I told you not to trust me when I said weekly updates.

Chapter 4

So it turns out that Lance's predicament is not a twenty-four hour bug. When Keith had woken up that morning to see Lance, still small and his limbs hanging off the side of his bed as he snored fairy snores, he had been admittedly torn. While Keith would give anything right now to have his room back, he still couldn't get rid of the childlike fascination he has.

Lance had woken to Keith's preparation for school, and is now sitting in his usual spot on Keith's desk, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders comfortably.

"Are you positive I can't go to school with you?" Lance whines. "I may be two inches tall but I still need an education!"

Keith snorts. "And how do you expect to do that without being seen? Not like you can sit at your desk, much less hold a pencil."

Lance gestures at Keith's jacket. "That thing has pockets, right? I'll just hang out there and then study your notes at home."

Keith decides not to correct Lance's definition of "home." "No."

Lance drops his jaw. "Why not?"

"Because you're the one who is always going on about not being seen?" Keith points out.

Lance pouts.

"Maybe tomorrow." Keith swings his backpack on his shoulder. "I'll be back around lunch to come pick you up. Please don't break anything by then."

Lance cocks his head. "Where are we going?"

Keith opens the door to his bedroom. "Shopping."

.o0o.

Lance only seems to have knocked over a baseball from the shelf to the floor when Keith comes to get him. When he walks in, Lance is straddling one of Keith's Lego creations he's had since he was a kid, waving around a Lego person's hairpiece like it's a cowboy hat. He freezes when Keith sees him, piece still above his head awkwardly.

They stare at each other, and Keith smothers a smirk. "It's a USS Enterprise, not a horse," he says.

Lance lowers his cowboy hat. "Then make me a Lego horse and I'll do it properly."

Keith deposits his backpack by the bed and hoists Lance with his thumb and forefinger under the tiny boy's armpits, Lance squawking in indignation.

"Quit man-handling me!"

Keith resists the urge to drop him and instead pulls the lip of his coat pocket open so he can plop Lance into it. The tiny boy glares up at him, and just raises an eyebrow. What you gonna do about it, Shorty?

They take the bus to the local mall, and Lance entertains himself by reminding Keith that they were technically two people but Keith had only paid for one person, and tries to brainstorm other things they could get away with.

"How about all the food we could eat, Keith. Like, order only one meal and then we split it? How great would that be? Oh, man, think about all the movies we could see, Keith."

"I don't watch movies."

Lance clutches his chest. "Heathen."

"Shut up, we're here."

Keith heads straight for the Toys R Us, their best bet for Lance. It's a small-ish store tucked into the corner next to the Belks and across the hall from a Auntie Em's Pretzels. It takes him a minute to navigate the store, but Keith finally finds the action figures. He glances over the options and lets out an anguished groan. All of them are made of plastic, with no detachable clothes. Swords, guns, yep, but boys' action figures seem less inclined to change clothes.

Lance pokes his head out of Keith's pocket and folds his arms beneath his chin. "Anything good?"

Keith shakes his head. "Nothing here."

"Dude, why are we in the boys' section?"

"Because you're a boy?"

Lance gives him a look. "Dude, the doll clothes are going to be in the girls' section."

Keith feels himself pale a little at that. "You've got to be kidding me. No, I'm not going into the girls' section."

"Sorry to put a damper on your fragile masculinity, Keith," Lance purrs. "But unless you want me walking around shirtless for the rest of my time as a two inch tall person, you're gonna need to man up a little. And besides, just tell someone it's your sister's birthday or something."

Keith breathes. Lance is right, and he can't believe he didn't think about the girls' section. Keith never had any sisters or nieces to buy things for, so he never had to think about what kind of toys might even be in that section. He moves around to the next aisle, and sure enough, shelf upon shelf of dolls and ponies and singing babies. And pink. Lots and lots of pink.

The boy doll clothes were on the top shelf, probably because retailers didn't think girls would buy boy clothes for their dolls anyway. There weren't even a third of the amount of clothing options as there were for the girl dolls,. Most of them were sports uniforms or onesies for the baby dolls, which Keith guessed was a blessing and a curse. It meant Lance didn't have as much to choose from and would make a quick decision, or it meant Lance would make him go to a different store.

Lance is trying to examine the options but they're too far away. Keith reaches up and picks a random one off the shelf. He tries to hold it discreetly against his chest. "How about this one?"

Lance wrinkles his nose. "Too douche-y."

Keith rolls his eyes and exchanges it for a different one. "This?"

"Not cute enough."

"Oh my god, Lance. This one, then?"

"Too plain."

This continues for another minute as Keith picks out random clothes for Lance to examine. Keith is getting anxious; already two mothers with their daughters have given him strange looks as they stroll through the aisle; Keith just gives them small smiles and says, "sister's birthday," which seems to satisfy them, but it doesn't stop one twelve year old girl from murmuring "Creep," as she strolls through the aisle.

Lance finally picks out a plain white T-shirt and black hooded jacket with dark wash jeans and sneakers, as well as some khakis and blue plaid button ups.

"Is this all?" Keith whispers, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Lance winks and gives him two thumbs up. "This guy is gonna be lookin' fly!"

Keith rolls his eyes. "You owe me twenty bucks."

Lance waves his hand dismissively. "As soon as I grow back."

Neither of them mention how long that might take.

Keith pays for the clothes, tells the clearly uninterested cashier that it's his sister's birthday just to make sure she didn't think he was a creep, too, and books it out of the toy store. He speeds through the mall to the nearest restroom and locks the door. Luckily there is no one there, but Keith isn't sure how long that will last.

He takes the first set of clothes they'd picked and rips into the packaging. Thankfully it's not the kind that's impossible to rip open without scissors, so it only takes Keith a few seconds to completely free the clothes from the package. He puts them on the toilet paper dispenser and lifts Lance from his pocket.

"There, now get changed."

Lance holds up the clothes and examines them thoughtfully, now that he can actually hold them in his arms. He looks back up at Keith. "Take it back, I don't like it."

Keith can feel his face turning red from the mere thought of going back. "No."

Lance bursts out laughing and shrugs on the white T-shirt. "Just playin' with you, man. Beggars can't be choosers in situations like this."

"Pretty sure you're the only person with this situation."

"True."

Keith turns so Lance can shimmy out of his old pants and into the new jeans. "Damn," Keith hears, and he turns to find Lance squatting down, trying to fit his feet into the shoes, which appear to be too small. He pouts a little and slaps the soles against the dispenser sadly, but at least the rest of the clothes seem to fit.

Lance lurches to his feet and strikes a few poses to show off his new look. "What do you think?"

Keith chews his lip. "Great. You look great."

Lance's smile grows wider. "Hey, you know what would make this better?"

Keith raises an eyebrow, stuffing the loose packaging and Lance's old pants into the plastic bag. "What?"

Lance grins like a kid in a candy shop. "Ice cream!"

And that's how Keith finds himself sitting at a table in the food court, a cone of vanilla ice cream in hand held close enough to his pocket so Lance can stick his sample spoon into it. The cashier had given him a strange look when he had asked for it, and Keith was not good at being stared at for so long.

"I cannot fucking believe this," Keith says under his breath. He knows he looks ridiculous, but Lance will kick him in the rib if he moves the cone too far.

Speaking of, Lance wriggles happily, slurping the treat with happy little hums. "Never thought I'd eat ice cream again, either."

"I envy your optimism," Keith mutters, and Lance stops wiggling.

"Sorry," he says, and dips his spoon into the cone again. "I'm just trying to see the bright side so I'm not crushed by overwhelming anxiety over being shrunk."

Keith glances down at his tiny charge. "Two days," he says. "Any changes? At all?"

Lance glances down at himself, pats his torso with a free hand. "I don't feel any different."

Keith sighs. "I see."

He pulls out his phone and types furiously with one hand. Subsequently, his other hand drifts away from Lance, who has to stretch far out of his coat pocket to grab Keith's hand and pull it back towards him so he can keep picking away at the ice cream. "What're you doin?" he asks around a mouthful of spoon.

"Researching," Keith says, and takes a bite out of the ice cream without hesitation. "You need to grow back as soon as possible."

"What do you think it'll take for me to grow back?" Lance asks.

Keith shrugs. "Haven't a clue."

"What if I need to drink some magic potion or something?" Lance muses aloud. "Sacrifice a goat? Oh!" He pounds a fist into the opposite palm. "What if this is a Sleeping Beauty story and I need a kiss from a prince to go back to normal?"

Keith pauses to give Lance a confused look. "Don't you mean princess?"

"Uh, no. It's always the prince that does the kissing."

"Being kissed by a dude wouldn't bother you?"

"No, why should it? Kissing is kissing." Lance adopts a sly expression. "Why? Does it bother you?"

Keith blinks in surprise, then narrows his eyes. Right… Lance wasn't there when Keith had finally admitted to himself that he is into dudes. He doesn't feel comfortable just yet, letting Lance have access to that information, so he flips the topic back towards Lance. "You're not a princess, Lance. Besides, who would your prince be?"

Lance quiets a little. "No one in particular," he mumbles.

"Like Hunk? He's your friend, right?"

Lance looks taken aback. "Hunk's like my brother, dude."

"See? You need to find a more realistic solution."

"Like anything about my situation is realistic, Keith!"

"Obviously it is if it's happening!"

"Keith?"

Lance squeaks and slides back into Keith's pocket.

Keith glances over his shoulder to see Nyma patting towards him, ponytail swaying with every step. She smiles but Keith can detect something lurking beneath her carefully manicured expression. "What are you doing here?"

Nyma giggles into the back of her hand like Keith had told the funniest joke in the world. "I can't get ice cream like everyone else?"

Keith swallows. "Well, yeah, I guess."

She gestures to the seat next to him. "May I?"

Keith gives a noncommittal noise, and Nyma takes the invitation. He can feel Lance poking him in the chest, and he resists the urge to poke back.

Nyma leans on her elbows, an obvious attempt at showing off her breasts. She tilts her head to one side flirtatiously, and Keith can't laugh because it's rude because it's in times like these when he affirms that he is So Fucking GayTM. "Can I have a taste?" Nyma doesn't even wait for Keith's response before she's opening her mouth to lick at Keith (and Lance's) cone.

Lance kicks him hard this time, and the reflex makes his arm jerk, and soon Nyma finds herself with a face full of vanilla ice cream. She yelps, hands flying to her face to wipe the chill from her mouth, and Keith is trying very hard not to laugh. He passes her a napkin and she accepts it at least.

"Why aren't you in class?"

Nyma raised an eyebrow at him. "I could ask you the same thing," she says. "I saw you bolt out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang for lunch."

Keith swallowed. "I had errands to run. I was gonna head back as soon as it was over."

Nyma flicks her wrist to reveal a watch from under her bright yellow jacket sleeve. "Lunch period ended thirty minutes ago." She rested her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek against her palm with a grin. "Better get moving, pretty boy."

The nickname put a vile taste in Keith's mouth, but he stood all the same and quickly vacated the space.

"Pretty boy," he can hear Lance mutter to himself from his coat pocket.

Keith makes it back to school halfway through his second to last class of the day. He inclines his head apologetically to the teacher and plops into his seat with a sigh. At Lance's insistence, he had gone straight from the mall and back to class, thus leaving Lance in his coat pocket.

Lance friends, Pidge and Hunk, corner him during break, crowding against his desk like Keith was some kind of criminal in the interrogation room.

"Where were you off to in such a hurry?" Pidge queries, her face right up close to Keith's.

"Errands," he says.

"In the middle of the school day?" Pidge narrowed her eyes.

"It's none of your business," Keith says firmly, and cross his arms.

"Look man, we know you and Lance used to be super close," Hunk says, putting a hand on Pidge's shoulder to keep her from climbing on top of Keith's desk. "But he isn't telling us anything about the tryouts and it's been, like, two days. Is he telling you anything?"

Keith shook his head. "No."

Keith is a horrible liar, and he knows it. He once tried to frame Lance from stealing the last brownie when he was six by pointing at the other boy with said stolen brownie in the same hand.

"I haven't talked to Lance since forever," he continues, hopefully convincingly. "Besides, you guys are his friends. It's you he should be talking to."

Hunk and Pidge exchange worried glances.

Lance suddenly delivers a sharp jab to his gut. Keith visibly flinches, one hand flying to a spot just below his ribcage. Hunk and Pidge are looking at him weirdly.

"Are… you okay?" Hunk asks tentatively.

"Oh, oh yeah," Keith manages, and tries to smile to diffuse the awkwardness but he's pretty sure he only made it worse. "Just a, uh. A cramp. I must have worked out too hard this morning. Ha-ha, you know how that goes… I'm just gonna… work it off a little…"

Hunk seems to buy it. Pidge eyes him even closer, but thankfully doesn't pursue it. Keith turns away and angles his body so that no one can see him pull his jacket back enough so that Lance can poke his head out.

"What was that for!?" Keith whisper-yells.

Lance pouts. "I can't breathe in here."

"You're the one who said I didn't have time to drop you off back home before class," Keith retorts. "So just cut it out."

"It's uncomfortable," Lance continues, and tries to stomp his feet for emphasis but the pocket doesn't allow for much movement. So instead Lance kicks his feed up so his legs and arms are dangling over the mouth of the pocket like he's lounging in a pool, and throws Keith a wink.

Keith closes his jacket with a snap, muffling Lance's cry of surprise. Surprisingly, Keith doesn't hear from his pocket-sized nuisance for the rest of the period. He takes advantage of class change to head to the bathroom, closing and locking the stall door. He opens his jacket and pulls at the lip of the pocket.

"Lance?"

Okay, yes, Keith is gay, so he can appreciate a good-looking face, even if that face belongs to his ex-childhood best friend and current freeloader. So, what Keith sees may just be the admittedly cutest thing he has ever seen. Lance has curled up at the bottom of the pocket, fast asleep. One leg is propped above his head, the other bent comfortably beneath him. His arms serve as makeshift pillows, the scene almost like he was swinging from a hammock on a warm spring day, mouth slightly parted as he breathed.

Keith gently closes his jacket, and tries not to make too much noise as he exits the bathroom. He sheds the jacket once he takes a seat for final period, draping it over the back of his seat so that his movements wouldn't wake Lance. He curses himself for being so sentimental over the whole thing. Keith may dislike Lance, but he isn't cruel. If Lance staying asleep means that he won't disturb class, then Keith is fine with letting him nap.

The day finishes surprisingly quickly. Keith gathers his books and makes his way to his locker, exchanging the books for his backpack. He's exhausted from the day's shopping excursion, and cannot wait to get home and take a short nap.

Shiro is typing away at his laptop when Keith gets home. His brother levels an accusatory gaze at him, and Keith can feel the lecture coming.

"Ms. Allura called," Shiro begins. "She says you skipped lunch and half of third period."

Keith does his best to look unintimidated, but Shiro can read him like an open book, and knows he doesn't believe him when he says, "Just getting some fresh air."

Shiro raises an eyebrow. "For two hours?"

Keith chews on his tongue. "Personal stuff."

Shiro raises the other eyebrow. "Personal stuff," he repeats. "Keith, I don't need to remind you that you need to do well in school, and that means no skipping classes."

"I already know most of what they're teaching anyway," Keith mutters, not unheard by Shiro, who just sighs.

"Keith…"

"Yeah, I know," Keith says. "Look, I'll be in my room. Let me know when dinner is ready."

Shiro knows better than to follow Keith into his room, but Keith is certain that this will not be the last he hears about this.

"I was just totally skewered by my brother for you," Keith says aloud, and plops his backpack on the ground. "You'd better be grateful."

Silence. Is Lance still asleep?

"You're gonna be up all night if you – oh shit."

Keith pats himself down, shoulder, chest, and waist. It takes him a minute of staring in a mirror to figure out what's missing when it suddenly hits him like a freight train.

He'd left his jacket on the back of his chair, with Lance still in it.