It had been exactly a year since Keith had last touched his guitar. The last 365 days he let it sit, under his bed, while he wrapped up his hands and readied his punching bag. For months he put it at the back of his mind while he took care of Shiro, played video games with Pidge, and iced his own bruises. But for some reason, today, he took it out again. On the anniversary of his band's first tour, and their last. The strings were cold and out of tune, but he couldn't bring himself to pluck. He was about to shove it back under and forget about music for the rest of his life when Shiro called him from the living room. "Keith, you've got to come see this!"
He shook himself before running in to see what Shiro was on about. He was greeted by his best friends gesturing at their tiny television. "Listen to this guy sing!" On the screen, there was a duo performing, singing and beatboxing. The main singer's voice hit Keith with the force of a knockout punch. His singing was Beautiful. Pidge smirked a little as Keith failed to hide his slackening jaw. "He's local, you know." The song was a cover of a popular tune from a few years before, but Keith couldn't help but think that this guy was so much better. The show crew never shared his name, but Keith did take note of the group – "On the Rocket" After the song, Keith was almost disappointed to see the next person come on stage. It was only when the familiar face of the announcer came on that Keith realized what he was watching.
"Why are you watching the graduation performances?" Keith scoffed. His friends immediately turned to him, their faces softened.
Shiro spoke up. "Keith, you're not our only friend who went to the University, you know." He spoke gently, but Keith was still sour. A year ago, he had dropped out of school to start boxing, even though he has wanted to study music theory. Pidge and Keith were watching the live broadcast of the same school's graduation ceremony; it was something Keith never got to perform in. His band wanted to tour the state during that summer break, but their first show had resulted in a bad accident on stage. Their punk group, known then as "Out there" broke up the next day. The only member that Keith still knew was Shiro, their drummer.
"Whatever." Keith spat. "I'm going for a run." He grabbed a jacket as he headed out, and Shiro waved goodbye with his good arm.
Exercise helped Keith clear his mind, and was essential in his line of work. Keith liked to run along the concrete riverbeds because they reminded him of the rural streams he used to run by as a kid. He ran towards the sunset, not really caring how late it was. It was dark when he decided to turn back.
While on the jog home, Keith noticed a figure crouched next to the riverbed. Not really knowing what he was doing, he stopped to check on the guy.
"Hey, you okay, guy?" Was literally what he called out, and he immediately wanted to stab himself in the foot.
"Uh, yeah." The figure said, his voice cracking a little. "I'm kinda hiding out here."
Keith raised an eyebrow. This guy's voice was familiar. "You in trouble or something?"
The figure chuckled a little. "Of course not! I'm just avoiding my sister. Why are you out here?"
...
Today was either the best or the worst day in Lance's life. He was so elated that he got to perform at the Graduation ceremony. It had taken them(read: mostly Hunk) so much work to even get the school to recognise a two-person acapella group, much less let a couple of sophomores perform at a seniors-only event. It felt like the whole world had heard him sing. And now, he was running into this really hot, athletic guy... It was like the entire universe gave off a payday feeling. But then, he remembered why he was out there, to begin with.
His beautiful, wonderful sister, the frikin' goddess Allura was coming to congratulate him, and he could not handle that. His sister, who went to Harvard and married a lawyer, who was only two years older but had her whole life planned out, the pride of the family, was coming to see him. He loved his sister and knew that she thought the world of him, but Lance couldn't help but feel unworthy. He had gone against what he was supposed to do. He wanted to major in music, he wanted to sing. It had been a year since he spoke to Allura, and Lance feared nothing more than his families disappointment.
Lance bit his lip and tried to focus on the conversation. Here was the best distraction Lance could ever ask for: romance. The mysterious jogger wasn't Lance's usual type, but man, was he pretty. "Sounds like you're not too up for going home either." Lance pointed out, as the stranger tried to avoid stating the reason to take a jog in the middle of the night. "Why don't we head to the Denny's a block from here and kill the time? I'll give you my two cents if I can hear yours." He tried for his most dashing smile.
The stranger looked taken aback. "Uh. Ok."
They walked all the way there in awkward silence. They sat down in a booth and poked at the glasses of water their server gave them.
"I'm Lance, by the way. Lance McClain ."
The stranger pushed the hair out of his face. "I'm Keith."
Fuck was he cute. Turns out, Keith really likes waffles.
Lance was a good conversationalist, but Keith was a tough nut to crack. They talked for a while, but Lance still knew almost nothing about the guy.
"Do you go to school near here?"
"Nope"
"Oh, so you work, then?"
"Yep."
"I got to the Uni."
"..."
"So... What's the story behind you?"
"Sorry?"
"The story. Why you're the kind of person who runs in deserted areas at night, stopping to talk to random guys."
"I don't normally do that."
"Then why today?"
Keith shifted, clearly a little uncomfortable. His hands were rough, but his face was really soft looking. "It's not important."
Lance took the hint. "Hey, what do you do for fun?" he asked.
Special thanks to lilbow3 for pointing out some mistakes
