A Small Look At The Present…

"Shiro –Shiro-Shiro-Shiro," Lance said in a rush. He ran a hand through his hair and stared wide-eyed at Shiro's back. "My man. My buddy. You can't be serious? Like, good joke, ya know? But you can't be serious!"

Keith turned his glare away from Lance and sighed as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "You really don't think this is at all ridiculous, Shiro?"

Shiro turned the key in the lock and pushed the door of the old cabin open before stepping back to glare at the two planted at the bottom of the steps of the small front porch.

"You know what I think is ridiculous?" Shiro said in a low voice as he walked back down the stairs and tossed the keys in the general direction of the two of them. He watched Keith's hand reach up and effortlessly swipe the keys from the air. "I think it's ridiculous for two grown men to start a food fight with each other, inciting an even larger food fight between the fifty-four small children currently under our care."

"It was Keith's fault," Lance interjected.

He could practically feel the heat from Keith's glare return to the side of his face. He thought about how Keith might be handy to have around in the winter. You know, chase away the winter chills with his death stares. But in the middle of July? In the middle of a non-air-conditioned, how-can-it-be-this-humid heatwave?

"The glare isn't helpful," Lance shot off in Keith's direction.

"You're not helpful," Keith retorted as he angrily crossed his arms across his chest.

Shiro sighed, at least a month of summer days' worth of suffering and annoyance conveyed with a single expelled breath.

Keith refocused as he caught Shiro moving even further away. "Wait, Shiro —"

"Don't give me those damn puppy dog eyes," Shiro muttered, turning away from both of them and beginning to walk back down the trail.

"But —"

"No."

"My kids are going to want to know what happened to their favorite counselor?" Lance tried.

"You actually have to call in replacement counselors!" Keith added. "That has to be a hassle, right?"

Shiro turned his head in their direction, although he didn't stop walking. "You ruined Hunk's meal and made him cry."

Lance's shoulders sank and his guilty eyes lowered to the dirt beneath his scuffed-up running shoes — a few ketchup stains stared back up at him, remnants of the epic battle.

"You managed to get food stuck in Pidge's AV equipment."

Now it was Keith's turn to look guilty. He clenched his jaw and also dropped his gaze.

"Really, sticking you guys out here in the middle of nowhere could be considered doing you a favor."

Both Keith and Lance tensed. Neither would admit it out loud, but Shiro had a very valid point there.

"You should probably be thanking me," Shiro called out, far enough away now to have to raise his voice to be heard clearly. "I'll be back for you in a day or two. You better have figured out how to work together by then!"

They both stood still and silent until they couldn't see Shiro through the trees anymore.

"This is all your fault," Lance muttered before he stalked up the stairs to enter the cabin.

Keith tilted his head back to stare up at what he could see of the darkening sky through the tall trees, and wondered why the universe was punishing him like this.


A Quick Glance To The Past…

Keith was feeling pretty warm. And it wasn't from the gross, lukewarm beer he was stuck drinking at this end-of-summer frat house party, but from the blue-eyed boy who'd grabbed him the second he'd set foot in this dumb party — that Shiro insisted he attend because it would be good for him — and had then begged him to be his competition partner.

Keith watched now as those blue eyes focused intently on the red cups situated at Keith's end of the table. He'd never seen eyes that blue. And he was pretty sure he'd been caught staring a few times.

The blue-eyed boy didn't seem to mind though. In fact, Keith was fairly certain that the other boy was flirting with him, if the winks and smiles were anything to go by. Plus there was the fact that every time it was Keith's turn, he heard an encouraging "You've got this, pretty boy," murmured across the table.

Which had its drawbacks, because Keith could feel a bright red blush creep up his neck and cover his face at the compliment every damn time

And he could see why his partner had been so insistent on playing in the tournament — the blue-eyed boy's aim was impeccable, and he made every shot he lobbed across the table — whether it be via ping pong ball or flirty glance. Knowing this didn't stop Keith from raptly watching him with every attempt, because this was practically a show. Those blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he picked out which cup he was going to aim for, there was a quick deep breath that actually lifted his broad shoulders momentarily, a slight hip wiggle — Dear Shiro, thank you for making me come to this party tonight, love Keith — and then the toss. The ping pong ball would land in the intended cup, and the person next to Keith would groan or whine before picking that cup up to drink.

A half smile lifted Keith's lips as he watched the girl next to him do so now, before he glanced back across the table at his tournament partner, who had been in the middle of a victory dance — Keith really shouldn't take his eyes off that boy, he'd been missing out on more hip wiggles — but he stopped dancing when he saw Keith's grin aimed at him. The goofy grin that accompanied the victory dance slipped into a softer curve, and he sent a sincere smile back in Keith's direction.

There was loud whooping and cheering from the other students who had been watching the game, all noise Keith could've done without, before one of his arms was being lifted, as was one of his partner's arms, by two of the party hosts as they were declared the winners of the evening.

"What no trophies?" he could hear his teammate ask as he laughed and lit up the room with his broad grin.

There were more congratulatory pats on the back before Keith felt a tug on his wrist as the blue-eyed boy dragged him away from the larger crowd and into the quieter kitchen with a smile that was now aimed not for the adoring fans, but for Keith alone.

"Thank you for jumping in to play with me like that. That was amazing!"

At least, that's what Keith thought he said; he was having a hard time focusing as he realized this boy's hands were suddenly in his hair, pushing his bangs away from his face and leaning forward as if to peer into his soul — er, eyes — directly.

"Although, I have no idea how you were able to even see the cups with all that hair in your eyes!"

Then long, brown fingers curled some of Keith's hair around an ear, and Keith felt himself actually leaning into it. But then the fingers were gone, busily digging through a cooler, and Keith did his best to keep his expression under control before this guy turned back around to him and offered up a drink with that same bright smile on his face. Keith took the can and tried to center his attention on that instead. At least he was finally being treated to beer that was actually cold.

"Hunk usually plays with me, but he canceled at the last minute. Though, you've got way better aim than Hunk!" he added with a chuckle. "And the guy may be my best friend, but I'll tell you that he doesn't have a competitive bone in his body. Plus, he's always apologizing to the other team when he actually makes a shot!" He laughed again, clearly more amused by his friend Hunk's antics than he wanted to let on. "But don't ever tell him I said you're better than he is!"

Keith had been staring again. He liked the way blue-eyed boy's mouth moved when he spoke, and he liked the fondness he could hear in his voice in regards to his friend. He forced himself to concentrate, though, when he realized an answer was expected from him.

"I don't know Hunk. I don't even know your name."

Keith watched the other boy freeze, his mouth open comically as he realized that while grabbing Keith and pleading for a beer pong partner, he'd never introduced himself.

"Lance," he finally said. "And I guess I didn't get your name, either?"

"Not with you calling me pretty boy all night," Keith muttered.

"Well —" and Lance looked sheepish for the first time all night as his eyes traveled over Keith's face, "I'm not wrong."

And holy shit with the blushing again. If Keith could scowl at the skin on his own face, he would. The only plus here was that the blushing was driving Lance's sheepish smile away — it just didn't look right on Lance's face — leading him to grin widely in Keith's direction again.

"I'm Keith," he finally managed to say.

"Well, Keith, when you meet Hunk in the future," — said as if Keith meeting Lance's friend was a definite thing that would happen and Keith was suddenly feeling even warmer — "if you tell him I said you're a better shot, I'll invent a time machine and come back here and wreak havoc!"

Keith laughed, and didn't miss the way a hand at the small of his back led him on through the kitchen and out a back door.

"Wreak havoc?"

And Lance must've leaned in closer because suddenly his breath was on Keith's neck, "Oh, I can wreak havoc, trust me."

And Keith took a long drink, doing his best to cool down in any way possible. Because he'd only just met this boy, and it was way too soon to be thinking of all the ways he'd willingly allow Lance to wreak havoc with him.

They bypassed a few other people on the back porch, and Keith continued to let himself be led until they were sitting at the bottom of the wooden stairs of the deck. There wasn't much space left between them, and their knees were already knocking together in the short amount of time they'd been sitting there, but Keith found he didn't mind. Being this close, he was treated to how nice this boy smelled, kind of like sunblock and the ocean, even though this university was a good two hours from the closest beach. Keith tilted his head as Lance continued to grin and teasingly threaten punishment if this guy Hunk's feelings were ever hurt, with no idea that his very presence was making Keith think of lounging in the sun on lazy summer days.

So, yeah, Keith felt pretty warm.

"You believe in time machines?" Keith asked.

"I think they'd be a pretty helpful gadget to have in your back pocket." Lance continued quickly when he saw one of Keith's eyebrows quirk in interest. "Not for like, major world stuff. Don't put me in charge of saving the universe or anything. But for, like, small mistakes? Like say I missed a shot in beer pong, I could back jump ten seconds and have a redo."

"A time machine for beer pong?" Keith asked dryly.

"Not just beer pong!"

Keith rolled his eyes and released his best disappointed sigh. Then he watched those bright blue eyes narrow and knew Lance couldn't tell if he was truly making fun of him or not. He prolonged the poor guy's torture by taking another drink before finally allowing half his mouth to quirk up in a grin while knocking their knees together once more. The flash of relief in Lance's eyes was sweet, Keith decided. He wasn't used to anyone — other than Shiro — caring what he thought. He almost felt bad for teasing the guy.

"Jerk," Lance muttered through his own grin. "Besides, being beer pong champions is very serious business!"

"Very serious," Keith mocked back with a nod.

"The champions are expected to do charity work."

"Really?"

"Kiss babies, help old ladies cross the street —"

"Since when?"

"Plus, there's all the ribbon cutting ceremonies we'll be booked for, although I'm fairly awesome with scissors, so I might do all the cutting while you just stand by and look pretty."

Goddammit with the blushing again.

Lance chuckled beside him, and Keith knew then Lance had definitely noticed how easily he could make Keith blush. He was quickly distracted from his embarrassment, though, as Lance bumped fully into Keith's side in his effort to lean over enough to pull his phone from his pocket.

"I better take our first official championship photo, in fact. We're gonna need it for the Wheaties' boxes."

And it was the only warning Keith got before one of Lance's arms looped around his shoulders and pulled him in close while the other hand lifted the phone to get a good angle for a picture. Keith glanced up at the screen, giving him a perfect view of how nice they looked pressed together.

And when Lance murmured, "Smile, pretty boy," right into his ear, he had to look away from his blushing face on the screen, leaving the captured image to include Lance grinning at the camera, and Keith trying and failing to glare at Lance. And when he got a chance to see the picture they'd taken, he was forced to admit to himself that the small fond smile he had pinned on Lance's face wasn't anything close to a glare. He lifted his eyes away from the picture in order to see Lance's reaction, and found Lance had a matching, small fond smile as he continued to stare down at the screen.

And when he glanced up again, Keith finally finally had the pleasure of seeing some pink cover the brown skin of Lance's face.

"Will you put your number in here?" Lance asked quietly as he held his phone out towards Keith.

Keith took the phone, and selfishly let his fingers slide over Lance's as he did so. "Only if you're going to take me out for food after the ribbon cutting ceremonies."

Lance's laugh was quiet as he watched Keith type in his number. "I'll take you wherever you want."

The soft, sincere tone of voice wasn't lost on Keith, and he found himself smiling again when Lance's fingers trailed over his own as the phone was returned. He watched Lance tap a few things on his screen and then felt a vibration in his pocket, leading him to swipe open his own phone to reveal a new text that consisted of a string of emojis — more alien heads than anything else — from an unknown number.

"Do you believe in aliens?" Keith asked, zeroing in on the numerous little green heads in the text from Lance so that he wouldn't get carried away by the butterflies he felt from earning Lance's number so easily.

Lance's sheepish chuckle was back and Keith lifted his eyes to him.

"What?"

"Maybe you should answer first," Lance said, lifting his eyes up to the night sky. "I already admitted I'd really like a short-term time machine to carry around in my back pocket. I don't want to scare you off with too much weird at once."

Keith chuckled at that, as if this boy who radiated summer could scare him off. He bumped his shoulder into Lance's to get his attention again, and then held up his phone as an offer.

"Whoa," Lance said, and he pulled Keith's phone into his own hand for a better look at his screen's background. "Is this a photo or —"

"I drew it."

"You drew this?"

Keith nodded. The impressed smile on Lance's face was doing funny things to his stomach.

"I just think space is so vast, right?"

Lance nodded quickly in agreement. "And we have no idea what's out there!"

"Exactly. So, I like to imagine different constellations and planets that we probably can't even see, and draw them out."

"This is amazing," Lance whispered as he continued to stare down at an orange planet, and Keith's own constellation-creation of stars, all surrounded by a purple background of space. He lifted his eyes back to Keith. "Do you have more?"

"Yeah, here," Keith said as he lifted a necklace that had been tucked under his shirt and traded it to Lance for his phone.

The necklace itself was a black leather thread, and Lance's fingers soon wrapped themselves around the main focus, a piece of metal the size and shape of a dogtag that hung from it. Keith watched Lance's eyes zoom in on the image pressed onto the metal — this one had two planets, one red and one blue, surrounded by a different set of Keith-imagined constellations.

"My cousin does crafty shit with kids all the time," Keith said with a fond chuckle, "and he showed me how to press the image into the metal like that."

"This is seriously cool, Keith," Lance said, his voice still low as he reverently let his fingers slide over the image.

"Why don't you keep it?"

"Really?" Lance's fingers were already tightening around the metal.

"Yeah, call it your beer pong trophy."

Lance beamed at him as he wrapped his arms around Keith and pulled him into a hug. Keith had only barely managed to wrap an arm around Lance in return when his phone buzzed again in his hands. He pulled back to glance at the screen, already pretty certain who was messaging him.

"My ride is here," he said reluctantly as he stood up from the step. He chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced back down at Lance. "Do you need a ride?"

Lance stood as well, and he slipped his new necklace around his neck as he did so. "No, my dorm is practically across the street. Thanks, though."

"Okay," Keith said, and forced himself to take a step away from the warmth he could feel from Lance. He paused for a moment, though, and couldn't help but openly smile at the sight of his artwork hanging around Lance's neck.

Lance grinned in return. "I'll call you, pretty boy."

Keith nodded before forcing himself to turn and head off around the side of the house.


Hunk had pretty much convinced Lance that he'd developed a crush on a ghost.

Lance didn't tell Hunk that he'd pretty much convinced him of the ghost theory. Hunk was just joking, after all. And he believed that Lance knew he was joking.

But Lance had reached the point where pretty boy was obviously a ghost was a realistic option. Because pretty boy — Keith — had disappeared. Like off the planet.

Lance had left that party right after Keith, and had waited approximately five whole seconds on his own walk home before sending Keith a text.

Lance: So there's a diner on 5th street already requesting our ribbon cutting services in the morning

He'd glanced both ways before crossing a street, hopping himself up on the opposite sidewalk that led straight to his dorm building. He was pulling his key card out when his phone buzzed.

Keith: You gonna share the scissors?

Lance grinned as he climbed the stairs in his building and forced himself to at least get into his room before sending a follow-up text.

Lance: Nope. But I'll buy you waffles after I wow the crowd with my ribbon cutting skills

He'd gotten himself ready for bed and slid happily under his blankets before picking his phone up again, expecting another text from Keith. But there wasn't another text. Nor was there one waiting for him in the morning, which prompted Lance to send another, in case Keith hadn't understood that he was actually waiting on an answer.

Lance: So waffle date this morning?

He waited for almost two hours before Hunk finally dragged him out of their dorm and to the very diner he'd mentioned to Keith. He told Hunk all about the pretty boy he'd met the night before, even thanked Hunk for ditching him that night, before they both began to excitedly talk about their upcoming junior year and what classes they'd signed up for.

Although, he did keep half an eye on the door of the diner, even though he'd never suggested a time to Keith.

But Keith never appeared. Nor did he ever text back. Hunk suggested he try again that afternoon, in case Keith had slept the morning away. So he did.

But that one went unanswered as well.

So, honestly, Lance had gone to that frat party to blow off some steam. He hadn't gone expecting to meet someone he'd actually like to spend more time with. Someone who was almost too pretty to look at, who blushed easily, who treated him to fond smiles, who loved space as much as he did, and who had given him a freaking necklace covered in personal artwork. But meeting Keith had shown Lance exactly what he was missing. And now he wanted it. He wanted more of that warm feeling he got when Keith smiled. And more of the heat he'd felt any time they'd touched. He wanted more laughs, and more eye rolls, and just more more.

And while he'd been blown off before, something about this didn't sit right with him, and he found himself fidgeting with the necklace Keith had given him as he thought about it. Keith hadn't given him a fake number, and he'd even responded to Lance's initial mention of the diner with his own clever text, all of which suggested a real interest.

So, feeling only slightly creepy about it, Lance went looking for him online, except that Keith hadn't put his last name in Lance's phone. So with just his first name and his pretty face to go by, he searched through a few different social media sites. And when that didn't pan out, he returned to that same frat house the following Saturday night. He didn't exactly expect Keith to be there, but he did ask around to see if anyone else knew him. And unfortunately that hadn't led anywhere either.

So, to recap, either Keith had been abducted by aliens to be a defender of the universe, or he was a ghost. The ghost suggestion was creepy to think about, of course. And kind of tossed all his ghost theories out the window, considering Keith hadn't been transparent. Plus, not only had Lance had his hands on him a couple times that night, but he could distinctly remember how warm Keith's skin had been.

Of course, if Keith wasn't a ghost — or stuck in space somewhere — then the only other option was that Keith just hadn't been that interested in Lance. Keith had had his fun with Lance that night, and then had found it fairly easy to forget all about Lance.

He wasn't sure why he couldn't forget all about Keith.

Sometimes it made him angry with himself. But, most of the time — in the ten months that passed before he saw Keith again — it just left him feeling hollow.


Each camp counselor was given a three ring binder stuffed full of rules, regulations, activities, and schedules. He pretended to read as he flipped through his binder, fully aware that Hunk was actually reading through his own binder where he sat next to him. Lance was busy eyeing the other counselors, all of whom also appeared to be college-aged. Quite a few people drew his eyes for second glances, especially one girl in particular whose long blonde hair was pulled up in two high ponytails.

He'd been lucky to get this job this summer, as this was going to look great on his resume when he went to apply for his first real teaching position next spring. The fact that he'd managed to convince Hunk to apply to work as camp chef, allowing them to spend their final college summer together, was just a fun bonus.

Lance's knee jiggling under the table drew Hunk's attention and he subtly watched Lance check out the other counselors. Lance had gone to quite a few parties this past school year, and while he'd flirt and joke, no one had really captured his interest. There had been no crushes. No kissing. No anything.

From Hunk's point of view, it was kind of great. There was a shit-ton less drama, Lance was acing his classes since almost all of his attention had been diverted to his studies, and Hunk hadn't once even thought about reminding Lance to practice safe sex. But, as a dutiful best friend, he was also forced to admit that the whole thing was kind of awful. Because a Lance who had zero interest in making a real connection with someone else was a sad Lance whose eyes had lost some of their color. Hunk couldn't help but secretly hope someone would catch Lance's attention this summer.

Although, Hunk thought as he sent a shy smile to the cute girl with the short brown hair who kept glancing his way from the table next to them, hopefully not that girl.

Lance turned his attention towards the door again. They were waiting for Shiro, the lead camp counselor, to arrive and begin orientation. Shiro, or Mr. Shirogane when they were in school, was a popular elementary school teacher who had let Lance shadow him a few times this past spring semester. And it was Shiro who had suggested that Lance apply for this camp counselor position in the first place. Lance had adored what he had seen of Shiro's teaching style over the past few months, and he was secretly hoping that this camp counselor gig would also secure him the much-coveted student teaching internship position in Shiro's classroom for the upcoming semester. Between being a camp counselor with Shiro all summer, plus performing his required student teaching in Shiro's classroom, both of which would hopefully earn a direct recommendation from Shiro, Lance was sure he'd be a shoo-in for a teaching job, maybe even one at the amazing school where Shiro worked.

He fiddled with the rectangular piece of metal that hung under the collar of his shirt as he thought about how great it would be to get a job right out of college. He'd be able to afford his own place then, and wouldn't be faced with the looming prospect of moving back in with his parents after graduation the way his brother had been forced to when the —

"Holy shit," he said suddenly, loud enough that Hunk had to send apologetic shrugs and smiles at the people surrounding them before turning to Lance to ask what the problem was.

"Uh, seriously, Lance, what's wrong?" Hunk repeated. He resorted to tugging on Lance's shoulder before turning to look at the doorway, because that's where Lance's eyes were suddenly hyperfocused. "Lance?"

"That's Keith," Lance finally whispered.

"Who?"

"That pretty boy up there with the black hair standing next to Shiro — Hunk, that's Keith."

"Okay, still doesn't explain who that is, though?"

Lance continued to stare incredulously towards the front as he muttered out another "That's Keith" as he watched Keith sit at a table near the door, eyes pinned on Shiro as Shiro took a spot in the front of the room and began to draw everyone's attention to him so he could begin orientation.


Unfortunately his power of staring at someone's skull to capture their attention didn't work at all through the entire orientation, because not only did Keith not glance his way, Keith also didn't take his eyes off Shiro the entire time.

Instead, he had to wait to put Plan B into action, which involved leaping from his seat and shouting Keith's name the very moment Shiro signaled that orientation was finished.

Keith froze, clearly startled to have heard his name above the bustle of everyone else collecting their things. But it had stopped him from leaving, and Lance raced to the front of the room to catch up to him.

"Keith!" he repeated breathlessly once he reached Keith's side.

Except, now that he was mere inches away from the other boy, he suddenly wasn't sure what his game plan was in approaching Keith. Hugging seemed a little forward, given the amount of time that had passed since they'd last seen each other.

Plus, his brain helpfully reminded him now that he was standing awkwardly in front Keith, Keith had stopped answering his texts.

Why had Lance been so excited to run over here and see him?

And why did Keith look so confused?

"Um, yeah?" Keith asked a few moments of Lance standing frozen in front of him.

"I just wanted to say hi," Lance finally said with a small awkward wave added in for good measure. "It's been a long time."

Keith's brows furrowed together as he tilted his head and stared hard at Lance. "A long time since…"

"Since we saw each other?"

"We've met?"

Now it was Lance's turn to frown in confusion. "What?"

"Lance." Shiro joined them and offered Lance his left hand to shake. "So good to see you! I'm glad you decided to take one of the counselor openings this summer."

Lance tried to offer Shiro a smile as he shook his hand, but he was having a hard time of it as he watched Keith shift in order to stand closer to Shiro.

"Have you two introduced yourselves?" Shiro asked.

"Well," Lance said slowly, doing his best to make eye contact with Keith.

But Keith seemed to be pointedly avoiding him as he kept his eyes trained on Shiro.

"Keith, Lance. Lance, Keith," Shiro said with another grin as he pointed back and forth between them. "You'll have to excuse us, Lance, I need to steal Keith and show him where he'll be working this summer. But if you'll follow Allura, she'll show you the cabin where you and your campers will be staying. Thanks again for joining the team. I just know the kids will love you."

Lance finally managed to return a sincere half-smile in the face of Shiro's cheerfulness. But he let it fall off his face as he watched Shiro's hand land on Keith's shoulder in order to lead Keith away.

Keith didn't even look back at him.


"I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're not." Hunk dug through the upper cabinets in the camp's impressively large kitchen, doing his best to acquaint himself with the location of everything.

"Like, I didn't get the message that he wanted nothing to do with me at the end of last summer? You really need to stop me from doing these things, Hunk."

Hunk finally sent a worrying glance in Lance's direction. Lance had dropped his stuff off in his cabin earlier, but since the campers weren't due for another hour, he was currently planted on a step stool out of Hunk's way. And although he could hear how upset Lance was in his voice alone, actually seeing the sad look on his friend's face — as he went back and forth between dropping his face into his hands and sitting upright to throw his hands in the air — was way worse.

"Stop you from doing what, exactly?"

"Running up like an excited puppy to the guy who blew me off!"

"You make a really cute puppy, though."

"Did you see the way he looked at me?"

Yes, Hunk had, and for that reason, he decided to try some damage control.

"Are you sure it's the same guy?"

Lance sent a flat, are you kidding me stare back at him.

Hunk offered a half-shrug. "Okay, so plausible reasons for him reacting the way he did, that, by the way, likely have nothing to do with you." Hunk lifted his eyebrows in encouragement.

"Like?"

"He was drunk that night and doesn't remember a thing?"

Lance shook his head. "We were beer pong champions. We barely had anything to drink that night."

"He has an identical twin brother?"

"Also named Keith?"

"Some people name their kids weird shit, man. There's a counselor here named Pidge."

"Which is likely a nickname?"

"Hey, I knew a kid back in elementary school named Richard Richardson. I mean, who does that?"

Lance sighed and slumped his body even further down into the tiny stepstool while letting his long legs stretch out in front of him for support.

Hunk chewed on the inside of his lip and busied himself with looking through a few more cabinets before offering a third, perhaps more likely scenario given what had happened earlier.

"I know you said you guys hit it off, but, uh, what if he's already dating someone else? Like, maybe someone who was in the same room as us earlier? That'd be a pretty good reason to pretend to not know who you are?"

Lance felt his legs give out and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor. The way Keith had kept his eyes trained on Shiro earlier had bugged him, not that he'd admit it out loud to Hunk.

"Yeah," he said quietly when he realized Hunk was waiting for some sort of response to his newest theory. "That would make sense, I guess."

"Probably better not to assume anything, though," Hunk added. "I mean, we have to work with these guys all summer, right? Plus, I know you want to keep making a good impression with Shiro."

Lance rolled his neck and let his head fall back. Suddenly, the thought that his idol — Shiro — having yet another thing that Lance wanted — Keith — made his stomach twist painfully. And really, with his Captain America bod and genuinely nice-guy attitude, Keith was likely in very good hands with Shiro — ugh, that was a visual he'd like to avoid, thank you very much.

The main point here was that Lance just didn't stand a chance.

"I want to go back to thinking Keith was a ghost."


Lance spent the next few days getting to know his campers — nine excitable small children who all followed him around like adorable duckling while looking up at him like he was the coolest guy they'd ever seen — which was certainly a nice boost to his ego.

But their bright smiles and enthusiasm also worked to remind him why he wanted to become a teacher. And he easily threw all his energy into their activities, eager to keep their spirits up, especially as a couple began to exhibit serious signs of homesickness.

And his devotion seemed to show, because Shiro had stopped by his table at dinner the night before and commended him for the job he was doing.

Really, everything would be great if it wasn't for a very distractible pretty boy who he was forced to see at every meal in the main food hall. Keith often sat at Shiro's table, but Lance had noticed that he sometimes shifted to the table where another counselor — Lance was pretty sure it was Pidge, but he hadn't officially met her yet — sat so he could talk to her.

And sure, Hunk may have mentioned to him that he was spending a lot of time looking at Keith during their meals. But, in his defense, he caught Keith's eyes on him pretty damn often too, especially for a guy who was likely dating Shiro. Lance wasn't interested in stealing someone else's boyfriend, but he couldn't help the small thrill he got every time he saw those purple eyes locked onto him.

Also, Lance wasn't really sure what to make of the expression on Keith's face when he did catch him looking; it was always something between interested and puzzled.

Lance forced his eyes away from Keith and smiled brightly at his campers instead. Some were sunburnt from the canoeing they'd done the day before and he made a mental note to get more sunscreen on them before they went swimming later.

"You guys ready for arts and crafts this morning?" he asked excitedly. They cheered in response, and he rose from the table in order to lead them, without glancing in Keith's direction this time — nice job, Lance — over to drop off their trays. He made it all the way to the exit before glancing back at the table where he'd last seen Keith, only to find that Keith was nowhere in sight.

Which was fine. He totally didn't care.

He led his campers out of the dining hall and down a wooded trail to where the arts and crafts cabin was located. This was their first visit here, but given that the outside of the small cabin was covered in paint splatters, he was pretty sure he had the right place.

He let his kids lead the way up the staircase and into the main door, and by the time he got inside, he found all of them already huddled around a table in the middle of the room, digging through a box of rocks as directed by none other than a certain pretty boy.

A certain pretty boy who smiled directly at him when Lance entered the room and approached the table.

"Lance, right?"

Lance froze and stared back at Keith. Shiro wasn't around, so Lance found it odd that Keith seemed to really want to keep up the pretense that they'd never met.

Although if he really wanted to pretend they'd never met, Lance thought maybe Keith could tone down the eager anticipation on his face as he said Lance's name and jumped up to greet him.

Come on, Keith. Give a guy a break.

"That's me," Lance said with a defeated sigh that led to a quick look of confusion from Keith.

But then Keith turned back to the kids and introduced himself before he began explaining what project they were going to work on.

"First, pick the paint color you want, pour some into the side of one of these bowls, which you are going to have to share because I couldn't find enough bowls for you each to have one. But then add in the rocks you chose, put on the lid, and start spinning."

The kids' eyes were wide with excitement as they clambered over each other to pick out paint and rocks.

"What are those bowls they're using?" Lance asked, thinking that they looked suspiciously familiar.

"They're salad spinners. That I may have stolen from the kitchen," Keith said with a completely unfair, dimple-filled grin as he moved around the table in order to eventually end up standing next to Lance.

"You're a goner if Hunk finds out."

"Is that the chef?" Lance nodded and Keith continued. "Well, its non-toxic paint. And I bet I can ninja them back into the kitchen before he notices."

Lance nodded without saying anything. It was surreal to be standing here talking to Keith, especially to be talking to him as if their first meeting had never happened. And considering Keith had blown him off, why did it feel like Keith was now trying to flirt with him?

"So, Shiro said he knew you from school? That you'd shadowed him a couple times last semester?"

Lance nodded stiffly as he heard Shiro's name fall easily out of Keith's mouth.

"Like this, Keith?" One of the little girls from Lance's pack of campers — Maddie, Lance had their names memorized the first night — brought her rock up to show Keith.

Keith's face lit up with his smile. "Yeah, exactly."

"I want you to keep this one," Maddie said with a shy grin.

"You're sure? You don't want to decorate your cabin with it?"

"Nope," Maddie said with a swish of her ponytail as she shook her head. "I want you to have it."

"Well, only if you take one of the little paintbrushes over there and write your name on it."

Maddie's eyes grew large as she sucked in an excited breath. "Okay!"

And Lance watched as this was followed by a chorus of almost every other camper declaring they wanted to do the same.

"You're gonna be neck deep in rocks from my kids," Lance muttered.

"Well, I collected a ton."

And then Keith was grinning widely at him, and Lance failed to suppress a grin in return in response to Keith's dumb rock joke.

Not fair, Keith. It's just not right for you to be that cute and also quirky funny on top of it.

Keith's eyes zeroed in on Lance's smile and he immediately began to blush, although he also looked incredibly pleased with himself. "Anyway," he said before clearing his throat. "They can leave some here if they want and you'll still have plenty to bring back to your cabin."

Lance caught a small fond smile on Keith's face as Keith watched the kids, and he felt a small twist in his gut as he recognized that smile. He had a picture of Keith smiling like that. Smiling at him like that. He was struck with the urge to say something, despite the fact that he didn't want to embarrass himself again the way he had a few days ago at orientation.

But before he could, another camp counselor popped her head into the cabin, and Lance recognized the girl with the cool blonde ponytails from orientation. She grinned when she spotted Keith and headed towards him. Lance moved away from Keith's side, allowing the other counselor to take his spot, and ignored the way Keith's eyes followed him.

"Keith, sorry to bug you, but one of my campers tore the netting on this," the new counselor said, holding up something that looked like it used to be a dreamcatcher. "Do you have anything in here that can fix it?"

"Sure, Nyma. Let me take a look."

Lance began chatting with his campers and happily offered suggestions for colors when they asked his opinion. He also helped them line up the ones that needed to sit and dry. It should've been enough to hold all of his attention.

But, with Keith in the same room, of course it wasn't. And he found himself repeatedly glancing at the other side of the room in order to watch Keith's purple eyes narrow in concentration as Keith's paint-covered fingers deftly maneuvered the netting back into place.

And he did his best to ignore the way his own fingers twitched, desperate to push Keith's bangs out of his face for him while he worked.

Of course, he also noticed the dedicated way Nyma was watching Keith work, all while twirling one end of a ponytail around her fingers.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Get in line, girlfriend.

"Thank you!" Nyma exclaimed as Keith handed the repaired dreamcatcher back to her a few moments later. "I'll be sure to stop by later with my camper so she can thank you as well!"

Then Nyma was out the door before Keith could even get his entire "That's not necessary," sentence out of his mouth.

But with her gone, Keith's eyes were back on Lance, and he looked unfairly happy as he returned to Lance's side.

"So, you're kinda handy, huh?" Lance asked.

Keith laughed as if it was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

Still, Keith was currently laughing, and Lance could feel himself warm at how cute it was.

Again, not fair, Keith. Like not at all. Just really not fair.

"I'm really not handy," Keith said as his laughter died down and he leaned over the table to help a camper squeeze out more paint from a tube that was running low. "I mean, I guess dreamcatcher repair sort of falls under the crafts part of this job. And even if Shiro did force me to be here this summer, he'd probably still disown me if I couldn't put some netting back together, right?"

Lance wasn't sure what Keith meant by that, but he didn't have a chance to ask before Keith was talking again.

"Honestly, if you break anything around here, you should bring it to Pidge. She can fix anything. Or just flat out build you a new one."

"I haven't officially met Pidge, yet," Lance said. With the way each cabin rotated around to different activities, there hadn't been a lot of overlap yet between the counselors. Most of Lance's interactions came from his kids, although, Hunk did stop by in between his duties in the kitchen. Of course, Lance had noticed that Hunk had started talking to another counselor — Hunk told him her name was Shay — which was cutting down on Hunk's visits to Lance.

"I've known Pidge forever," Keith said. "Her older brother is friends with Shiro."

Implying that Keith had known Shiro forever as well. Another point for Shiro.

"This one is for you, too, Keith." Another one of Lance's campers — Olivia — proudly held up a rock for Keith to take.

Keith smiled as he said thank you, inspected the rock closely, and then lined it up with some others in the sun on a nearby windowsill.

"You've got all the girls fawning all over you," Lance said with a resigned sigh once Olivia went back to the table with the others. "Won't Shiro be jealous?"

"Shiro?" Keith asks with an incredulous chuckle, as if he wasn't sure if Lance was being serious or not. There was a moment of silence, and when Lance didn't fill it, Keith finally said, "Shiro has Allura, why would he be jealous?"

Now it was Lance's turn to laugh awkwardly as Keith's words repeated in his head.

Shiro had Allura?

If Shiro had Allura — and not Keith — why would Keith care if Shiro knew that the two of them met at some frat party last summer?

Keith moved away from him then in order to help one of the kids get the salad spinner's lid off so they could free their rocks.

Then Keith was laughing again, which dragged Lance's attention back to him embarrassingly fast.

"Your campers are covered in paint," Keith said with a grin aimed at Lance's heart — er, face.

"Its fine, we're swimming after this," Lance managed to say, his voice tight.

Of course, Keith not dating Shiro didn't mean Keith was single. But if Keith was single, then that left pure disinterest as the only reason Keith would have to blow Lance off last summer. Right? Just because Shiro was dating someone else didn't mean Keith couldn't be interested in Shiro. He couldn't really fault the guy. Lance had certainly learned a thing or two about crushes that just won't go away.

His head was starting to hurt.

"Good timing with the swimming," Keith said with another laugh as he attempted to hand out some wipes to help clean the kids' hands off. Then he tilted his head as he eyed Lance. "So, if you shadowed Shiro last semester, does that mean you're applying for the student teacher spot in his class this fall?"

Keith's question had Lance's eyes quickly narrowing. Aha, he thought to himself. Keith clearly wanted that student teaching spot in Shiro's classroom! And he probably thought since he and Shiro had known each other forever, that he would easily get it.

So, Keith wanted to pretend he didn't know him because Lance was the competition? If Keith wanted a rival to see who could be the best camp counselor and win that student teacher spot, then that's what he was going to get. Lance could handle that. After all, even if Keith was a cool arts and crafts counselor, Lance had been put in charge of an actual group of children. This was going to be no contest.

"Come on kiddos, let's go!" he announced. "Time for swimming!"

He avoided meeting Keith's eyes as he hustled his kids out the door.

Avoided saying goodbye to Keith altogether, although some of his kids were kind enough to do so.

Avoided seeing the slightly hurt and bewildered look on Keith's face as he left.


Unfortunately for him, his campers had taken a real liking to Keith. And the next day, while they were all at the archery station, Maddie and Olivia both squealed out Keith's name when they saw him walking by, and demanded that he come over and help them.

"Ladies," Lance said, trying to reign them in. "Rolo is the archery expert."

"No worries, let him try," Rolo said with a grin as he handed over a bow and arrow set to Keith.

Keith took them gingerly before he shot an unsure glance in Lance's direction. Lance turned his back to him and moved down the line of his campers, doing his best to make sure no one unleashed an arrow in the direction of anyone else.

And despite his best attempt to not look at Keith, he turned back anyway and found Keith with his head tilted as he focused on the target in front of him. The muscles in his arms were tensing perfectly as he pulled the arrow back with long slim fingers that were once again covered in paint. And right as he released the arrow, Lance watched Rolo reach over to brush Keith's bangs out of his eyes.

Keith flinched so hard that his arrow missed the target completely.

Lance couldn't help but remember how Keith had definitely not flinched when Lance had brushed those same bangs out of Keith's face last summer. And he fought the urge to glare at Rolo, made easier by the fact that Keith immediately turned and began to glare at Rolo himself. Rolo merely chuckled as he backed away and went back to doing his job with the kids.

"I'd say that's a perfect example of when to use a short-term time machine," Lance muttered.

"Short term time machine?" Keith asked, clearly bewildered as he turned to look at Lance.

Lance huffed out a frustrated noise and turned away from him again. He went back to helping his campers and did his best not to notice when Keith left.


Look, even if he didn't have a set of campers to watch over and call his own, Keith was in no way a slacker in this whole charm the kids with his skills in order to be declared the best camp counselor competition.

This was made crystal clear the next time Lance had to bring his campers back to the arts and crafts cabin.

Keith greeted him with a smile that Lance responded to by nodding coolly as he pretended that he had no room in his life for boys with dimples, paint-covered fingers, and adorable, messy ponytails.

Then Keith got to work with the kids. He'd spread out thick paper across the main table and instructed them to paint whatever designs they wanted using the watercolor paints he had sitting in jars around the table.

And when the kids were finished, they looked up to Keith and Lance excitedly, clearing expecting praise. So they — and Lance — were slightly surprised to see a devilish grin on Keith's face.

"Who here likes explosions?" Keith asked.

Nine little hands shot up in the air and Lance fought to keep his own hand down, especially when Keith shot him a knowing smirk. Keith grabbed a box from a side counter and when he returned, he handed each child a small bottle filled with clear liquid, as well as a pipette.

"I didn't tell you guys before, but that paint had baking soda mixed in it. And do you know what happens when you mix baking soda with vinegar?" Keith asked the question as he used a pipette to deposit a few drops of vinegar in the center of the kids' large painting.

The children — and Lance — were immediately amazed as the vinegar made the painting begin to fizzle and "explode" in front of their eyes. The kids required no further encouragement to begin adding additional drops of vinegar to their artwork, and soon the room was filled with awed gasps and giggles as the painting transformed into something even more beautiful.

Much like Keith's devastatingly cute grin was becoming even more beautiful as he watched the kids' excitement and then turned that smile towards Lance.

Lance fought his face's urge to smile back and managed to scowl at Keith instead. He told the kids to meet him outside when they were finished and turned to leave.

Not fast enough, of course, to miss the sad disappointment on Keith's face.


A couple painful weeks went by like this — Lance doing his best to avoid looking at or talking to Keith, while also ignoring Keith's glances and attempts to speak to him.

And look, Keith had no right to look so hurt or confused, especially after he'd left Lance hurt and confused at the end of last summer, okay?

Of course, it was pretty damn difficult to ignore Keith when Keith was pulled into the seat opposite Lance by Lance's own campers at dinner one night.

Still, he was doing his best. He chatted with his campers about their day, asking which parts were their favorites, and laughing at their dramatic retellings of the splash war they'd had earlier, even if the kids seemed to be embellishing to show off for Keith.

But Keith listened closely to them, and chuckled appropriately. But he also glanced across the table at Lance often enough that Lance had finally had enough.

"Why won't you admit that we met before this camp?"

Keith's fork froze mid-air. "Because we haven't?"

Lance leaned back and crossed his arms. "Yes we have! We were champions?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Keith said with a shake of his head.

Lance threw up his hands in exasperation. "How can you not? I mean, fine, you didn't want to talk to me anymore after that night. But there's really no reason to pretend like we never met!"

"We've never met!" Keith said, leaning forward in his seat, finally getting frustrated enough for it to show as his eyes narrowed.

Lance dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the photo he'd kept of the two of them from his photo gallery before pushing the screen towards Keith's face.

The previous tension drained from Keith immediately, and Lance watched Keith's eyes flicker back and forth, as if he couldn't decide whether to stare harder at Lance's face in the image, or his own face.

"Where did you get that?"

"Seriously?" Lance's voice rose further as he began to glare back at Keith. The kids were beginning to stare at the two of them, but he'd been waiting a long time to ask these questions. "Actual proof that we met, and you're still gonna —"

He snatched his hand back across the table as he cut himself off, fed up with Keith and his stupid denial. He threw himself up out of his seat and thrust his phone back in his pocket, desperate to get away from the pretty boy who'd given him so much grief.

"Lance, wait, where did you get that picture?"

But Lance only shook his head, doing his best to ignore the pleading frustration he could hear in Keith's voice as he turned away. He couldn't storm out when he was responsible for his campers, but he could at least sit at a different table. He paused before he went, though, and suddenly turned back to Keith with a finger pointed at the guy's face.

"You've got to give me something," he hissed out at Keith. "Maybe you just didn't want someone to find out you'd exchanged numbers with me?" He glanced purposely over towards where Shiro sat a few tables over. "Or you didn't want me to know you were also trying for the student teaching spot in his room? Something? Give me something that makes sense."

"I don't have your numb — and why wouldn't I want my cousin to know anyway?"

Lance's spine straightened at that. He dropped his pointy finger and stared back down at Keith.

Cousin?

Keith stood up then as well, that damn hurt look back as the main expression on his face.

"And I'm not gunning for the student teacher position, either, Lance. I'm an art major. We don't do student teaching."

So, Shiro was Keith's cousin, meaning Keith was likely not pining after the guy. And Keith had no interest in the student teacher spot Lance wanted.

Noted.

Lance could feel heat rush to his face, and did the only thing he could think of to try to stave off the impending embarrassment — he spooned up a helping of green gelatin off his tray.

And flung it in Keith's direction.

Except he didn't count on the way gelatin would flail any which way it wanted once it was released into the air. And he didn't count on Shiro approaching them — even though they'd begun yelling at each other in front of the kids a few moments prior.

"Sorry Shiro!" he squeaked out as Shiro wiped gelatin from his face. "I meant to hit Keith!" Then he squeaked again as he was hit square in the face with the gelatin Keith had launched from his own spoon.

"Like that?" Keith asked dryly.

Lance ditched the silverware, scooped up a handful of food from his tray, and threw it in Keith's direction. He vaguely heard someone across the room yell "Food fight!" and he vaguely regretted the entirety of the past five minutes of his life, given that it had led to a roomful of small children launching their dinners at each other.

But not enough to actually stop his assault on Keith.

Besides, Keith wasn't letting up either, despite Shiro's attempts to get Keith to stop.

And Lance may have been wrong, but he thought he saw a small smile on Keith's face as they launched food at each other. He did his best to keep his own grin hidden.

Of course, when Shiro decided later that night that their punishment for inciting a food fight riot was banishment — banishment together in one small cabin on the outskirts of camp — it wasn't hard at all to stop smiling and curse himself for his poor life decisions.


Keith could hear Lance apologizing profusely to someone over the phone, likely Hunk the chef, since he was pretty sure those two were friends. He'd sent Pidge an apology text when Lance had first gone to stand out on the front porch, and in return he'd received a string of angry emoji faces and tiny knives in return. If Shiro allowed him back on the main campgrounds tomorrow, he'd find her first and offer to help clean some of the green gelatin goo out of her equipment.

He'd chosen one of the two beds in this tiny cabin he was now inexplicitly sharing with Lance, and propped himself up against the wall with a few pillows in order to read. He kept his attention trained on his book, but could see Lance reenter the cabin out of the corner of his eye.

Lance stopped in the center of the room with a tilted head, and Keith could barely hear him as he read the spine of Keith's book out loud, "Trouble's Making Everything All Right." Lance huffed out an aggravated noise and moved to drop himself down on his own bed on the opposite wall. "I'd say it's just the opposite actually," he muttered as he threw an arm across his eyes.

Keith eyed the title of his book and offered up a half shrug in agreement before he went back to reading.

There was an audible groan before Lance spoke again. "God, this is boring."

"I have a few more books in my —"

"Bip bip bip bip," Lance said, waving his free hand in Keith's direction.

The movement dragged Keith's eyes up and he allowed himself a moment to appreciate the way Lance's long body was draped over his own bed before he tried to refocus on his book.

Another groan from Lance. Keith was trying to find the sound annoying.

"Tell me about your book."

Keith kept his eyes on the page as he answered. "Why? So you can accuse me of competing with you and then throw food at me?"

"I don't know. Is there anything in that book about pretending not to have met someone?"

Keith let the book drop to his lap. "Look, I'm sorry I don't remember you. But I'm not pretending. Okay?"

Lance removed the arm he'd covered his face with and met Keith's eyes directly. There was sadness there, but he at least appeared to be considering Keith's words. Finally, he nodded back at Keith, acceptance on his face, before he turned away and concentrated on their ceiling.

"Just tell me what your book is about."

A beat passed as Keith considered if Lance's actions counted as accepting his apology. Then he marked where he was in the book before staring at the cover so he could think for a moment. "Its set in the future, and there's a group of space explorers who —"

"I hope this is you summarizing."

Keith threw a pillow at him. Lance snatched it up and shifted on the bed, lining himself up properly so that he could prop the pillow under his head and stare across the room again at Keith.

Keith was forced to adjust his remaining pillow before he was comfortable again. And when it was clear Lance was still waiting on him, he continued.

"So, there are five space explorers —"

"You like space."

It was said so quietly that Keith almost didn't hear him, wasn't even sure Lance was purposely trying to interrupt him again. He glanced over at Lance, but found that Lance's eyes had gone unfocused as he fidgeted with something under the collar of his shirt. And when Lance didn't say anything further, he decided to just continue.

"But, two of them get separated from the group, and kind of crash land on this planet that resembles the Wild West."

"Cowboy land?" Lance asked, perking up a bit.

"Yeah. The book is about futuristic space explorers that are now living in dangerous cowboy land."

Half of Lance's mouth quirked up at Keith's dry tone. "Duels?"

"No duels yet, but there have been a few heists," Keith said.

"And you like this sort of thing?"

Keith's eyes ducked down as he randomly flipped the pages of the book and willed his stupid pale skin not to turn red. "Yes, but its more than just cowboys and heists," he responded with a quiet voice. "They're being forced to adapt to this new unforgiving land, while trying to stick by their morals, and they don't always succeed."

Lance hummed to himself, eyes drifting away from Keith as if deep in thought. "Well, the alternative to always sticking by their morals is what? Death?"

"Pretty much," Keith said. "But it's also —" and here he paused, unsure how far to go in his description of what he liked about this story to Lance.

But then he glanced at Lance again, and found the other boy had leaned himself up on an elbow, allowing him to rest his head against his palm. An eyebrow was raised expectantly above bright blue eyes that were currently expressing nothing but interest in what Keith had to say next. The combination was enough for Keith to keep going.

"They really have each other's backs," Keith finally said. "They make a good team, and no matter what, they're sticking together." Keith shrugged. "I guess I don't see that a whole lot in real life. I mean, Shiro has always been there for me, but he's family, so he pretty much has to be, right? Anyway, I can't go to him for everything. And I kinda wish this kind of partnership wasn't just something you see in stories. That that kind of thing was something you could actually have and count on, you know?"

Keith's eyes returned to Lance and he was slightly startled to see a distraught look covering Lance's face. And without responding to anything Keith had just said, Lance hopped up from his bed and mumbled something about going for a walk.

Keith dropped his book and scooted to the edge of his own bed as Lance began to make a hasty retreat from their cabin. A hasty retreat away from him.

"Lance, it's raining!"

But Lance didn't appear to care as he disappeared out their door and into the darkness.


Although he'd shut off the lights, save the bathroom light, which he'd left on to help Lance out when he returned, Keith wasn't asleep when Lance finally came back.

Though he did stay in bed when Lance came in, and watched as Lance went straight to the bathroom to grab a towel to run over his soaking wet head.

"I was beginning to think you'd escaped back to your old cabin," Keith said finally when Lance reentered the main room and headed towards his suitcase.

"Nope, you're still stuck with me." Lance's voice was quiet as he pulled off his wet shirt and tossed it to the floor before digging out a nice dry one to wear to bed. It wasn't until his clothes had begun to stick to him uncomfortably that he'd even noticed the rain during his walk earlier.

Keith rolled to his side and stared at the wall to give Lance some privacy. And pretended he hadn't been ogling Lance hungrily for the past few weeks at camp, especially on the days Lance had ditched his shirt and jumped into the lake with his campers. He did his best to pretend that he hadn't been drinking up any and all smiles he managed to catch. As if he hadn't enjoyed catching those bright blue eyes pinned on him — often. As if he hadn't been pleased to have Lance's campers pull him into their activities so he could try — and admittedly often fail — to talk to this beautiful boy who glowed like the summer sun.

And once again, he'd been left feeling lost and puzzled by Lance's behavior. Obviously he'd said something earlier, when he'd just been describing what he liked about a book, that had offended Lance, But now he wasn't sure how to broach the subject to make up for it. Or even just how to talk to Lance without it ending in Lance angry or disappointed. Again.

There was a crack of thunder outside that was shortly followed by a lightning strike bright enough to light up their small space. With Lance back safe, Keith closed his eyes against the noise and slowly drifted to sleep.


Lance stared up at the cabin's ceiling from his new bed. Flashes of lightning continued to light up the room, and he found himself wondering if his campers were okay without him in the storm. Whoever Shiro called in to replace him wouldn't even know all the kids' names yet. He wished he could trek back to his own cabin and check on them, but the storm was only becoming more insistent, and he actually jumped at a particularly loud clap of thunder.

He glanced over towards where Keith slept with his back to him. He could hear Keith's steady breathing, and was a little impressed that he was able to sleep through the loud storm.

He'd spent his walk trying to forget about how earnest Keith had looked as he'd described his desire for a relationship — even if it was based on a fictional relationship in the book he was reading — because the end game was that Keith clearly wanted a real connection with someone in his own life.

And as Keith had talked earlier, Lance had begun to hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Did Keith seriously have no fucking clue what he was doing to him? Lance had been right there last summer, ready to sign right the fuck up for that exact kind of connection before Keith had disappeared on him.

And now, sitting five feet away from Keith as he talked about that particular kind of want, had been a little much, leading to his speedy exit.

He thought back to his interactions with Keith so far this summer. If he hadn't met Keith last summer, he definitely would've noticed him right away this summer. And he definitely would've spent the last few weeks trying to flirt with him. He glanced over towards Keith's solid form under the blanket again and wondered how different things would be between them if they'd gone down that route, instead.

And, maybe — if Keith really didn't remember him — maybe he could try to start all over with him? Assuming Keith would even be interested after the way Lance had been doing his best to ignore him all —

A loud cracking sound interrupted his thoughts, followed by a sudden downpour that had Keith shouting in surprise as he was drenched in water from a brand new hole in the old cabin's roof.

"Holy shit!" Lance yelled as he scrambled up and helped pull Keith out bed.

"What the —" Keith sputtered at the same moment, disoriented from the combination of being drenched in cold water and having Lance's warm hands pull him away from the continuous downpour.

Then Lance grabbed a nearby trashcan and stuck it under the new hole in their roof to catch any additional rainwater before rushing over to switch on their light.

"Holy fuck that's cold," Keith stuttered, teeth already chattering as he stared up at the hole above his bed.

Lance also eyed the ceiling. It didn't look like a tree or anything had caused the damage, and he could only hope that the rest of the roof wasn't about to come crashing down on them as well. He turned to Keith to ask his thoughts about the structural soundness of the rest of the roof, but no words came out when his eyes landed on him. Keith's purple eyes were as wide as ever, his breath was coming out in fast pants, his black hair was pressed to his forehead and releasing droplets that ran down his neck, and Lance could only appreciate the way Keith's soaking wet shirt was plastered to his chest.

"You're unfairly pretty," Lance sighed out, giving in to the first thought he'd ever had about Keith, before he'd even learned any of the other amazing things about him. Like how soft his hair was. Or how his smile could make Lance feel warm and happy. Or how talented he was with his artwork. Or how good he was with kids when he shared that talent.

Keith's eyes dipped as a familiar red began to color his cheeks.

"The blushing is unfair too."

And blushing or not, Keith shivered suddenly in his soaking wet clothes.

"Shit, hold on." Lance dashed towards the bathroom to grab a towel for Keith as he called back to him over his shoulder, "You really need to get out of those wet clothes." He returned a few moments later with towel in hand and came face to face with a shirtless Keith. He unconsciously licked his lips, and as much as there was to admire in front of him, his eyes narrowed in on Keith's shoulder. "Damn, that's a nasty scar, dude."

Keith took the towel Lance offered and glanced down at what he could see of his own shoulder before running the towel over his hair. "Yeah, it's a fun leftover reminder from last summer."

"What kind of reminder?"

"Shiro and I were in a car accident. I was unconscious for a couple days after, but —"

"What?"

Keith shrugged his opposite shoulder. "I got off kind of easy, though. I mean, I don't have any memories of the crash, or of that night, and the scar doesn't really bug me. Shiro's the one who doesn't have any feeling in his right arm anymore. Kind of why I wanted to be here this summer, just to keep an eye on him and pitch in when he needed it."

"What?" Lance restated. He could feel his breathing pick up the pace, and he tried to force his inhales to come in a little slower if only so he could better hear what Keith was saying.

"Didn't you notice when you shadowed him last semester?" Keith asked with a tilt of his head as he eyed Lance. "He can barely write with that hand anymore. He's been trying to learn to write with his left hand, but until he gets a better grasp of it, Allura and I would go into the classroom after school and write out what he needed on the boards. Or help him grade the kids' assignments."

Lance hadn't really noticed that Shiro didn't write much in the classroom. And he just thought Shiro had been hella prepared every day when he brought in his materials ready to go from home.

But that wasn't the part he was having trouble with right now.

"Thankfully a lot of what he does is on the computer, but —"

"Keith, what the fuck?"

Keith stopped suddenly, purple eyes widened in innocent surprise at Lance's statement.

"How about if someone insists that they met you, and shows you a picture of the two of you together, you continue the conversation by mentioning that while you don't remember them, there is a night that you had erased from your memory due to a car accident-inducing head injury?"

A few moments went by where they stared at each other before Keith felt suddenly stricken as he realized what Lance was implying.

"That night I don't remember — Shiro made me go to a frat party. And you were there, weren't you?"

"Yes, Keith."

Lance watched as Keith seemed to grow increasingly paler. His hands bunched into fists at his sides and he moved to sit down again on his bed.

"No — no, wait!" Lance grabbed his arm before he could sit on his soaked mattress. "You really need to get the rest of these clothes off," he added when he felt how cool Keith's skin was under his fingers.

Keith chuckled out a dry laugh and pushed himself to stand on his own two feet again with Lance's help. "Been flirting with you all summer, and now you want my clothes off," Keith muttered.

"I — you didn't —" Lance sputtered as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I didn't know that was flirting! I didn't expect flirting after you stopped answering my texts last summer. Which, shit, of course you would if you were in a car accident and a coma. Dude, I feel like an ass."

"You didn't know, Lance." Keith wrapped the towel Lance had given him around his shoulders. He really did need to get out of his wet pajama shorts, but right now consoling Lance seemed more important. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't think to mention it. The whole thing seems like a long time ago now, and I hate bringing it up, especially around Shiro. He feels really guilty about the accident, even though it was due to some drunk asshole hitting us."

"I wish I'd known." Lance said quietly. He squeezed a palm around Keith's unscarred shoulder. "Not just now, either. I wish I'd known then. I would've visited you in the hospital. Helped out or something."

Keith could feel his face warming alarmingly fast at Lance's soft words and the feeling of Lance's large hand wrapped around his shoulder.

"You must've thought I was a real jerk," Keith said. He drank in the bright blue that made up Lance's eyes before offering another small chuckle. "I kept trying to talk to you and I couldn't figure out why you —"

"Why I was being a dick in return?"

Keith chuckled again. "Makes sense now."

"Keith," Lance breathed out, "I'm sorry."

"No, no Lance. Please, I have to watch Shiro feel guilty all the time, I can't handle it from you as well. Okay? Can we just — can you tell me about the night we actually met?"

"Yeah, right after you change into dry clothes, man."


"We were the beer pong champs of the night. And —"

"I've never played beer pong in my life."

"You have, and you're a natural, pretty boy."

And there it was: the pretty blush that sprouted across Keith's face at the compliment. Lance had missed it.

With Keith in warm, dry clothes, they sat side by side on Lance's bed, both leaning up against the wall with their feet dangling over the opposite end. Keith was resisting the urge to scoot closer and press his shoulder against Lance's as he listened to Lance tell the story of their initial meeting.

"Oh, and we talked about a shared belief in how vast the universe is, and you gave me this." Lance pulled the necklace out from under the hem of his shirt and lifted it towards Keith. He watched Keith's mouth drop open as his eyes grew impossibly larger; clearly even more shocked by this revelation than he had been over the picture of the two of them together.

Keith turned fully towards Lance and leaned in close so he could run his fingers over the metal's flat surface where his artwork was displayed.

"I thought I lost that the night of the crash," Keith whispered. "It was my favorite."

"Your favorite?" Lance asked, now feeling a little bit of shock himself. "D-Do you want it back?" He lifted his hands to the necklace but was stopped by Keith's fingers wrapped around his wrists.

"No, it, uh, it looks nice there. On you." Keith smiled as he finally had the pleasure of watching Lance actually blush. "I thought — I really thought it was destroyed, but you've kept it safe for me."

"Wish I'd kept you safe," Lance murmured back, not daring to move his hands for fear that Keith would let go of him. "Now I really wish I had a time machine, which is a reference I'm realizing you won't get, but I'd go back and walk you home that night, no matter how far. Or drag you across the street to my place."

Keith released a sad sigh. "I'm sorry you thought I blew you off. And that I somehow made you think I was going for the student teaching spot in Shiro's room."

"Why did you ask if I was applying for it?"

Keith blushed again — dammit — and mumbled, "I thought if you got it, then I'd have an easy way to see you after camp."

"Oh my god, you're adorable."

"Says the boy with the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen," Keith said with a grin as he released Lance's wrists.

Lance used one of his newly freed hands to swipe Keith's still slightly damp bangs away from his eyes. "Still don't know how you can see anything with your hair in your face like this, pretty boy."

"I can see plenty," Keith said with a laugh. His chest felt lighter than it had in weeks, and he chewed on his lower lip as he eyed Lance for a moment before asking a very important question.

"Did we kiss?"

"No," Lance whispered back with a shake of his head.

"Good," Keith murmured as he fisted Lance's shirt and pulled him in close enough to let their lips meet.

The pressure began light, but it was enough to tug at Keith's gut and had him pressing forward for more almost immediately. Lance must have felt it too, because he met Keith's insistence with his own. His hands dropped to Keith's waist and he pulled at Keith until Keith sat firmly straddling his lap. Then his fingers were twisting in Keith's hair, while Keith wrapped his own arms around Lance's neck. Lance tugged some of those soft strands gently, which pulled a deep sound from Keith's throat that he answered with a groan of his own, before he used the grip on Keith's hair to tilt Keith's head, deepening the kiss that was pulling the breath from their lungs.

And when they pulled back, both breathless and still holding on tightly to the other, Keith continued his earlier thought.

"Cause I would hate to have forgotten that too."


And Jumping Into The Future

"They said all week that the temps were gonna drop today," Keith said as Lance ducked into their apartment, visibly shivering from the freezing temperatures outside. "I told you to take your jacket with you this morning."

"Nope, don't remember, didn't happen," Lance managed to say around his chattering teeth as he pushed off his shoes by the door.

"I told you those jokes aren't funny!" Keith whipped around to face Lance with a scowl, simultaneously allowing the large spoon he'd been using to spin around with him, and effectively splattering red pasta sauce across their small kitchen table.

"Couldn't resist," Lance said with a grin as he shook his head and grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess.

"Try harder," Keith growled at him as he turned back to overseeing their dinner where he stood at the stove.

Lance tossed the paper towels in the trash and then came around the table to wrap his arms around Keith's middle and rest his chin on one shoulder so he could peer down at the food. He pressed himself heavily against Keith's back, soaking in as much heat from Keith and the stovetop as he could.

"Jackass," Keith muttered over to him.

"You married this jackass."

"Yeah, but I have a history of a head injury, so —"

His words were cut off and merged into sudden laughter as Lance tightened one of the arms he had wrapped around him before digging his other fingers into Keith's side.

"That's not funny, either," Lance growled back. He stopped tickling Keith only to drop his head and press a kiss to Keith's neck.

"Couldn't resist," Keith mocked back. But he also pressed himself back into Lance's chest, dropped his left hand over Lance's left hand, and smiled when he heard their wedding bands clink against each other.

"How long?"

"Five minutes," Keith murmured before leaning his head back far enough to reach Lance's mouth with his own for a kiss.

"Want me to pick out a movie?" Lance asked when they separated.

"I already did."

"Which one?"

"You're gonna love it."

Keith smiled to himself as he heard Lance groan behind him. He hid his grin as he switched off the burner under their noodles, then shifted his shoulder to signal Lance to give him some space so he could transfer the boiling water to the sink in order to drain the noodles.

"What?" Keith asked innocently.

"Any time you say I'm gonna love some movie you picked out, I never do."

"You don't think that documentary on the —"

"No," Lance said, cutting Keith off before he could even try to describe any of the documentaries he'd ever made him watch over the last two years. He brought bowls over to the sink and scooped some noodles into both before handing them back to Keith where the sauce was waiting on the stovetop.

"Well, this isn't a documentary," Keith sniffed, doing his best to appear put out by Lance's blatant disrespect for learning the truth about certain subjects.

"Not a documentary? You have my attention, sir. Are we watching an actual movie then?" He was searching for parmesan from the fridge when he turned to glance back over at Keith — Keith who was currently sporting an adorable, albeit guilty, grin on his face. Lance groaned again as Keith pulled the garlic rolls from the oven. "Oh my god, pretty boy, what is it?"

"You're gonna love it," Keith repeated as he handed Lance his dinner and then led the way to the couch.

Lance decided to resign himself to whatever Keith had planned. After all, a night in with Keith was definitely one of his favorite ways to spend an evening. Although, he didn't fail to notice as he sat that Keith was refusing to look at him as he pulled up the movie he'd chosen, probably because his blush was currently in full effect, and Lance had to quickly rewind and think if he'd called him pretty boy recently, smiling when he realized he had.

Lance began to eat his spaghetti as the opening scene began. And he was doing his best not to glance at Keith again, mainly because he knew his husband was still watching him closely for a reaction with what could only be described as childish anticipation. Lance wasn't sure why, so far it looked like a couple cowboys playing poker with a bunch of — aliens?

"Keith." His tone was that of a man who had to yield a great deal of patience on Keith's-turn-to-choose movie nights. "Did you find a movie version of that space explorers turned cowboys book you like so much?"

"Yes!" Keith beamed back at him, thrilled that Lance remembered. "How lucky are we that they made a movie out of it?"

Lance sighed. "Sooo lucky, Keith."

Lance poked at his noodles and watched as Keith nestled further into their couch, essentially pressing himself against Lance's side, ignoring the fact that they both needed elbow room to eat in favor of being physically closer to Lance. Before he began eating, Keith leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lance's neck, a small gesture that still managed to heat Lance's skin with the unspoken promise that there would be more where that came from once this movie was over. Then Keith grinned happily at him again before his eyes moved back to the screen.

In turn, Lance balanced his food on one knee and used his free hand to move some of Keith's bangs out of his eyes before pressing himself back against Keith's side and repeating his earlier sentiment with a great deal more sincerity.

"So very lucky."


A/N: Thanks for reading! This was a fun project after what has felt like a long writing hiatus for me, and I hope you enjoyed it!

And by the way, if you'd like to read the story Keith was reading, which is a canon-based Voltron story where two members of the team (its Keith and Lance because of course it is) get stranded in cowboy land, check on author Mytay on the AO3 site for her "Trouble's Making Everything All Right" series.

Also, great big THANK YOU to Mytay for reading over the beginning of this story, as I needed a second set of eyes to make sure the time hopping up there made sense. Of course, I kept the rest of the story away from her, since I didn't want her to see me sneaking her cowboy series in here until I'd finished writing the entire thing. Thank you for writing your own beautiful Voltron stories, Mytay, and I hope you don't mind me borrowing your series as a way to bring these two closer!

And I'm gonna just leave this here (because I'm sure some of you super observant people are probably wondering this), and because there was no way to fit it in up there without adding a bunch of text that would've killed the story's flow. In regards to Keith's phone — which was definitely destroyed in the crash — my thought was that when he finally got around to buying a new phone (you know, after his hospital stay) he didn't bother trying to have anything transferred because he had like 3 contacts in his old phone to begin with. So he doesn't have Lance's phone number and he never saw their text conversation.