Fly-Boy-Samurai
Dec. 21 7:45AM
Hey. Has Shiro called you yet?
Dec. 21 8:33AM
You'r probly heading to the airport. Call me when you land?
Dec. 21 11:45AM
I am guessing you forgot to charge your phone, once you have, call Shiro, he has something to tell you.
Then call me, kay?
Dec. 21 3:12PM
I'm getting worried now.
Dec. 21 7:07PM
Allura called your folks tonight and it sounds like you and Veronica landed and are fine. Totally get it if you need some time to relax. But, give us a call when you can.
It's important.
Thanks.
Dec. 25 5:06AM
Merry christmas Lance.
Dec. 25 9:34PM
We're okay, yeah?
I just… I hope we're good.
Jan. 1 12:08AM
Happy New Year. XO
—
Lance hadn't originally planned to fly back to Florida with his parents, but he switched his flight a few days after Christmas after another dramatic retelling of the three hour flight to Cuba with the kids. Alas the flight back home was smooth sailing, both kids, tired from their days in the sun slept most of the trip.
Another reason for flying into Miami from Cuba, was that he and Veronica had some ground work and research to do. The task was daunting and they hadn't shared their plans with the rest of the family. They weren't even sure if what they were planning on creating was possible in the current political climate.
Lance's decision not to head back to California complicated matters with his friends. As soon as he had a working phone he called Hunk to explain his reasons for going off grid.
"Dude, it's all good. We were just concerned, we didn't know if you were specifically avoiding connecting with us, or the world in general." Hunk muses on the other end of the line.
"No, my phone was busted and I needed to unplug a bit. I was obsessing… you know… like I sometimes do." Lance assures him. "It just sucks that I missed the wedding."
He can hear Hunk huff out a sigh through the phone. "Yeah, it was interesting, I mean, I almost think that Shiro would have called it off to ensure you could be there… but Adam would not have been happy about that."
Lance ponders that.
"Keith though, I think you should give him a quick call. Just to check in." Hunk says, his voice a bit deeper, more serious.
Lance knows he has been avoiding this. He reads and rereads the texts from Keith. They are brief, but he knows they speak volumes. He won't fully understand where Keith's mind went over the past few weeks until he actually speaks to the dark haired guitarist. But he has been conscientiously avoiding it.
Lance runs his fingers over the screen of his new phone and brings up the video of Keith playing as part of the New Year's Eve show in New York City. It was early in the night, a solo performance, just him on a huge grand piano. Keith in a sequined black jacket, more flashy than his usual style, a black beanie just over his ears, a ridiculous pair of fingerless gloves, probably to ward off the cold that is evident with each frosty exhale.
At first Keith seems too small in front of the piano, on that stage. The first few notes, purposefully tentative, voice soft, a little lost, filled with longing.
But as his voice lifts into the chorus…
Even as an orchestra joins in…
He takes up more space…
Until everything is Keith.
Lance can't help but imagine the song is about him, about them.
Sometimes he feels sad or guilty watching this. Thinking that he has done this, kept Keith invested in something that isn't what he wants or needs.
Other times he gets angry. "Where does Keith get off acting like he is the victim here? Lance has been the one pining, always afraid the other man will just leave. Always two steps behind him."
Other times, he reminds himself it is just a song. A show, like the flashy jacket. It doesn't have to mean anything more than that. Usually that is after he talks to his new therapist.
It took a few phone calls, several false starts, and a lot of support from Rachel and Veronica to finally find someone to talk to. If his older brother could do it, Lance could too. Actually, Lance had been about to give up when he had an introductory skype conversation with Dez. She was a wry woman whose warmth reminded him of his mother, but who had a dry sense of humour similar to Keith's. She was apt to remind him that he couldn't know what Keith was thinking, unless he actually had a candid conversation with the other man. Which was simple in its logic but sent Lance into spirals of panic. If Lance began creating stories about what was happening with him and Keith, she would look over her thick cat shaped glasses at him and ask pointed questions which reminded him to get out of his head.
Apparently guessing at what Keith's feelings were based on the songs he sang in concert was a problematic communication style. Who knew?
For Lance's own mental health, he was to steer clear of the gossip sites and the comment sections on social media. Luckily, he had mostly been able to avoid these since unplugging during the time in Cuba, but he still watched the performance videos, and still hadn't called his friend, the lead guitarist.
This behaviour led both Dez and Veronica to shake their heads, simultaneously bemused and disappointed. Lance knew he had to eventually speak to the other man. However, he was impressive in his ability to fill up his days with other urgent and vital tasks, causing Rachel to suggest that he could win a gold medal in avoidance at the C oping-Mechanism Olympics.
In response, Lance (unwisely) asked if that was a sports event played on cruise ships. Rachel retaliated by dumping iced coffee onto his lap, possibly ruining his favourite pair of jeans.
To add insult to injury, Veronica jokingly whispered to Lance that Rachel's coping mechanism was egregious acts of violence. The younger sibling simply stuck out her tongue at Ronnie and stormed away.
How is that fair?
After being in Florida for a little more than a week, Lance heads back to California, having only spoken to Hunk directly about his time-out in Cuba. Lance had also spoken to Allura about applying for foundation money for the project he and Veronica are working on and exchanged a few emails with the Atlas team.
When he arrives at the penthouse, Pidge is home, the dining room table is covered with printouts and post-it notes, Pidge is typing furiously on their laptop in the middle of the mess. Lance imagines tiptoeing past them to his bedroom, but two hazel eyes pin him as he steps through the door.
Lance holds his breath. Pidge's eyes narrow, and Lance has to choke back an involuntary laugh as the western whistle sound from The Good The Bad and the Ugly plays in his mind. Pidge's mouth flattens, adding to the mental image, and Lance could almost see tumbleweed blowing through the space between them. But he also notices the tension coiled through Pidge's small body and the tired lines around their eyes. Hunk had assured him that everyone had understood his need to unplug, but he remembers that they had all been worried.
Something must shift in his own expression, because Pidge's eyes soften. Lance drops his bags to step into the room, only to be hit full force by 110lbs of a gremlin/sibling hug, fierce, yet comforting. He hugs back, relieved beyond belief.
All too soon, Pidge scrambles backwards out of the embrace, their body winding up, Lance braces for the impact of a shoulder jab that often accompanies his small friend's larger emotions. But Pidge holds back, hands still fisted, eyes shining.
"I know you didn't do it on purpose, but you scared the shit out of us." Pidge accuses in crisp words.
"I know." Lance holds up placating hands. "I'm sorry."
"Jeez, let someone know that you are going incognito next time, and leave a fucking emergency contact number." Pidge responds hotly.
"Altea and Shiro have my emergency contact info." Lance says, eyes squinting.
"Yeah, Duh. We had your parent's home phone number and Veronica's cell." Pidge gesticulates and actually stomps. Lance has to bite his cheek not to laugh. "Neither were particularly useful when you all arrived in Varadero. We couldn't even get in touch with your wacky aunt."
Lance does huff a laugh at that. "I am sorry. I.. uh… just really needed to unplug… I didn't know it would cause such a kerfuffle."
Pidge gives him side eye, but Lance can tell they really aren't angry. "You're such a dope." They say, giving him a playful shove.
Lance shoves them back, but pulls them back in for another short hug, which his small friend uncharacteristically leans into.
"So. " He gestures to the table. "What are you working on?"
Pidge's eyes gleam in a way that could be described as maniacal, especially when accompanied with the way their hands rub together. "I've made a few modifications to the financial program." They begin, "I may or may not have introduced some particularly elegant A.I. and…"
Lance loses the thread of what Pidge is talking about soon after that, but their excitement over the project is clear in their voice. Lance listens and observes, catching pieces that he understands, but mostly grateful to be with his friend again.
It is several hours later, when Lance is unpacked and they've had a simple dinner of baked salmon and grilled veggies that Pidge regards him seriously.
"Have you talked to Keith since you got back?"
"Since I got back from Cuba or since I got back to California?" Lance lobs the question back, recalling his sister's commentary on his expertise in avoidance.
"Either. Both." Pidge shrugs simply.
Lance finds he cannot meet the two, magnified, hazel eyes regarding him, so he only glances up before averting his gaze. "No."
He hears the sigh and feels himself girding up to defend himself. But Pidge doesn't continue the conversation. He looks down to see a controller lobbed into his lap and looks up to see Pidge rattle their own. "Mario Kart?" They ask.
Even as they play, Lance wants to return to the topic, to ask how Keith is doing, but Pidge doesn't bring it up again.
Hunk finds them passed out on the couch, and tuts at them until they move to their beds. But the larger man is gone before either of the others are up the next day. Lance finds out from Pidge that the work at the restaurant is moving fast and requires a tremendous amount of attention from Hunk.
Lance calls into Altea's new offices, thinking he should meet up with Shiro and Adam. He has yet to offer his congratulations to the newlyweds. He also needs to check in about timelines for the hiatus, now that he and Veronica have a project of their own to work on. He is also hoping to catch Hunk at the restaurant, maybe take the guy out for some lunch and a break.
Shiro meets him at the reception desk with a hug that rivals all of Hunk's best embraces. The usually stoic man can't seem to stop smiling, but has a shine to his eyes when he says, "I really wish you could have been there Lance." Married life seems to agree with Shiro, he seems lighter in his steps. He also is very proud of the Atlas offices, taking Lance on a tour of the space.
"Do you want to see some of the wedding pictures?" Shiro asks, once back in his office. Lance sighs, and tries something new he's been working on. "You know, I am so happy for you both." Lance says, with a genuine smile. "But I am actually still really disappointed that I missed it, so I want to wait to see the pictures. Umm…" he flounders a bit. "Until I feel a little less…" Lance rubs his chest trying to find the words.
Shiro's eyes are filled with understanding, as he reaches to pat Lance on the shoulder. "I get it." He intones. "But when you are ready, we should do it over dinner at our place. Adam will want to share every detail with painful accuracy." He gives the warning in an ominous tone, but the smile in his eyes indicates he is delighted with his husband.
Adam is offsite, working with another client, so Curtis comes in to discuss the hiatus with Shiro and Lance.
"We have told Altea that the hiatus would be at least six months. We are already halfway through that. This new project of yours is going to take some time to get off the ground." Curtis says thoughtfully.
Shiro rubs the scar across his nose thoughtfully. "I think you'll need to get a better sense of how much time you need Lance and we also have to check in with the rest of the band. The sooner we can give Altea an updated timeline, the better."
"I've looked over the contract and TLD doesn't have to put out an album this year. But, the band is signed on to complete two more albums in the next four years and some other contractual obligations we may need to address." Curtis says, seemingly unfazed by the discussion. Lance get's the feeling this guy is a perpetual optimist.
"I'm a little nervous bringing this up to all of them, since I was resistant to the hiatus in the first place." Lance says, rubbing his hands up and down on his thighs.
"I think that what you're working on will win them over." Shiro smiles ruefully. "Though, financially it may be an issue for us here at Atlas, as TLD is one of our biggest clients."
"Oh god. Really? I never even thought of that, and you just took on this building and the added staff." Lance glances anxiously between the two other men.
"I'm sure we'll figure it out." Curtis says with a smile, reinforcing Lance's previous impression of the man. "Though, while we are talking about money, there may be some legal restraints to the type of fundraising you can do for your health clinic project, we'll want to go over that."
"Yeah, Allura already told me that the Altea Foundation might not be able to support it, because I am one of the project founders and that might be seen as a conflict of interest."
"I anticipated that." Curtis says, leaning forward to pull some files from a leather bound case. "Which is why I pulled up a few options I know of, if you want to take a look at them."
"I'd love any help you can give me. I'm in over my head here. The idea pretty much hinged on the Altea Foundation being able to fund it." Lance gushes, then pauses. "But, this isn't really your job, as a management company."
Curtis and Shiro share a smile, "I think we all see the value in what you're doing Lance. We want to support it, and you in creating it."
The meeting at Atlas goes well into the afternoon, Lance leaves overwhelmed, but hopeful.
He knocks on the window to the restaurant on the main floor of Atlas's offices. He cannot see in, as the windows are lined with brown paper, but he can hear the grinding of power tools. He tentatively pushes open the door, finding the space much changed, taking the shape of the designs he had only imagined from material samples, photos and blueprints. It is extremely dusty and there is a man cutting tile with a large bladed machine. He finishes a cut and looks up at Lance, who waves.
"You can't be in here without a safety helmet and steel toes." Is the curt response to his friendly gesture.
"Right, uh, I'm just looking for Hunk, the owner?" Lance tries with a winning smile.
The tile cutting guy shoulder's slouch when it is clear the Lance isn't going to just slink back out the door. He leans back and bellows to the back of the restaurant,
"Frankie, is Hunk back there?"
"He went to the yard with Mike to sign for the sinks." A disembodied voice calls through the door to the kitchen.
"'EE's not here." The dusty tile cutter says to Lance.
"Yeah, got that. Thanks." Lance says.
They stare at each other for a second, the other man clearly waiting for Lance to leave, Lance wondering if he can induce this guy to give Hunk a message or to tell him where the yard is.
The other guy raises an expectant eyebrow and Lance decides to let himself out.
He loiters around the front of the building in his car for about ten minutes, before some people start to notice his presence. After a few people sneak pictures on their phones, he decides to head home.
Even though the following day is a Saturday, Hunk is still out before he is up and returns after Lance goes to bed.
Sunday morning Lance wakes up to the smell of bacon frying and fresh coffee brewing. He finds his way into the kitchen to see a site for sore eyes. Hunk is there, humming to a Queen song playing on the mini speaker in the kitchen, flipping fluffy golden pancakes on the grill and warming maple syrup in a spouted pot. Hunk turns to him with a tired smile, and Lance practically jumps into his arms for a hug.
"Easy now, careful hugging near a hot stove." Hunk admonishes. Lance studies his friend, who looks tired, but good.
"It's good to see you man." Lance says, a smile pulling across his face.
"You too buddy. Can I get you to cut up these strawberries and bananas? Pidge practically has scurvy from eating fries three times a day. I'm hoping if I sneak some fruit on pancakes we'll stave off actual malnutrition."
"That's manipulative." Pidge's voice comes from the hallway. Lance is rinsing the strawberries as they shuffle into the kitchen, hair all directions, puppy slippers and baggy plaid pajama bottoms. Lance feels a twinge when he realizes they are wearing the shirt that Keith bought them in Loch Ness.
Pidge is scratching their nose as Hunk hands them a supersized coffee mug. "I prefer to call it preventative care measures." He says, as he shifts their position and gives them a shove toward the coffee maker.
Lance knows that Hunk will bring it up from the moment they sit down to eat. His friend, for lack of a better term, is a full fledged busybody. But Pidge's complete avoidance of anything to do with Keith and the fact that Shiro didn't mention him either leads Lance to believe that either Hunk has been delegated to discussing this with Lance, or they have agreed not to discuss it with him. Either way, Hunk will bring it up.
It isn't until the end of the meal, when they are sipping coffee, stomachs full, that it begins.
"So, you haven't called Keith yet, have you?" Hunk asks, though Lance is pretty sure the question is rhetorical.
Pidge doesn't bolt, which indicates Hunk is bringing this up on behalf of the group.
Ugh, Lance hates being managed, hates the way this whole thing feels patronizing. He hasn't even had a chance to check in with Hunk about all the new things going on in both of their lives. But he also wants to get a read on the situation, a sense of how Keith is doing before he reaches out. As much as he resents the manner this conversation is starting, he has been waiting to have it.
He takes a deep breath. Meets his friend's eyes and says. "No. I haven't." As plainly as possible. "To be fair, he hasn't reached out to me either."
Pidge sits upright, as tall as they can. "I believe that Keith sent you a bunch of messages while you were checked out. " They create air quotes around the last two words.
"Pidge." Hunk says warningly.
"You usually have a standing... " Hunk hesitates, trying to find the right word.
"Date" Pidge supplies wryly.
"Meeting time." Hunk says, giving Pidge a meaningful glance before continuing. "On Sundays… you usually talk?" He asks Lance.
Lance eyes the two warily. This is not how he thought this discussion would go. "Uh, yeah..?"
"Right." Hunk proceeds carefully. "Well, today's Sunday, sooooo…. Maybe you can talk today?"
Lance blinks a few times. "Yeah. I guess."
Hunk smiles and pushes his chair back to begin clearing plates from the table.
Lance is baffled. "So that's it? That's all you have to say about this?"
Hunk stills, and his fists clench. His face looks torn, Pidge begins to smirk. Hunk sighs and meets Lance's eyes. "I am really trying to stay out of this man. I love you bro, but whatever I have been doing, or whatever we have been doing as a group, hasn't made this better. This is between you and Keith. I trust that you two will figure it out." Hunk carries a stack of plates to the sink. He stands there a moment, before turning back to Lance. "To do that, though, you actually gotta talk to him." Hunk lets out a sigh and turns back to the sink.
Lance looks over to Pidge, who looks a little bewildered, proud and oddly disappointed. They shrug at Lance before busying themselves with putting away condiments.
Lance stays in the shower a long time thinking. He thinks about risks, how he always takes calculated ones. He stands at a distance, gets the lay of the land, assesses the situation, focuses on his target, and then acts. Lance is always looking at the bigger picture, the long game. He thinks about Keith, how Keith is often willing to throw himself into chaos, to take a chance in the moment in a way that terrifies Lance. The way Keith trusts his gut and how jealous Lance used to be when that would work out for the other man.
Lance had never considered something outside the band, because there was safety in their team. Once they made it, the idea of leaving it became scary. He was always afraid of Keith leaving because it would upend the careful balance Lance valued. But he now recognizes how much he wanted to be free like Keith. Free to be himself, his whole self. Free to try new things.
Standing beneath the water, Lance tries to understand his love for this man, and the depth of the fear he felt loving someone so ready to jump into something new, so willing to embrace change. What would it mean to be emotionally tethered to someone so prepared to do the things that scared Lance to death.
He thought about the other side too. What was Keith afraid of? How he never unpacked at hotels, how he struggled to set down roots, how he never made a life plan. But conversely, how he trusted Lance enough to be himself with him. How Lance represented something constant, maybe even something like home to Keith.
He thinks about how he wants to start a health center for LGBTQ+ youth with his sister. How new and scary that is, but not so terrifying when you are doing it with someone you love. Not so frightening when you have the support of your friends.
Something clicks. He finally turns off the water, but stands there dripping for another minute. He feels wholly on a precipice, but there is a feeling of being grounded, of having a safety harness.
Keith doesn't answer his text right away. Lance tries to sit with it, recognizing he could be anywhere, doing anything. Lance hasn't reached out in almost a month, it isn't fair to expect that Keith would drop everything upon hearing from him for their regular Sunday chat.
Unfortunately, after an hour, Lance begins to panic and ends up calling Dez to see if he can set up an emergency session. When he doesn't hear back from her right away, he heads down to the pool to swim.
Pidge, Hunk and Shay are setting up a game of Monopoly when Lance returns from the pool. Keith still hasn't responded, so he joins in, needing the distraction. He knows all three of the others are aware of him constantly checking his phone, but they don't say anything.
Pidge is ruthless at Monopoly, but oddly has the worst luck at the game. The second time they are unceremoniously sent to jail, to many groans on Pidge's part and ribbing on behalf of the other players, Lance nearly misses the notification sound, but another one follows almost instantly. The other three share knowing looks as he grabs at his phone desperately.
"Gotta go guys." Lance is already pushing back his chair, still staring at the screen.
"I get all your properties." Pidge announces.
"Sure." Lance says distractedly
"You can't acquire property while you are in jail." Hunk argues.
"These are special circumstances." Pidge argues back.
"I believe there are rules governing this exact situation." Shay says, pulling open the booklet.
Lance leaves them to it.
Loverboy Lance
Jan. 12 11:42AM
Hi.
I am so sorry I have been out of touch.
You up for our regular Sunday chat?
Fly-Boy-Samurai
Jan. 12 2:55PM
Hi.
…
I have some time now if you want to talk.
—
Lance's heart is in his throat as he flips open his laptop. He pauses to breathe and even looks in the mirror and tries to fix his hair. He ends up making it worse, and starts to panic when the computer gives a notification of an incoming call. He makes a rueful face at himself in the mirror and plops down to answer.
Keith's face is instantly in front of him and he drinks in every detail. His hair is longer, but was recently cut or styled. He has a dangling earring on, not the one Lance had given him, something shiny and silver. He is wearing a tight wide necked white tee shirt and it hugs his shoulders and build, but shows off his collar bone and Lance is momentarily reminded of kissing along the hollows of the other man's neck. Lance can see that the other man's eyes are wary, and he both understands it and aches from it.
"Hey." Lance breathes. Every word he has carefully planned has now fled.
Keith's lips pull back slightly, as though he cannot help but smile when Lance greets him breathlessly. But his eyes remain distant. Lance has to stop himself from rubbing the place in his chest where it hurts to have Keith look at him like that.
"Hi Lance." Keith says.
"I, uh." Lance struggles to find the words. "I am sorry I vanished like that. I mean, like I didn't disappear, but I disconnected… like … electronically. I mean…" Lance can feel his face pull into a grimace. "Well, you know what I mean."
Keith's lips pull back, such a small smile, and a very sad one. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
They sit in silence for a moment.
"We were just worried, is all." The Texan slips into Keith's voice, and Lance wonders if the other man has been drinking.
"Yeah. Hunk said that." Lance looks down at the keyboard.
"I think we knew you were okay." Keith continues. "We just. I just…"
"What?" Lance pressed.
"I thought you might be mad… at me." Keith says, voice vibrating with resignation.
"No… No Keith. Not at all." Lance is earnest. "I was just really obsessing in this terrible way and it was helpful not to have any excuse to go on social media."
"Okay." Keith responds slowly. Lance isn't sure the other man believes him, so he presses forward with more detail.
"Look, it is a problem for me, I create these scenarios in my head and I play them over and over again. I am actually getting help for it. Like… professional help."
"That's good. I guess." Keith says in response.
"But?" Lance asks.
Keith's brow crinkles in confusion. "But what?"
"But, you don't seem to believe me." Lance says.
"I believe you."
"Then why are you still looking at me with those eyes?" Lance asks desperately.
For a moment he is afraid Keith will pretend he doesn't know what Lance is talking about. He is afraid he will ask, "What eyes?" and they will get stuck in a circle of Lance knowing something is very wrong, but Keith not admitting it.
Instead Keith says, "You've been back a while now."
Oh, yeah. That.
"Yup." Lance concedes.
Keith waits and the tension feels so high.
Lance really doesn't have an excuse for not reaching out, but his conversations with Dez have helped him understand his anxiety as a tangible thing. Something he needs to navigate, something he needs help dealing with. He is not sure how to explain this to Keith yet.
Instead he says,
"My sister Rachel told me that if avoidance were an Olympic sport I'd be a gold medalist."
Keith's spontaneous laughter hits the deepest parts of Lance's heart.
"I fucking love Rachel." Keith says, still laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.
He's beautiful, Lance thinks to himself.
"But not as much as you love me, right?" The words are desperate, they just slip out, and Lance wishes he could swallow them right back immediately.
Keith's laughter dies and a serious look falls over his face. That face , the one that both terrifies and thrills Lance in equal measure.
"Yes Lance, I definitely love you more."
There is a moment where Lance can't speak, cannot even breathe, but when he can finally pull in air he says, "Good, because I feel the same and hopefully that means I'll get a chance to fix this."
Keith's face falls impassive. Lance takes another breath, he is terrified, but he needs to say this.
"What I meant to say is that I love you, and I hope I can make it up to you."
DP
Title - Gravity, Sara Bareilles
Ezor21: Hey Keith, Just checking in. Wanna give us a song to let us know where you are at?
Keef: Getting Older, Billy Eilish
Ezor21: Kay, that's not so bad. I mean, a little dark... Hey girls, any song suggestions to pull keith out of his funk?
Keef: I'm fine Ezor.
Acxa: I'm not fine. Keith, I suggest this one, for both of us.
Acxa: Lash Out, Alice Merton
ZZ_on_Top: Okay. I don't like the video, but would add the song to our set list.
Ezor21: Not the direction I was hoping to go. Maybe we could go with this vibe?
Ezor21: Just Fine, Mary J Blige
Ezor21: This one works too!
Ezor21: Video,
Keef: I am good with Lash Out on the set list.
Ezor21: Right then, so glad we had this talk.
Too_Many_Matts: Ezor, you should use emojis, your message came across as sarcastic.
Ezor21: Sure Matt. :)
Ezor21: Also. ..I..