an: the story started in september. forgot to add it on the first chap lol

Lance woke up with a gasp. (And a wet, sticky sensation inside his pants.)

It was almost 11 when he checked his phone. The sky had darkened and the rain had grown heavier. It was a rather gloomy way to start the day. Lance thought had the weirdest dream ever. Something about meeting this hot old-school looking dude in red leather jacket that hung above his waist, hair unruly and greasy but still unbearably hot, and he brought him home to stay with him and they fuck slowly on his bed until it was morning.

He laughed at himself for being so sexually deprived he started making this Keith person up. Keith wasn't even a good name. Sounded stupid.

Lance opened his door, the alcohol still throbbing in his head. The sight that greeted him made him jumped to his feet in horror. Keith was there – the Keith in his dream – was sitting on his counter, no longer in his dumb cropped jacket but a black v-neck and red boxer, eating his Cap 'N Crunch using a spoon right from the fucking box. Lance did not shriek like a girl. No he didn't. (he did.)

"Mornin'" he said leisurely with a mouthful of cereal. "Hope you don't mind me eating this way. I'm lactose intolerant."

Of course Lance fucking minded! It was so gross! He could at least fetch himself a bowl or something, fucking uncultured hog!

Lance was still gaping though, no sound escaping his lips while his mind still going miles a minute. "Wait, wh- what, Ke – Keith…?" he stuttered.

"Huh?"

"Wait… did we… sleep together?"

"Uh, no." Keith's eyes fell to Lance's soiled pants, and he shot him an unimpressed look. "Please do not ever bring that up again,"

"Oh. Shit." He whispered, one hand automatically flew forward to cover his crotch. So the best part of his dream turned out to be just a dream indeed. But everything else? Not so much. He tried not to look too disappointed. Trying to dismiss the reality in which Lance just had a satisfying wet dream about Keith, he padded to the kitchen area and sat down across the said guy.

"Gimme that," he snatched the cereal box from Keith, ignoring the mutter of complaint that followed. "Also – fetch me a bowl and a carton of milk will ya? It's in the fridge."

"Are you not going to change your pants first?" Keith grumbled, reaching down the counter to pull out the bowl.

"Nah, man – hey, hey hey hey!" Lance fling a spoon at Keith's direction when the guy tried to open up the fridge with his foot. "Never do that again! Not in my house!"

Keith gave him the tongue, but retrieve the milk obediently without any further protest. He even poured the cereal just for Lance, and put it back on the fridge effortlessly. They ate in silence. Whenever he got the chance, Lance would sneak a peek at Keith – the guy he brought home while he was drunk on booze – and he caught himself wondering how their relationship would go on from here. They were barely acquaintances, definitely not friends, but Lance brought him back anyway. Keith's hair was jet black and coarse, his nose thin and delicate. He was prettier than he was handsome. The colour of his eyes was kind of funny though. Round and purple just like plums –

Keith noticed him staring and those cute eyes narrowed. "What?" he bit out.

"Nothin'" Jesus he was snappish as fuck.

Keith droned. "So, you have anything scheduled today?"

"Uh-huh. Supplementary lesson at 5."

"I see. You're a college student, right?"

"Yep. I'll graduate in a year… or two. Probably. Anyway, what about you? How old are you?" Lance cringed, mostly at himself. He should probably asked him before bringing him home.

"I'm twenty two."

Lance exhaled in relief. "Oh, cool. I'll turn twenty two next year. Then… you're also a student, right?"

"I dropped out." Keith replied with a shrug, shoving another spoonful of cereal inside his mouth. "Currently working in a car wash just across the square."

"What… why?"

Keith fixed a glare at Lance's direction. His sharp eyes scorching holes in Lance, and whenever he stared at him, Lance could feel it brand against his skin. "Don't know. I just don't feel like it."

Lance's mouth hung open, his eyes wide. "So you … dropped out? Just like that…? Wha – h – how?! I mean, college sucks, and I get you, honestly, but I don't think I have that kind of guts." He laughed, clamping a hand across his mouth. "If most of the students have guts like yours half of the universities would be almost empty by now. I know I would leave. But I think about my parents sometimes too…" The taller guy trailed off, feet wriggling restlessly underneath the counters. "Any plan on going back to college?"

Keith blinked at him, once, before his gaze lingered on the cereal box. "Not really."

"Ever?"

Keith only shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "I like my job."

"But you're not going to spend your entire life working at a car wash, right?"

"So what? The pay is okay, and I don't have to socialize more than necessary."

Lance tutted, dragging his attention back to his bowl of cereal. "You're still young, you can do better than a minimum wage job, Keith."

He could feel Keith ran his eyes appraisingly over his face and body. He let out a derisive snort. "Oh look at me, I'm Lance, I have a degree and in two years I'll probably land myself on a perfect job working my ass off behind a tiny desk for the rest of my life."

Lance looked at him, eyes wide in hurt. He refused to respond, annoyed. Keith did a double check, this time though, his eyes were flooded with guilt. He gritted his teeth together before inhaling sharply.

"Shit. Um. Sorry." He said, refusing to meet the other's eyes. "I'm just. I'm really bad… at this."

Lance tilted his head questioningly.

"People. Talking. Sometimes I said things I didn't mean and… uh. It's been a really tough week for me so…"

Lance's stance relaxed as he regarded the way Keith fidgeted in his seat, eyes never staying in one exact spot. Suddenly he was reminded of Stella Brown who sat next to him the entirety of fifth grade. She was a cheery young girl, Lance used to have a tiny crush on her even, until one day his homeroom teacher told the class that Stella's brother passed away due to a traffic accident. Lance had never seen her smile again after that. She shut herself completely, ignoring all his attempt at bringing up a conversation, even to go as far as insulting him in an act of self-pity. They didn't talk anymore even until graduation rolled around. The way he saw the world when he was little and the way he saw them now were completely different.

"I understand, Keith." Lance began softly. "That's okay. We can start slow. It's uh, partly my fault too, for being too intrusive…"

"Yeah." Keith smiled. A tiny, but genuine smile. "I'm very… grateful you know. For everything. The roof above my head and um," he lifted the box still in his hand. "The free cereal,"

Lance clicked his tongue and wiggle his index finger. "Ohoho, but it's not free at all. We're going to take turn in buying groceries."

"Alright. I could live with that. Is there anything else I could do? You want me to pay half of the rent –"

"No, no, my parents own the place. I used to live here with my sister, remember? I need only to pay the gas and electricity bills. Sometimes my parents would come over with groceries too, so they mostly got me covered."

Keith deflated. "Oh. We could split the bills…?"

"How about you focus on saving up for your own place? Especially if you're so adamant on working at the car wash." Lance told him standing up and collecting his dishes. He turned his back to Keith and padded to the sink, turning the faucet on. They argued for a while afterwards, while Lance washed the remaining dishes from his previous days, and at the end of it they finally came to a decision to at least let Keith pays for most of the needed groceries. Even with that verdict, Keith still looked mildly uncomfortable. Lance was glad Keith didn't turn up to be that much of an asshole he thought he was.

They also decided to split chores, and even though Keith told him honestly that he'd rarely do dishes, Lance still gave him dishes duty (much to Keith's chagrin). He couldn't remember the last time he was talking this much while doing chores.

(It was a nice change.)

Once, on a rare sunny afternoon while he was tying the knots of his shoes, Lance caught a glimpse of Keith staring longingly at the small potted marigolds lining the top of his window stool. His eyes were memorable for being a faded, mournful purple. Lance blamed the stormy weather for the unsteady beat of his heart.

Every time he passed by the flower shop across his usual café, the bright yellow flowers perched in front of the display window would always remind him of the aching look on Keith's face.

Later that month, when the weather turned from bad to worse, Lance was stuck in a café with Hunk. So he told his friend about Keith.

Saying that Hunk wasn't pleased to hear the news would be an understatement.

"Buddy, you do not bring a stranger from a bar and let him live at your house that's like how to get yourself murdered in a span of a week. I don't like this, Lance," Hunk chided. "I don't like this Keith guy."

"It's been like what, three weeks? I'm still alive and well, aren't I?" Lance grinned at his friend who clearly didn't buy it. His glare made Lance's smile fell.

"Lance," Hunk said in a tone that made Lance felt like he was ten all over again.

Crossing his arms and sulking like a petulant child, Lance huffed out a sigh. "Hunk, come on. He was desperate okay? It's like picking up a stray puppy. I feel bad."

Hunk raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Okay. Jeez. Fine. Despite the awful temper, he's hot. And he's also pretty docile? Like, when he's done with his shift all he does is lay around in the couch eating chips and watching National Geographic. We even bonded over my shit taste in movies. That's saying something."

Hunk exhaled, his breath smell of coffee. "Lance, oh Lance. This is why I worry about you sometimes – no, scratch that. All the time."

"But it's just. It's a really nice change of pace, Hunk. Really. I haven't been down lately and since I can't get him inside my pants might as well get him inside the house, y'know?" Lance joked, but he supposed his seriousness showed on his face, because Hunk's shoulders slumped in resignation as he groaned.

"I'm happy if you are happy Lance, you know that." Taking advantage of the moment, Lance slipped his charming smile. "Just. Promise me you're going to let me meet this Keith guy eventually." He added.

"Sure thing bud!"

(Hunk visited at the end of the month, bringing along his signature pumpkin pie. He gets along fairly well with Keith.)

October

Lance was double checking his calculus assignments when Keith came stumbling down the doorway. He was bruised pretty badly – his pretty face was beaten up and lips torn. There was blood dripping down his nose. Lance stood still for a moment until the initial shock came down.

"What in the heavens happened to you?!"

Keith merely groaned in response. Lance wasted no time grabbing his arm and forcefully dragging him to the bathroom, where he pushed Keith to sit down at the edge of the tub. He rummaged through the cabinets for first-aid kit.

"You don't have to…" Keith managed weakly. Lance stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he shook his head bewilderment, holding a bottle of disinfectant in one hand and a wet towel in the other. "So you're telling me to just sit down and watch tv as you bleed all over my floor when it's Wednesday where I have mopping duty? Not happening, buddy."

Keith chuckled, his voice gruff, and flinched when the split on his lips opened too much. Lance sighed, dropping down to his knees until they were eye to eye.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened or am I supposed to keep making wild guesses?" he dabbed the towel against Keith's face, wiping away the traces of drying blood. His skin was drier than it seemed to be; probably from all the cigarettes he smokes.

Keith hmm-ed, closing his eyes. "Got into a fight with this Danny Zuko-lookin' guy 'cuz he was harassing Eric, and then he brought he whole gang."

"Who's Eric?!" Lance asked. "And how are you still able to make a Grease reference while looking like you'd just been wrung dry?"

"It was the first thing that went through my mind at the time."

"Okay, so he was good looking?"

"Very." Keith hissed when Lance applied the med against his sensitive skin. "But also a major pain in the ass."

"Oh he's a pain in your ass alright." Lance stood upright to fetch a plaster before placing them on Keith's cheek. "You got whooped."

"Hey! It's four against one!"

"Uh-huh sure, honey." He patted Keith's cheek one more time, just to make sure. "Aren't you a brave little kitten." He cooed, skilfully dodging the friendly jab heading his way. With a laugh, he exited the bathroom, but not before throwing the dirty towel at Keith's lap.

It was always like this with Keith lately. Being with him was easy. Lance was almost afraid he'd get too comfortable, but he pushed the thought far, far away in the back of his mind.

"So, what are you working on?" Keith joined Lance on the bar once he was done cleaning up, holding an ice bag against his swollen cheek.

"Calculus II. My favorite." Lance panned, gaze never leaving the papers before him. "I'm always bad with math. Like, really bad. Once I cried myself to sleep because I hadn't been able to finish an assignment back in high school."

"Can I see?"

"Huh?"

Keith offered. "Maybe I can help?" without waiting for an answer from Lance, he took the papers and examined it closely, humming to himself. With no words what so ever, he plucked the pen right from Lance's grasp and start writing down on his paper.

"Whoa – dude – what are you doing?!"

"Here, this is why you're stuck, dumbass." Keith made a circle using the pen on an equation. "This is wrong, and also this. Really close call." He scribbled down the right answers on one page and another.

Lance watched with growing amazement – not at the home works, but at Keith; the Keith who looked extremely good-looking with his brows pinched in concentration. "B – But, how…?"

Keith raised his stare and their eyes locked. "What do you mean how?" he snarled, but there was no apparent bite to his tone.

"Before you dropped out – what were you studying?"

"Biomathematics."

Lance gasped dramatically. "Oh my God, I don't even know what that is but that sounds cool. So you're actually really smart?"

"It's just mostly your everyday biology. With math." Keith snickered, his eyes twinkling as he did so. Lance smile grew wider. The silence that followed was relaxing, secure. Neither of them pulled their gazes away, the uneasiness that was present before seemed to disappear with time.

The rain poured in gentle waves, the sweet sound distant and muffled.

Lance had noticed lately. The lingering stares. Quiet regards. But he didn't act on it. It could probably just his wild imagination. He did dream about Keith (twice).

"You know. I told Shiro about you, said he'd like to meet you." Keith was the first one to pull his gaze away, his expression back to the usual immobile state.

"Shiro?"

"He's my childhood friend. We were neighbor. Makes sense that he's the first person I told about you."

"Oh you mean… he's the…" Lance trailed off, the next words that threatened to leave his mouth left a bitter sensation on its wake. He began collecting his assignments without looking in Keith's direction. So very suddenly he realized he didn't really know anything about Keith outside of the flat – the guy he'd been living with for almost a month. Keith very rarely talked about himself and usually flat out avoiding talking about his life at all. He didn't know who he'd been hanging out with after work, or why sometimes he went back later than usual. It made something in his gut twist uncomfortably.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Yes. We usually hang out at the diner in west Madison. Since he's bringing his girlfriend along I thought I'd bring – "

"Wait – what?! He has a girlfriend?!"

"Uh. Yes?" Keith twirled the end of his mullet with his fingers, the look on his face nonchalant. "Guess I never mentioned that to you."

Lance put his hand on his chest and gasped theatrically. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Keithy."

"No you're not. You seem to enjoy riling me up, huh?" Keith aimed a murderous glare in his direction.

"That's okay Cathy dearest," Lance pursed his lips. "You'll find another bulky, dark haired hottie with prosthetic arm somewhere!" the image of an actual good-looking, tall, bulky guy floated before his eyes, causing his stomach to clench nervously.

"I'm kind of half amazed you still remember, actually." Keith muttered, an amused smile playing on his lips. Lance felt his cheeks warmed up at the gesture. "So you gonna come or not?"

They ended up going on the next Friday evening. It was a classic diner, the walls fully decorated with various football-related posters, framed articles and photographs. Lance let himself soak in the ambient music for a few moments as they waited for Shiro and his girlfriend to arrive. He looked around at the busy tables. A family and their children. Young couple drinking milkshake from the same glass. Businessmen in their suits lighting up cigars. He was convinced that the two women sitting on the tiny stools at the bar were dating. He smiled at the thought.

For someone who claimed he's lactose intolerant, Keith ordered the most expensive dessert – a Belgium waffle topped with vanilla ice cream with many toppings. Lance looked at him with inquisitive eyes in which Keith only shrug in response.

The waiter came returned with Lance's order, a plate of Turkey sandwich and a glass of chocolate milkshake. He thanked him with a flirty smile before the waiter left, ears glowing red. From his seat he had a view of the entrance, only couples came and left. As he was picking up his fries, Lance almost jumped on his seat. From the corner of his eye she realized someone familiar making her way to his table; he glanced up at her face. He opened his mouth, but Keith beat him to it.

"Shiro! Over here!"

Lance checked this Shiro person as he walked closer, a wide, friendly smile on his face. This "Shiro" must be older than twenty-five judging by his university jock build and the soft lines on his face. He was even more good looking than Lance's mind had made up. The cut across his nose did nothing to deter the air of dominance around him. Lance had to remind himself that staring so blatantly was rude to finally close his gaping mouth. Shit, no wonder Keith had a crush on him. He would too, given the chance.

But more importantly! – Lance brought his gaze back to the woman who had her hand around Shiro's arm.

"Allura is Shiro's boyfriend?!"

thx for reading up to this part lmao. seriously. thanks. leave a review if you want to~