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Say The Word

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“Dude, will you stop drooling over the ad? People are staring.” Pidge pushed past Lance, barely able to move the tall man-child.

“He… he’s just so beautiful…” Lance unconsciously reached out to the giant hanging poster. “I had no idea he had a new photos coming out!”

“Really? I thought you’d be the first one.” Pidge pushed up their glasses and smirked. “You’ve been stalking Keith Kogane since he was lurking in the back of music videos when we were in high school.”

“First off, that was only four years ago, and second: I’m not a stalker! I’m just a fan. He’s a world famous model, Pidge. He’s bound to have a fan or two.”

“Yeah, whatever stalker. Let’s go inside. I think those girls over there recognized you and I’m cold.”

Lance whined a few more times, looking up at the ad campaign. It was for glasses, and dear god did Keith Kogane look good with glasses. The big colorful frames emphasized his gorgeous eyes and thick dark lashes. Were his eyes blue? Were they grey? Hell, sometimes they even looked purple. Lance had spent hours scrolling through the boys Instagram trying to figure the color. Not that he was complaining.

And then there was his smile.

Lance had memorized every smile Keith had ever shown the camera. There were the shy ones, the commercial ones, the smirks, the ones the photographers caught in the middle of a laugh. Each time Keith smiled was a blessing, and the photographer was a freaking saint. Keith smiles sent shivers down his spine, made his breath hitch in his throat, and made his stomach lurch like he was on a rollercoaster.

Now, if only he could meet him.

There was a chance. A slim chance, but still a better one than most. The band Lance was a part of was really taking off in the past year, getting more and more popular by the second. Still, Lance didn’t feel like he was a celebrity. Not like Beyoncé or Lady Gaga or Keith Kogane. No, he was just on the verge of stardom. The band Voltron was just starting to become a house hold name. The gigs they used to perform in the back of some shitty bar were being replaced with sold out stadium shows. And this was only the beginning.

“O.M. GEEE! You- you’re Lance McClain!” A group of girls leaped in front of Lance, interrupting his pinning over the poster. “And you! You’re Pidge Holt!”

They all screamed. Lance was impressed they didn’t break the glass behind them. Pidge elbowed Lance in the ribs, “This is all your fault!” The whispered in a rush. They never really liked getting recognized out in the street like this, but Lance adored it. He instantly turned on the charm.

“Ladies.” He threw on his biggest, most confident grin. They one he used on stage that made the girls (and some guys) go wild. “How’s it going? Wanna picture?”

The girls screeched again, pulling out their phones. Lance and Pidge stood for a few photos. One of the girls begged Lance for a selfie. He happily obliged, holding the phone out with one of his long arms and hugging the girl with the other. She practically melted against him.

“Thank you so much! You guys totally rock.” The ring leader of the trio gushed.

“Aw thanks. I knew I rocked individually, but it’s good to know we rock as a whole.” Lance grinned.

“Isn’t that a line from Scott Pilgrim?” Pidge snorted.

“Ignore them ladies,” Lance buried them in a headlock. “Thanks for keeping my ego nice and big! Oh and don’t forget, our new album drops in December.” Pidge squirmed against Lance’s side, a whole manner of curse words muffled by his jacket.

“We already preordered it on iTunes.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Well, see you later.” He winked, watching as all three of them imploded. Lance finally let go of Pidge, turning towards the store entrance.

Pidge shoved him as he reached for the door. “You’re a jerk.”

“And you’re short.”

Lance smirked at his friends’ mumbled curse words. Once inside the nice warm department store, Lance made a beeline to the left. More ads with Keith’s beautiful face were plastered behind a counter with sunglasses on display. There was a shot of Keith wearing a leather jacket with nothing but his bare chest underneath. He was running his hands through his gorgeous pitch black hair and balancing sunglasses on the tip on his nose.

Suddenly, Lance felt the need for a new pair of shades.

“If he was selling toilet paper you would buy it.” Pidge trailed behind, always ready to toss and insult at their dorky friend.

“Damn strait. He’d make anything look hot.”

“You, my friend, are obsessed.”

Lance shrugged and asked the girl at the counter for whatever Keith was wearing in the poster behind her. She stared at the two of them a little longer than usual, trying to figure out why she recognized them. It was a fun game Lance liked to play when stuff like this happened. He would count the seconds to see how long it would for a confused person to make the connection. 

One, two, three-

Woop, there it is.

Her cheeks suddenly flushed as her eyes grew wild. The girl hands were shaking as she held out the glasses. He tried them on making faces in the little mirror on the counter. “Whatddya think, Pidge?”

“I think you’re a dork.”

“I’m gonna get them.” He reached for his wallet.

“That’s a big surprise, oh- Shiro’s calling.” They swiped their phone to answer. “What’s up…? Oh reeallly? Ooo that sounds like fun…”

“What sounds like fun?” Lance knew that tone. It was Pidge’s ‘I know something you don’t know’ tone. It drove him up the wall when Pidge did this. They always liked to hold shit like this over him. Dangling it just out of reach. Lance hated not knowing something. “What is it?” he repeated.

“-yeah that’s Lance. Shiro says hi.” Pidge began to walk away.

“Hi- wait what was the first thing?”

“Pay for your sunglasses.”

“Pidge!” he whined. Lance handed the blushing girl his card. She fumbled with it for a second, dropping it on the ground. Lance bounced on his heels as Pidge walking further away, disappearing in the crowd. He snatched up his card and receipt, saying a quick thanks before racing after his friend.

Pidge still had the phone up to their ear, midway through a sentence. “- we all know who Lance is going to pick. He’s probably going to pass out when you- HEY GET OFF!”

Lance hopped on their short frame, reaching for the phone. The two made a scene on the department store floor, yelling and screaming at each other. Pidge flailed, somehow managing to avoid his long arms. They pushed Lance’s face away with their hand, “Get off!”

“Tell me what Shiro said!”   

“Get off my back!”

“Get your hand out of my face!”

All their scrambling caused Pidge to hit the speaker button on their phone. “I don’t know what’s going on, but would you two knock it off!”

They both froze at Shiro’s voice. As the oldest, he was the unofficial leader of the band. And also the one who kept all of them in line. Lance snatched the phone out of their hands and turned off speaker.

“Hellooo Shiro! Btw, it was totally Pidges fault.”

“You jumped on me! And who’s says ‘btw’ in real life!?”

Lance shushed them by putting a finger over their mouth. “ANYWAYS, what’s up? What’s the big news?”

There was a long sigh, “Well I was just telling Pidge about our new music video. Coran and I were thinking about featuring some LGBTQ+ models or actors in it…”

Models?

“We have a few names were looking at, but Coran wanted to ask you guys if you had anyone you wanted to work with…”

Anyone? Oh there was someone. And since he had a history appearing in music videos, there was a very high chance that he might be on board.

“So do you have anyone in mind? Lance? You still there?”

“Keith Kogane.” The name fell from his lips, making them tingle like he’d just eaten something spicy.

“What was that? You were mumbling.”

“You said I could pick anyone right?” Lance had wondered back to the sunglass counter, staring up at the ad. “I want Keith Kogane.”

“I thought you might say that.” There was laughter somewhere in the background. It sounded like Hunk. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t get your hopes up.”

It was way too late for that warning. Lance was already imagining their first meeting. He was already planning his outfit, what he was going to say, what his Tweet was going to be about meeting the amazing Keith Kogane. And if everything goes to plan, they would become friends. And not just Facebook friends, but actual irl friends. And then they’d become more than just friends…

Lance handed the phone back to Pidge, lost in his day dream. He began walking towards the exit. The purpose of this shopping trip completely forgotten. The sunglasses he’d just bought slide down to his nose, but he didn’t notice at all. Lance couldn’t believe it. He actually had a shot.

“Thinking about how you’re going to propose?” Lance jumped, screeching in surprise.

“Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he went to whack Pidge’s arm but missed entirely.

“I wasn’t sneaking; you were too busy daydreaming to notice me. So, Shiro told you the big news, eh?”

“Just imagine Pidge, in a few weeks, I’m going to be in the same room as Keith Kogane. Breathing the same air… I need a haircut.”

“Didn’t you just get one last week?”

“I need another. And- and a facial! My skin is so dry and scaly, I’m practically a lizard!”

“Lance, calm down. We don’t even know if he’s going to say yes-“

“Nail polish remover! We need nail polish remover! Look at this,” he held out his hands in front of him, the dark blue polish was chipped horribly. “I can’t meet Keith Kogane with my nails like this!”

“You’re impossible.” Pidge hurried down the busy street, weaving in and out of the crowd. They weren’t trying to run away from Lance, but they weren’t giving him a chance to catch up either. Lance was too busy freaking out about every little thing, voicing his worries out loud. At first people passed him normally, but pretty soon they crowd was steering clear of the crazy kid talking to himself.

This erratic behavior continued all the way to the CVS on the corner, and then to the train, and then up the stairs to his apartment. Pidge had said goodbye a long time ago, heading to meet their brother Matt for a movie. Lance didn’t even notice they were gone until he unlocked the door to his place.

He place his new sunglasses carefully on the kitchen table and switched on the TV, more out of habit than anything. He plopped on the couch and grabbed his shopping bag with cotton balls and a bottle of nail polish remover. He scrubbed away the blue polish, tossing stained cotton balls left and right. It littered the floor like confetti at a party.

A few hours later, after his second coat of polish finally dried, Lance’s phone lit up with a message from Shiro. Lance felt the whole room spin as he read the short message.

Heard back from Kogane’s people. He sounds interested. Not a yes, but fingers crossed.

This was happening way too fast. It had been what? Four hours? Five? There’s no way this was real. Shiro had to be lying, or worst. Pidge had hacked his phone and sent the message. That had to be it.

Lance’s fingers flew on his phone. Bull-shit. This is Pidge, isn’t it? Don’t toy with my emotions.

It only took a few moments for a response. Language Lance. And no, it’s me.

Still a bit unconvinced, Lance sent another message. Proof?

Lance watched the three little dots move, his anticipation growing. A picture was attached to this message. It was a screenshot from and email. It was addressed to Shiro, all in professional gibberish. Lance scanned the message and when he found what he was looking for; he read it four more times before the words made sense.

Mr. Kogane is extremely interested.

Extremely interested.

Interested in the extreme. 

Lance might have short circuited. He sent Shiro some random emoji and the set his phone down on his bed. He didn’t remember coming to his room; hell he didn’t remember standing up from the couch. But it was apparent that he needed to move. There was a huge rush of energy suddenly squirming in his belly and he needed to get it out.

Lance paced back and forth in his room, a tiny groove in the carpet marking his path. “I can’t believe this is happening… I cannot believe this is happening…”

He fell back on his bad, careful not to mess up his perfectly painted nails. Lance’s heart pounded against his rib cage. A warm feeling spreading from his chest to his toes. This must have been a dream.

Lance rolled onto his side, facing one of the many posters he hung behind his bed. There was a weird assortment of things he’d taped up there after moving into this comfortable one bedroom apartment. There was a Star Wars poster (Empire of course), a flyer from one of their first shows, a drawing of a dragon by one of his younger siblings, a wrapper from some Japanese candy a fan had sent them, and ticket stubs literally everywhere,  filling in all the empty spaces.

But the biggest thing of them all, the one thing he actually framed on this messy wall of things, was a picture of Keith.

The picture wasn’t advertising anything, it was just him. His hair bellowing around him, the sharp lines of his profile looking too perfect to be natural. Like they were sculpted by some renaissance artist. Lance had had the damn thing for years now and still didn’t get tired looking at it.

Okay so maybe he was a little bit obsessed. But at least he didn’t have like, a shrine in his closet or anything.

Yet.

It’s been two minutes since he got Shiro’s text and already he was ready to burst. He needed an answer, now if he wanted to survive the rest of the week. Lance hopped off his bed and raced to grab his laptop from the living room. He fell on this couch and opened up YouTube. He typed in his crushes name and squealed in joy as all sorts of results popped up.

 


 

“What’s wrong with him?” Pidge poked Lance’s cheek, snickering when he tried to swat them away. Lance buried his face into his arms, making himself as comfortable as he could against the hard wood table.

“I don’t know.” Hunk shrugged and plopped down next to Lance at the table shooing Pidge away. They had a glass of water in their hands that was dangerously close to Lance’s head. “He probably stayed up late again last night.”

As if to answer, Lance mumbled something into the crook of his elbow. Pidge took the opportunity to mess with him. “Or he was too busy thinking about you know who.” They slid in the seat next to him, propping their head on their hands.

“...mmmgoawaaaayPiiiidge….” Lance’s voice was muffled.

Pidge pretended not to hear his protests. “I bet he already has an outfit picked out and what he’s going to say…”

“Piiiddge.”

“- see you repainted your nails. What if you chip it the day you meet Kogane? What will the world famous model think when he sees how little you care about you appearance?”

Lance finally sat up and rubbed his hands through his hair. He knitted his fingers together and his arms dangle on the sides on his head. “Pidge. I hate you.”

“You’re thinking about it now, huh?” They poked him in the side, getting a little frustrated groan from their friend. “Getting all worked up again?”

“Yes.” Lance whined and banged his head back down on the table.

Hunk slapped him on the back, “C’mon man, stop stressing. We don’t even know if he’s going to say yes. All we know is that he’s interested. And really, they could just be a nice way of saying no thanks- without really, y’know saying it.”

“Hunk. You’re making Lance implode.” Pidge pointed out. And sure enough Lance had sunk lower in his seat and looked about ready fall off his chair. If it were possible, there would be a thunder cloud hanging over his head right about now.

“Whoops. Sorry buddy.” Hunk lightly tapped him on the shoulder; a little worried he might have broken him.

Lance suddenly sat up, a new energy making him look downright insane. “What if Hunk is right?” he asked Pidge, wide eyed. “What if he does say no? What if they’re just letting us down easy? Then I’ll never get to meet him.” He began pulling at strands of his hair, making it stick out in random places. “Pidge, what am I going to do if I never meet him??”

“Um, be a normal person?” They suggested.

“Tch, that’s overrated.” Lance leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.

 The ceiling in this place was high. Higher than the one in their last studio. Well, there last studio hadn’t been anything special. Just an old store converted into a recording studio for fun. Hunk’s parents owned the place but after a local restaurant across the street closed, business had been kind of slow. It took the collective begging of Lance, Pidge and Hunk to let them convert the place into something they could use for their budding musical talents.

Throw in a promise from Shiro that he wouldn’t let things get out of hand and bam; you got the start of some great things. And man, those were some amazing times.

Lance counted the ceiling tiles, going through the events of his crazy life one little slice at a time. He thought about those long nights in the store, coming up with new melodies and lyrics that made his head spin. Pidge teaching themselves all these complicated rhythms on their beat up old drum set. Hunk fingers flying on his bass, complementing Lance’s guitar playing to a t. And then there was Shiro, surprising them all when he revealed that not only could he play guitar, but that he was a fucking pro at it. Lance remembered the first time they put it all together and actually felt like a real band. Like they had found magic inside those four little walls. And dear God, did he want to hold on to that feeling forever.

So they kept on creating, kept on moving, for no one really but themselves. The recorded a few things here and there; landing a few gigs at local places in town. It wasn’t until his little sister uploaded their stuff on YouTube that things really got interesting. Now everyone was beginning to feel what Lance had felt that first night they found their sound. At least, he thinks they do.

Moving out of that little place a few months ago was necessary. It was a part of the process of ‘making it’ in this industry. Now they had a big cushy studio with a lounge, a kitchen and also a room in the back with beds for them to sleep in if they were pulling an all-nighter. Which has happened several times.

Cozied up next to the place was a big warehouse that their label uses for music videos. Soon, Lance would be living in that place while they tried to get four videos done in a month. Whoever came up with that idea was seriously trying to kill him.

“Hey guys,” Shiro’s voice was ruining his day dreams. “Sorry I’m late.”

“7 minutes, Shiro.” Pidge pushed up their glasses which had begun to slide down there nose. “You better have a good excuse.”

“I brought coffee.” He set down the drink tray along with a pink box that just had to be filled with donuts.

“Oh hell yeah, I love it when Shiro pays.” Lance tugged at the drink with a big ‘L’ on the written on it and popped off the lid. He fanned the steam towards his face and practically melted at the sweet scent of coffee wafted around his head. Of course, normal coffee wasn’t supposed to smell like a bowl of ice cream topped with hot caramel and chocolate chips but of course Lance couldn’t have anything be too normal. It would, as he’s said a million times, ‘ruin the creative flow’.

The creative flow was nothing but Lance bouncing off the walls after drinking a four of those sugary beasts while trying to get Pidge to sing something on their next single. That usually ended with a sugar crash, along with something else crashing into a wall while Lance made his retreat.

Lance took few sips of the hot drink before putting the lid back on and reaching for a donut. “So Shiro,” he took a big bite, pink frosting getting stuck on the corner of his mouth, “why are we here so early?”

Shiro had his back to the table, too busy unloading one of his bags into the refrigerator. By the look of things, he had purchased a whole heap of things to get them through the next few weeks. “Were here to go over everything that’s going to be happening in the next month.” Shiro moved on to the freezer. As soon as he opened the door, he sighed. “Pidge? What is that?”

“Huh? Oh yeah!” Pidge practically skipped over to Shiro who had a less then enthused look on his face. “That’s part of a new system I’m building. I didn’t have the proper way to transport it back home, so the circuits have to stay cold if I ever want to get it working. But yesterday Matt said that he-“

“Just- just get it out by the end of the day.” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. He worked around the chunk of electronics, putting in some frozen meals and a tub of something that looked like ice cream inside. Lance didn’t get his hopes up though. Most likely it was gelato. Shiro loved the stuff.

“Fiiinnne.” Pidge whined as they dragged their feet back to the table. “I’ll text Matt.”

After a few more minutes of Pidge’s whining, Shiro had unpacked everything and pulled up the last chair at their kitchen table. He pulled out his phone and planner out of his jacket pockets. “Alright… so…”

“So fearless leader, just how tired am I going to be after all this is over?” Lance asked, finishing off his donut.

“You’ll be fine, Lance.” He reassured. “We’ve all had worst times before.”

“Uh huh, yeah. That’s what you say now. But you’re not the one who has to write a new song in a month.”

“A month and a half and it was just a suggestion.” Shiro sighed. “Coran was just saying having twelve songs instead of eleven on the album would round it out better.”

“What’s wrong with eleven songs?” Lance stuck out his bottom lip in a forced pout.

“Nothing, it’s just an odd number.”

“You’re an odd number…” he mumbled into his cup.

Hunk nudged him with his shoulder. “Ooo, nice one buddy.”

“BACK TO BUSINESS….” Shiro had raised his voice to dad mode which made everyone at the table shut up. “We have a lot to do before December rolls around and we can’t afford to get behind.” He flipped open his planner that had a whole mess of colored tabs sticking out here and there. “Now, the album comes out on December 20th, digital copy only. We won’t be doing a physical CD until February-“

“I’m pretty sure my parents are the only ones who buy those.” Hunk chimed in. “And, I guess your parents,” he pointed to Pidge, “and Lance’s. And- Shiro, do your parents still buy CDs?”

“We getting off topic again.” he sighed.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, any way… Lance, if you do decide to finish up that song for the album, we’d need by 15th at the latest. That way we’d have enough time to record it and get it ready for the release.”

So yeah, a month to write a song Lance thought. It’s not like he couldn’t do it. Once he churned out four songs in one day. But that was a different time. There wasn’t this pressure of release dates or anything like that. It was just fun. But being an up and coming rock star was pretty damn fun too, just… it took a little more effort to just sit down and write a song lately.

Lance had missed the part of Shiro’s rambling when it came to cover art finally being decided on but he was snapped right back into the conversation at the mention of a certain name.

“What did you say about my boyfriend?” Lance popped up in his chair, his full attention on Shiro.

Pidge snorted. “I think you mean husband, dude.” Lance shot them a dirty look but then realized that husband sounded a lot better than boyfriend. He felt his insides squirm at the idea.

Shiro chuckled at the expression on Lance’s face. “Well, I haven’t heard anything about it today, but my friend on the inside let slip that Keith is a big fan of ours.”

“Okay time out.” Lance held up his hand effectively shushing the older man. He took a deep breath and spoke a little too loudly. “You mean to tell me that Keith fucking Kogane is a fan?” Shiro open his mouth to speak but was cut off again by an even louder Lance. “AND that you, Takashi Shirogane, have a connection that is close enough to my future husband to actually KNOW his taste in music?? I thought we were friends!?”

“Calm down, Lance. Of course were friends.” Shiro had an amused look on his face, clearly not bother by Lance’s words or tone.

“Then how come this is the first time I’ve heard of this mystery person?!”

“Because-“Pidge, who was busy doing something on their phone during this whole conversation suddenly decided to speak up. “if you’d known about Allura, you would have gone all psycho on her and asked her to… I don’t know- get a piece of Keith’s hair or some other crazy stalker thing.”

Lance shook his head, “I am not a stalker!” Then a question struck him. “Wait, who’s Allura?”

With a very audible sigh, Pidge tapped on their phone for a few minutes before sliding it over to Lance. “Allura Altea. Keith Kogane’s stylist and current bff. Shiro and her met in college, but fell out of touch after hero boy over here went into the army. She found him on Facebook a few months ago and they’ve been messaging each other off and on. “

Lance scrolled through her Facebook, instantly recognizing her from some pictures he’d seen on Keith’s Instagram. He’d always thought she was pretty, but he usually didn’t pay attention to anyone if Keith was in the photo. Looking at her now though, he realized that she wasn’t just pretty. She was downright the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Long slivery hair, dark skin and a killer body, she looked like a princess beamed down from the planet awesome. One picture of both her and Keith posing after some runway show made Lance wonder why everyone didn’t swing both ways.

He slid back the phone to Pidge, a million new questions on his mind. He only managed to spit out one. “H-how do you know all this?”

“Yeah,” Shiro crossed his arms and looked down at them a little annoyed. “How do you know all that?”

Pidge simply shrugged. “You yelled at me for keeping my stuff in the freezer.” They went back to their phone, probably changing Shiro’s password and updating his status to something stupid. Lance stared at his friends, kind of astonished that they managed to learn that much in a manner of minutes. And he also felt a little more afraid of them than usual.

All of that aside, Lance went back to what Shiro had said. Keith… Keith Kogane was a fan of theirs? A fan of his? Could it really be possible?

It felt like a dream, not something that could ever be reality. His crush listened to their music- enjoyed their music, bought their music. Hell if he had known that, Lance would have invited the guy to a concert. Played it off real cool and given him a backstage pass and everything. He was picturing it in his mind. It played out like some crazy, crazy dream.

Now the real question. Which song was Keith’s favorite?

The conversation carried on around him, but Lance had checked out completely. No one said anything when he stood up from the table, a far off look on his face. They had seen that face many times before. Dreamy eyes with a concentrated tilt to his brow. Lance was on the verge of something. Now his creative juices really were flowing.

Lance strode over to the couch, a beat up old guitar case leaned up against the soft leather. This old electric guitar wasn’t the one he used in shows. It wasn’t the one he wailed on when he was cooped up in the recording studio, hammering out take after take until he got it perfect. No, this wasn’t something people got to see often. In fact, there was only about a dozen people in the world who seen this particular guitar.  

With practiced hands, Lance hoisted the case onto the coffee table and flicked open the metal latches. He pulled aside the protective cloth and picked up the old instrument, letting his fingers run across the strings making an out of tune twang. He sat back and picked the strings individually, one hand tuning it to perfection.

Lance had brought his dad’s old guitar with him in a kind of spur of the moment decision. He didn’t take it out of his place often. A weird fear that he would somehow lose it on the train or drop it running down the street- just thinking of those things made his heart pound a little faster.

But today had just felt different. Getting about 4 hours of sleep might have had something to do with that, but Lance couldn’t know for sure.

Out of the dozens of songs he’s written over the years, the ones that got them famous, the ones that made his mom cry, the ones that have never been hear by anyone other than the people in this room; all of his most favorite creations had been composed on this guitar. And hopefully, he was about to stumble upon another one.

Lance closed his eyes, propping his feet up on the table and leaning his head back and trying to get the cords to match the feeling he had running through his head. That how things always started when he was writing; with a feeling.

He wasn’t really sure what the feeling was though and that hadn’t happened before. Whether it be in a fit of rage, lost in some sadness, or trying to navigate his way through young love, Lance always knew where he was starting when he picked up his guitar and started trying out some cords. Only this time, the feeling was much more abstract than anything he’d ever felt before. It didn’t have a name… at least not one that he knew about. Lance didn’t put much thought into it and continued strumming out different cords on his guitar waiting to find the right one to appear.


 

The next day, Lance had once again fallen asleep on his couch. He’d spent the night on his laptop looking through Allura’s Facebook page. It took so much self-control not to send her a friend request. That and Shiro had given him the death glare when he mentioned it yesterday. To his dismay, Keith didn’t have a Facebook. The only things that popped up where stupid fan pages.

There was a loud buzzing sound in his ears, followed by a bang. He jumped up in surprise and immediately felt a creak in his back. “.. son of bitch…”. Lance moved slowly this time, stretching his poor back one little vertebra at a time.

The bang was his laptop, hitting the floor after he was jerked awake. As for the buzzing…? The handle on his front door rattled. Still a bit out of it, Lance launched himself into his bedroom slamming the door behind him. Was somebody breaking in? Was he about to get straight up murdered before he even got to meet Keith Kogane? He couldn’t die now, not when he was this close.

“Oh for the love of… Lance chill out it’s just us.” That was Pidge’s voice. Why was Pidge in his apartment? And then he remembered. Pidge has a spare key.

He swung the door open, kind of hoping it hit Pidge in their stupid little face. The door bounced off his wall leaving a mark. Now he’d have to fix that or face the wrath of his stupid super. “You lose spare key privileges.” His voice sounded a bit rough this morning. Good thing they didn’t have a gig or anything.

“No I’m not.” They waved the tall boy aside with one hand. “Who else could save your ass after you leave your keys on the train? Not Shiro, he lives on the other side of the town.”

“And not me.” Hunk appeared in the doorway, his arms ladled with take-out bags. “I lose my keys about as often as you do.”

“How do you two even survive without me?” Pidge pitched their nose, shifting their big round glasses.

“What are you guys doing here, anyways? You could have knocked.” Lance was still not over being woken up.

“Dude, we rang your buzzer like ten times.” Hunk set his things down and opened the fridge.

“Huh, so that was that buzzing sound…” suddenly he remembered the noise swimming in and out of his dreams. “I must have been out hard.”

“Judging by the bed head and drool stain- yeah I’d say so.” Lance rubbed his face with his sleeve and ran his hands through his hair. Pidge’s eyes suddenly got wide; their big glasses making them look the size of saucers. “Wait, you just woke up… so that means you haven’t heard yet?” There was that tone again.

“What? Heard what?!” Lance began bouncing on his heels. “Hunk, tell me!”

Pidge practically flew over to Hunk, clapping their hands over his mouth. “Don’t you say shit, Hunk!”

“Tell me!” Lance whined, looking like a big child having a tantrum.

“You see, this is what happens when you sleep the day away. It’s practically one, y’know.”

“Ugh, I don’t care- tell me what’s happening!”

“Nope.”

“Piiidge!”

“Why don’t you check your phone, you big baby.”

“My phone…? MY PHONE!” Lance dove to the couch, looking for the little device. He’d fallen asleep with it sitting next to him, so it had to be there somewhere. He tossed the pillows aside, digging into the cushions. Just as he was about to dive in head first, he heard a little buzz. Like his laptop, his phone had fallen on the hardwood floor. Lance snatched it up. He pressed the button, but to his horror it was dead. That last little buzz must have been its dying wail.

Lance made it to his room in two long strides. He dove across his bed to and reached for his phone charger on the ground. He jammed the cord in and waited impatiently for the thing to come to life.

“Didn’t charge you phone, huh?” Hunk came into the room, a bag of chips in his hands.

“I forgot, okay? I didn’t realize the shit would be going down on a Tuesday. I mean, it’s Tuesday. No one likes Tuesdays.”

 “What do you have against Tuesdays, man?”

“They’re just- I don’t know! Wait… its working!” Lance watched in glee as his phone lit up. His eyes got wide, watching the start-up screen do its thing. After a few agonizing seconds, a message made it buzz in his hands. It was from Shiro.

Lance’s heart legitimately skipped a beat. This was it. This message could very well hold a yes. Or, what if it was a no?

His finger hovered over the message icon. Hunk bounced on the bed, making his hand slip and hit it. The message popped open and Lance wanted to scream.

We got Kogane.

 


 

Lance was pacing again, but this time he had an audience for his freak out. Pidge and Hunk were sitting on the little couch across from him watching his slow descent in to madness. They were still in the studio today, going over contracts and scheduling for the next few days.

One thing no one really liked to think about in this professional world was the legal stuff. Shiro handled pretty much all of that and made sure that no one accidently signed their life away. Lance in particular wondered why a verbal agreement wasn’t enough anymore. He was still pretty naïve to how brutal the industry could be.

“Would you sit down already? You’re giving me a head ache.” Pidge tucked their legs underneath them, never breaking eye contact with their phone.

“I can’t sit down!” he didn’t mean to shout, he was just so worked up that it came out in a burst. Lance clamp his jaw shut, welding them together with and imaginary blow torch. He had to calm down. If he didn’t, he might make himself look like a fool in front of Keith.

Lance dragged his feet to one of the chairs, basically collapsing on the soft leather.

Hunk looked at him with a little smile on his face. “You’ll be fine buddy. You’re just getting all worked up over nothing.” He stretched out, putting his feet on the table. “Keith is just a normal guy, y’know. It’s not like he’s royalty or anything.”

“He might be…”

“Hunk, stop talking.” A small hand cut off whatever Hunk was trying to say next. “You’re just going to make things worse.”

“Sorry.”

Lance nodded shakily. Sitting down was not helping, but he didn’t want to look like a crazy person. Pacing up and down the floor, muttering to himself. What a horrible first impression that would be. Lance clutched his shaking hands together, trying to hold on to any sense of dignity he had. This shouldn’t have been making him so nervous. What would a rational person do in this situation?

While Lance was busy thinking about that, the door behind him swung open. In walked Shiro, talking animatedly over his shoulder. Lance nearly froze in his seat. This was is. This was the moment he’d been waiting for.

“I’m back.” Shiro called happily. Unable to keep his cool, Lance whipped around in his seat looking for his future husband. There was Allura, more beautiful in person, some guy in a suit that did not match his purple hair, and then a third person who looked like they’d just rolled out of bed and into a pile of dirty laundry. “Everyone this is Allura, Greg and I think you all know Keith-“

Keith? Where? Lance leaned out of his chair, trying to see if he was still in the doorway.

“Hey.” Hunk and Pidge hopped up from their spots to be cordial.

The walking ragamuffin suddenly spoke up, pushing a tuft of dark hair under their beanie. “’Sup.”

Lance felt like a rug was being pulled out from underneath him. Every crazy scenario he’d run though last night had not prepared him for this. There was nothing in his crazy, overactive imagination that planned for this. Keith Kogane. The amazingly beautiful Keith Kogane; looked like a fucking homeless person.

Lance.exe has stopped working