Archive of Our Own

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Lance opened the door to the studio like he did every morning. He stepped foot into the lobby, walking towards the front desk where Shay was sitting behind the counter.

“Good morning!” Lance said. “How’s it hangin’?”

Shay looked up from her computer and smiled. “Oh hey, Lance!”.

Lance walked up to her desk to see what she was doing. “Working on anything fun?” he asked.

“Well, the station has been getting lots of fan-mail lately, so I’ve been tasked with the job of organizing it all.” She gestured towards the boxes of letters at her feet and the hundreds of other letters on her desk.

“Any fan-mail for me?” he asked, barely containing his excitement. Working part-time at one of the biggest college radio stations in the state had its perks, and this was definitely one of them. Shay playfully rolled her eyes and handed him a smaller box filled with letters and little packages.

“Ah, thank you! I’ll make sure that Hunk buys you something pretty later!” he yelled back at her as he jogged towards his office.

Ok, so Lance called it his office, but in reality it was just a small storage room that had been reserved for him when he started working at the radio station. In the beginning, all the walls were bare and there were a ton of old records that needed to be relocated. But slowly the room started to feel more and more like home. In the middle of the room was a little desk where he wrote the script for his show every week. On the wall to the right of the desk was a huge bulletin board where he could keep track of all the new advancements in science and technology that he could talk about. And to the left was probably his favorite part about the entire room: the fan-mail wall. There, he taped every single letter and picture that he received.

Working only part-time, his own show aired biweekly on Fridays. It was a giant mish-mash of all the things he loved the most: science, pop culture, and music. Every episode had a science and technology section, where he talked about cool new advancements in the field, and a pop culture section, where he talked about the hottest new trends and celebrity gossip. You’d think that such a disjointed podcast wouldn’t do very well, but it was actually the complete opposite. Even though his show aired every other week on a college radio station, it was one of the most popular shows in the state.

Lance set the box down and got to work, opening each letter and package one by one, taking his time to read through them and appreciate the little gifts his listeners sent. He often got lots of letters talking about how this podcast caused his listeners to start studying science and technology on their own since he always made that segment of his show sound so cool. Today, a big sister had sent in a thank-you note, thanking him for creating a show she could listen to with her younger sister. Lance’s heart swelled with joy as he thumbtacked the note to his wall. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door which threw him out of his trance. There, with one arm leaning against the door frame, was Nyma.

She was a pretty girl. Her golden hair was permanently pulled back in two high pigtails, and she had a lean build. Nyma was also really sweet and kind, but there was something off and unsettling about her. Lance always thought it was just her eyes; they were so dark they almost looked black.

Nyma sauntered in, smiling at him.

“Hey, any news on that new music?” Lance asked her. She sat down on the floor in front of him, holding up her phone.

“I just finished it,” she said proudly. “Want to listen?”

Lance nodded his head eagerly and smiled as Nyma pressed play. As soon as she did, a sweet melody started playing through her phone. It started off with just a couple of flutes, but slowly it builded, gaining more and more instruments every couple of seconds. There were violins, cellos, flutes, a piano, and other instruments that Lance couldn’t recognize. When the song was over, he beamed at Nyma, giving her one of his signature toothy grins.

“That was amazing!” he gushed. “How did you do it?”

“Oh please, it was easy,” answered Nyma as she stood up from the ground. “Really, it’s just your basic
Mixolydian mode in g-flat. That’s what makes it sound so cool.” She laughed when she caught sight of Lance’s confused face. “You have no idea what that means, do you?” Nyma smirked, not unkindly, per se, but definitely with the air of someone that thought they were better than you.

Lance shrugged. “No, not really. But if you’d let me take you out sometime, we could talk all about it over dinner?” he asked. Nyma just laughed again.

“I’ll send this track to your sound engineers.” she said as she walked out of the room. Lance frowned a little to himself, but before he could think about it for too long, Pidge walked into the room.

“Hey Lance, how’s the script going for your show? You know that you’re on in two hours, right?” Lance rolled his eyes at them.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Also, I’ve been done with it for a day now, thank you.” Pidge smirked and went to sit down next to him.

“So, loverboy, what’s the topic of your show this week?” they asked.

Lance felt himself go all red in the face. “You heard that?” he asked, hoping they would say no. But this was Pidge.

“Oh, you bet!” the said gleefully. “That interaction just marked your 23rd attempt to ask her out.” Lance groaned, hiding his face in his sleeve, making Pidge cackle even more.

“What do you want, Pidge?” he asked, too embarrassed to look at them in the eye when he finally took his face out of the crook of his arm.

Pidge shrugged. “I was just wondering what you were gonna talk about on this week’s show.” they answered, drying the tears from their eyes. Lance opened his computer and pulled up the script.

“Well, I was thinking of comparing classical music to today’s contemporary classical. As for my science and technology segment, I wanted to talk about the super blue blood moon that’s coming, and then I’m also obviously going to talk about the upcoming Oscars, as well as the entire timeline of Kylie Jenner’s possible pregnancy and everything we know about it so far.”

“Lance, how are you gonna compare classical and contemporary classical music if you only have a basic understanding of music theory?” they asked.

“Oh shut up, Pidge. Just because I don’t know what Mixel-blah-blah-blah means doesn’t mean I can’t talk about this subject. And anyway, I had Nyma help me while I was writing this part of the episode.” he added quietly.

“Oh yeah! That was attempt number 22, right?” Pidge asked, laughing again as Lance hid his face in his arm once more.

“Pidge, don’t you have something to do, like checking the microphones or something? The show starts in an hour and fifty minutes.”

They stood up, yawning. “Hunk and I already checked everything. Now we’re just waiting.”

“Speaking of, where’s Hunk?” asked Lance.

“Probably with his girlfriend in the lobby.” Pidge lowered their voice and leaned close to Lance. “You know, I be they’re talking abo-”

“Alright, Pidge! That’s enough. Seriously, how are you only sixteen?”

Pidge just smirked at him again. “Are you kidding?” they asked. “Sixteen is the perfect age to be making these jokes.”

“Yeah, yeah, ok fine. Go harass someone else.” With that, Lance shoved a cackling Pidge out of his office.

…
 
Finally, almost two hours later, Lance was sitting in his beloved recording room, ready to start. He could see Hunk and Pidge on the other side of the large glass window separating them. Pidge was working the soundboard today, and Hunk was hovering over them, making sure that everything was ok. The big clock on the wall counted down the seconds before he was allowed to talk.

“Alright, buddy! You’re going live in ten, nine, eight…” Lance could hear Hunk’s voice through his headset. As soon as Hunk hit the number one, Lance started speaking into the microphone, his voice filling the small recording room.

“Hello and welcome everybody to this week’s episode of Pop Goes the Musicology! I’m your host, Lance McClain, and I’ve got a great show for you today!” Lance went on for a while, first talking about the astronomical phenomenon, then moving on to his pop culture segment. He cracked jokes, sometimes went off script, and always looked to see Pidge and Hunk laughing behind the glass window. This is why he loves his job, he thought to himself. Yeah, having his own podcast in his state’s biggest college radio station was great, but knowing that he had the power to make people laugh and be happy as well… that was even better.

“And that brings us to the end of the first part of our show folks. Stay tuned, because after commercials we’re talking about one of my favorite things, music! Remember, you’re listening to PMG on your favorite radio station, Radio Voltron!”

He glanced over at Hunk as he gave him the thumbs-up sign, signaling that the commercials were on. Lance took off his headset and carefully placed them on the table before he opened the door and walked out. Commercials meant a five-minute break, and after sitting down for half an hour, a chance to walk around a little bit was nice.

“Hey man, nice show so far.” said Hunk. He slapped his best friend on the back as Lance grinned.

“Yes, I also agree that it’s a lovely show.” It was a female voice, talking with a slight British accent. Lance turned to see Allura making her way into the room.

Nyma was pretty, but Allura was beautiful. Her long, silvery hair was gorgeous in contrast to her dark skin, and her eyes were mesmerizing. They were blue, with specks of purple floating around her iris. Lance had never seen something as ethereal before.

He stood there, staring at her with his mouth slightly open. Being the owner of Radio Voltron, she was always hidden in her office, so Lance rarely got to see her. But when he did… wow.

Hunk smiled sheepishly and elbowed Lance. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure, and hoping that Allura didn’t notice he was staring.

“Allura! I didn’t know you were listening to my show,” said Lance.

“Of course I was listening in!” she laughed slightly, her voice like music. “I was interested to know more about the moon thing.”

“So, what  brings you here to this side of the building?” Hunk asked.

“I’m just going around, making sure that everyone is doing their job,” she said. “How’s that composer girl we hired four months ago?”

“Nyma? Oh, she’s great! She always composes a new piece for me every other week, and I always use her songs in my shows.” Lance said.

Allura clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. “Oh good, I’m glad. You know, when Steve retired I was so worried about finding another composer to work on the music for your show.” she said.

Lance remembered Steve. He was a great guy, and he always wrote the most beautiful compositions for his show.

“I was so surprised when Nyma said she could write the music for you, Lance,” Allura continued. “Originally I had hired her to work on Rolo’s show. You know, to make rock music.”

Lance nodded. Rolo was another guy that had his own radio show here. He mostly talked about what was happening in the punk scene, and as a result, he played lots of punk and rock music.

“Yeah, I don’t know how she does it.” replied Pidge. “Rock and classical music are two completely different genres. And it’s strange that she was able to make the jump so quickly, especially since she told me that she had never really written classical type music before.”

Lance was about to say something else, but then Hunk gave him the 30-second warning, and he hurriedly returned to the recording booth.

Hunk started the countdown, and when he got to one Lance opened his mouth to welcome back the listeners. Throughout the segment, Lance played portions of music composed by your typical Mozart and Beethoven, as well as some modern composers like Yiruma and Sofia Gubaidulina, peppering in some pieces written by Nyma herself. Halfway through the segment, the phone inside the room started ringing.

“A caller!” Lance exclaimed as he picked up the phone. “Hello, welcome to PMG. I’m your host Lance McClain, and you are now live! What’s your name?”

Lance felt the caller hesitate for a split second before the voice on the other end awkwardly said “Keith.”

“Hello, Keith! What are you calling for?”

The person on the other end hesitated again, but this time when they spoke they spoke with more confidence.

“I was just wondering… if I wanted to send fan-mail, what address would I send it to?”

Lance looked over and Hunk and Pidge as he answered, as if to say

see? I’m popular.

“So Keith, what were you thinking of sending me? A letter? A picture? Maybe even a little gift?” Lance inquired.

“Uh, it’s definitely something unexpected.” Keith said, and with that, they hung up the phone. Lance shrugged, but he didn’t think too much about it. Weird people called his show all the time, so this didn’t faze him too much.

When his show ended, he walked out of the recording room and high-fived Hunk and Pidge as they started to put things away. Another successful show, he thought to himself. When they were done packing, the three of them got their jackets and then walked into the main lobby together. Every Friday when his show was over, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge always went to get a celebratory lunch together. Sometimes, Hunk would try and convince Shay to come as well. This was one of those days. Lance and Pidge were sitting on one of the couches together, sending each other memes as Hunk was talking to Shay. Everything was completely normal. Until, suddenly, a boy with a mop of dark hair on his head opened the doors, letting in a wave of cold January air. He was wearing a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath. His tight, black jeans were all ripped, and his combat boots were covered in snow.

“How is he not freezing?” murmured Pidge under their breath as they watched this mysterious boy make his way over to the front desk. Lance stood up instinctively and walked over to where Hunk and Shay were talking to this boy, both of them looking mildly concerned.

“What’s the matter?” asked Lance when he got there. The boy turned to face Lance, his face angry.

“Are you Lance?” he asked, his voice sounding familiar.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

The boy took a deep breath, steadying himself, then looked at Lance dead in the eye before continuing.

“My name is Keith, and you’re stealing my music, asshole.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lance took a step back. “What do you mean I’m stealing your music?” he asked defensively, his face hot.

“I mean exactly that! And actually, you’ve been stealing my music for the past two months!” Keith said, flailing his arms.

“No I haven’t!” yelled Lance, starting to get agitated. “Every time I play music on my shows I always give credit! And anyway, I only play good music!” he added, looking Keith up and down.

Keith looked baffled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he yelled. Lance took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact.

“I mean that I would never play music written by some greasy hobo such as you!” Behind them, Lance could hear both Hunk and Shay gasp, but Keith remained stolid. Before either of them could continue, Allura’s voice interrupted them, prompting both of the boys to look her way.

“Lance, what is going on here?” she asked. He looked over at Keith, but for the first time in five minutes, the other boy’s gaze was somewhere else. Keith sighed slightly and walked over to Allura calmly, as if he hadn’t been screaming at the top of his lungs five seconds ago.

“You must be Ms. Altea, the owner of this station.” Allura smiled at him.

“You are correct. What’s your name?”

“Keith.”

“Keith. Right, well why don’t you step into my office and we’ll chat for a while.” She turned around and started walking away, without looking back to see if Keith was following. He quickly blew Lance a raspberry and quickened his pace in order to walk side-to-side with Allura, when suddenly she stopped in her tracks, causing him to bump into her.

“Actually, Lance, why don’t you come with us. From what I heard this conversation concerns you as well.” Lance could see Keith roll his eyes from where he stood. “Of course,” he said, as he followed Allura and Keith into her office.

Once there, Lance and Keith were forced to sit next to each other on one side of the desk as she sat on the other, looking at both of them disapprovingly.

“First of all, I just want to say that getting into an argument in the lobby is not the best way to handle things. Lance, you know that you should always call me if there is a problem.” Lance didn’t make eye contact with her. This “chat” was beginning to feel more and more like a trip to the principal’s office from back in elementary school.

Allura turned to Keith. “Now, start from the beginning, please. And speak calmly.” she added, seeing the face he made at Lance.

Keith smirked but remained composed as he told his story. “You see, yesterday my motorcycle broke down, so I sent it in to get repaired. This morning I needed to go to the library, so I took my brother’s car. He really likes your radio station, and anyways, I don’t know how to change it, so I ended up listening to Lance’s show. For a while, everything was fine, until he got to the segment comparing contemporary classical and classical music, at which point I realized he was playing my music as an example. So I waited for him to say something about the artist, but he never said my name. All he did was credit some person named Nyma. Anyways, after that happened, I looked back at some of his older episodes, and I discovered that for the past two months, he’s been using my music and saying that it’s written by the same Nyma as before.” Keith crossed his legs and put one elbow on the desk before continuing. “So I called in to find out the address of the station, and here we are.”

Allura slowly nodded her head. “Is there any way to prove that this music actually belongs to you?” she asked.

Keith exhaled, seemingly annoyed at the question. “Of course,” he said as he pulled out his phone. “This is my youtube channel where I’ve been posting my music for the past five years. Take a listen.” He clicked play on one of the videos, and a sweet melody started filling the air. Lance recognized it immediately as the song that Nyma showed him that morning.

“No way,” he muttered under his breath, slumping slightly into his chair.

“And that’s not all,” continued Keith. “See this piece here?” he clicked play on a different song. It took Lance a little bit to recognize it, but eventually, once the song reached its peak he was able to remember it as a song that Nyma had shown him a couple of weeks ago. That day they were both sitting on the floor of his office. Nyma was showing off on her guitar and Lance just remembered looking at her with stars in his eyes. She had caught him staring and she laughed as his face became all flushed once the realization hit him. She then pulled out her phone and started playing this exact song, telling him about how it only took a couple of hours to come up with. Lance had looked up at her again, in complete awe.

But now he realized that she had just done it to hear Lance gush about her. God, he felt like an idiot.

“I wrote this song as a freshman in college for one of my composition classes.” Keith said. “My professor liked it so much that he had the orchestra do it for one of their concerts. I was even allowed to conduct it that time.” Keith pulled up another video, this time clearly a home video of a concert. He could see Keith walk up to the stage, wearing a tuxedo that was just slightly too big for him. In the background, you could hear the person filming yell “go Keith!” as he turned around and started conducting.

Allura sighed as she touched the back of her neck. “Keith, how long did you say this has been going on for?” she asked.

“About two months.”

“And how long has Nyma been composing for your show?” she turned to ask Lance, one eyebrow raised.

“For about two months,” he answered.

“Well then, case closed,” Allura said, smiling forcibly. “You see, four months ago I hired a girl named Nyma to compose original rock music for another show.” she explained to Keith.

“Earlier we had a guy named Steve compose classical music for shows such as Lance’s, but two months ago he retired. I asked Nyma if she was willing to try writing classical music, rather than look for a new composer, so I guess some of this is my fault.” she said, blushing slightly.

“But I still don’t understand. Why would she steal my music?” Keith asked, sitting back in his chair. Allura shrugged. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Lance, why don’t you go find her and bring her here? I’d like to talk with her as well.”

“Right.” Lance stood slowly from his chair and walked out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he could hear the two talking.

It was 2 p.m., meaning that Nyma was probably with Rolo in the recording studio, working on some new music for his show. Lance walked in, and sure enough there they were. Rolo was inside the recording booth, playing the drums, while Nyma was outside, listening with her headphones. Lance tapped her on the shoulder, and she lazily turned around to look at him.

“What do you want?” she asked without taking her headphones off. “I’m working.”

“Allura wants to see you.” At that, she perked up and slid her headphones down so that they hung around her neck.

“Do you know what for?” she asked. Lance shrugged.

“Oh, I don’t know. It probably has to do with the fact that you’ve been stealing some other guy’s music for like two months.” he said, a twinge of anger in his voice.

Nyma quietly swore under her breath before fully taking her headphones off. The two of them walked together to Allura’s office, Nyma dragging her feet behind her. When they got there, Lance opened the door for her and they both walked in, taking their seats across the desk from Allura.

“Nyma. You must be wondering why you’re here.” Allura said, voice slightly unkind. Nyma just stood silent.

“This here is Keith,” Allura continued. “While Lance went to fetch you, he showed me some of his other music that he wrote and posted online three years ago, well before you started working here. Keith, would you mind playing this one? It’s quite lovely.” Keith obeyed, pressing play on Allura’s laptop. A fast-paced flute sound filled the room, accompanied by other flutes, and eventually some strings.

Lance recognized this piece as the same one that Nyma claimed to have written the first time she started working on his show.

“Keith, just out of curiosity, when was this song published to your social media accounts?” asked Allura.

“This one was published two years ago.” answered Keith, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Nyma, you said you spent all week writing that song,” said Lance, incredulous. “Why did you lie?”

She immediately started to sob. “Because I have no idea how to write this kind of music!” she said in between cries. “When Allura came to me after Steve retired, she said I’d get a raise in my salary if I could write classical music as well, and I’m a college student! What the hell was I supposed to do, pass up on the offer? So I did some digging and I found Keith, and I said to myself, ‘huh, this guy is very unknown. No one will notice if I use his music!’ Obviously, I was wrong.” She shot Keith an angry, tear-stained look.

“I’ll have you know that I’m not ‘unknown’” replied Keith indignantly. “I have an average of 1500 monthly listeners on Spotify!”

“Regardless, what you did is illegal, Nyma. It’s called plagiarism, and it’s something that I take very seriously.” said Allura, cutting in.

“Please don’t take me to trial!” Nyma cried out. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I promise!” She had turned to face Keith when she said this, dropping her face into his shoulder.

“I’m not gonna pursue any legal matters,” Keith said as he pushed her head off his shoulder.

Lance looked up at him, confused. “Dude, are you serious?” he asked.

“Listen, Lance, as much as I’d love to send her to jail for fraud, I simply don’t have the money for the legal fees.” he sighed.

“You are, however, fired. Effective immediately.” Allura piped in.

Nyma blinked.“That’s all?” she asked hesitantly, all her tears already gone.

“Unless you

want

him to take you to trial.” Nyma quickly shook her head.

“No, of course not. Thank you.” She stood up and walked towards the door, but before she could leave, Keith spoke.

“Be warned,” he said. “This is just your first warning. If you continue to steal my music or do it ever again, next time I won’t hesitate.” The two locked eyes for a second, before she disappeared out of the room.

“Now what are you going to do?” asked Lance after she slammed the door shut. He could feel himself slip down his chair. “Lots of podcasts need original music, not just my own. How are you going to find another composer to take her place in such a short amount of time?”

Allura smiled. “Luckily for everyone, I offered Keith the position. It’s only fair, really, since he was even kind enough to not pursue legal action against anyone here.”

Lance was shocked. “Wait, you’re gonna hire him, just like that? I mean, he’s already proven to be able to write classical music, but what if he can’t write rock music? Huh? Are we just gonna have another repeat of what just happened?” Lance saw Keith roll his eyes.

“Besides knowing how to play violin, piano, and flute, I also know how to play guitar and bass. Back in middle school, my brother and I had a band, where we exclusively played rock music from the 80s and 90s. I have also composed a couple of pieces for various local rock bands,

and

if you’re still not convinced, I also have a lot of original punk/rock music that is on all my social media for the world to see. In short, I think I’m qualified.” Keith got up from his chair and walked out, the implication of a mic drop hanging in the air all around him.

Lance turned to Allura. “I can’t work with him.” he said.

“And why not?” asked Allura, smiling.

“I called him a greasy hobo!” he cried. “Keith probably doesn’t like me. How am I supposed to work with him now?”

Allura raised her eyebrow, a smile still plastered on her face. “Just apologize, Lance. He’s not as bad as you think he is.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Lance, just go.”

“Pidge, I can’t do it!”

It was 5 p.m. on a relatively warm Monday afternoon. It had been about a week since Nyma got fired, and it had been about a week since Lance refused to talk to Keith. Now, standing ten feet away from him on the other side of a long table, Lance held two coffees in his hands as Pidge pushed him forward.

“You’ll be fine,” they said. “Just go up to him and offer to take him out for dinner as an apology.”

“It’s not as easy as you think it is!” protested Lance. Pidge stopped trying to shove him and looked at him square in the eye. “Look Lance,” they started. “I’m not asking you to become best friends with this guy. All I’m saying is that you need to apologize

now,

because sooner or later you’re going to need to work with him for your show.”

“What if I just write my own music instead?” he asked, giving Pidge a small smile, but they just rolled their eyes and started shoving him again.

“There’s a reason you’re majoring in marine biology and not music composition, Lance. Now go!” As they said this, they gave Lance one last shove, hurling him forward a couple of steps. As he bumped into the desk where Keith was working, the other boy quizzically looked up from his computer.

“What do you want?” he asked, taking off his headphones. His voice wasn’t unkind, but the look on his face wasn’t very promising either. Lance cleared his throat.

“I got you a coffee,” he said, holding out one hand. Keith looked at the cup in his hands skeptically, as if Lance might have poisoned it, but much to Lance’s surprise he took it.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, so I just got it black. I also brought some cream and sugar packets just in case you want them. Unless of course, you drink your coffee black, then you don’t need those!” Lance was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. He did that when he was nervous, and now standing in front of Keith, knowing that soon he would have to apologize, made him very nervous.

Keith regarded him carefully before taking a sip of his coffee. “Black is my favorite, actually.” he said, a small smile on his face. Lance smiled back, suddenly feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“So… I’m sorry about calling you a greasy hobo the other day. I don’t really mean it.” Lace said. The tips of his ears burned red as he continued. “I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner after your shift today? You know, to apologize. There’s a great pizza place nearby.”

To his surprise, Keith started laughing. “Don’t worry about the hobo thing, I’ve been called worse,” Keith said. “And hey, if you’re paying, I’m down for free dinner.” He took another sip of his coffee and put his headphones back on, a smile still lingering on his lips.

Great.

Lance thought.

Now what?

Lance stood there for a while longer before finally deciding to leave, but just as he turned around, Keith said his name.

“Lance, are you doing anything important right now?” he asked. Lance turned back to see that Keith’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes still glued to his screen.

“No, why do you ask?” he inquired as he went around the table to stand next to the other boy.

“I’ve been working on this song for ages but I’m stuck. Can you give it a listen for me?” Lance nodded his head and accepted the headphones that Keith handed to him. As Keith pressed play, a chorus of violins and cellos filled his ears. The music started out soft but gradually grew and grew, the melody sweet and the harmonies light. But just as suddenly as the music started, it ended abruptly. Lance looked down at Keith and took off the headphones once he realized Keith was talking to him.

“I’m not quite sure where to go next in the song,” Keith said. “I

could

go to the diminished seventh here if I really wanted to, but the question is, do I? Those tend to sound a bit twangy. Oh, and it also depends on my melody. See, I just don’t know if I want to make this part soft again, or if I want it to be really loud… I don’t know, what do you think?” He looked over at Keith expectantly. Lance blinked at him a couple of times, his mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, but what did any of that mean?” he asked. Instead of responding, Keith turned back to his screen and sighed. Lance stood there for two minutes as Keith talked to himself underneath his breath. Finally, Keith broke the silence.

“Follow me.” he said. He stood up from his chair and walked away, turning around once to make sure that Lance was following him.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just to my recording studio.” Keith snickered as he said it.

“What do you mean? There’s like three recording studios in this building, but all of them are currently being used for the podcasts.” said Lance, confused.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” answered Keith as he started walking down a staircase Lance didn’t even know existed. “Allura explained to me that when her father first built this place, he added an extra recording studio in the basement, just in case. But no one uses it today because it’s not as nice as the others. Now it’s mainly used as a storage closet, but Allura told me I could use it.” He stopped in front of an old-looking recording room. Sure enough, there was a little bit of everything in there: towers of boxes, filing cabinets, even what looked to be decades-old clothes. Keith took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As soon as he did, a strong, musty smell hit both of them like a slap to the face. Waving his hand in front of his face, Keith stepped in first and turned on the lights. Lance walked in after him, taking in the sight. Now that the lights were on, he could see that the place didn’t look as bad as he had originally thought. Keith walked up to a large, black bag and unzipped it to uncover an acoustic guitar. The body was red and it had a black neck. Lance could tell that it was old because of all the scratches on it, and the fading polish.

“This is from when I was young,” Keith started. “It’s old but trustworthy. I never use it anymore, so I thought I’d just stash it here.” He sat down on the floor and looked expectantly at Lance, who was still waiting in the doorway. He patted the ground next to him, signaling that Lance should sit down. Lance did as he was told, and soon enough they were sitting across from each other,

“Ok, so this is how the song goes.” Keith played what he showed to Lance upstairs on his guitar, somehow managing to play all of the parts. “Now tell me which ending you like better.” Again, Keith played the same song as before but with a short and sweet ending, a perfect match to the rest of the song. Next, he played an ending that was tense and didn’t resolve for a bit, but it made the song sound much more interesting than the first ending.

“So, what do you think?” he asked. “Which ending do you prefer?”

Lance shook his head and smiled. “Those were both great, Keith.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m flattered, but that’s not helpful.”

Lance thought silently for a minute. “Well, what’s the mood of the script? I think you want an ending that matches the emotions of the podcast, you know?”

Keith reflected for a couple of seconds. “Well, if I remember correctly, in this part they’re talking about their new puppy…” He trailed off, lost in thought.

“Well, if that’s the case, I would go with the first ending.” Lance replied.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really seem right. I’m not sure.” He looked up at Lance.

“You know what? Why don’t you take a break? Maybe some time off will do you good.” Lance stood up and whipped out his phone. “Let’s have a little dance break or something. Those always help me focus. What kind of music are you into?”

“Oh, I don’t dance,” he replied. “How about you tell me what song to play on this guitar and then

you

can dance?”

“That’s not as fun,” said Lance. “Alright, let’s do this: you play and I’ll sing. Ok?”

Keith scratched the back of his neck. “I guess so.”

“Perfect! Let’s see…what kind of music are you into?”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know. I listen to a lot of different music.”

Lance sighed. “Alright, fine then. Uhm, I’m sure you know some Fleetwood Mac, right?”

Keith smirked. “Of course I know some Fleetwood Mac songs.”

“Alright, perfect! How about Rhiannon?” 
Keith gave him a little shrug but started to play the song anyways. Lance took a deep breath and prepared himself to sing. Halfway through the song, Lance looked over at Keith as he was singing, and he saw that the other boy had a smile plastered all over his face. As the song went on, Keith interjected during the choruses to sing the little harmonies, and he improvised during the guitar solos, When the song was over, Lance just looked at Keith, absolutely speechless. 
“Where’d you learn to sing like that?” asked Keith. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lance waved his hand at him.  “I have lots of siblings and small nieces and nephews, so I get a lot of practice. The real question is, how did you learn to

play

like that? You were amazing!”

Keith shrugged him off. “My grandfather is a composer, so growing up I learned to play lots of different instruments.”

“Is your grandfather the reason why you’re a composer too?” Lance asked.

“Yes,” Keith answered frankly. “I really looked up to him, growing up. In a way, he saved my life, you know? So I thought that the best way to honor him would be to carry on his craft.” Keith put the guitar down.

“I must say, you’re nothing like what I expected you to be.” Lance declared. Keith turned to face him. “What do you mean?” he asked, looking confused.

“Not in a bad way!” interjected Lance quickly. “I just mean that when I first met you, you were so

angry.

Oh, and then you were wearing all these clothes that made you seem like a ‘bad boy’, like the kind that you see on television.” Keith frowned at him. “But today was really wonderful because I was scared that you weren’t going to accept my apology, or that you might but you wouldn’t be so nice. Instead, you’re like a great person. I mean, I know that I haven’t even known you for a full day yet, but you’re cool.” he added hastily.

“I’m...cool?”

“Yeah. Like, you’re really nice. I like you.”

Keith looked as if he were about to say something when he abruptly picked the guitar back up again and played the song that he had written, but this time with an entirely different ending that Lance hadn’t heard before.

“This is it!” Keith shouted joyfully. “This is it. I found it!” He turned to look at Lance. “You must be my muse!” he laughed, half to himself and half with Lance. The other boy opened his mouth but was cut off when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Is anyone there?” a familiar voice called. Lance walked out of the recording room to see Hunk carrying a couple of boxes.

“Hey Hunk, what’s up?” he asked.

“Allura just asked me to bring these boxes down here. What are you doing?”

“I was just helping Keith finish writing his song.” He turned around and motioned to Keith to come forward and say hi. Keith reluctantly got off the floor and walked to stand beside Lance.

“Hey, Keith!” Hunk said, voice warm and welcoming as always. Keith muttered a greeting back.

Lance’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Damn, what time is it?” he asked. Hunk looked down at his watch. “It’s just about 6:30.” he said. Lance turned to look at Keith.

“So, when are you done? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

“I mean, I guess I’m technically done now. If you just give me twenty minutes to record this quickly so I don’t forget, I’ll be done by then.”

Lance nodded an OK as Keith walked back into the recording studio, this time closing the door behind him.

“Hey, Keith and I were gonna go grab some pizza. Wanna join?” he asked Hunk.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “I’m going over to Shay’s after this, so I’ll be having dinner at her apartment.

“Aw c’mon, Hunk, you know she’s welcome to tag along too.”

Hunk laughed softly. “Of course man. It’s just that today’s her mom’s birthday, so we’re all celebrating together. Next time though, ok?” He placed the boxes down. “Speaking of, I should probably head out now. See you later!” Hunk gave Lance a little fist bump as he left.
 
---
 
Twenty minutes later, Keith emerged from the recording studio. Lance was sitting on the ground, his back to the wall.

“Ready to go?” asked Keith. “I’m starting to get hungry as well.”

Lance grinned up at him as he slowly stood up. The two made their way back upstairs, and soon enough they were heading out into the cold, January wind.

“We should probably take my car,” Lance said, his nose scrunched up from the cold. “Unless you wanna walk back.” Keith looked up at the sky and breathed in a slow, deep breath before he nodded in Lance’s direction, as if to say “yeah, ok.”

The two boys hopped into Lance’s car, parked just across the street from the radio building.

“Feel free to put on some music,” Lance said as he put on his seatbelt. “It’s only a ten-minute drive but listening to music is always fun.”

Keith clumsily looked for the aux cord, then plugged in his phone. “So, what do you listen to?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m really into Elton John at the moment.”

Keith looked over at him, a slightly shocked expression on his face. “Really? You seem like the type of guy that listens to more current music, like Childish Gambino or something.”

Lance stole a little look over at Keith as he drove. “Well yeah, don’t get me wrong. I love pop music, but lately I’ve really been feeling the classics.” He saw Keith give a little shrug as a small smile grew on his face. Soon enough,

Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

was blaring through his car speakers. Lance gave an excited yelp and started singing along. Well, more like he was screaming along. But he heard Keith give a soft laugh as he did so, which meant that he was enjoying himself too. Soon after the song ended, Lance parked the car and the two shuffled out, Lance hugging his arms around himself to try and protect from the cold.

They ordered a large pizza with fries, then went to sit down at one of the booths inside the restaurant. After they were settled in, Keith turned to him.

“So, what’s your deal?” he asked. “Aside from listening to old music and running a podcast, what do you do?”

“Well,” Lance started, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m currently studying marine biology at school.

Keith leaned in, cradling his face in his hands as he put his elbows on the table. “Why marine biology?”

Lance shrugged. “My family’s from Cuba, so I grew up near the sea. I don’t know, I guess I just like it.” he leaned back into his seat. “What about you? Music major, I’d assume?”

Keith nodded his head. “Yeah, I go to the conservatory in town.” Lance immediately perked up at this.

“Like,

the

conservatory in town? The ‘2% acceptance rate’ conservatory in town? The one where only the best of the best go? Sheesh.” he slumped down in his chair again. “You’re amazing, man.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Keith answered, looking a little flustered. “My grandfather had some connections so I probably had an easier time getting in than other people.” He took his elbows off the table and leaned back a bit.

“Still,” Lance said. “They wouldn’t’ve let you in if your audition sucked ass, no? Regardless of who you know.”

Before Keith could answer, the cashier came over to bring them their fries and drinks. Keith eagerly took his cup in his hands and started to play around with the lid.

“Enough about me,” he said finally. “Tell me about your family.”

Lance rubbed his hands together as he told Keith all about his big family. He had two older sisters and two older brothers, making him the youngest of five. His eldest sister, Veronica, was married and already had a couple children of her own, as well as some of his cousins. He told Keith all about his extended family, and how for the most part they all lived in Cuba. He told him about how he moved to the States when he was ten years old, because his father had gotten a job offer he couldn’t refuse. Veronica went on to become a successful engineer, and how she currently worked for NASA. His other sister had become an art teacher, and she moved out West when she graduated college. His brothers, twins, both studied journalism and were now working for some important newspapers. As he gushed about his family, the pizza arrived on their table, but Keith waited for Lance to finish talking before he grabbed a slice. When he was done, Keith gave him a soft smile.

“Your family sounds really cool.” he said, in between bites of pizza. Lance just nodded as he took his own slice.

“What about you? Any siblings?” he asked.

Keith put his pizza down and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Just one,” he said. “I’ve got an older brother, Shiro. Veronica would like him,” he looked up at Lance. “He’s currently working on his Ph.D. in astrophysics, so I think they’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Man, that’s sick!” yelled Lance, slightly too loud. Then, more quietly, “so that’s all? Just you, your brother, and your grandfather?”

Keith shrugged. “My brother’s fiancé is part of the family too, at this point.” Lance nodded.

“Your brother’s girlfriend must be super cool, to snag such a cool guy.” Keith laughed against his straw as he took a sip from his drink.

“Shiro, cool? Not really. The guy’s a huge nerd. Which I guess works out, because his boyfriend’s a huge nerd as well.”

Lance felt his ears go red with embarrassment. “Oh, sorry dude. I didn’t mean to assume.” Keith just waved him off.

“It’s fine, it happens all the time. One time, Shiro was getting interviewed for his university’s newspaper, and they called Adam his ‘friend’. Now

that

made him mad.” Lance relaxed a bit as Keith laughed at the thought.

“So, what about you? Any girlfriends, boyfriends?” he asked. Still smiling slightly, Keith shook his head.

“Nah. I’m too busy for that kind of stuff at the moment.” then, looking at Lance carefully, “You?”

Lance sighed, slightly embarrassed again. “The girl I was crushing on turned out to be a horrible person, so I think I’ll just work on myself for a bit.”

“Don’t tell me you mean Nyma.” Keith said, slightly incredulous. Lance’s ears turned an even warmer shade of red as he took another bite of pizza.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” Keith said, crossing his legs. “What’d you even see in her, anyway?”

Lance tugged at his ears. “I’m not really sure, now that you mention it.” he gave a small laugh. “I guess I just liked her confidence, you know? And every week she’d come up to me and show me the music that she had composed, or

said

she composed, and she made it all sound so easy. Like, anyone could do it. I dunno, I guess I thought she was cool.” he could feel Keith’s eyes on him.

“Anyways!” he said hastily, eager to change the subject. “Do you read any books?”

Keith’s nose scrunched up a bit before he answered. “To be totally honest, I haven’t actually read a book in a while.” seeing Lance’s expression, he added, “as I said, I’ve been busy lately.”

Lance just shook his head in utter disbelief. “No way, man. I’ll have to take you to the bookstore someday then.” Keith gave a small smile and shrugged.

The two talked some more as they ate their fill. Eventually, the two got up once they realized that the store was about to close soon. Keith went on to wait by the car as Lance asked for a pizza box to carry the leftovers in.

As he stepped foot outside the restaurant, the sound of someone yelling hit him before the coldness of the night air. Lance looked around the street to see who was yelling, but the street was completely empty. He heard another yell, this time accompanied by a loud thud, and he saw two figures standing by his car. He ran over as soon as he realized that it was Keith that had been slammed against the front of his car, another man grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, fist raised in the air.

Keith suffered a blow to the face before Lance could cross the street. The man lifted his fist again, spitting in Keith’s direction.

“Hey man, I’m calling the cops!” Lance yelled, his phone visible in his hand. The man looked up and smirked, but even in the darkness of the night, Lance could recognize him as Rolo. He let go of Keith’s shirt, then started to walk away as Lance got closer.

“That’s what you get for Nyma,” he shouted, not turning back to face them. “You’re a son of a bitch, Keith.”

Lance was about to yell something back until he felt a hand on his arm.

“Don’t bother,” Keith groaned, his free hand against his eye. He was sitting up now.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” asked Lance, worry dripping from his voice. He lifted Keith’s hand and saw blood.

“Dude, we gotta get you to a hospital.” He took a clean tissue out from his pocket and pressed it against Keith’s forehead. “Can you stand?”

Keith mumbled slightly under his breath, but he got up and made his way to the passenger seat, Lance hovering over him the entire time. Once he had his seatbelt on, Lance got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” he asked, after sitting for a couple of minutes in silence.

Keith groaned again. “No way. If Shiro found out he’d just get worried, and he has enough to deal with.”

Lance turned to look at Keith once they were at a red light. “Do you at least want me to call the cops? Rolo just assaulted you.”

Keith shook his head, eyes closed. “No. I don’t have time to deal with that.”

Lance bit the inside of his cheek as the signal turned green. A little while later, he asked “Why didn’t you defend yourself? You could’ve hit him back, or I dunno, you could have at least blocked his punch.”

Keith sighed. He turned to look at Lance. “You haven’t been in many fights, have you?”

Lance shook his head.

“They just get angrier when you fight back,” he continued. “I’ve learned that it’s easier to just let them get it all out.”

“Were you in many fights as a kid?” Lance asked hesitantly. Keith tried to laugh, but instead, he grimaced.

“I’m what they call a problem child,” he said. “I didn’t have many friends as a kid.”

Lance slowed the car down and parked in front of the ER. He helped Keith out of the car, and together the two walked inside. Immediately, Keith shut his eyes tightly and put his hands to his ears. “It’s so bright.” he murmured quietly.

Lance led him to the front desk, his hand behind the other boy’s back. The nurse immediately looked up when she saw Keith with his hands to his ears and eyes squinting, dried blood all over his forehead. She quickly led them to an examination room and helped Keith lay down on the bed.

“The doctor will visit you soon.” she said, right before leaving the two alone.

“Hey, Lance, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now,” Keith mumbled softly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lance said, frantically. “Hey, Keith, you gotta stay with me, ok buddy? Why don’t you tell me about your favorite composer, ok?”

“My… favorite… composer…” Keith said quietly, struggling to stay awake.

“Yeah, dude. Is it Beethoven?” asked Lance, hectic. “Who is it?”

Keith cracked a small smile, eyes closed. “Hmm… no, not Beethoven. I like Glinka.”

“Glinka?” asked Lance, confused. “Tell me more about him.”

With eyes still closed, he said “Yeah. Mikhail Glinka. A Russian composer from the 1800s. He was cool.” he groaned slightly as the curtains opened, and in walked a middle-aged woman in a white coat.

“Hey there,” she said softly. “My name is Dr. Preston, and I’m gonna take care of you, ok? But first I need you to answer some questions for me.” Keith nodded slightly.

“Alright then. What’s your name?”

“Keith.”

“Good. Tell me, Keith, what happened?” he groaned as she touched his forehead.

“I got into a fight, that’s all,” he said, voice slightly warbled.

The doctor looked up at Lance. “Who’d you get in a fight with?” she asked.

“Some rando on the street!” Keith said, flailing his arms in the air. Then, opening his eyes for the first time and turning to face the doctor, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t this guy that hit me. Lance couldn’t punch through styrofoam if he wanted to.” With that, he was laughing, a little strained.

“Doc,” he said finally. “My head’s killing me right now. Could we turn off the lights or something?”

The doctor smiled. “Sure, but first we have to run some tests, ok?” Keith just put his hands up to his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, just make it quick. This headache’s making me tired.”

She then proceeded to ask a bunch of questions. (“How’s your vision?” “240p” “Do you feel nauseous?” “Yeah, like a fucking kid that’s eaten too much and refuses to get off the carousel.”) When she was done, she said, “Well, Keith, it seems you have a concussion. You’ll have to stay overnight.”

Keith slowly waved his hand in the air. “Yeah, whatever man. Can we turn off the lights now?” The doctor smiled as she got up and obliged. She motioned to Lance, who was still standing in the corner.

“As I said, he’s gonna have to stay overnight so we can check up on him periodically. You’re welcome to stay too.” Lance thanked her, then watched as she walked away. Sighing slightly, he looked over at his phone. It was eleven o’clock, on the dot. He walked back into the room where Keith was, and he could hear him snoring softly. Smiling to himself, he went and sat down next to Keith’s bed. He took out another tissue and, wetting it from the sink, tried to clean up his forehead. Keith stirred a bit, before opening his eyes.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Lance said gently. “How are you feeling?”

Keith rubbed his eyes. “Like shit.” he answered.

Lance smiled a bit. “Listen, buddy can I have Shiro’s phone number? I think we should tell him that you’re staying overnight in the hospital.”

Keith grumbled a bit, but he fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Lance. “Here,” he said. “I can’t look at the screen, but his number’s in my contacts.” He unlocked his phone with his thumbprint, then turned around to face the wall.

“Thanks, man,” Lance said, but he could already hear Keith’s soft snores again.

Lance made his way out of the room and sat down in the cafeteria after ordering a coffee. He found Shiro’s number easily in Keith’s contacts, then called the number with his own phone. He heard the phone ring twice before a slightly groggy voice answered.

“Hello?” said Shiro on the other side.

“Hi. This is Lance, a friend of Keith’s,” he said, a bit awkwardly. He heard Shiro sigh on the other end of the phone.

“What’d he get himself into this time?”

“He got a concussion,” Lance said. “We’re at the emergency room on the corner of Walden Street and Honey avenue. The doctor said he had to stay overnight.”

“He got a concussion?” he could hear Shiro yell through the phone. “Ok, thanks for telling me. I’ll be over soon.” Lance could hear a click as Shiro hung up the phone.

Soon enough, a tall, muscular man made his way into the lobby. Lance saw him go up to the nurse at the front desk, and she pointed him towards Lance’s direction. Shiro walked over, his hand outstretched.

“You must be Lance,” he said as they shook hands. “Thanks for taking my brother here. Speaking of, what happened?”

So Lance told him all about the night, how everything was fine until Rolo came along and decided to punch the living daylights out of Keith. He told him about how Keith refused to call the cops on Rolo, so Lance just drove him here.

“That sounds exactly like him,” Shiro said, shaking his head. Then, taking a look at his watch, ‘Hey man, it’s almost midnight. Why don’t you go home, and I’ll take it from here, ok?”

Lance nodded, and gave Keith’s phone back to his brother. As he went to leave, Shiro thanked him one last time, then turned around to go see Keith. Lance stepped into the coolness of the night, and for once the air was still as he made his way back to his car.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Today was Thursday, approximately ten days since Keith had gone to the hospital. On Tuesday of last week, Rolo had stormed into Allura’s office and quit right then and there, using every single swear word he could think of to insult her for firing Nyma. He had given Lance an angry look as he stomped away, being led out of the building by two burly men.

Lance had texted Shiro multiple times that day, asking for updates on Keith, but he never got any. The next day Allura had announced that because of his concussion, he wouldn’t be able to work for the next two weeks, so everyone should probably go over some of their older songs and choose from that library if they needed original music in their podcast that week. She took Lance aside and told him what Shiro had told her over the phone: that Keith was fine, he just needed to rest. He was still feeling sensitive to light and sound, so it wouldn’t be good for him to work yet. Lance had just nodded along, saying of course, that he understands perfectly.

But now here he was, a day before his show, without a finished script. Pidge burst into his office without knocking, like they always did.

“What’s up, loverboy?” they asked. Then, seeing his strained expression, “what’s wrong?” as they sat crisscrossed on the ground in the center of the room.

“It’s nothing,” Lance said, shaking his head. “I’m just having trouble with this script is all.”

Pidge looked up at him, their round, brown eyes concerned. “Are you still worried about Keith?” they asked.

Lance felt the tips of his ears go hot. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, it kind of feels like my fault, you know? Like if I had just taken less time to grab the stupid pizza box, or if I had given him my car keys so he could wait inside, then maybe Rolo wouldn’t have been able to get him like that.”

Pidge stood up, stretching their arms high over their head as they did so. “Lance, there’s literally nothing that you could have done to prevent that. If you were with Keith when Rolo came over then he would have punched you as well. Or if Keith was already in the car, he could have broken through the window or something. I don’t know, but I

do

know this: it’s not worth beating yourself up about. If he hadn’t done it then, Rolo would have found a different time to do it. Just be glad that you were there to help Keith out afterward.”

He groaned as he rubbed his eyes, but then finally, “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Pidge.”

They smiled as they walked over to stand next to him. “So, what’s your show gonna be about this week, anyway?” they asked.

Lance stood up straight in his chair. “I thought I’d put my degree to use and talk about coral bleaching.” He looked over at Pidge, who had one eyebrow raised. “It doesn’t really feel right to add a pop culture segment this week,” he added. “And anyways, coral bleaching is a big problem! I could go on for hours on end about it, so I won’t have time for that.”

Pidge rolled their eyes playfully at him. “Whatever you say, man. It’s your podcast.” And with that, they left the room, letting the door close behind them.

About an hour later, the stupid script was finally done. It’s not that Lance hated it or anything; no, in fact, he was quite proud of all the research that he put into it. But his heart was still somewhere else, totally distracted. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he lazily fished it out, thinking that Hunk or Pidge had probably sent a meme or something in their group chat. And then, there it was: a text from Shiro.

Lance quickly opened his phone, eager to see what Shiro had to say.

Hey Lance! Sorry about not getting back to you sooner-- everything’s been kind of hectic lately, what with my studies and Keith’s concussion. To make matters worse, Keith had to move into his new apartment today, so I haven’t had much time to check out my texts. Anyways, I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight? I never really got a chance to properly thank you.

Lance’s heart skipped a beat. This meant that Keith was feeling better, right?

He looked over at the clock on his laptop and saw that it was 6:30. His shift had technically ended half an hour ago, and he was starting to get a little hungry. He quickly texted Shiro back, saying that he’d love to come over. As he started putting his laptop into his messenger bag, Shiro texted him the address and told him to swing by around seven. Lance noted that the address was relatively close, so he thought about stopping by the supermarket and buying some dessert and flowers.

---

Half an hour later, he was standing in front of Shiro’s house holding a bouquet of daisies and yellow roses wrapped in pale blue cellophane, as well as a store-bought blueberry pie. He rang the doorbell, and when Shiro opened the door he was greeted with the wonderful smell of fresh-baked bread.

“Hey, Lance!” he said, his voice cheery as he moved to the side and motioned for him to walk in. Lance handed him the blueberry pie as he said hello, taking off his shoes at the entrance.

“Make yourself at home,” Shiro told him, heading towards the kitchen to put the pie down. “Adam and Keith should be back any time now. They left a while ago to bring the majority of the boxes to Keith’s new apartment.”

Lance looked around their living room. He noticed a picture on the wall of a younger-looking Shiro with a much younger-looking Keith.

“How old were you guys in this picture?” he asked, laughing softly to himself. Shiro came over and looked to see what photograph Lance was talking about.

“There? Oh, we took that picture when we went out for dinner after I graduated high school. Let’s see, I was 18 at the time, making Keith about 11 years old.”

Lance looked over at Shiro, and he could see a big smile on his face. “Man, Keith has changed so much over the years.” He handed Lance a cup of water, then went to sit down on the couch. As Lance followed him, he continued:

“See, at this point in time, he had just started learning the flute. God, he hated it in the beginning, but he grew to love it eventually.” he laughed to himself. “Oh, you should see his prom pictures! He went with this girl whose name I can’t remember off the top of my head, but he insisted on doing his makeup like Gerard Way in the music video for ‘Helena’. He even wore a red tie to match!” Now Shiro was really laughing. Lance cracked a smile, still holding on to the flowers.

“Listen, Lance, I just really wanted to thank you for being there for my brother,” Shiro said as he calmed down. “Knowing him, he probably would have just went straight home and tried to sleep it off if you weren’t there to take him to the hospital.”

Lance was about to say something along the lines of “no problem!” (because really, what else could he say?) when the front door opened and Keith walked in, being followed by another man. Lance stood up from the couch when he saw them enter and went straight towards the other boy, his hand outstretched. “You must be Adam,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Adam pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge with his free hand as he shook Lance’s with the other. “Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, smiling.

Shiro was already back in the kitchen as he called for Adam to help him out with the food. Adam excused himself and walked past Lance, leaving him alone with Keith.

“Hey,” Lance said softly.

“Hey,” Keith replied.

Lance stood there awkwardly for a beat, not knowing what to say, until he remembered the flowers in his hand. “I got these for you,” he said, pushing them towards Keith. “The daisies and yellow roses mean get well soon. So uh, ya know, get well soon.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Keith took the flowers and smiled. “Thanks,” and then, seeing Lance’s half-worried expression, “I’m feeling a lot better now, really. I’m still a little bit sensitive to lights and sounds, so I couldn’t come into work this week, but I’m getting better.”

Lance just stood there, regarding him carefully. Finally, Keith shook his head and gave a half-laugh. “What are you staring at?”

“I-I’m not staring.” Lance stammered. “I’m just worried about you. That’s all.”

Keith looked at him, then chuckled as he went to ruffle Lance’s hair. “Dude, you don’t have to worry so much about me. I’m not fragile.” He walked past him and into the kitchen, looking for a vase to put the flowers in. Lance followed, not really knowing what else to do.

As he stepped foot into the kitchen he was met with the delicious aroma of all kinds of amazing things. Set out on the table before him were onigiri, bowls of miso soup, fish prepared in all different kinds of ways, and enough vegetables to feed a small army. Shiro was taking the bread out of the oven as Keith put the vase of flowers on the windowsill.

“It smells amazing in here!” Lance said, eyes open wide.

“If you think it smells amazing, just wait until you try the food for yourself,” Adam replied, going in to give Shiro a kiss on the cheek. “This man here is the best chef I know.”

“Oh hey, that’s not really fair,” Shiro said, his cheeks tinged red. “You helped me out a lot.”

Keith groaned loudly as he rolled his eyes. “Can we just eat? I’m starving.”

Adam laughed as Shiro sighed in Keith’s direction. Adam and Shiro then sat down on one side of the table, leaving Lance to sit next to Keith. Shiro started serving them, piling lots and lots of fish and vegetables on Lance’s plate. He thanked Shiro, but just as he was about to dig in, a sudden realization washed over him.

“Keith,” he whispered, turning to the other boy. “I don’t know how to use chopsticks.”

“What, you’ve never used them before or something?” he asked. Lance shook his head.

“No, I’ve used them before, I’m just not very good at it.”

Keith looked at him, an amused smile on his face. “How are you gonna get better then?” he asked. “And besides, it’s not that bad. Look.” he picked up his chopsticks in his right hand.

“See? If you hold them closer to the back it’s easier.”

Lance picked up his pair, trying to imitate what Keith was doing with his hands. After a couple of minutes of Lance failing miserably, Keith finally took Lance’s hand in his own and placed his fingers in the right spot.

“There,” he said. “Try it now.”

Lance swallowed down the lump in his throat as he tried to pick up a piece of carrot from his plate, and much to his amazement, he was able to lift the carrot to his face and plop it into his mouth without dropping it once. He gave Keith a big smile as the other gave him a thumb’s up.

After that, Adam had started asking Lance questions. The usual ones you ask when you’re getting to know someone for the first time, like what are you studying in school, where are you from, how’s your family, etc. Eventually, the conversation devolved into other things, and by the time they were done having dinner, they had gotten into a whole argument over which of the Final Fantasy games was the best.

“Obviously it's the seventh game,” Shiro said.

“You only like the seventh because it’s got Cloud Strife in it.” Keith interjected.

“And what of it? He’s a cool protagonist.”

“Personally I quite enjoy the fifteenth title,” said Adam, eager to change the subject.

“There’s fifteen of them? I thought it was a

final

fantasy.” Lance added.

“Yeah, and they’re also working on a sixteenth, I think.” spoke Adam.

“Aren’t they supposed to be working on part two of the seven remake?” asked Shiro.

“Who even knows at this point,” Keith said, sitting back in his chair. “Anyways, what time is it? I’ve got a couple of extra boxes that I need to bring to my apartment tonight.

Adam looked down at his watch. “It’s almost 10:30.”

“Need me to help you out?” Shiro asked.

“Oh, I can do it,” said Lance. “I walked over to your house, so I can use this as an excuse to get dropped off.”

Keith regarded him for a bit, until he got up, stretching. “Ok, as long as you don’t mind.”

Lance got up as well and went to put on his shoes. Adam and Shiro met them at the front of the house, holding a couple of boxes in their hands. Lance picked up the last two as Keith held the door open for them. The four made their way to the moving truck parked right in front of the house. Keith opened the trunk and they carefully placed the remaining boxes in there. Finally, Keith gave Lance the car keys.

“I can’t drive because of the concussion,” he said. “So I hope you’re not too tired.”

Lance took the keys from his hands, then went to thank Adam and Shiro for the wonderful dinner. Adam shook his hand, but Shiro grabbed him and pulled him tight into a bear-hug, until finally letting go and mouthing the words “thank you” one last time. 
 
---

“You know, I hate driving cars,” Keith said once they were on the road. “They’re way too bulky.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Lance. “That why you’ve got a motorcycle?” He could see Keith nod out of the corner of his eye as he told Lance to turn left at the next stop sign.

“Not only that, but they look sick.”

“Well, can’t argue with that.” As a police car raced by, Lance caught a glimpse of Keith’s face bathed in the blue and red light. In that moment, he looked beautiful.

Lance’s ears burned.

“Take a right here,” said Keith, absolutely oblivious to what was happening inside Lance’s brain. He did as he was told, and suddenly a realization hit him.

“Where’d you say that you’re moving to?” Lance asked.

“I think the apartment complex is called something stupid, like Sunrise Living,” Keith answered. “Why’d you ask?”

“Dude!” Lanced yelled excitedly. “I live in that same apartment complex. Oh! A couple weeks ago a girl on my floor moved out, is it possible that you’re moving into that room?”

“I’m on the fifth floor.”

“No way!” Lance turned to face him. “That means we’re gonna be neighbors! Oh isn’t that so cool?”

Keith looked over at him, shocked.

“Friday movie nights! We can have sleepovers and do facemasks together! Oh, this is so exciting!” Lance yelled some more.

Keith’s shocked expression quickly turned to amusement. “Huh. I guess now there’s no way to run away from you, is there?”

Lance playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Oh come on, Keith, you love me and you’re just as excited about this as I am.” Keith smiled and shook his head.

“Whatever man,” he said softly.

---

An hour later, all of the boxes were finally brought up to Keith’s apartment. Lance looked around the mostly empty space. “Hey, where’s all your furniture?” he asked. Keith looked up from one of the boxes that he was opening.

“Oh, I don’t really have any.”

Lance stared at him, incredulous. “What do you mean you don’t have any?”

Keith shrugged at him. “I don’t know, man. This is my first apartment so I don’t have any furniture yet. I was gonna go buy some last week but the concussion put a halt to those plans.”

“Did you want me to drive you back to Shiro’s house for the night?” Lance asked. “I have my car in the parking lot so it’d be no trouble.”

Keith stood up from the ground, dusting off his pants. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got some blankets and pillows, so I was planning on sleeping on the floor tonight. And anyway, it’s too late for you to be driving back and forth like that. I’ll be fine.”

Lance scratched his head. “You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“Why not? I’ve done it before. It’s really not that bad,” Keith went to open another box and pulled out a large blanket and some pillows. “I’ll be fine, really.” he said again, seeing Lance’s expression.

Lance sighed. “No way, man. Look, why don’t you sleepover at my apartment tonight? I’ve got a couch you can crash on, and I’m literally right across the hall.” Keith looked at him for a second, biting the inside of his cheek. Finally, he broke out into a small smile.

“Ok, fine. You win.”

Lance waited by the door as Keith found an old t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and soon enough the two were heading over to Lance’s room. Keith immediately found his way to the couch, sitting down as Lance entered the kitchen and started making them some tea. When the water was boiling, he took the kettle off the heat and poured the water into two mugs. He took them out to the living room and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. Keith was sitting with his head in his right hand, elbow placed on the arm of the couch with his eyes closed. Lance stood in front of the coffee table, staring at him as he slept. Keith’s hair was all messy, and Lance had to resist the urge to place his fingers through his hair and lightly comb it.

“You’re staring again,” Keith said, eyes still closed.

“What? No I’m not, I was just trying to see if you were sleeping,” Lance said, face flushed.

“Sure.” Keith stood up straight and rubbed his eyes. “So, what kind of tea have you got?” he asked, noticing the mugs of hot water on the table.

Lance hurried back to the kitchen and grabbed his entire tea collection, dumping all the little boxes on the couch next to Keith. The other boy fingered through the boxes, until finally selecting a plain peppermint tea. Lance grabbed a bag of peach tea as he turned on the tv to put on some background noise.

The two sat quietly for a bit as they watched an episode of House Hunters in silence, and Keith hummed contently as he took a sip of his drink.

“So, your first apartment, huh?” Lance asked, turning to face Keith slightly.

“Yup.” he said, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“How come you wanted to move out?”

Keith sighed loudly and put his mug back on the coffee table. “Because,” he started, repositioning himself so that his back was leaning against the side of the couch’s arm and his feet were a couple inches from Lance’s leg. “Adam and Shiro are getting married next year. Soon they’re gonna want to start their own family, and I don’t want to be a burden. Besides, the way they act together is disgusting.” he pretended to gag. “I feel like I’m gonna get a cavity just from standing next to them.”

“I get what you mean,” Lance laughed gently. “It’s kind of weird seeing your older siblings in love.”

“Right? That’s exactly what I mean. And it’s not like I don’t want him to be happy, because of course I do. I don’t know, it’s just weird seeing the way he and Adam act around each other.”

Lance nodded, then turned his attention back to the tv. He could feel Keith’s eyes on him as he took another sip of tea. “Now

you’re

staring,” he said finally as the tv program cut to a commercial break.

“I was just thinking,” Keith said with a soft smile. “Could I hang out here tomorrow? My apartment is uninhabitable because of the no furniture, and I can’t drive to Shiro’s because of the concussion.”

“Yeah, of course, man. I don’t mind you hanging out.” Lance answered with a soft smile of his own.

Keith’s phone buzzed, and as he pulled it out of his pocket he scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked.

Keith quickly put his phone down. “Nothing, it’s just getting late,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Mind if we continue this tomorrow?”

Lance just gave him a little

ok

as he got up from the couch and grabbed their empty mugs from the coffee table. He saw Keith pick up his phone again, scowling once more, but didn’t pay it any attention. He put the mugs in the sink, then walked back out into the living room to see Keith had turned off the tv and was now tugging an old t-shirt down over his head. Lance quickly turned around, cheeks red. He hadn’t meant to walk in on him changing. Keith turned around and laughed as Lance sheepishly put his head up, hand nervously scratching his head.

“Night, man,” Keith said, voice gentle.

Lance managed to stammer good night as he hurried into his room, closing the door quickly behind him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

His alarm blared at seven in the morning. Lance slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. As the alarm rang once more, he swung his arm over to his bedside table, turning it off. Lance looked over to his window, and he could see that the sun had begun to rise a bit. It was nearing the end of February and the world was once again starting to thaw from the long winter.Through his closed bedroom door, he could smell coffee. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes, wondering why he was smelling that when the realization hit him. Oh. Keith had slept over last night.He swung his legs over his bed and walked quickly (albeit a bit groggily) towards the door. Lance closed his fingers around the cool door handle, and quietly the door swung open just enough for the scent of coffee to really hit him like a brick. He stopped dead in his tracks, the smell waking him up from this foggy state just enough to really think about what he was doing. Keith was here, right now. His hair was probably sticking up in a million different places, and Lance would have to fight the urge to run his hand through it. That stupid mullet was gonna be the death of him.Lance took a deep breath to ready himself, his heart already racing at 300 miles per hour at just the thought of seeing Keith so early in the morning like this. He exhaled slowly, and with his eyes closed he opened the door all the way. He slowly made his way over to the kitchen, making sure not to step on the creaky parts of the hardwood flooring. Finally, standing in the doorway, he managed to look up and catch a glimpse of Keith, the backlight from the window giving the edges of his skin and hair a warm glow. There he was, just as Lance had pictured: leaning with his back to the counter, scrolling on his phone with one hand and holding a mug in the other. His hair was all over the place, with little bits sticking up here and there. He was wearing an old t-shirt and black shorts, even though it was freezing in the apartment. Lance shivered at the thought, although he couldn’t really tell if it was from the cold or if it was because Keith looked like that, and he was right there, only a couple steps away. Lance fought the urge to just go over and touch him, to make up a bad excuse as to why he had to ruffle Keith’s hair, or why he had to take Keith’s hands in his own and never let go.What was this feeling that was growing in his chest?He unconsciously took a step forward, and the wood creaked beneath his feet from the shifting weight. Keith looked up from his phone and smiled at the sight of him, and Lance was no longer cold.“Hey man,” he said, his voice slightly low and still scratchy from sleep. “I made myself some coffee, hope you don’t mind.”“Not at all,” Lance croaked. He cleared his throat as he grabbed his own mug and walked towards the coffee machine. It was right behind where Keith was leaning on the counter. The other boy moved over to the side to give Lance some space, but they were still standing so close that Lance could feel the warmth coming off Keith’s body.“Are you- are you not cold?” Lance asked, clearing his voice again in the middle of his sentence. “There’s like 65 degrees in the apartment, I’m freezing.” His heart was running at a million hours a second, his stomach doing summersaults. Why was he feeling this way all of a sudden? He could feel Keith eyeing him up and down, and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.“I’m a warm person,” he said with a small shrug. “I don’t get cold that easily.” He put his phone down and turned so he could fully face Lance.“So, what were you planning on doing today?” Lance asked. The silence in the air was unbearable.“I don’t know. I can actually look at a screen now, so I’m probably gonna catch up on some work. What about you?” Lance took a sip of his coffee before turning to face Keith as well.“I’ve got class in the morning and later I’ve got my radio show, but after I can take you to Ikea if you’d like. We should at the very least get you a bed frame and some chairs or something that you can put out in your living room.” Keith smiled sheepishly, and Lance had to turn around in order to hide the blush that was beginning to form on his cheeks.“Sounds good,” he said. Lance put his mug down and went to the fridge, picking up an onion, a couple of eggs, and some mushrooms. “Oh, by the way,” he said, turning back to look at Keith again, “you can eat whatever’s in the apartment while I’m out. Make yourself at home.” He grabbed a knife and cutting board, and started to peel the onion. He could feel Keith looking at him again, silence once more hanging in the air between them.“Oh.” Keith said finally. “That’s very nice, but I don't actually know how to cook. I was just planning on ordering takeout for lunch.”Lance put his knife down and stared at Keith, his eyebrows furrowed. “What, you can’t even fry an egg or something?” Keith scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I never had to learn how. My grandfather used to cook all the time, and when he got sick Shiro took over. I guess there was always someone else there that knew how to cook, so I didn’t bother to learn.”Lance looked at him, incredulous. Finally, he sighed as he shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “Come here man, you’re at least going to learn how to make an omelet.” Keith walked over to where Lance was standing, their bodies only inches apart as Lance taught him how to dice onions. After he had diced a quarter of the onion, he gave the knife to the other boy and told him to dice the other quarter. As he did so, Lance made his way to the sink to wash his hands, so he could wipe away the tears in his eyes. He walked back over to Keith to see how he was doing, but instead of looking at his hands Lance couldn’t help but to look over at his face. Keith’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, tears streaming down his face. Without thinking, Lance reached over and wiped away the tears in his eyes. Keith paused for a second, before turning his head to look over at him. Lance’s breath caught in his throat as he hastily retracted his hand.“I’m sorry!” he said quickly. “I just-- I mean--”Keith gave him a breathy laugh. “It’s ok,” he said with a quizzical smile.Lance decided it was probably best to go stand somewhere else.He waited for Keith to finish cutting the onions, then started to sautee them with the mushrooms. Keith looked over his shoulder as he explained how to know when the mushrooms were done cooking. As he was mixing the onions and mushrooms around in the pan, he asked Keith to scramble four eggs into a bowl. The dark-haired boy did as he was told, only getting a singular piece of eggshell in the eggs. He brought the bowl over, and Lance poured them into the pan. He covered the eggs for a couple of minutes until the eggs were nice and golden. He took them off the fire, the smell of onions and mushrooms filling the small kitchen. Keith grabbed them each a plate and utensils, and Lance plated the omelet with a flourish.“Tad-da!” he said. “See? Pretty easy.” Keith gave him another smile as he sat down at the kitchen table. “We’ll see,” he said. “Knowing my luck, I’d probably burn the eggs or something.”Lance sat down across from him, taking in the savory aroma. “That’d be pretty hard to do.” he chuckled. “Maybe you can try making bulls-eye eggs for lunch.”The two of them talked about different spices as they ate, with Lance taking multiple trips to the spice cabinet to have Keith smell different ones. In the end, Keith decided to play it safe and sprinkled a little bit of salt and lemon pepper (“It’s more flavorful than regular pepper!” Lance said. “At least try it.”) on his omelet. After breakfast, Lance got ready for the day while Keith stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes. He came out of his room half an hour later, wearing a simple white t-shirt over blue jeans and an old cardigan that was passed down from his grandfather. As he walked over to the closet to grab his shoes, he could feel Keith’s eyes on him. He looked up and Keith quickly turned to look back at the spice cabinet, apparently very interested in what was going on in that direction. Lance’s ears burned as he grabbed his bag.“OK, so, as I said, I’ll be back at four. There’s a spare set of keys in that bowl over there, so feel free to leave my apartment as long as you lock up.” he pointed over to a bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. “Text me if you need anything, obviously.”Keith nodded as Lance made his way over to the door. Once on the other side, he heard the lock click behind him.***After class, Lance made his way over to the radio station. His show went great, as usual. The lack of new music wasn’t that big of a deal, as he just recycled old songs from the station’s library. Afterwards, he caught up with Pidge and Hunk as they were wrapping up things on their end.“So, are we getting our Friday pizza today?” Pidge asked.“Last I checked, today’s Friday… which means we’re legally obligated to get Friday pizza,” Hunk said.They both looked up excitedly at Lance, waiting for him to talk about how excited he was for Friday pizza. Instead, Lance looked at them apologetically. “Actually, no Friday pizza for me today,” he said. “But you guys should totally go!”Hunk and Pidge looked at each other, both of them raising an eyebrow.“Why can’t you come to Friday pizza?” asked Pidge.“Yeah, Friday pizza is a tradition,” Hunk added. “You do your show, Pidge and I do the engineering stuff, and then we all celebrate by getting Friday pizza.”“I know, I know,” Lance said. “But I promised I’d bring Keith to Ikea after my show.”Now Hunk and Pidge were really looking at each other.“I mean, he could come too.” Pidge said.“Yeah, it’d be good to actually get to know this guy.”“Especially if he’s gonna take up all your time.” Pidge quipped.Lance’s cheeks felt bright red. “He doesn’t take up all of my time,” he said. “I’ve just been hanging out with him a lot since the accident.”“Right. And you’re gonna go hang out with him right now.” Hunk said.Lance scoffed. “Ok, so what? He just moved into a new apartment and has no furniture, plus with his concussion, he can’t drive. I’m just being a friend.”Pidge and Hunk shared one more look before they burst out in laughter.“Hey man, we’re just giving you a hard time,” Hunk said. Go enjoy your Ikea date, just as long as you promise to come to Friday pizza next week.”“It’s not a date!” Lance yelped.“Yeah? Then why are your cheeks so red?” Pidge teased.Lance brought a hand to his face, trying to shield himself from his friends. “I’m just flustered” he muttered under his breath. “You guys are accusing me of very heinous crimes.”Hunk slapped him on the back. “Lance, we’ve been friends for how long? Yeah, Pidge and I were just teasing, but we’re not stupid. Go have fun at Ikea.”Lance bit his lip. “What do you mean?”Pidge rolled their eyes. “Oh my god dude, are you oblivious? You like the guy.”Lance stopped moving. His heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. Do I like Keith? He thought to himself. Sure, this morning his heart skipped a beat when he saw him in his pajamas with his bed hair. And he couldn’t deny that he looked good in those shorts. And, of course, all he wanted to do was be around him for the rest of his life, but that’s like totally normal friend stuff, right?“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he mustered finally.“Lance, ever since the guy stepped foot in here you haven’t stopped talking about him,” Hunk said softly. “Do you remember the first time he took you down to his recording studio? You guys spent hours down there together.”“Well, thats hardly fair!” Lance protested. “I was helping him write music. I was being a friend.”“He called you his muse.”Lance’s mouth was agape, his cheeks blushing bright red, ears hotter than the surface of the sun. “I don’t understand how this proves that I like him,” he said finally.“It doesn’t necessarily, but this conversation does!” Pidge answered with an evil note in their voice. “We had our suspicions, but the way you’re acting is the cherry on top.”Lance looked over at them, friendly betrayal plastered all over his face. “I can’t believe you guys set me up here.”“So you admit it!” Pidge yelled in glee.“I never said that! I said that you set me up. Anyways, if Hunk and I attacked you like this, wouldn’t you also get all red and embarrassed?”Pidge thought about it for a second. “No, because I’d have the evidence to clear myself of such rumors. I’d be very cool, calm, and collected.” They stuck their tongue out at him as he struggled to come up with anything intelligent to say. “And anyway, this was Hunk’s idea.”Lance turned around to face Hunk. “Et tu, Brute?” he asked.“Listen, all I’m gonna say is that you’re a hopeless romantic and the guy called you his muse. Case closed.” he said, hands up as if to say he was innocent.Lance scoffed, defeated. “Whatever,” he said. “I should get going soon.”“Yeah, you wouldn’t want your damsel to worry too much.” Pidge quipped. Lance shot them another look, but he didn’t really have anything to say. He simply shook his head in defeat as he grabbed his things from the floor. Hunk gave him a sympathetic smile as he started to leave, even though this whole operation was apparently his idea to begin with. During the drive back, that conversation kept replaying in his mind. Deep down, Lance knew his friends were just giving him a hard time because that’s what friends do. But the more he mulled it over in his head, the more his thoughts went to pictures of Keith that morning, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and black shorts, his long, muscular legs, his messy hair… oh god, did he have a crush? And when did this even start, anyway? Lance racked his brain for answers. When did he start feeling this way? And why was it happening?He pulled into the apartment’s parking lot. The sudden realization that he was going to have to face Keith hit him like a ton of brick all at once. God, this was so unfair! What did he do to deserve this mess?As he walked out of the elevator, the only thing he could think of was Keith. How beautiful he looked when he was concentrating on something, how smart and talented he was, how breathtaking his voice was… Lance paused in front of his door, his cheeks a flushed disaster. As he stopped to collect himself, he heard the faint sound of guitar strings, followed by a sweet, hushed voice singing a familiar melody that Lance eventually recognized as the song “Paul” by Big Thief. He stood by the door a couple of seconds longer, bracing himself for whatever would be on the other side. Finally, as the song was coming to a close, he found the courage to unlock the door and walk in.Keith was sitting on the couch with his guitar by his side. As Lance walked in, Keith was putting his messy hair into a short ponytail, his cropped shirt riding up so Lance could see his stomach. Lance immediately made a beeline for the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind him. Oh no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. In fact, this was the worst possible thing that could possibly happen at a time like this. First, he had to come to terms with the fact that maybe he liked this guy, and now this? Keith sitting on his couch, putting up his dumb mullet, wearing a dumb cropped shirt that rode up-- no. Stop. He had to get a grip. Lance stared at himself in the mirror, his hands gripping the sink so hard his fingertips were turning white. His cheeks were flushed bright red, his heart beating as if he’d just finished a marathon. He took a couple of minutes to steel himself, splashing cold water on his face. Finally, he decided to walk out of the bathroom and face Keith.He slowly opened the door to the bathroom. The other boy was no longer sitting on the couch but rather was in the kitchen making coffee. Lance took a deep breath and walked over, almost fainting when he finally caught sight of what Keith was wearing.He was leaning against the counter as he always did while he waited for the coffeemaker. He was wearing a black band tee, hastily cropped by hand so that it hung just below his belly button. Below, he wore black cargo pants that were covered in patches. His hair was tied haphazardly, with little bits sticking out here and there.“Oh, hey. Are you ok?” Keith asked.Lance was awoken from his trance. “Huh? Yeah, sorry. I just uhh, needed to wash my face really bad!” Keith eyed him strangely, but he didn’t push the subject.“I made coffee. Want some?”“Sure.”Lance regretted saying it as soon as that word escaped his mouth, because Keith walked over to the cupboard and reached up to get another mug, his shirt riding up with his shoulders as he did so. Lance had to look away and decided to focus on a spot on the floor, which at that point in time was very interesting to look at.Keith brought Lance his mug and set it on the table in front of him. “Did you want to relax for a bit before going out? I’m sure you had a long day.”Lance sighed and sat down across from him as he regarded his mug. “No, we can go out soon. Let me just drink this first.”They sat in silence for a bit as the two drank their coffees. Finally, Lance asked, “So, how was your day?”Keith laughed. “It was good. After you left I went back to my apartment, got dressed, and tried to organize as much as I could, but it’s kind of difficult when you don’t have any furniture.” Lance nodded.Keith cocked his head. “What’s going on with you?”Lance put his mug down, the flush returning to his face. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, although it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.Keith raised an eyebrow, but once again he didn’t push the subject. They finished their coffees, then Lance stood up and brought the mugs to the sink.“Ok, ready to go?” he asked, breaking the silence. Keith nodded. The two made their way over to the entrance. As Keith laced up his black boots Lance grabbed their jackets, and the two headed out. The entire car ride over, Lance let Keith pick the music. At first, the music he chose was pretty normal. Some Sleeping With Sirens, Bring Me The Horizon, Pierce the Veil, the works. But then, he started interjecting some weird songs here and there. What sounded like a nightcore version of Bob Dylan? A medieval version of Nikki Minaj? What really broke the camel’s back, however, was when he started to play what could only be described as straight-up noise.“Dude, what the hell’s gotten into you today?” Lance asked.“Oh, so you can talk!” Keith said as he paused the song.“What are you talking about?”“Hm, let’s see,” Keith started. “As soon as you walked in you ran straight towards the bathroom and stayed in there for like ten minutes without doing anything.”“I was washing my face!” Lance yelped. “I have a very complicated skin-care plan, it takes a long time to complete!”“Right,” Keith continued. “When you got out, you basically ignored me, and all you did was ask me how my day went.”“I had a rough day today,” Lance lied. “I had nothing to say.”“You wouldn’t make eye contact when we talked.”At this point, Lance could feel his ears going red again. “That’s not fair,” he sighed. “Do I have to make eye contact for you to know I’m talking to you?”He could see Keith eyeing him out of the corner of his eye. “Well, no. But I could tell something was off. You’re usually a pretty good conversationist.”Lance pulled into the parking garage, saying nothing as he looked for an open spot. After he stopped the car, he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face Keith.“I’m sorry,” he said, sighing. “As I said, I had a rough day. It wasn’t because of anything you did, I was just feeling a little out of order.” He slumped back into his seat.He saw Keith’s shoulders relax. How long had they been tensed?“Ok. Yeah, that makes sense. I’m sorry if I pushed you.” Keith gave him a shy smile.Lance felt butterflies.He returned the smile. The two got out of the car, making plans for all the different pieces they were going to get that day. Keith had a pretty limited budget, but they decided on a couple of essentials: a bed frame, some seating for the living room, and a table for the kitchen.***After a couple of hours, they were finally finished. They managed to find a black bed frame, two comfy chairs, and a kitchen table for pretty cheap. They wheeled their cart back to the car, and after some swearing and laying the backseats flat, they were able to fit everything in the back of Lance’s car. As he went to close the trunk, he noticed Keith was looking at something behind him. He went to turn around, to see what the other boy was looking at, but Keith stopped him by putting a hand on his cheek.“What’s going on?” Lance asked, laughing nervously. Keith was still looking over his shoulder.“Do you trust me?” Keith whispered.Lance swallowed hard. “Of course I do.” Keith turned his gaze to look him in the eye, then pulled him in for a kiss.It happened so suddenly, Lance didn’t realize it at first. It was like he was in a haze, unable to function properly. Then his senses kicked in all at once. He could feel Keith’s hand on his cheek, the other on the collar of his shirt, keeping him in place. His sense of smell was overrun by amber and musk, no doubt a cologne that was gifted to Keith by Shiro. And then, taste. Keith tasted fantastic. He tasted like milk and honey, as if he drank the nectar of the gods. Lance’s body went into overdrive, and he found himself kissing him back, trying to savor every last drop. He felt his own hands tangle themselves into his hair, as he had longed to do all morning. His heart raced, his stomach was going wild. Keith broke apart for just a second to catch some air, their eyes locking together for just a moment, but just as suddenly as he had broken the kiss he came back for more. Lance felt himself kissing him like he was hungry, like he was famished, like there was nothing in the world that could satiate him but Keith.And then, just like that, it ended. Keith loosened his grip on Lance’s shirt collar. Lance untangled his hands from the other boy’s dark hair. Keith took a step back, looking at Lance with an embarrassed smile.Lance tried clearing his throat. His face was flushed, as it often was these days. “Um, so--” he started, looking down at the ground, not really knowing what to say.But that didn’t matter, because before he could even think of a follow-up, he was interrupted by another voice.“Hey Keith,” he heard someone say. Lance whipped around to face a boy with mousy brown hair. He felt Keith wrap an arm around his waist.“What do you want?” Keith scowled, looking like he did when he first barged into the radio station that fateful day. The stranger’s eyes looked down at Keith’s arm hugging Lance’s side. He didn’t know why, but Lance found himself putting his arm around Keith’s waist as well, pulling him closer.The stranger sighed and looked back up at Keith. “I’ve been texting you.”Keith looked at him in disgust. “And I’ve been avoiding you.”The three stood in silence for what felt like forever until Lance did the only thing he could think to do: he held out his hand.“My name’s Lance, by the way.”The boy regarded him for the first time since he came over, but he grasped his hand in a firm handshake. “James,” he said.Keith scowled. “James, what the hell are you doing here?”“What am I doing in an Ikea parking garage?” he asked.“You know what I mean.”James shook his head. “I’m here to offer an olive branch.” He fished around in his pockets and pulled out two crumpled concert tickets. “I got hired in the local symphonic orchestra, and I’m playing first violin in a Mikhail Glinka concert. I want you to come.” He held out the two tickets. Keith eyed them carefully, but eventually, he reached out to grab them. Lance noticed their finger brush, but Keith snatched the tickets out of James’ hand before that could linger. Keith’s grasp on Lance’s side tightened.“I have a concussion right now,” Keith said. “I might not make it.”“The concert is in a couple of weeks,” James answered. “Listen, you don’t have to give me a definitive answer right now. I know I hurt you, and I have no right asking you to come. If you decide not to come, feel free to pawn off those tickets, or to shred them to pieces and never think of me again. But please, just promise me you’ll consider it?”Keith bit his lip and lowered his head to look at the ground. “I’ll think about it.” he mumbled.Apparently, that was enough for James. He gave Keith a small smile. He turned to Lance to give him a nod, then he walked off without saying another word.Once he was out of earshot, Lance pulled away. “Who was that?” he asked.Keith was still looking at the ground, very interested in the pavement. “My ex,” he grumbled. “He’s a piece of shit.”Before Lance could ask more questions, Keith walked over to the passenger side and sat in the car. Lance took a deep breath and followed. Once out of the parking garage, Lance decided to break the silence by asking what had been on his mind that whole time.“So, um, about that kiss,” he said, trying to clear the lump from his throat. He chanced a look over at Keith, who had gone as white as a sheet.“Oh my god!” Keith yelled, his eyes wide open. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” he buried his head in his hands, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I saw James from over your shoulder, and he was coming my way, and I just-- oh my god-- I panicked-- I’m sorry-- I didn’t--”“Oh,” Lance said, feeling himself deflate. “No, it’s ok. I get it.” He quickly looked over at Keith again. “Hey man, I get it. You saw an ex, you panicked, needed to prove that you moved on. I would have done the same.”Expect, the thing is, Lance wasn’t actually ok with this. Keith kissed him like he’d never been kissed before. And you know what? Lance liked it! He liked it a lot! In fact, he wanted to kiss him again right now. He wanted to pull over on the side of the highway and straddle him, right then and there. He wanted to kiss Keith’s cheeks, to get drunk on his scent. He wanted to leave marks on his neck, to claim him as his own. He wanted to consume Keith’s soul, to make him part of himself, to never let go.If it was just for show, why did Keith kiss him like that? And now, to find out that it was all fake, to just get back at an ex…Lance felt a warm hand on his knee. “Thanks, Lance,” Keith said. “You’re a good friend. And for what it’s worth, you’re a great kisser.”Lance let out an incredulous laugh. He was hurt, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in him to be angry.They rode a couple of miles in silence, although Keith never removed his hand from Lance’s knee. After what felt like forever, Keith sighed.“James and I dated for over two years,” he started. “I broke it off a couple of months ago when I caught him cheating on me.”“That’s terrible,” Lance responded.“Yeah well, it gets worse. The girl he cheated on me with was a mutual friend. We’ve been in the same flute class for all four years.”“I’m sorry about that.” Lance, said, not really knowing what to say. Keith looked out the passenger window.“I needed him to think I moved on.”“Have you?”Keith didn’t answer. Back at the apartment complex, the boys hauled the boxes through the parking lot and into the elevator, neither daring to say a word. Once in front of the apartment door, Keith fumbled in his pockets, looking for the keys. As he fished them out, the two crumpled concert tickets fell to the floor. Keith picked them up gingerly and regarded them carefully.“You don’t have to go.” Lance said, slicing through their silence. Keith shoved them back in his pocket as he unlocked the door. They dragged the boxes into the living room.“I know,” Keith said as he closed the door behind them. “I was thinking about it in the car, but in a weird way I think going would give me the closure I need.”“If you go, it should be for your sake,” Lance said. “You don’t owe that guy anything, especially since he cheated on you.”Keith gave him a soft smile. “Should we start with the bed?” Ok, listen. Yeah, building Ikea furniture isn’t rocket science or anything, but Lance still gave a silent prayer thanking God he went down the route of marine biology and not engineering. It took the two of them around an hour to put the frame together. They kept losing all the tiny screws, and at one point they had a bunch left over so they knew something was terribly wrong. They took the frame apart one or two times, then rebuilt the sections paying closer attention to the instructions. But you know what they say: it’s about the destination, not the journey.By the end of that little adventure, Lance was starving. “Hey, how about we go back to my apartment for now and build that other stuff later?” he asked. “Let’s take a break and eat dinner.”Keith responded by way of his stomach gurgling in agreement. As they left the apartment, he started apologizing for being so dependent on Lance recently, and that as soon as that mattress he ordered online came he’d be out of his hair.“It’s cool,” Lance said with a shrug. “We’re friends; I don’t mind you crashing.” As Lance walked over to the kitchen to get started on dinner, Keith started up the vinyl player. He chose a Keaton Henson album, put the needle in place, then came over as the sound of a sad piano filled the room.Lance was already chopping onions as Keith popped in. Keith stood awkwardly behind him as he hummed to himself. “Instead of staring at my back, would you like to peel and chop some tomatoes?” he asked. He turned to look at Keith, and saw a slight tinge of red in his cheeks.“Yessir!” Keith yelled. He went over to the pantry and got started on the potatoes.About half an hour later, the boys were done. Lance grabbed bowls, and he masterfully plated the rice with the curry sauce. They carried their bowls out to the living room and ate as they watched trashy late-night reality shows. Once they were done, Keith volunteered to take their stuff to the kitchen and start washing the dishes. Lance happily obliged and stayed on the couch as the other boy walked away. As Keith was washing the dishes, Lance started flipping through the channels. Late-night show here, news channel there, reruns of Friends. He flipped the channel once more, this time ending up on an orchestra concert. Lance was taken by the music and lingered on that channel. He didn’t recognize the music (which wasn’t saying much), but the performance was breathtaking. So breathtaking, in fact, that he almost didn’t notice Keith coming back to sit next to him on the couch. As the piece ended, there was a brief pause in between the applause and the next song. And it was at that moment that Lance realized tears were streaming down Keith’s eyes. Lance sat up immediately, closing the gap between the two of them. “What’s wrong?” he asked. But apparently, that was the wrong question.Keith looked at him, and his silent tears turned into full-on sobbing. He placed his head in his hands, crying uncontrollably. Lance was at a total loss for words, so he did the only thing he knew how to do: he grabbed Keith by the shoulders and brought him into a tight bear hug. Keith wept into his shoulder at the tempo of the song that was playing on tv. He wept, and he wept. He wept until suddenly he was done weeping, like he was a reservoir that had run out of tears. Lance gently wiped away his tears, still unsure of what to say.“I’m sorry,” Keith finally managed to say, letting his head fall into Lance’s chest.“It’s ok,” Lance said as he rubbed circles into Keith’s back. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.“I’m pathetic,” Keith said, sitting up straight.“That’s not true!” Lance interjected. “A lot happened today. You’re not pathetic for having emotions.”Keith eyed him wearily, breaking into a sad smile. “I’m sorry I kissed you earlier.” Lance’s cheeks flushed.“You deserve someone good to kiss you,” Keith continued before he could answer. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you like that.”Lance’s words escaped his lips before he could think about what he was about to say. “You are good.” His eyes widened with the realization. “No-- I mean-- I mean that you’re a good person, and I’m lucky to have you in my life. I’m not upset about the kiss-- I get why you did it. It’s ok. I know it didn’t mean anything.” he bit the inside of his lip.Keith regarded him before looking away. “That song they just played was Biber’s Mystery Sonata No. 4. It’s how I met James.”“Right. James.” Lance leaned back into the couch.“It was when I was a sophomore at the conservatory. I couldn’t fall asleep one night, so I went to practice my flute in a practice room, and as I was walking around the halls I heard someone playing this song on a violin. So I went to investigate, and I found myself on the other side of a door. It wasn’t shut all the way, so that’s how the sound carried. Anyway, I was entranced by the song, and I ended up leaning on the door. It opened, and that’s how we met.” Keith gave a strained laugh. “James was startled that someone was awake at that hour, but he eventually played me the whole song that night.” He put his head in his hands again. “I thought I moved on, I really did. It’s been months since we broke up, and I hadn’t thought about him in so long.” Lance patted him on the back encouragingly.“I thought I was finally at a point in my life where I could try again, and just forget about him for good. But seeing him again today…” he started to choke up.“Hey man, it’s ok. Healing isn’t linear.” Keith turned to look at Keith, his head still in his hands.“I don’t know what to think anymore. It's exhausting.”“It’s ok not to know. Sometimes the best you can do is just exist.”Keith gave him a soft smile.Lance looked at his watch. “Hey man, it’s 1 a.m. How about we get some sleep for tonight, and if you want we can finish this conversation in the morning.” Keith stood up straight and looked at his own phone. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”Lance stood up from the couch and went over to a basket on the side of the room. “Here, I’ve got a bunch of blankets. There’s a bunch of throw pillows on the couch, so take your pick. Let me know if you need anything, but I think the best course of action for tonight is to get some sleep.”Keith nodded as he also stood up. “Right. Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”Lance left him alone in the living room as he made his way over to his bedroom.An hour or so later, there was a knock on his door.“Yeah?” he asked groggily as he searched for the light switch of his bedside lamp.Keith opened the door partway. “The couch is uncomfortable,” he said. “I’ve got a crick in my neck already.”Maybe he was tired, maybe he wasn’t thinking, maybe he didn’t really care. Lance held his blanket up, inviting Keith into his own bed.Keith walked over sheepishly. “I’m sorry about this,” he said as he lay down with his back to Lance.“All good,” Lance answered, voice still tired, his brain not fully awake. In fact, maybe it was the sleepiness, maybe it was that Keith’s addition to the bed brought some much-welcome warmth, or maybe it was Maybelline. Lance didn’t know what force acted upon him right then and there, but he put his arm over Keith and nestled his head into the back of his neck. “You’re not a burden,” he whispered, and the two fell into a restful slumber.