The rest of the week was torturous for Keith Kogane.

Winter has always been a busy season at his workplace – and even with the added bonus, Keith still hated having to spray out hoses in a bone-chilling weather. Vehicles kept piling up day and night, that's because seconds after you get your car washed, it's dirty again. He'd heard his customers complaining about how they couldn't see anything past their windshield and how it's too cold to wash the car in the driveway. (In which Keith scoffed at that.) He was also required to drop by earlier than his regular for mandatory winter equipment checking. He had to wear more clothes to anticipate the weather too.

But even with the three layers of clothing, it still didn't do him justice to the cold treatment Lance was giving him.

Well, Lance wasn't exactly cold. Their interactions were just normal, and sort of… boring. Too fucking normal, like this time Lance was the one who deliberately trying to pretend nothing ever happened. They greeted each other and have meals together when they had the time, but Lance didn't touch him more than necessary, didn't plan on countering any suggestive comments Keith literally threw at him, and he obviously didn't plan on kissing Keith anytime soon.

(And it was devastating, okay. For Keith, at least.)

He was reluctant to admit it but no matter what soothing words Lance had told him, the things Keith had vented at the guy had changed their relationship. And not for the good.

"Remember when you asked me about… Shiro?" Keith asked one day, perched on top of the stool, morning day sunlight permeated through the open window. It was a relatively warm day, and both Keith and Lance were lucky enough to have nothing planned for the day.

"Yeah? What about him?" Lance replied from where he was seated on the couch, the TV at the lowest volume.

They weren't even looking at each other. "I don't really know the answer but…I barely think about him anymore these days." He said distractedly, feet swinging underneath the bar. "I guess it was nothing but a silly crush. I mean… he only grew on me 'cuz he was my childhood friend. Even when he told me he was dating Allura I… I wasn't agitated or brokenhearted. I'm just… genuinely happy for him."

It was still so hard for him to open up, but he was trying his best, okay? He waited and waited, until he grew anxious, for Lance to say something back.

"I see. You're a good guy, Keith."

But it wasn't the kind of answer Keith wanted to hear.

"Why did you tell me that, all of a sudden?" Lance finally spun around to face him.

"Because I'm leaving." Keith mumbled in response, more to himself than to Lance. "It's just a small, cheap place downtown. The landlord texted me yesterday. And I already have enough money for the lease."

"…You're leaving?" Lance spoke as if Keith leaving wasn't something he had anticipated. Silly.

"Yeah? I mean, of course I would, right? I said so didn't I, the first time we met?"

"Oh. I see. Alright then."

"Yep." Keith dug his nails into his palm, hands clenching. "Next Monday. On the 23rd."

Lance didn't respond. Okay, weird. That was weird.

"Guess I should get packing, then."

Stupid, idiotic Lance. Cowardy custard. Just say it, will you? One word, and I'm all yours.

The days went by like a blur. Keith spent most of his time at his workplace, working his ass off before the anticipated Christmas break. Not that he has anyone to spend Christmas with. Ever since the death of his father, Keith loathed Christmas with all his being. He thought Christmas trees are ridiculous with its flickering lights and silvery ornaments. The tiers of colorful lights hanging on the plain wall on Lance's apartment had also offended him.

Lance was standing before him with a too long sweater that Keith couldn't hate more. His arms crossed, trying to look as nonchalant as possible despite the obvious restlessness in his eyes.

They were at the doorway – Keith already had his boots on, ready to leave the suffocating flat for good. And not look back. But maybe a peek. Maybe. He turned a frozy gaze on Lance.

"So. Here it is."

"Yeah." Lance toyed with a loose strand on his sweater sleeve.

"It's weird, huh? Everything that had happened to us these past few months…"

"Well. I don't regret it." Lance said, surprisingly honest.

"Neither do I." Keith responded.

"We'll talk. I'll call you!"

"Yeah… I mean – of course."

"Soooo." Lance drawled, his fingers fidgeted more and more. Keith could feel his patience wearing thin.

"That's it then. I'm leaving."

"Okay." But neither of them moved. Keith tried once more.

"I'm leaving, Lance."

"I know, Keith!" Lance barked suddenly, startling Keith. There was an unmistakable desperation in his tone, but he didn't say anything else. They were just kind of… staring at each other, unmoving, until the little thread on Keith's mind snapped and he rubbed his face exasperatedly. He took a deep breath.

"I'm fucking leaving. For real." He growled, brows furrowing. "Unless you have something other in mind. That you want to say to me. Then I'm all ears."

Lance wheezed. Keith suddenly recalled just how stubborn the kid can be. "You look like you have something to say to me. Let's hear you first."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No." Lance draped his arms in front of him once more and leaned back against the doorfraame. And that was it for Keith. Whatever little restraint he had, he threw them all out of the window as he fisted the collar of Lance god-awful sweater and yanked him forward into a bruising kiss. It was completely different from the kiss they had shared previously. This one wasn't sweet or innocent – it wasn't a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. It was a hard press of lips against lips, then a rough tug on his scalp.

When Lance melted into him, hands searching for purchase around his head, it nearly knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

When they separated with a loud, wet noise, Lance was looking at him like Keith was something otherworldly. "What the bloody quiznak – "

"Good bye, Lance." Keith moved to turn, but suddenly there were arms around him, keeping him in place.

"No – wait – don't go!" said Lance in a rush, the sudden panic apparent in his voice. "Don't leave."

Keith remained impassive; merely raising an eyebrow.

"You can't just. Leave after doing that! What the fuck, Keith." Lance loosened his hold, but still maintaining a close distance to him. "You said I wasn't your type!"

Keith shrugged it off. "Doesn't mean I can't fall for someone who's not my type. In the end, they're just preferences."

"F – F – Fall?! Keith?! You? with… me?!"

"Look, it's nice having a heart to heart session with you, but I got an appointment I can't miss." Keith spoke sarcastically. Lance winced, the look on his face caused a small smile to appear on Keith's lips.

"Wait!" Lance jumped, hands tight on Keith's shoulders. "Then… Then don't leave. I… stay with me. Please." His voice suddenly became small, like a whisper. He sounded scared. "I – I mean, if you want to. But I…"

"You…?"

"I want you. To stay." Lance said with clarity. "I really like you, Keith. A lot. And if it's alright with you I'd like to – "

As soon as the word left Lance's mouth, everything else seemed like a blur. He smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth as he leaped and wrapped his arms around Lance's neck, pulling him into a tight, bone-crushing embrace. Lance yelped and Keith could've sworn he said something but Keith didn't hear it – he couldn't hear anything besides the loud rush of blood in his ears. His heart felt so full it almost hurt, and he wanted to cry. Maybe he did cry, but with the way his face was pressed into Lance's neck, no one could tell.

"Thank you," he sobbed, not sure if Lance could hear but he didn't care. "Thank you."

(Lance took him to his family house in Denver for Christmas.)