Keith could spend all day looking at the stars. They constantly flickered in and out, bright white beacons calling him across the sky. Diamonds in the bruised, purple nothingness that surrounded the ship. When Keith felt overwhelmed, he would watch the stars. This happened more and more often lately.
It reminded him of the Garrison. He'd sit on the Observation Deck as long as he could, drinking in the visions from far away. Planning when he could be up there too. It all seemed dreamlike to him, even now.
Stars were constant. Even when everything else had fallen apart, he could look up into the night sky, and there they would be. Stars can't leave you. People can.
Stars were multifaceted. They looked distant and cool, but if you came close enough to one, you'd be burnt to death. There was a certain charm to an untouchable beauty, he supposed.
He couldn't say the same about himself, sadly. Because every time he tried to get a moment alone-
"Keiiiiiiiiiith!" A familiar shout echoed down the hallway. Lance.
-that boy managed to come in and ruin everything.
Keith didn't mind the idea of spending time with Lance. He had no problem hanging out with Shiro, Pidge, or Hunk, even Allura sometimes. But that boy had to make it mentally taxing.
—
Lance bounded up to Keith, his heart thrumming in his chest. He'd dashed all the way from the other side of the ship. "Boy do I have the challenge for you, Keith! And I'm gonna win this time!"
"Are you?" Keith smirked.
"Shut up, Mullet! The only reason why I lost all those other times was cause of technical difficulties!"
"The only difficulty is you!"
"Stop bullying me!" Lance whined.
Keith crossed his arms. "What, you can't take it when I give it to you?"
Did Keith realize what that sounded like?
"Oh my god, Keith." Lance's voice dropped conspiratorially, and he leaned in close to Keith's face. He could feel Keith's angry breath on his face and resisted a shiver. "Are you… flirting with me?"
The closeness was a bit harder on Lance than he originally imagined. He started to sweat, wondering if it was the wrong joke, if Keith was gonna get the wrong idea-
"Why do I bother?" Keith said, shaking his head and pulling away. He looked again to the open frontier of space. The stars reflected in his purple eyes, displaying the countless galaxies passing by.
Keith's attention was hard to keep. Lance sputtered, affronted. "Did I stutter? Don't turn your back on me! I have a challenge."
"Well then spit it out. I'm losing my interest pretty fast, McClain." A smile appeared on the edge of Keith's lips, as he stared out. Just for a second, Lance was certain he saw it. then it was gone, and only Keith's signature scowl remained.
—
Lance slammed a colorful box onto the table before Keith. "Space Frogs."
"Again? That's your new challenge? We played that yesterday." Keith put a hand on his hip, unimpressed.
"Yes," Lance said, "but the results were incorrect."
"Because I won?"
Lance plunged forward, ignoring Keith. "Because the game was broken! And so, I'd like a replay."
"A rematch, you mean?"
"The game has to work the first time for there to be a rematch! Duh!" Lance looked proud of himself.
"Whatever you say, Lance." At this point, Keith was too used to it to argue. If he tried to say no to Lance's incessant badgering, the boy could keep it up for hours. Keith didn't have that kind of extended tolerance for annoyance.
"Wait." Lance paused, his eyes wide. A pause followed which could fit several dramatic Lance pauses. Lance cleared his throat. Keith took the bait.
"What?"
"We're out of batteries!" Lance gasped and grabbed his throat, pretending to choke himself.
"Why do we only have battery operated controllers? Where did you even GET batteries in the first place?" Keith said, exasperated.
"Hush! Coran has the others! WHOEVER GETS THERE FIRST WINS!" Lance sprinted down the hall. Keith could practically see the dust trail in his wake. Man, this castle needed a good dusting.
Keith got up and followed Lance down the hall. He could hear him gloating. "KEITH! EAT MY DUST!"
Technically, Keith was eating Lance's dust. Yeah, this castle was dusty as shit.
Honestly? Keith just wanted to be left alone. He couldn't bond normally with Lance, apparently. He'd tried. Asking normal questions, trying to hang out and just chill. Somehow, Lance would always find a way to make it a competition. it always fell back to this weird dynamic between them. So what was the point?
Still, not wanting to lose to Lance, Keith took off at a sprint down the hall.
—
Lance didn't know why he kept losing, but it was definitely Keith's fault. They used to be so evenly matched. Keith would win, then Lance, then Keith, then Lance. It all depended on what they were good at. Hell, they tied a lot of the time.
But lately, Lance was so distracted. He kept fixating on the stupidest things, like Keith's ugly mullet, like the way he would push it back when he got really into a game, and it would curl from the contact with his fingers, and Lance could see the nape of his neck when he turned around, see the sweat glistening on Keith's pale skin, from the game he was winning-
Fuck. Speaking of Keith winning...
"What is up with you?" Keith said in frustration, tossing down the controller. "First, you beg me to play your game, then, you don't even put up a proper fight?"
"I am fighting!" Lance protested weakly. His face burned. He watched Keith peel off his gloves. The boy cracked his fingers and leaned back, letting his head dip over the side of the couch. Leaving his neck exposed. Lance quickly diverted his eyes.
Keith must be a witch, he thought. That was the only explanation for why he couldn't think about anything else BUT Keith. It was a curse. Some weird Blade of Marmora shit. Voodoo.
Furthermore, Lance was sick of losing. All he did was lose. Constant reminders of how inferior he was to Keith. He had a visual reminder of that every single day already, when ladies flocked to Keith's distant bad boy persona, and away from Lance. Keith didn't even have the damn decency to be interested in girls. What a waste!
Lance was so, SO sick of losing to stupid beautiful Keith.
There was ONE thing where Lance knew he had a guaranteed advantage over Keith. In the interest of being a good sportsman, he'd never challenged Keith. Now? screw sportsmanship! Lance needed a self esteem boost.
Lance loved the water. Launching himself into the cool, open arms of a pool, floating on the surface and feeling the heat of the sun on his face and the cold water on his back, winning. It was welcoming yet free. Water was home.
He missed his swim team. Lance was the captain. There, he was the hero. Everyone looked up to him. He was a local champion. His coach begged him to stay the day he left for the Garrison. Lance had countless trophies sitting at home, lovingly polished by his mother once a year.
Then, he went to the Garrison, and his self esteem took a giant hit. Who was to blame for that? Pretty, perfect Keith.
The days when he swam? Those were the days when he won. And yes, he was about to use that to his advantage.
Lance turned and looked at Keith. Keith looked up, his slender pale fingers gripping the table. "You got an explanation?" Keith said.
—
"I guess I'm just not that good at it anymore," Lance said calmly, in a very unLancelike way.
"What!?" Keith said. "Since when? It's your favorite game!"
"I'd rather do something else."
"Like?"
"How do you feel about swimming?"
Keith couldn't swim. He just never really… got around to it. You pretty much needed a parent to teach you, and Keith didn't see any of those in his life. Shiro'd offered to teach him, but at that point Keith was too set in his ways. If he couldn't swim, then swimming was stupid, and he had much better things to do. Besides, how hard could it be? You flung yourself in some water and moved your limbs. It looked pretty easy the few times he'd walked past Lance at the pool.
Maybe Lance just made it look easy. He'd shoot through the water like an arrow, like it didn't even touch him. And he'd have the biggest smile on his face when he did it. And he'd get out of the water, towel wrapped around his head, smooth tan skin wrinkled from his time in the water, and he would laugh.
If there was anything Keith envied in Lance, that was it. Not that he was jealous. He'd never be jealous of Lance. Anything Lance could do, he could figure out too.
"You're on," Keith said.
"Really?" Lance asked. "Sure you can swim?"
—
"Bet I can swim better than you!" Keith retorted.
"Fine, then we're on! Tomorrow at dawn!" Lance raised a finger to the sky
"Dawn? What is wrong with you! Noon!"
"Yeah, noon," Lance agreed. He'd gotten a little carried away.
Keith glared suspiciously at Lance and turned, stalking down the hall.
Allura tapped Lance's shoulder as he was leaving. "Lance! Clean up your mess! Lance!" Lance became all too aware that he was 1) completely zoned out watching Keith walk down the hall, 2) obsessing over Keith again, and 3) looking like a complete idiot in front of Allura, the girl he'd had a crush on for the past year.
"Yeah, Yeah," he mumbled and stooped down to pick up the batteries he had flung on the floor in anger upon losing the match.
Yes, this was unhealthy, Lance thought. He shouldn't be enabling himself and here he was. But damn, he wanted to win so bad. Maybe then he'd be able to get Keith out of his head.
If he was underwater, he reasoned, he wouldn't have to look at Keith.
—
Why was Lance the way that he was? For someone so outgoing, he was ending up to be a lot more confusing than Keith.
Keith preferred having space. He preferred coming to people, rather than the other way around. It's not like he hated people. Keith liked spending time with people, getting to know who they were through the small subtle things. Becoming familiar with their rhythms, their voices, the way they were. He just didn't get Lance.
How was Keith supposed to have a bonding moment with Lance when all Lance wanted to do was fight Keith? And now he was getting pulled further into the foolishness, and for what? Proving himself to Lance? Understanding him? No matter how many games he played with Lance, it was all surface level.
Maybe Lance is only surface level because he's stupid, Keith thought, and laughed to himself.
No. There was something there. Something Keith would be able to understand. If it took taking Lance up on his crazy challenges to figure it out, then fine. Keith would swim, dammit, and he'd be damn good at it.
The next day, Keith peeled himself out of bed and pulled his (unused) swim trunks on. On the way to the pool, Hunk passed by, and stopped.
"I thought you didn't know how to swim, Keith," Hunk said, worry in his eyes.
Damn Hunk. He cared too much. Noticed things Keith would never catch in people. That was why Hunk clicked so well with Lance. With everyone, really.
"I know enough, Hunk. Don't worry about it." Keith said, and walked into the pool room.
"TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, KEITH," Lance called. He was floating lazily in the deep end on his back, gazing at the ceiling.
Keith tried really, really hard not to look at Lance's chest, which was RIGHT THERE and glowing at him like a neon sign. He failed.
Kid had decent abs for hardly working out.
Keith shook himself and walked up to the edge, looking at himself in the clear water. He looked nervous. "Can we get on with this?" He said.
"Yeah," Lance said. "the faster I destroy you, the better." he pulled his dripping body out of the water and casually walked over.
"In your dreams," Keith retorted.
Lance poised himself at the edge. "On 3?" He said.
Shit shit shit-Keith wasn't ready-he was panicking-he did not know how to swim at all- WHY WAS HE DOING THIS FOR LANCE?
"3!"
The water was staring at Keith. Shit. Shit. He'd sweat enough in these past few seconds to fill the pool.
"2!"
This better be worth it, Keith thought in a panic.
"1!" Lance crowed, and neatly dove into the water. His body was a straight line, bisecting the surface,
hardly leaving a ripple as he shot forward.
Keith copied Lance, plunging clumsily into the water. Its coolness enveloped him. He began to move. Swimming isn't so bad, Keith thought.
Unfortunately, he wasn't making any forward progress.
—
Lance was soaring. His lungs burned. The water furiously lapped at his skin, but he could hardly feel it. He was already hurtling towards the end of the lane. He grinned, but stayed focused. There was no way Keith was gonna beat him in his element.
He reached the end and called out, "Beat that, Mullet!" He tensed to push off the wall and finish the lap. Until he realized Keith had not replied. Keith would never pass up a good chance to insult Lance. "Keith?"
There were no answering calls from the water. Lance saw no trace of that familiar mullet poking up from the surface. "FUCK! KEITH!" Panic shot through his heart. A splash answered him from the other end of the pool.
Lance quickly submerged himself and looked around. Keith was on the other side, sinking to the bottom, furiously moving his limbs with a determined expression on his face. Holding his nose, how cute. As Lance watched, Keith lost his grip on his nose, sucked in water, and began to cough.
Lance flew through the water, stretching his hands out to grab Keith, pulling him up, and then they were out by the poolside, Keith coughing. Lance clutched Keith's chest to him, breathing hard.
"I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU COULD SWIM!" Lance bellowed, feeling somewhat better now that Keith wasn't dead. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOUR PARENTS TAUGHT YOU, BUT-"
"I THOUGHT I COULD FIGURE IT OUT!" Keith yelled, his face flushed.
Lance had never seen Keith so embarrassed. Was failure his weakness? He saw an opportunity and he took it. Lance leaned in really close to Keith's face, till he was almost touching his nose, his lips right next to Keith's, and he could see the red tinge in Keith's cheeks. "Saved your life," he breathed. Then he winked, and his eyelashes brushed Keith's cheek like a kiss.
"SHUT! UP!" Keith cried. He pushed Lance away and ran out of the room. Keith's coughs echoed down the hallway as he ran.
Lance sat there, cold, in a puddle of water and confusion. So he'd been a bit of a dick. He'd also saved Keith's life.
How was he supposed to know Keith couldn't swim? He wanted to hang out with Keith, not kill him.
—
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Why can't you do anything right?
Keith sat on his bed. He had no intention of leaving his room until night came. Then everyone would be fucking asleep and Keith could keep what little dignity he had left.
All he wanted to do was bond with Lance. That was it. Instead he subjected himself to one of the most mortifying moments of his life.
Keith should have known he was being stupid. He should have known it wouldn't work out. How could he expect himself to learn just by throwing himself in the water?
Stupid Lance and his perfect swimming.
How could he forget Lance's eyelashes brushing his cheek? Their touch felt engraved into his face. Laying on Lance, Lance pulling him out of the water, Lance holding his chest- FUCK. It was embarrassing, alright?
Keith was gonna spend a lot of time by himself from now on, Lance and his swimming and his eyelashes be damned. At least then he wouldn't make an utter fool of himself.
—
Lance was confused.
He tried to think about it from Keith's perspective. Fuck up on that level? Pretending to do something he couldn't and, predictably, fail at it? Yeah, he understood that. It sucked.
But he didn't know what to do about it. Keith was about as approachable as a cactus. He was from Texas. It made sense.
He would ask Hunk, but the last thing Lance wanted to do was humiliate Keith further. He'd keep this to himself.
Despite all his pestering, Lance really hadn't gotten anywhere. He leaned back on his bed and closed his eyes.
Maybe that was it. From what physics Lance could remember, Some obstacles were immovable no matter how much force you applied. They were heavy, but if you applied too much force, they'd break. All his constant irritation did was hurt Keith. Maybe he had to take a different approach.
Keith sat in the atrium every day, by himself, watching the stars. He liked the quiet. Lance was the exact opposite of quiet.
At first, Lance couldn't understand why Keith would want to look at the same stuff all the time. He was too impatient. But now, looking at the stars surrounding the ship, Lance got it. They changed. Slowly, subtly, as the ship moved through space, the stars around them would shift.
The stars would light his way to Keith.
Lance walked through the ship, a man on a mission. Allura stood at her usual controls. Her forehead was knitted in concentration. She looked as radiant as usual.
"Allura, which constellations are around us now?"
Allura looked up, her concentration broken. "Right now?"
"If you're not too busy."
Allura sighed and smiled. She gazed at the expanse of space wrapping around the ship, and began to type into her keypad. "From what I can see here, there's Hermes, Bandoqua, the Rabbit- why?"
Lance peered over her shoulder at the display, committing it to memory. "Just curious," he said.
"Don't bother me if it isn't important!" Allura scolded, but Lance had already walked out of the room.
Lance knew where to find him. After all, he'd been coming and bothering Keith at the same spot every day. Keith was an enigma, but he was predictable.
There Keith sat, hunched over on himself, looking out into the sky.
"Keith."
Keith looked at Lance, a question in his wide eyes. Lance wanted to count each and every star he saw reflected in them. But that wasn't exactly realistic, so he settled for sitting next to Keith. Keith was tense, guarded, stiff. Likely still embarrassed from earlier.
"That one over there," Lance pointed at a constellation. "They call it Hermes, like the Greek God. Cause it looks like a lil messenger flying away."
Keith glanced at Lance, an odd look in his eye.
"And that one? They call it the rabbit. 'Cause it looks like a rabbit."
Keith's body relaxed.
Lance really didn't want to mix up his words. Keith seemed like a fragile guy, deep down. He sat in silence, thinking on what to say.
"I know it sucks to mess up," Lance said. "I mess up all the time."
Keith snorted. "Yeah, I know."
"Shut up, Keith. I'm trying to be comforting." He tries to help Keith and this is how he acts? Typical.
"Good try." Keith whispered.
Lance decided to throw away the last of his pride. "Look, I know you think I'm a total loser."
Keith drew in his breath. Lance dared to look up at him, just for a second. He looked startled and hurt. Like a baby deer.
"Lance. I don't think you're a loser."
"It's less a thought, and more of an unavoidable fact." Lance stared at his knees, praying to himself, cursing the tears that were unexplainably welling up in his eyes. "I do a lot of stupid shit sometimes, I know. I just figured if I could win against you, I'd be worth something compared to you."
"Lance-" Keith said, slowly reaching towards him.
"It just feels so weird that I'm the one sitting here comforting you right now, when I'm the resident fuckup, not you. You're the perfect one. You're the one I want to be like. YOU should be comforting ME."
Keith laughed softly. "Lance, I'm not perfect. Clearly."
"Even when you fuck up, it's perfect." Lance whispers.
"Lance, I'm gonna be honest with you here. Look at me."
Lance's eyes met Keith's. He shivered. Keith's vivid purple eyes were like an electric shock.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Keith whispered, and his lip trembled. "I've been trying so hard to figure you out and I just can't pin you down."
Lance swallowed. His throat was dry. Why would Keith care about him that much? He's never shown that much interest before. He just put up with Lance's needy pestering.
"Why would you care?" Lance said.
Keith's eyes fell away. "Just because I'm not good at this stuff doesn't mean I don't care. I fucked up on it again. I look like a total idiot. Fuck." He turned away from Lance, putting one hand on the floor and leaning his head into his knees.
Lance felt like Keith was so much clearer now. Like he'd handed Lance a pair of glasses and now he could see Keith's thoughts in HD.
Lance put his hand on Keith's. "I get it," he said.
—
Lance was touching his hand. Code red.
Keith was so, so happy. He felt like he'd split open, like a smile was about to bust out from under his skin. the moment was delicate. The wrong move and it could all fall apart. But damn, did he want more than this.
Lance was nervous too. Keith could feel his hand trembling on Keith's. Like a tiny heartbeat. He wanted to capture that trembling in a jar, just for him.
Keith pulled his hand out from under Lance's, wanting to interlace fingers.
—-
Keith was moving. Lance was currently panicking and second guessing himself. Did I go too far? Did I move too fast? Lance slowly withdrew his hand.
Keith grabbed Lance's retreating hand, stopping its shaking. He laced his fingers with Lance's and rubbed Lance's hand with his thumb.
Lance's hand was on fire. Keith was warm and present and very here and he could feel the sweat gathering between their palms but he didn't care.
Lance flushed. He hoped the dim light reflected on them from the stars wouldn't reveal that fact. "You're not so bad, Mullet," he said.
"Whatever," Keith said. He hesitated. "You're not so bad, either."
Technically, Lance was watching the stars with Keith. But he was spending so much of that time glancing at Keith, that really, he was watching Keith with Keith. And it was beautiful.
—-
Keith was watching Lance with Lance. The stars could wait.