Even with the number of college soccer teams across the country, the soccer world as a whole still felt rather small.

Despite staring at him for most of the day, Keith hadn't recognized his soulmate as Lance McClain. The strikers garnered the most attention when scouts and newspapers discussed college soccer, but others were obviously watched closely as well. Keith had already received a few offers from professional teams who had scouted him at Marmora University.

And he'd often heard positive rumors about the long-limbed, agile, and eagle-eyed keeper from Altea: Lance McClain.

Their colleges were in different divisions, so Keith had never faced Lance before. But if this was an elite training camp, he suddenly wasn't surprised to find one of the top keepers within their ranks.

Keith wondered what it meant that his soulmate turned out to be a goalkeeper — someone he would typically face off against on the field. If Adam was here, he'd make a lewd joke about how Keith couldn't score with his soulmate on or off the field, while Shiro would waggle his dumb eyebrows in the background. And they'd both think that Keith screwing up his first words would be incredibly Keith-like.

He wasn't giving them the satisfaction of telling them. He'd figure this out on his own. Even if he had no idea where to start other than to flat out ask Lance what his soulmark said. And… people just didn't do that, especially with near strangers.

"All yours," Lance announced as he exited the bathroom, a wave of steam following him.

His long-sleeved, protective goalie gear had been traded for a tank top and… Keith's brain stopped at the sight of exposed glistening (and thank god Shiro would never know that Keith was using such descriptives, even if they weren't being said out loud) brown shoulders and long, toned arms.

"Keith?"

"Yeah, I'll shower," Keith forced out as he grabbed his waiting clothes and towel.

"I'll wait for you for dinner," Lance offered. "Since you're late to camp and have no idea where we eat," he added with a laugh.

Keith tore his eyes away from Lance's shoulders and hurried into the bathroom.

At dinner, Lance led Keith through the buffet line of their nutritionist-approved food choices, before directing him to a table where he was immediately introduced to Hunk.

Hunk was a center back from Lance's college team, and from what Keith had witnessed of him on the field earlier that day, what Hunk lacked in speed, he made up for in strength with kicks that traveled the length of the field easily.

Keith also learned that Hunk and Lance were best friends, and that both had been excited to be invited to this elite camp together, even if they didn't end up as roommates.

"Lance can take a while in the shower, dude, but it's not what you think," Hunk said with a grin to Keith. "He just uses way too many products."

"Hey!"

"I'm just helping you out, man," Hunk said with a grin and a pat to Lance's back.

"It doesn't feel like helping me out," Lance muttered back. "Plus, it's not too many…"

It was their obviously familiar bickering that allowed Keith to sit back and eat without letting his soulmate stress kill his appetite. However, when questioned, Keith shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the attention of the entire table on him. But he did reveal that the reason he was late to camp was because he'd been suffering through best man duties for the past several weeks and had been attending his brother's wedding.

Lance shifted enough in his own seat next to Keith that his arm brushed against Keith's before he launched into his own horror stories about being the best man for one of his brothers, leading the entire table's attention away from Keith and into laughter.

Other guys from camp, some Keith recognized from college games, had joined them until every seat at their table in the makeshift cafeteria was filled and guys were forced to begin sitting at other tables.

Keith was pretty sure, even though it was only officially the end of day two of this camp, that they were all flocking to Lance.

Lance slept on his back. Headphones covering his ears. Face smooth and relaxed in sleep. Hair soft on his pillow. Shoulders and collarbones exposed to the world because apparently Lance slept shirtless and the blanket only covered so much.

Keith did not release a content sigh at the sight of his supposed soulmate sleeping. He was better than that.

He did turn away to face the wall in order to put an end to his (probably) creepy staring at a near stranger.

The main purpose of this camp was the opportunity to play in the upcoming showcase, he reminded himself. Even though he had a few offers, the teams that had scouted Keith so far didn't feel like… it. Maybe it was silly to expect so much out of a professional sports team, but Keith was looking for a place that would feel like home. His goal with this camp was to have one more chance to be seen by scouts. One more chance to find the team where he was meant to begin his career.

The fact that his soulmate had been thrown at him the second he stepped on the turf?

One might argue that it meant Keith had made the right choice in coming here.

The fact that Lance didn't recognize Keith as his soulmate?

Keith groaned and wondered why parts of his life had to be so fucking hard. And then decided to do what typically worked when he had no clue how to react to something: duck and cover.

Literally. He pulled his blanket over his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

The soulmate stuff would work itself out.

Probably.

Keith twisted and snuck one more glance at Lance. Lance seemed to respond by sighing softly in his sleep before half his mouth twitched up in a half smile.

Keith yanked the blanket over his head and resolved to go to sleep.

"Kogane! Pass!"

"Pass!"

"Holt is open!"

"You can use your keeper!"

"Kogane! I need you to talk!"

Keith sighed in exasperation as he sat on the bench and chugged some water. Coach Thace had been yelling at him all morning. Nothing that Keith hadn't heard before, if he was honest. But he was one of the top players in the country in his age group because he knew how to play. He didn't need to pass. Or talk. He could move the ball down the field on his own.

He was pretty sure that after a few more days, the coaches would see that. And stop yelling at him. They were the ones who had invited him to this camp. They knew what they were getting.

Hopefully, the other guys here would stop giving him the side-eye soon as well. His former college teammates had left him alone after he'd proved himself on the field.

For now, he let his own eyes search across the turf until he found Lance in the goal, long arms stretched up so he could wrap his hands around the crossbar, as he casually shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. He was chatting with Hunk, who was currently starfished on the turf after the sprints they'd all just finished.

Lance had nudged his shoulder earlier to wake him up, and the first thing Keith had seen that morning were bright blue eyes, an impossibly wide grin, and today's shirt which read 'I'm a keeper'.

Sometimes, Keith's life really wasn't fair.

He half listened, eyes still pinned on Lance while a warm feeling filled his chest, as Coach Thace called out names to come with him down to Lance's goal, and was pleased when he was included in that group.

"Kogane, we're starting with you. One on two with Garret and the keep."

Keith's eyes returned to Lance with a new purpose and he found Lance already smirking at him. Keith smirked back as he accepted the ball Thace sent him. He waited just long enough for Hunk to get to his feet before he charged for the net. He pulled a turn to easily maneuver around Hunk and followed with a shot on goal. Lance's smirk only widened when his outstretched arm tipped the ball over the crossbar.

"Again," the coach called out.

Keith maneuvered around Hunk once again before pulling one of his own signature fakes, leading Lance to lunge in the opposite direction of where the ball landed in the net.

"Let's add another defender," Coach Thace shouted. "One more on."

"One moron!" Lance parroted back.

Keith bit back a snort.

With a lighthearted glare in Lance's direction for his commentary, a guy whose last name Keith thought was something like Beeboh, joined Hunk to guard the net. Apparently, both he and Hunk had been paying attention to how Keith operated. This time, Hunk corrected and forced Keith to actually battle him. And when Keith finally got past him, Beeboh was right there to steal the ball while Keith was still trying to catch his balance.

"Let's add an offender to help," Coach Thace yelled. "One more on!"

"One moron!" Lance parroted, grin cheeky, and Keith had to forcibly turn away so Lance couldn't see his own small smile.

James Griffin, a fellow midfielder who Keith had had to face often enough throughout his four years of college soccer to know that he enjoyed seeing the guy frustrated, partnered up with him at the top of the circle.

Keith ignored Griffin's calls for the ball and worked his way past Hunk and then Beeboh, quickly picking up what their own signature moves were so he knew how to maneuver around them before taking another shot on goal.

He could practically hear the coach sigh from where he was on the sidelines, despite the fact that Keith had just scored again.

"Kogane, I want you to pass to your teammate. No shots on goal until you've passed at least once."

Keith pursed his mouth in frustration but nodded. He accepted the ball again and glanced at Griffin, who was now predictably glaring at him, before he began to dribble into the circle. He maneuvered around Beeboh first and when Hunk approached, kicked the ball in a curve that glided around Hunk and landed at Griffin's feet.

He smirked as Griffin stared dumbfounded at the ball, but dropped the smirk when Hunk corrected and knocked it out of bounds before Griffin even touched it.

"Again," Thace called.

Keith sent his own glare to Griffin this time when they regrouped at the top of the circle, but was greeted with Griffin leaning in close to whisper, possibly even in admiration, "I didn't know you could do that. Will you show me how later?"

Keith stared at Griffin's earnest face and wondered what happened to the smug jerk of a player who had once tripped him purposefully during a game and then called him an asshole when Keith was awarded a free kick for it.

"Uh, sure. If you want?"

"Cool. Do that again."

This time, Keith megged Hunk before moving around him and sent the ball in a curve around Beeboh to Griffin (who was ready this time). Griffin accepted the ball easily and took an immediate shot on goal. Lance blocked it, but Griffin still grinned over at Keith as if he'd just scored as he ran backwards to the top of the circle to go again.

"Better," Thace called out. "Kincaid and Rolo, join them. Two passes before shots on goal."

Hunk took up more of a center position as Beeboh and Rolo flanked his sides, and Keith turned to Griffin and Kincaid to encourage a small huddle.

They'd broken for lunch and Keith found himself surrounded by the group of guys he'd been running drills with all morning. In the past, he hadn't spent much time with his teammates outside of practice. But here, he didn't seem to have a choice with the way he was practically herded through the buffet line and then back to the same table where they'd eaten dinner the night before. He swore he even felt Lance's hand on his lower back to guide him in line in front of him, but when he glanced over at Lance, he found him in a deep discussion with Hunk about petfinder websites.

"No, think about it," Lance was saying, already entertaining the group as Keith began to eat his chicken. "Like, what if your pet loves you and your home, but they hate your taste in music?"

"Oh," Hunk said, nodding sadly, "yeah. They'd have no choice but to put up with it. You're right, that is sad."

"Why are we dragging down lunch with some sad shit that doesn't exist?" Griffin asked.

"It's totally real!" Lance exclaimed. "Just because you have no empathy for your poor…"

Griffin rolled his eyes. "I have a fish."

"Oh, god, poor fish. Your music would echo in its tank."

"That's even worse," Hunk added seriously.

Griffin frowned and poked at his chicken. Keith sent a small grin to Lance when it appeared that Griffin was actually considering it.

Lance grinned back and bumped his knee into Keith's.

After lunch, and after even more drills, Thace and the other coaches broke them into two teams to scrimmage. Out of the three keepers at this camp, Lance was clearly the favorite, but Keith was still disappointed when they were placed on opposing teams.

Thace was still yelling at Keith to talk to his teammates, but Keith ignored him for now, and instead found himself paying attention to his new teammates in a way that he hadnt in the past. He watched Griffin tried to bend the ball in a pass, and the way Holt would actually pass the ball back to him when he was pressured, and realized that Kincaid knew when and how to overlap with Keith to get into an open position.

And since they were constantly headed towards Lance's net, it gave Keith an opportunity to keep Lance in his sights more often. If the ball was in play, Lance's eyes were steadfastly focused on it. But he was also constantly calling out to his defenders with position corrections, and those long limbs and lightning fast reflexes meant Keith's team wasn't getting anything past him.

Keith knew it didn't feel good when your body hit the turf (there was no give with this artificial stuff compared to an actual grass field) but Lance made it look fairly easy to roll into a block and then pop right back up onto his feet.

And, as Keith stood waiting to take corner kicks, he watched Lance take control of the defenders. The authority as Lance yelled "Goalside" and sometimes even bodily moved his teammates where he wanted them on each of the goalposts stirred a deep heat in Keith's belly.

Enough so that he managed to kick his first corner shot completely out of bounds and back behind Lance's net.

Thankfully, he redeemed himself with the next one, sending it directly in front of the goal and allowing Holt to head it before Lance had a chance to correct for the angle. His teammates jumped on Matt for the goal, and when Keith got close enough, he was dragged into the circle of arms to celebrate as well.

He sent what was likely an apologetic look to Lance (something he'd never once done in his life when it came to opposing team keepers) and found Lance watching him with his own soft, half grin as Keith's teammates pulled him back to their side of the field.

Almost as if he enjoyed seeing Keith actually included in the team celebration, which warmed Keith for an entirely different reason.

So, yeah. Sometimes his life really wasn't fair.

Thace had kept him after he'd dismissed everyone else that evening, and with the amount of time that had gone by, it was no surprise that Lance was showered and changed when he returned to the fields and found Keith sitting alone on one of the side benches.

He plopped down beside Keith without a greeting and stretched long legs out in front of them.

"You're wicked fast, dude," Lance said after a few moments of silence. "And your footwork skills, I mean" — Lance blew out an appreciative breath — "I have no idea how you manage some of those moves while maintaining that speed down the field."

Keith peered at Lance when he stopped speaking, and couldn't help eventually asking, "But?"

Lance's shoulders lifted in false innocence. "What? I can't compliment my favorite roomie?"

Keith's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Lance ran his palms down his thighs to his knees. "You know, you play like you haven't had a team you could depend on. Like, you're used to having to do all the work? Carry the team? But, uh, this group we've got here… They pulled the best of the best, right? And we all want to showcase our best skills. I haven't seen anyone slacking here."

Keith swallowed as Lance kept his eyes locked on his face.

"It really seems like you could trust them. Trust us," Lance finished.

Keith blew out a breath and conceded a small nod before saying, "But… Thace doesn't want me to just trust everyone here. He wants me to, like, lead them out on the field. You know?" He glanced at Lance again and found an open face watching him in return. He pulled the captain band Thace had given him after practice from where he'd stuffed it into his bag and shrugged as he showed it to Lance before repeating what Thace had said earlier. "Talk more. Make passes. Lead your teammates."

"Wait, talk to your teammates? About a game we're all playing together? And give advice that could help us score and ultimately win? What are you gonna do?"

Lance's incredulous tone had Keith grumbling and turning away from him.

"It just can't be healthy to roll your eyes that hard, dude," Lance said, chuckling at Keith's expense before finally pushing lightly on one of Keith's shoulders. "Hey, man, Thace isn't wrong. You're our best midfielder, and being in the center of everything has its perks, like knowing who should be where for the best passes or shots on goal. Just — start by directing them to where you want them to be."

"You make that sound pretty easy," Keith said quietly.

"Plus, I always have a very good view" — his eyes roamed down Keith's body briefly, even as he said — "of the field, and I can help call out openings or suggestions, if you want? I mean, if they ever pair us on the same team."

Keith had been staring out across the field, but he met Lance's earnest eyes at the offer and could only nod in agreement. It sounded a little too easy, but he wanted this to work. For this team. For Lance. And for himself.

"Okay." Keith pushed himself to his feet.

"Wait, no compliments for your favorite keeper?" He tried for an offended tone, but Lance's signature wide grin betrayed him.

"You smell a lot better than me right now." Keith maintained his deadpan expression, despite how nice Lance's laughter sounded in response.

"I'll take it!"