. His voice is muffled through the glass, but it's loud and echoes around the room enough for them to make out the words: "She cheated!"
Keith laughs.
--------------------------------------------------------
[ FRIDAY ]
Group Chat: "Family BBQ - Today's Menu: Roasted Lance"
last resort: whatever lance is about to type into the chat ignore him
vive la lance: SHIRO I HAVE A HUMBLE REQUEST
vive la lance: keith f u
vive la lance: this is between me and shiro
uptown hunk: uuuh hey guys
uptown hunk: whats up?
vive la lance: HUNK
vive la lance: buddy ol pal
vive la lance: tell keith to shut his fucking mouth
uptown hunk: yeah sorry buddy I'm not gonna do that :/
last resort: thank you hunk
uptown hunk: np buddy :)
vive la lance: okay Im gonna gloss over that betrayal in favor of pursuing my mission
vive la lance: SHIRO YOU HERE???
LLunarGoddess: hold on, I'll tell him to look at his phone
last resort: ALLURA DON'T
vive la lance: allura youre an angel
LLunarGoddess: :)
Need-A-Hand: I'm here
Need-A-Hand: What is it, Lance?
last resort: god fuck
Need-A-Hand: Language, Keith
last resort: gosh fuck
Need-A-Hand: >:(
vive la lance: SHIRO I HAVE A REQUEST
last resort: shiro if you have ever loved me you will ignore him
coo coo motherfuckers: if lance's request is gonna embarrass keith, I say go for it
last resort: pidge you're gonna want to be on my side for this
coo coo motherfuckers: what? why?
coo coo motherfuckers: oh god what's that idiot gonna do?
vive la lance: SHIRO I WANT TO SEE PICTURES OF KEITH AND PIDGE IN HIGH SCHOOL
uptown hunk: :O
LLunarGoddess: !!!
coo coo motherfuckers: oh fuck no
last resort: that's why you're gonna want to be on my side
vive la lance: SHIRO SEND ME PICS OF THE EMO TWINS
coo coo motherfuckers: shiro don't you dare
last resort: shiro I will disown you
Need-A-Hand: Pretty sure you can't do that, Keith
last resort: watch me
vive la lance: hunk back me up!
vive la lance: you wanna see pics of this train wreck too right??
uptown hunk: I'm...
uptown hunk: going to stay out of this one
vive la lance: hunk! D:
vive la lance: bro
uptown hunk: sorry dude but I live with them
uptown hunk: and I'm not willing to take the consequences of encouraging this
uptown hunk: they know where I sleep
coo coo motherfuckers: hunk knows what's up
vive la lance: boo you whore
vive la lance: allura's on my side right? coran?
LLunarGoddess: most definitely >:)
LLunarGoddess: I'd love to see pictures of them in high school, I bet it's adorable
coo coo motherfuckers: no offense but fuck you, allura
last resort: I knew you were evil
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: What are friends for if not to relive your pasts with you in a humorous light?
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: I say bring on the pictures!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: I'm sure we could all use a good laugh with the stress of auditions looming over us
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Or you, as the case may be
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: I'm delightfully stress free at the moment B{D
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Still I think the pictures would be amusing
vive la lance: thats what Im talkin about!
vive la lance: bring on the pics shiro!
vive la lance: its your brotherly duty!
Need-A-Hand: As much as I would love to agree with you, Lance
Need-A-Hand: And as much as I love any opportunity to embarrass Keith
last resort: i hate you
coo coo motherfuckers: shiro think about this
Need-A-Hand: I'm going to have to say no
coo coo motherfuckers: thank god
vive la lance: whAT??
vive la lance: shIRO WHY??
Need-A-Hand: It's been mentioned before that blackmail pictures are a two way street with us
Need-A-Hand: I don't think the revenge pictures would be worth it
vive la lance: what if I promise not to look at them???
LLunarGoddess: I can't make that promise
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Nor can I
uptown hunk: same here
vive la lance: guys pls
vive la lance: Im trying to negotiate over here
Need-A-Hand: Sorry, Lance, no deal
last resort: you can stay my brother for now
coo coo motherfuckers: you've made a wise decision
vive la lance: man fUCK this buSTED BLACKMAIL SYSTEM
Group Chat: "Family BBQ - Today's Menu: Roasted Lance"
vive la lance has renamed the conversation "Family BBQ - Today's Menu: Flash Fried Emo Twins"
uptown hunk: not gonna lie
uptown hunk: that menu sounds gross
coo coo motherfuckers: what the fuck is this
vive la lance: I HAVE RETURNED AND I COME BEARING GIFTS
coo coo motherfuckers: ...
coo coo motherfuckers: that better not mean what I think it means
vive la lance: strap in kiddies
vive la lance: were about to go on a wild ride B)
last resort: lance
last resort: what the fuck are you doing
vive la lance has sent an image
vive la lance has sent an image
vive la lance has sent an image
vive la lance: B)
uptown hunk: omg
LLunarGoddess: oooomg!!
last resort: oh, my god
last resort: I'm breaking your kneecaps
coo coo motherfuckers: WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THOSE
LLunarGoddess: you're both so CUTE!!
coo coo motherfuckers: allura
coo coo motherfuckers: I like you
coo coo motherfuckers: but I will not hesitate to take you down
LLunarGoddess: bring it short stuff B)
LLunarGoddess: you're adorable
coo coo motherfuckers: OH MY GOD
uptown hunk: pls don't kill me pidge
uptown hunk: but allura's right
vive la lance: LOOK AT THOSE TWO ADORABLE EMO ASSHOLES
vive la lance: PIDGE HAS BLACK HAIR
vive la lance: WITH GREEN HIGHLIGHTS
vive la lance: KEITH HAS A DOUCHY RED STREAK
vive la lance: still a mullet tho :/
last resort: fuck off lance
coo coo motherfuckers: I will end you, you soggy piece of bread
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: What a delightful display of youth! Reminds me of my days in high school
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Tried to dye my mustache once
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: That did not go well
LLunarGoddess: it did not
vive la lance: Im crying tears of joy rn
vive la lance: I have been blessed
coo coo motherfuckers: I'm going to beat you with a garden gate
coo coo motherfuckers: how the ever living FUCK did you find those pictures?
last resort: shiro I swear to god
last resort: you're being suspiciously quiet
Need-A-Hand: I'm just trying to figure out how Lance could have gotten those from me
Need-A-Hand: I didn't give them to him, I swear
last resort: I'm texting mom right now to send me your most embarrassing pictures
Need-A-Hand: Keith, please
Need-A-Hand: It wasn't me
Need-A-Hand: We had a deal, and I didn't break it
coo coo motherfuckers: shiro you bowl of stale cereal
coo coo motherfuckers: I will have my vengeance
Need-A-Hand: It wasn't me!
vive la lance: as much as I would love to see the retribution pics
vive la lance: I feel like I should say it wasnt shiro
coo coo motherfuckers: THEN HOW THE FUCK????
vive la lance: your brother dude
coo coo motherfuckers: MATT DID THIS???
coo coo motherfuckers: I'm gonna kill him
Need-A-Hand: Pidge, let's stay reasonable
coo coo motherfuckers: I'm sorry I can't hear you over the sound of sibling betrayal
uptown hunk: pidge you're starting to sound like lance
vive la lance: this is the best day of my life
last resort: shut the fuck up lance
last resort: delete those right now
vive la lance: make me mullet boy ;P
last resort: I'm going to break your kneecaps
vive la lance: keith I need my kneecaps if Im gonna dance :(
vive la lance: you wound me
last resort: not yet
last resort: but I will
vive la lance: are you gonna
vive la lance: cut my life into pieces? ;)
last resort: ....
last resort: what
vive la lance: Is this your last resort?
last resort: oh my god
vive la lance: suffocation?
vive la lance: no breathing?
last resort: stop
last resort: I made this username years ago okay?
last resort: I never use this stupid program
last resort: fuck off
vive la lance: ahahahahaha
vive la lance: cant escape your past keith
vive la lance: just to sow more Discourse™
vive la lance: pidge was the one who told me where your username was from
last resort: PIDGE WHAT THE FUCK
coo coo motherfuckers: can't talk rn keith
coo coo motherfuckers: dealing with brother dearest
vive la lance: teenage emo keith is everything I ever hoped for
vive la lance: I am LIVING
last resort has changed his username to fuck off
vive la lance: AHAHAHAHA
Need-A-Hand: Keith
fuck off: don't you keith me shiro
coo coo motherfuckers: this is BULLSHIT
coo coo motherfuckers: I can't even get my REVENGE on him because matt is stupidly not ashamed of his gawky awkward teenage self
coo coo motherfuckers: what the FUCK is up with that
Need-A-Hand: To be honest, he hasn't changed much over the years
coo coo motherfuckers: I mean
coo coo motherfuckers: yeah
coo coo motherfuckers: but in principle he should still be ashamed
coo coo motherfuckers: I'm offended
vive la lance: oh! speaking of matt
vive la lance: he also sent me this
vive la lance has sent an image
coo coo motherfuckers: YOU TAKE THAT FILTH BACK YOU UNFATHOMABLY ITCHY SWEATER
vive la lance: not on your life pidge
vive la lance: pay backs a bitch
LLunarGoddess: awwwWWWW!!!
LLunarGoddess: that's adorable :)
uptown hunk: aww they're sleeping and CUDDLING
coo coo motherfuckers: HUNK I WILL HIDE ALL YOUR FAVORITE COOKING UTENSILS
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: That is positively adorable!
Need-A-Hand: ... It IS pretty cute
Need-A-Hand: That one's one of my favorites
fuck off has sent an image
Need-A-Hand: Keith! WHY? I didn't send those pictures to Lance!
uptown hunk: :O !!!!
uptown hunk: this is amazing
vive la lance: AWKWARD TEENAGE SHIRO!!!
vive la lance: THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: What a strapping young lad!
LLunarGoddess: this is...
LLunarGoddess: the best thing I've ever seen :')
Need-A-Hand: Allura, please, don't
LLunarGoddess: don't what? ;)
Need-A-Hand: Uuuuugh, Keith, why?
fuck off: if I have to suffer so do you
vive la lance: this is The Best™
vive la lance: have I died and gone to heaven??
uptown hunk: I feel like... I need to level the playing ground
vive la lance: ...
vive la lance: hunk what are you talking about?
uptown hunk: sorry buddy but if I don't pacify pidge I fear what they might do
vive la lance: huuuuuunk
uptown hunk: :/
coo coo motherfuckers: do it, hunk
fuck off: do it
LLunarGoddess: please
Need-A-Hand: Do it
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: You're outvoted, Lance
vive la lance: NO!
uptown hunk has sent an image
vive la lance: NOBODY LOOK
vive la lance: AVERT YOUR EYES
coo coo motherfuckers: sweet sweet justice
fuck off: ... wow
vive la lance: SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH EMO BOY
fuck off: I suddenly feel better about myself
vive la lance: FUCK OOOOOFF
Need-A-Hand: And you made fun of ME for braces and acne
vive la lance: IT WAS BEFORE I HAD MY PERSONAL HYGENE ROUTINE OKAY???
LLunarGoddess: Lance, you're adorable
vive la lance: shut the fuck off allura
coo coo motherfuckers: shut off
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Shut off!
uptown hunk: shut off :o
fuck off: go ahead and shut off allura
Need-A-Hand: I'd rather she didn't
fuck off: I'm sure
Need-A-Hand: ...
Need-A-Hand: Shut off, Keith
vive la lance: hunk buddy you brought this on yourself
uptown hunk: yeah I figured :/
uptown hunk: I don't blame you
vive la lance has sent an image
uptown hunk: sigh
uptown hunk: you had to pick that one?
vive la lance: sorry not sorry buddy
coo coo motherfuckers: okay but teenage hunk is like ACTUALLY adorable
coo coo motherfuckers: like a straight up prepubescent angel?
coo coo motherfuckers: I can't even make fun of him
fuck off: yeah I'm with pidge
fuck off: let's go back to making fun of lance
vive la lance: HEY!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: I can offer a diversion for you, Lance
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul has sent an image
LLunarGoddess: CORAN!
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Behold! Young Allura! Isn't she precious?
uptown hunk: awww!!!
coo coo motherfuckers: hA!
vive la lance: coran you are my hero
Need-A-Hand: Oh my god
Need-A-Hand: That's
Need-A-Hand: So cute
LLunarGoddess: I'm leaving this chat
coo coo motherfuckers: what's the matter princess? can dish it out but can't deal with it?
LLunarGoddess: a parting gift
LLunarGoddess has sent an image
vive la lance: ...
vive la lance: coran were you just BORN with that mustache???
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: I've been gifted B)
uptown hunk: that's honestly impressive
uptown hunk: you were a strapping young dude, coran
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: Why, thank you, Hunk ^_^
coo coo motherfuckers: that's... some scary shit
coo coo motherfuckers: that mustache is immortal
Need-A-Hand: Coran looks almost the same as he does now
coo coo motherfuckers: I know it's not fair
LLunarGoddess: how about this one
LLunarGoddess has sent an image
coo coo motherfuckers: AAAAH!!!!!
uptown hunk: WHOAAA NO NONONO
fuck off: holy fuck
Need-A-Hand: Wooow
vive la lance: PUT THE MUSTACHE BACK ON PUT IT ON WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: D:< !!!
LLunarGoddess: B)
fuck off: why is this group like this?
vive la lance: because friends make friends share the suffering
coo coo motherfuckers: fact
uptown hunk: truth
vive la lance: B) deal with it preteen mullet
fuck off: I hate you all
vive la lance: aw keith likes us ;)
Need-A-Hand: aww <3
uptown hunk: awww :')
LLunarGoddess: awwww :P
I-Mustache-u4ur-Soul: awwwww 8D
coo coo motherfuckers: awwwwww ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
fuck off: fuck
fuck off: OFF
-------------------------------------------------------------------
[ SATURDAY ]
"Keeeeith, I'm exhausted!" Lance whines, throwing an arm over Keith's shoulders and leaning his whole body into it. Lance hates that he doesn't even budge. He just shifts his feet a little to rebalance himself.
"Lance, get off of me." He says mildly. His voice is calm, but there's faint color on his cheeks. Then again, that could just be from the fact that they've run through their dance routine like a hundred times in the past hour. Ugh.
"Nooooo, I'm exhausted. You tired me out. Jesus, Keith, haven't you ever heard that too much practice can be a bad thing?"
"No."
"Well it can!" Lance huffs, draping both arms over his shoulders. Keith ignores him in favor of scrolling through his phone. Lance can see that he's checking the group message. "If you practice too much, you can over practice and then when the time comes, if you fuck up once you get lost and you stumble and it's harder to recover! That's why you're not supposed to actually like, write a speech. You just write notecards and wing it."
Keith snorts. "I'm not really a fan of winging it."
"Yeah, no kidding." Lance rolls his eyes, sagging heavier on Keith's shoulders.
Keith tries to shrug him off, but Lance isn't moving. "Lance, get off of me."
"No! I'm tired! I'm sore! My legs are like jelly! Have some sympathy, Keith!"
"Stop being dramatic."
"Can't help it, dude. It's in my blood." Keith snorts, and tries to disengage himself from Lance once again, but Lance isn't having any of it. He wraps his arms around Keith's neck and wraps a leg around him.
Keith grunts, trying to push off his leg, but he's persistent. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Keith, carry meeeee."
"And why in the ever living hell would I do that?"
"Because you've worked me to the bone, Keith! You don't want me to trip on my tired legs and fall down the stairs, do you? Break a leg is just an expression!"
"Use the elevator."
"You're so cruel. You piggybacked Pidge!"
"Pidge is significantly smaller than you."
Lance scoffs. "What? I thought you lifted, bro? You saying I'm too heavy for you? I mean, I understand if you can't—"
"Oh, my god, Lance, just shut up." He sounds exasperated, but not mad. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, shaking his head. It's a gesture that Lance has come to realize is him gracefully accepting defeat. "Alright, but you're carrying my bag."
Lance lets out a happy squeal that he's not in the least bit embarrassed by, and scrambles away from Keith, grabbing his bag and Keith's. He throws one over each shoulder and hurries back to Keith, who's standing with his hip cocked to the side, arms crossed over his chest, and watching Lance with a raised eyebrow. Try as he might, if he's even trying, he can't hide the amusement playing across his features. Lance grins at him broadly, gesturing with impatient hands for him to turn around.
Keith roll his eyes and does as he's bid, shifting his legs apart to balance his weight as he bends down a little, holding his arms out to the side. Lance wastes no time jumping on Keith's back, wrapping his long limbs around him. Keith grunts, straightening as his hands hesitantly wrap around Lance's knees. He hops a little, adjusting Lance's weight.
"Jesus, why are you so heavy?"
"It's all muscle, dude. Check out these guns." He legs go of Keith with one arm in order to flex, but Keith spins sharply, throwing off his balance. He lets out a small yelp that he's a little ashamed off, and clings to Keith once again. "Um, rude. And to think I gave you front row seats to the gun show."
Keith chuckles. "If I wanted to see Nerf guns, I'd go to Walmart."
"Ha ha, very funny." Lance says dryly. Then he straightens and points to the door, saying much more enthusiastically. "Hi-ho, Mullet! Away!"
Keith doesn't even try to hide his soft chortle of a laugh. It's insanely adorable. Which isn't a weird thing to think, because plenty of Lance's friends have adorable laughs. Take Hunk for example! His laughter is the best! And when Pidge really gets going, they get all shorty and high pitched and it's hilariously cute.
"Really? That's the best you could do?"
Lance scoffs in mock offense as Keith carries him through the door, and Lance reaches out as they pass to flick off the lights. "Well, I can't really call you Silver, now can I? There's nothing silver about you. Except maybe your pasty ass skin. And I would've gone for another horse reference, but Black Beauty was too much of a compliment. I have standards, you know."
"You could've fooled me."
"Excuse!"
"Face it, Lance. You need new material. If you keep calling me Mullet, I'm going to start thinking you actually like my hair."
Lance scoffs and sputters, making a big show just for the hell of it. And possibly because he knows it might get Keith to laugh again. "Puh-lease, Keith. This rat's nest?" He lifts a hand to ruffle Keith's hair. He's... just going to ignore how soft it is, like wow, what conditioner does this boy use? Keith ducks his head to get away, but there is no escaping. Lance laughs. "Your hair is terrible, and you should feel bad."
"If I cut it, you'll lose most of your insults. Who knows, you might start calling me by my name."
Lance hums, considering. "You're right. Keep it. I don't want all my famous mullet research to go to waste."
He can almost hear Keith rolling his eyes. They get to the elevator and Keith nods to the panel. "Hit the button."
"The elevator? Really?" He says, but hits the down button anyway. They hear the contraption hum to life. They haven't taken the elevator a single time since they started this whole rivalry fiasco. And even after they became partners instead, they still took the stairs. There's like an unspoken rule about it.
"I'm not taking the stairs carrying your fat ass."
"Pfff, sure, be a wimp."
When the doors dinged open, Keith steps inside and Lance hits the ground floor button. As the doors close, Lance feels a strange sense of... confinement come over him. He's never been particularly claustrophobic, and he's never had a problem with elevators. But there's something infinitely more private about being trapped inside a small metal box than being alone in a long, echoey stairwell. The silence that falls feels suffocating, leaving him with nothing to think about besides the fact that he's got a mildly attractive guy between his thighs— and okay, he admits, that was a weird way to think of that.
"Hey Keith," He says to break the silence.
"Yeah?" There's something unreadable in his voice. Or maybe Lance is just imagining it. He continues on anyway, saying the only thing he can think to say.
Probably because it's the main thing that's been bothering him.
"Are you nervous?" He asks, voice coming out a lot softer than he had meant to.
It takes him a moment to answer. "Nervous about what?"
Lance let out a surprised snort. "Keith, don't be a smartass!" He says, lightly smacking the side of Keith's head. Then, a little more grumpily, he adds, "You know what I mean..."
"No, I'm not nervous." He says as the elevator descends. "Are you?'
"Well, yeah." He doesn't see any reason to deny it. Especially since Keith can't see his face right now. "This is like... a big deal for me. I really want to go to regionals. And we've had half the time to prepare as everyone else. And we've never danced together before. And there's like, a million and five things that could go wrong. What if someone breaks their arm again? What if I break my arm? What if I get sick? What if I completely blank and forget everything? Oh my god, I'm going to choke, aren't I? I'm totally going to choke—"
He's cut off from his increasingly panicked rambling as Keith takes a step back and pushes his back up against the elevator wall. Keith leans back into him heavily, pushing the air out of his lungs. He tilts his head back against Lance's chest, and he gets a mouth full of mullet. He sputters, turning his head to get the strands unstuck from his lips.
"You're not going to choke." Keith says, and fuck him for being so calm about this. Why is Lance the only one panicking?
"But how do you knoooow?" Lance whines.
Keith shrugs beneath his arms. "I just do."
"Keeeeith."
Keith sighs. "Look, how many times have we run through it?"
"A lot."
"And how many times have I corrected you until you got the perfect form?"
"Too many times!"
"And did it help you improve?"
"Maybe..."
"And are you confident with the dance?"
"For the most part..."
"And who's good at pulling shit off even when he fucks up?"
"...Me?"
"And who has faith that you can pull this off?"
"Uh, Shiro?"
"Literally everyone but you, so would you just chill? We'll be fine."
Lance groans, despite the warmth that's spreading in his chest. "How are you so... calm about this?"
He shrugs again. "We've run through the routine enough time that it's just muscle memory now."
"Dancing is more than just muscle memory, you know."
Another shrug. Every time he does it, his shoulders rub against Lance's chest. He doesn't like that he notices that. "It's gotten me this far, and it's going to be what gets us through auditions."
Lance scoffs. "Well you sure are cocky."
"Yeah, and you should be, too."
The elevator dings as it opens, and Keith leans off the back wall. They stumble forward for a moment before he catches himself, then they're walking down the hall. It's nearly empty at this time. The dance classes haven't started yet, so the only people here are those like them. More of the independent study type. A few people give them curious glances as they pass, but Keith doesn't pay them any mind. Whenever Lance makes eye contact, he gives them finger guns and a wink. He's the king of making other people look away first.
"Hey, Keith?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks... For the pep talk and everything."
"Don't get used to it."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
When they reach the front lobby, Pidge and Hunk are already there waiting. Coran stands in the open doorway to the office, leaning casually against the door frame while he talks to the two of them. When Keith and Lance come around the corner, conversation stops as they all turn to stare with varying expressions of amusement and surprise.
Keith takes a few more steps toward them and Lance is grinning, lifting a hand into the air. "Hi, guys—Keith!"
Keith turns sharply, pivoting on his heel as he lets go of Lance's legs, pulling them off his hips as he turns. Lance hasn't been holding on tightly, and he's promptly thrown onto the floor on his ass.
"Keith!" Lance repeats, putting everything into his offended tone as he glares up at Keith, rubbing his ass.
Pidge is cackling behind him, and Coran is chuckling. Even Hunk is laughing, and Lance is so betrayed!
"Special delivery." Keith announces, gesturing to Lance with one hand.
"I'm not signing for that. Can we return it?" Pidge says.
Lance gapes at them. "Rude."
But Keith is laughing softly under his breath as he bends down to pick up his bag, and Lance can't bring himself to be too mad at him. Fucking Keith.
"See you guys tomorrow." He says, giving them all a small salute with two fingers as he turns and walks back toward the hall. Lance has learned over the past few weeks that Keith always parks in the back.
As he watches him go, he remembers something, and scrambles to his feet to hurry after him. "Keith! Wait up!"
Keith stops, already around the corner, and turns to stare at him. "What?"
Lance skips to a stop in front of him, grinning. "You know that red plaid you have?"
"Uh, yeah?" He looks about twelve flavors of confused.
"Wear it tomorrow."
"What?"
"Wear it tomorrow. With a black shirt and black pants."
Keith raises an eyebrow. "Why?"
Lance just grins. "Just trust me."
---------------------------------------------------------
[ SUNDAY ]
Keith makes it to the studio nearly an hour before auditions.
Despite what he had said to Lance, he's feeling a little nervous. It's not often he performs in front of a crowd, or anyone for that matter, so he's just... he's not used to the anticipation of it all. That's honestly the worst part. Having to just... wait. Waiting, and waiting, and all the adrenaline of it just souring in his veins. He knows once they get up there, he'll be fine. Once they're dancing, he'll be fine. Once it's over, he'll be fine. But it's everything that leads up to doing it that's got him on edge.
He had been pacing around his apartment, unable to start anything and unable to just... calm down, so he had decided fuck it, he'd go to the studio early.
He gets a key from Coran and holes himself up in an empty room, running through the routine a couple more times. His muscle memory is impeccable. As always. Sure, they changed it a bit when they adapted it for two people. And yeah, they added a bunch of things. But this dance was his first. He'd had much more time to prepare. And besides, this is his element. Memorizing choreography like this... it's what he's good at.
Lance, on the other hand...
It's not that Lance is bad, it's just not his thing. Keith knew that going into this. Even when he was trying, even when he was listening to Keith's instructions and mirroring his moves, Keith could feel him struggling to contain the urge to act out. To dance his own way. Keith could practically feel him fighting against the choreography, despite his determination to learn it. It just... wasn't in his nature. Keith could see that he wanted to learn, but his attention was just constantly drifting, and Keith had to constantly reign it back in.
So Keith had drilled him hard. He had corrected him mercilessly. He had made Lance go through it step for step, making him pause to Keith could adjust his arm here, push his leg out a little there, curve his torso every so slightly. He made sure each and every one of Lance's poses were perfect, that they hit the correct beats at just the right times.
Lance complained. Holy shit did he complain. He whined and he pouted, but he did everything Keith asked. He never gave up and he let Keith go about nitpicking everything.
Keith isn't even sure Lance realizes just how much it helped him improve. He's a good dancer. That much is obvious. And all the attention to detail, making Lance go through it over and over and over until they were perfectly in sync... it had actually helped. It had drilled it into Lance's muscle memory without the idiot even knowing. Lance knows the moves. He fucking knows this dance like the back of his hand. Keith knows he does. Keith, honestly, has complete faith in him.
The real question is: is Lance going to get so far into his own head that he doesn't trust his body to just do what Keith taught it to do?
Keith doesn't know the answer to that question, but there's nothing he can do about it at this point. He'd tried his best to give a pep talk yesterday, and that had been awkward as hell. He's not used to... being that guy. That's usually Shiro's deal. Still, Lance is his partner in this. It's the least he can do to try and get him to calm the fuck down and trust himself.
All Keith can do now is focus on himself and make sure that he does what he's supposed to do, and just... pray to anything that'll listen that Lance can pull this off.
He's gone through the routine several times with long breaks between to just scroll through his phone to distract himself, when he gets a message. Then two. Then three. He just watches as his phone blows up.
vive la lance: dude! where are you??
vive la lance: were here
vive la lance: me hunk and pidge
vive la lance: I wanted to get here like an hour or two or three ago but SOME PEOPLE thought that was excessive??
vive la lance: rude much
vive la lance: I stayed the night with them last night so they could make sure I got here on time
vive la lance: not that I slept much
vive la lance: even tho hunk made me sleepy time tea
vive la lance: it just made me pee a lot
vive la lance: I think my bloodstream is like 50% coffee rn??
vive la lance: is that a bad thing??
vive la lance: too late now
vive la lance: anyway where are you dude??
vive la lance: dont tell me you forgot
vive la lance: or youre late
vive la lance: or youre skipping out on me
vive la lance: or that you got into an accident and youre in the hospital
vive la lance: ill kick your ass keith kogane i swear i will
vive la lance: keith
vive la lance: keith
vive la lance: keith
fuck off: jfc lance STOP
vive la lance: there you are!
vive la lance: well sort of
vive la lance: where are you really?
vive la lance: like physically rn
vive la lance: and the answer better be "almost there"
fuck off: I'm here
fuck off: at the studio
vive la lance: wait really?
fuck off: I've been here for an hour
fuck off: Im upstairs, Ill head down now
vive la lance: you got here early?
fuck off: yeah
vive la lance: oh
vive la lance: nice
fuck off: this is a big thing for me too lance Im going to fuck it up for you
vive la lance: I know I know
vive la lance: Im just nervous
fuck off: I know
fuck off: but youll do fine
vive la lance: damn right I will
vive la lance: just make sure to carry your own weight hotshot
vive la lance: btw you remembered to wear your red plaid right?
fuck off: yeah?
vive la lance: good ;)
Keith shoves his phone back into his pocket as he reaches the bottom of the steps and steps out into the main hall. Auditions are set to take place in room 1A, one of the biggest rooms on the ground floor. A quick check of the time tells him that it's ten minutes until the hour, when it's scheduled to start. Everyone is filtering into the room, except for Lance, who's leaning against the wall outside the room, one leg propped up on the wall behind him and hands shoved in his pockets.
He looks up as Keith approaches, a bright grin spreading his lips.
"You've got to be kidding me." Keith says, frowning as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Lance doesn't need an explanation to know what Keith's talking about. He pushes off the wall and holds his arms out to the side. "What'd you think?" He crosses his ankles and executes a smooth spin.
Keith raises an eyebrow. "I think you're an idiot."
"Aww, don't be that way, Keith. We look good!"
"You know this is just auditions, right? They're not judging us on appearances. Just how we dance."
"Well, yeah, but they'll appreciate the extra effort we're putting into this. They'll never know that we only had two weeks to prepare."
"I don't think they'll be fooled by matching outfits." Keith deadpans. "All the judges saw us signed up for solo auditions."
Lance just shrugs, putting his hands on his hips. His grins morphs into more of a smirk. "Come on, it's all about showmanship. Appearances might not officially count, but we're definitely going to stick out."
"I hope it's in a good way."
Lance scoffs and steps closer to sling an arm around Keith's shoulders. "Have some faith in me, Keith, buddy, ol' pal. We've got this awesome duality thing going in our dance, you know? And now that's enforced by our awesome casual fire and ice getup." He says, waggling his eyebrows and tugging on the edges of his open plaid.
His plaid matches Keith's almost perfectly, except for the fact that it's blue instead of red. Both of them are wearing it open with black shirts underneath, and the sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Like Keith, Lance is wearing black jeans. The way the blue and black compliment Lance's skin tone, showing off the definition of his forearms... god fuck, where did he get off? It just wasn't fair that he could dress like a hobo half the time, a douchebag the other half, and still manage to look good like this. What an asshole.
Keith rolls his eyes. "Fire and ice, huh?"
"Yeah, pretty cool, right?" Lance is grinning, and Keith glances at him sideways. He refuses to turn his head all the way. They're too close as it is. He gives Lance a flat stare, but feels a smile tugging at his lips. "You're fire cause you're Mr. Hotshot. And I'm ice, obviously, cause I'm just that cool." He lifts his chin, tugging at his collar.
Keith snorts.
The room is crowded. Much more crowded than solo auditions had been. But he supposes that's to be expected when everyone is auditioning in pairs. Still, his anxiety over being in such a crowded space, surrounded by all the sound and voices, it's not so bad. Not when Lance's arm is still over his shoulder as he guides Keith across the room to where Pidge and Hunk are sitting up against the wall with Shiro and Allura.
Hunk and Lance fist bump. Shiro puts an encouraging hand on Keith's shoulder. Pidge flashes them a thumbs up. Allura gives them a brilliant smile and a wave. Keith and Lance settle down next to the four of them, and it's... comforting to be around them. It helps ease his nerves, still frazzled with anticipation. It's easy to ignore the steadily filling room when he's pressed so close to the familiar bubble of his close friends.
When the clock hits the hour, Coran is suddenly there at the front of the room, and not a second late. He welcomes everyone and starts his prepared speech, much like he had for solo auditions. When he's done, he bows in an overly formal way that reminds Keith of something Lance would do, and strides off to the side to the judge's table.
They go by the list order of sign ups. Which, unfortunately, means that Keith and Lance are last. When this is announced, Keith sighs. He hates going last. He'd prefer to go first and get it over with than sit and stew in anticipation.
At the sound of his sigh, and what he can only assume is a sour look on his face, Lance leans over and whispers. "Hey, don't worry about it, we got this."
Keith scowls, hunching his shoulders slightly as he slides down the wall. "I'm not worried." He mumbles. "I just don't like going last."
Lance snorts softly, nudging his shoulder with his own. "What're you talking about? Last is the best time to go. The first thing they remember is the last thing they see, you know? We're going to be so memorable that they have to give us one of the spots."
Keith glances up at him, feeling his expression soften when faced with Lance's confident smirk. "Well you sure are cocky."
He snickers, tilting his chin down as he raises an eyebrow. "Wasn't it you who told me I should be?"
Keith just smiles.
The list of contestants is longer than Keith anticipated. Or maybe time just moves a lot slower when he's watching everyone dance? He's not really sure. Some of their competition is good, but others could use some obvious improvement. He watches them all with a critical eye, but it's not judging. He's just watching the choreography, interest piqued at what others might have come up with. Half the time he's not even seeing what people are doing, but rather the potential of what they could be doing, if their dances had been tweaked just right.
Beside him, Lance is a nervous wreck. He might have talked big about being the last to go, but Keith can see his nerves are frayed. He's twitching a lot. Keith can see him out of the corner of his eye, fingers drumming against his arms, foot restlessly bouncing. He watches the others dance with polite attention, but in the breaks, his eyes are shifting everywhere, lips pressed tight. He's not even talking, which is probably what worries Keith the most.
Keith doesn't think he's particularly nervous, but Lance is doing a damn fine job of making him feel it.
The tension is eased somewhat when it's Hunk and Pidge's turn. Lance sits up straight, crossing his legs and leaning forward with rapt attention. As the two of them plug in Pidge's phone and take their starting positions side by side at the front of the room, Lance leans over to Keith, nudging him with his elbow.
"I helped with this one."
Keith eyes him curiously. "I thought you didn't like to choreograph dances?"
"I don't." Lance scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I see it more like..." He waves a hand around vaguely. "Helping them figure out a good groove? How to get from one set of moves to the next? I help with transitions and stuff." He looks at Keith out of the corner of his eyes, giving him a sly smile and a wink. "Impressed?"
Now it's Keith's turn to roll his eyes, but there's a good natured smile on his lips. "We'll see."
Pidge and Hunk go through a complicated handshake with a lot of fist bumps and flaring fingers before they turn to the crowd, grinning as the music starts.
They start with a tapping their feet to the beat, wrists flicking. And then Hunk moves quick, rotating on his heels and throwing up a hand over Pidge's head to gesture to them. He stands still as Pidge goes through a series of moves to the beat, moves that are high energy but with that small Pidge flair. Then Pidge is moving, rotating on their feet to gesture to Hunk before freezing. Hunk picks up immediately, doing his own set of very Hunk-like dance moves.
And then suddenly they're both going through a series of poses, each falling on the heavy downbeat and holding for just a fraction of a second before they're moving to the next. The first pose is together, but the following ones are different. Yet they still seem to fit together. Each pose, though not the same, seem to fit together in one cohesive picture, a frame that only lasts half a second before changing.
The poses devolve into more separate dancing, but they're still together. Then they're slapping hands and gesturing together.
It goes on like that. Their moves are together and then separate, but even when they're doing their own thing, it fits together so perfectly that Keith can't question it. They play off each other, high fiving and play punching the other into a new pose. And right when they look like they're going to devolve into separate dances, they're suddenly syncing up again for several beats. Separate, but together. Always together.
Keith sees how they play off of their size difference. Instead of spending the whole dance side by side, as a lot of duos do, they're constantly moving. They're doing their own thing, playing off the moves and energy of the other. They rotate around, at one point going back to back and taking turns in the spot light before spinning around to show the other. They position themselves to Pidge is more forward, knowing that there's not much they can do to block the view of Hunk anyway.
The dance style has a lot more energy than Keith knows Pidge likes to do on their own, but he knows Pidge is perfectly capable of pulling it off. There's a lot of big gestures from Hunk's style, but there are fine finesses and sharp moves that distinctly come from Pidge. At one point when the music slows, they do as well, moving with the controlled fluidity that Pidge specializes in. He's actually surprised as how well Hunk pulls it off, but he supposes he's been dancing with Pidge for long enough, so it would make sense that he's picked up a few things.
They move stiffly, body bouncing a little with each step like they're on hydraulics. He can practically hear the steam and grind of metal with their movements. And while each of them move of their own accord, out of sync with the other, it still fits together perfectly. Like two gears, one big and one small, moving independently but together.
They end standing stiffly, one hand each in the air, then slowly bending forward and lowering their hands over their torsos in a bow.
The audience claps and cheers as they have after every performance, but Keith likes to think it's a little louder than usual. That may, he thinks, have something to do with the fact that Lance is practically screaming beside him.
It's not long after that it's Shiro and Allura's turn.
As their names are called and the two of them stand, everyone lights up with excited whispers. Shiro and Allura are legendary at Altea. They're easily the best duo here, and no one really tried to fight that. At this point, auditions are just a formality for them. Everyone knows they're going to get in, but they still enjoy the opportunity to watch them nonetheless.
Keith definitely enjoys getting to see them dance. They have such emotional and physical synergy that comes across with their dancing, and it's absolutely incredible. Watching the two of them, seeing how dance had helped Shiro get back to being himself after he lost his arm... it had been what pushed Keith into dancing in the first place.
As they plug in Allura's phone and select the song, pausing it and handing it over to Coran, they take their places at the front of the room. Keith isn't sure if it's intentional or not, but he swears everyone in the room seems to shuffle back a few feet, widening the dance floor at the front of the room. It's well known that the two of them use a lot of space.
They stand back to back, and as the music starts, Keith swears the whole room is holding their breath. He knows he is.
The music is slow and emotional. They go through a series of poses, completely independent of each other, but playing off the other in subtle ways. And then they're together as the lyrics start, taking a long, exaggerated lunge step. Shiro's hand in there, seemingly guiding Allura. Then they're stepping apart, bending backwards, turning, straightening. Her hand is in his as she goes a graceful leap to reposition. They come together before falling apart to the floor, quickly lying on their backs, side by side but facing opposite ways.
Allura goes into a bridge and Shiro is under her, rolling over, propping his head under his calves to lift her legs and giving a firm push to help give her the momentum to pull her legs forward. Then suddenly he's standing, her leg hooked around his neck. He swings her around to his back. She straightens as he bends forward, putting her back down on her feet. She's immediately falling to her knees and pulls him down with her. The music picks up and they roll, leaping to their feet to go through a series of coordinated moves.
Their synergy is electric. They dance in a way that's physically emotional, playing out a story. Instead of dancing to the song, the song seems to just be a background for their performance. They play off each other, limbs flowing but controlled. Allura never hesitates when Shiro lifts her or throws her around. Keith can see the complete trust she has in him, a trust gained after years of working together, and it damn near takes his breath away. With the way they dance together, the way they flow together, it's easy to forget that his brother has a prosthetic. The adjustments they've made to compensate for it are subtle, barely noticeable.
The way they dance is so natural. Allura's hair falls freely as they move, falling in front of her face and over her shoulders but only adding to the emotional appeal of the story. Their faces are relaxed, eyes only for each other. It's like they've completely forgotten they're performing in front of others. It's like they only exist for each other. Like the audience is intruding on a private moment.
And it's a kind of synergy, a kind of tension and adoration that can't be faked.
Jesus fucking Christ, his brother is blind as a fucking bat. "Just dance partners" his ass.
When the music fades, there's a beat of silence where no one in the room dares to break it. And then Shiro and Allura look up, heartbroken expressions from a moment ago gone and replaced by bright grins. One person claps, and then suddenly the room erupts in applause. Shiro scratches the back of his neck, smiling shyly at the audience as Allura takes his hand and leads him into a graceful bow.
"Wow..." Lance breathes beside him.
"Yeah," Because there's not much else he can say.
Then it's like Lance snaps out of the spell that's fallen over all of them. He leans back on a hand, head lolling to the side as his eyes go half lidded and he smirks. "It's gonna be tough, but we can beat them."
Keith gives him an incredulous look, one eyebrow raised. "Beat them? We saw the same performance, right? We're no where near their caliber."
Lance scoffs, leaning over to nudge Keith's shoulder with his own. "Come on, Keithy boy, confidence is key here. It's time your old hag of a brother went down. Gotta make way for the new generation, right?"
Keith snorts to hold back his laugh. "Shiro's an old hag but Allura's not?"
"Pfff, what? Of course not! Have you seen her? She could be ten thousand years old and still look just as gorgeous."
Keith hums an affirmative because there's not much he can say to contest that.
Time seems to flow in a weird, confined flux after that. It takes forever for their names to be called, but once they are, it's like time had passed in the blink of an eye. Keith's head snaps up, heart instantly racing as a surge of adrenaline rushes through his veins. Lance is grinning at him, grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet. "Let's go, hotshot!"
They pick their way through the mass of sitting dancers, all of them antsy to leave now that they've auditioned but politely staying. Keith hands his phone to Coran, song already selected. The man grins at him, idly twisting his mustache. There's an odd twinkle of what Keith thinks is excitement in his eyes as he says, "Good luck, boys."
Keith gives him a small smile, nodding as he goes back to Lance, who's standing in the center of the open floor, arms moving back and forth as he bounces on the balls of his feet.
"Ready for this?"
"Are you?"
"Pfff, I got this shit down, for reals. Just try to keep up, mullet man." He sends him a smirk and a wink before he's turning his back to him.
Keith steps up and puts his back to Lance's, and they lock arms.
"Relax." Keith says under his breath.
"I am relaxed," Lance hisses back.
"I can feel how stiff you are, idiot." He's silent for a beat, so Keith continues, voice kinder. "You've got this, Lance. Just relax."
"Thanks."
They don't have time to talk more because Coran's hit play and Elderbrook's Could starts playing.
As soon as the opening beats start, they both still, suddenly focused. Keith feels the music crawl beneath his skin, tugging on the strings of his muscle memory. He doesn't have to think. It's just another run through. Just another time they dance to this song. He knows it, and he knows he can do this. The anxiety and nervousness that had built up with the wait and anticipation ooze out of him, leaving him laser focused. Despite the adrenaline that's spiking his blood stream, he feels eerily calm.
The lyrics start and the two of them lean quickly to the side before jerking back to lean forward, their arms splaying apart. Then they're leaning back, arms locking once again. They both kick their back feet out, bending them at the knees as they lower their weight and bouncing a little as it settles. They hold it for a second, before there's quicker motion. They put their feet down, arms unlocking and in the air. They pose them up in the air, turning their heads forward as their wrists rotate their fists. Then with the beat, they're going through a series of poses: Lance leans forward as Keith leans back, then Keith bends forward as Lance leans back, going back and forth and gesturing with their hands.
One beat of a pause, then legs are kicked out. They rotate, dancing around each other, backs always to each other even as they step and spin, kick out and rotate. They stop after a short spin, backs to each other. They go through several moves, gesturing with their legs and their arms. And while Lance's back is to Keith, he knows Lance is perfectly in time with him. He can feel it. When Lance puts his mind to it, Keith knows he can trust him to sync up with him. It's an uncanny ability that Keith appreciates.
They come together, Keith facing the audience and Lance's back to it. They have a hand on each other's shoulder and their free hands on their hips. Then Keith lifts his hand to Lance's shoulder, spinning him around.
As soon as they're both facing forward, their feet are in motion with the new beat. Keith doesn't focus on the audience in front of him. He focuses on his body, his movements, and Lance beside him. The movements are quick, fitted in with slower movements to mix it up. There's a lot of hand motions, tiny feet movements, and then they jump, slow and controlled, landing with right knees bent and left legs extended, arms eventuating the diagonal.
They inch up, spin, and then Keith freezes as Lance continues, dancing several quick moves that Keith is fairly certain are improvised. They change every time. Keith counts the beats, and then Lance has frozen and it's Keith's turn to move. To be honest, the moments of dance exchanges weren't part of Keith's original vision. But Lance has insisted and Keith had given in, if only because they only had less than two weeks to prepare and those were just moments they didn't have to coordinate together.
After Keith's moment, they come back together, quick small movements and bigger slow ones, hips moving and bodies shaking. They go down to the ground, executing a few poses with their legs as their arms hold them up before they rotate their feet under them, jumping back up.
The rest of the dance passes in a blur. Keith doesn't think, he just acts. There are a few times where Lance obviously stumbles over the choreography, but he recovers quickly. He manages to improvise for a few steps in such a way that it looks natural before fitting back in with Keith. Keith sends him a few looks, but Lance isn't look at him. He's face is set in a rare expression of concentration.
They end very similar to how they started: back to back, making different poses before locking arms and stopping as the song ends.
They're still for a moment before the audience starts applauding. Amongst them, he can hear Pidge, Hunk, and Allura the most. They let go of each other, stepping apart. Keith looks over at their friends, and he's nearly taken aback by the looks he finds there. Hunk looks ecstatic, sitting up straight and clapping loudly as he shouts. Pidge is on their feet next to him, hands on his shoulders and jumping up and down as they grin. Allura's smile splits her face as she leans forward to clap loudly, putting a hand to her mouth as she cheers. When she meets Keith's eye, she winks. Shiro is next to her, clapping and smiling and practically glowing with his proud brother expression. Even Coran is smiling, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes to get his phone.
He's startled when there's suddenly an arm around his shoulders, steering him to face the crowd. Lance bows, forcing him to bow with him. When Keith looks sideways at him, his smile is wide, eyes and hair wild. There's a flush on his cheeks, and he's panting a little. And he looks so incredibly happy.
Keith feels something inside him stir, and no, that is not okay. It's gotta just be the exhilaration of dancing, especially in front of a crowd. He won't accept anything else.
"Don't let this go to your head," Keith says, because he can't bring himself to encourage Lance's smile right now. He's not ready to face that. "I saw you fuck up several times."
Lance gasps loudly, putting his free hand to his chest and leaning his head away to look at Keith. His arm is still around his shoulders. "Why I never! Keith, how dare you insinuate that I was nothing short of perfect."
Keith rolls his eyes, putting a hand on Lance's face to push him away and off of him. "Calm down, Beyonce. We won't know if we made it until tomorrow."
Lance stumbles away a step. "Aww, Keith, you think I dance like Beyonce. That's so sweet." He coos.
Keith turns to walk back toward their friends, flipping him off over his shoulder. He can hear Lance cackling as he follows.
------------------------------------------------
[ MONDAY ]
Keith would be lying if he said he isn't nervous as he pulls into his usual parking space that afternoon.
It's a really strange feeling, and mostly because he's not entirely sure where it stems from.
It would be dumb to think auditions don't have anything to do with it. Obviously that's been weighing heavily on his mind. It's the whole anticipation thing again. He doesn't exactly care if they make it or not. He knows they did their best, and yeah, it could be fun to go to regionals, and yeah, it would probably be good for him, but if they didn't make it, they didn't make it. There's nothing he can do about it now.
But the anticipation of waiting to find out if they made it or not is slowly killing his peace of mind.
And who the hell is he kidding, he really kind of wants to go to regionals now. He's kind of built himself up to the idea. And yeah, okay, so working with Lance of all people for a while has the potential to be absolutely horrible, but he thinks the good will outweigh the bad. Plus they worked so hard. It would be disappointing to not make it. He'd move on, of course, but he'd be disappointed.
But as much as the outcomes of auditions is bothering him, he doesn't think that's entirely the cause of his current nerves. It just... doesn't feel right. He didn't get much sleep last night. His sleep was dotted with active dreams that he barely remembers. There was dancing, and his friends, and Lance's smile. God fuck, that stupid thing was haunting him, and he can't quite figure out why. He doesn't want to figure out why.
As he pulls his helmet off and runs his fingers through his hair, anticipation rolls in his gut. As he puts his helmet away and heads for the door to the studio, he's already coming up with reasons why it would be okay if they didn't make it. He wouldn't have to deal with choreographing something with Lance. He wouldn't have to deal with Lance's cocky ass attitude. He wouldn't have to stress over regionals. He could go back to choreographing and dancing for fun by himself. As he pulls the door open and steps inside, he feels like he might be sick.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
A whisper of doubt is fleeting in his mind, but definitely there. He pushes it aside. He's already made friends during this whole ordeal. Some of them are friends he had to begin with. It's not like they're going to ditch him if he doesn't make it to regionals. They'll still be there and still talk to him and still hang out with him. Lance will still bug him sometimes, right? He doesn't think Lance's stupid idea of a rivalry between them will allow him to ditch Keith altogether.
The main hallway is empty, but he can hear the chattering sounds coming from the front lobby where the bulletin board is. Where results would be posted. He listens closely as he nears, trying to pick out familiar voices.
He rounds the corner, and he pauses. There's a crowd in the front lobby, most of whom are gathered around the bulletin board. He spies his friends standing near the office door. All of them are there, and they're all smiling. Coran is talking with Allura and Shiro, who, Keith notices, are standing very close to each other. Like as close as they can without touching. God, his brother is infuriating. Pidge and Lance are standing next to them, talking animately with lots of expressions and hand gestures. Hunk stands near them, smiling as he listens to their exchange.
He's the first to see Keith. He looks up, and his smile widens as he gesture's to him. Keith lifts a hand in greeting just as Lance stiffens, straightening as he spins around. His eyes lock on Keith and suddenly his face is breaking out in the widest grin Keith's ever seen in his goddamn life.
"Keith!"
And suddenly Lance is there, charging across the lobby and wrapping Keith up in a rib bruising hug as he lifts him off his feet and spins around. It's strangely reminiscence of what he had done in the bookstore all those days ago. The tension in his gut relaxes just as his chest clenches, and oh fuck, no. No no no no. Keith is not doing this.
"Jesus fuck, Lance," Keith manages to grunt out when Lance puts him back on his feet and releases him, allowing his crushed lungs to draw in a shaky breath.
"Come on!" Lance wastes no time grabbing his arm, practically dragging him across the lobby. Keith stumbles after him before he regains his balance. Lance pushes through the crowd right up to the bulletin board.
"Lance, what are you—"
"Look." He says, dropping Keith's arm to point at the piece of paper that's pinned to the board. Then Keith realizes what he's looking at. The sheet of paper has two columns, one that's labeled "solos" and one that's labeled "duos". Lance is pointing to their names.
Keith barely has a chance to register this before Lance half turns to look back at him out of the corner of his eyes. They're half lidded, his lips curling into a small, confident smirk. He's practically oozing confidence, and while he's not bubbling with happiness anymore, it's still there. It's simmered down into something softer, more sincere, more genuine. Keith can see it in the crinkles around his eyes, in the way his blue irises spark, in the tilt of his smile and the soft flush in his cheeks.
"We did it." He says then, voice strangely soft amongst the chatter and excited shouts around them. But Keith can hear it loud and fucking clear. "We are a good team."
With an odd sense of detachment, Keith feels several things all at once. His face is warm, the heat crawling up his neck all the way to this ears. His chest is tight, and he can't seem to take in more than a shallow breath. His heart stutters in his chest before pounding into overdrive to compensate. A strange shocking thrill runs through him, from his chest to his toes.
And it's with this odd sense of detachment that Keith realizes three things.
One: these reactions have nothing to do with the fact that he made it to regionals.
Two: Lance Mc-fucking-Clain is absolutely and indisputably fucking gorgeous.
Three: he, Keith Kogane, is so completely and totally fucked.
Notes:
Well it's 1:44 in the morning. Please kill me.