Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith only came to the Garrison because of those weird readings he’s been getting. He wouldn’t have come here otherwise. He rode here on his hoverbike because they said something was going to happen at these coordinates, but it seemed Keith was too late. Something had already happened, if the tent outside wasn’t indication enough. But, Keith has enough experience sneaking into places and he needs to get in there, so he sets off some explosions as distractions. When they blow, he goes inside, beats up the technicians, jumps over them, pulls down his bandana to breathe, and freezes.

“Shiro?”

Keith came here because he thought there might be aliens or some other type of extraterrestrial species, and he instead found his brother. But Keith doesn’t have the time to think, doesn’t have the time to hesitate, so he pulls out his silver blade and cuts the orange bond that’s keeping Shiro strapped in. Keith needs to get Shiro out of there and he’s unconscious, so he can’t assist Keith at all. So, Keith hoists Shiro’s arm over his shoulder, and prepared to drag him out, and— 

"Nope. No, you—No, no, no, no, no, no, no you don't.” A voice comes from the entrance. Keith freezes at the sound. He looks up to see who said it, and he locks onto a boy with brown hair, green jacket, and blue eyes. He’s cute. He’s not wearing gloves. “I'm saving Shiro."

Keith just stands and stares as the boy pushes the gurney aside, finger waggling in Keith’s face, and hoists up Shiro on the other side. Keith thinks his heart is beating out of his chest, like his stomach could turn. Keith hopes this is the appropriate amount of staring at someone who is a stranger (and interrupting his mission).

“Who are you?” Keith says.

“Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance.” The boy says it like Keith is supposed to know it. He blinks at Keith, waiting for that recognition. It never comes, because Keith just stares back.

“... We were in the same class at the Garrison?” The boy looks at him, looks hopeful, as if he wants him to remember him. As if it’s everything he’s ever dreamed of for him to remember. But Keith can’t answer him. He shouldn’t.

“Really? Are you a... engineer?”

“No, I’m a pilot.” The boy’s eyes are big and blue and they bear into Keith’s soul as if he could see inside, as if they were picking apart every secret that Keith hid. Keith wasn’t good at keeping secrets. “We were, like, rivals. You know, Lance and Keith, neck-and-neck.”

“Oh wait, I remember you. You’re a cargo pilot.” Keith doesn’t lie. When he left, the boy was a cargo pilot. But, his eyebrows press together at those words, like Keith said something wrong. He’s glaring, his eyes are cold. 

“Well, not anymore. I’m fighter class now, thanks to you washing out.”

“Well, congratulations,” Keith responds as he takes a step forward, pulling Shiro along. He’s still unconscious, and his feet are dragging against the dirt as they bring him to his hoverbike. It’s silent between him and the boy.

Before he knows it, there are five people on his bike made for two people at maximum, and trying to drive to his shed. The big man is talking about how he’s surprised they all fit, and that boy — Lance — is behind his left shoulder.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” he says, his voice rising on the last word. Keith snaps out of the trance he was in at his voice. 

“We could toss out some non-essential weight,” Keith replies, still looking forward. He doesn’t think before he says it. 

“Oh, right!” It’s silent as Keith continues to drive. “Okay, so that was an insult. I get it.”

Keith didn’t want to make the cute boy upset, but he doesn’t have time to do anything about it. The big man helps Keith with his turns, and Keith watches in his rearview window as the rovers crash into each other, until only one more is chasing them. But it wouldn’t be for long, because—

“Guys? Is that a cliff up ahead?” The big man says, stuttering.

Lance screams into Keith’s left ear. “Ooooh no, no, no! No, no, no, no—!"

Keith has never been happier to show off the drop, because he finally had an audience he cared about. He just leans forward and smirks. “Yup.”

He’s done this so many times, ever since Shiro had taught it to him. Granted, he’s never done it with this much weight, but there’s always a first time for everyone. When he does this, it’s like all the noises and screaming behind him get droned out. He hits the gas pedal and revs up the engine, speeding up the hoverbike towards the cliff. 

And then it jumps off.

“What are you doing?” Lance screams. Keith looks back for a split second as they fall, and sees him hanging onto the wing of the hoverbike for his life. “You’re going to kill us all!”

“Shut up and trust me,” Keith says, and waits for the perfect moment. They’re almost there. Maybe if Shiro were awake, he’d be proud to see this. It’s a shame his brother isn’t. 

He pulls the hoverbike up just in time for a perfect landing, parallel to the ground, and takes everyone back to his shed. They arrive a few hours past midnight, and Shiro is still unconscious. Lance helps Keith put him onto his bed. After Lance exits, Keith covers his brother in blankets and hangs some of his dad’s old clothes on the door. He can wear them when he wakes up. He walks back out to the living room.

“Do you have anything to drink? I am parched, lemme tell you. Rescuing someone and screaming from a mullet man trying to kill you really hurts the throat.”” Lance plops himself onto the couch.

“Only water.” Keith is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Okay, but what about things that flavor water? You have any of those droplet things you put in water? Instant coffee? Teabags? I’m partial to floral and herbal teas so if you have any, you should share,” Lance says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No, I do not have any tea. Or anything like that.”

“He’s lying; there’s homemade tea bags in the kitchen on the top shelf,” Pidge says, exiting the kitchen.

“We saw them when we were raiding your cabinets for food. Sorry to give you away, Keith,” Hunk says as he passes by with a huge pile of snacks in his arms.

“Also we claimed the floor right near the vent, so Lance can sleep on the couch,” Pidge says right before the pair disappears into the room.

“Dammit, no more warm air for me,” Lance sighs.

“Heater’s broken anyway. They’ll probably freeze if they get cocky and don’t get blankets,” Keith says as he moves to sit on the couch.

“Really? You’re not just lying to make me feel better?” Keith doesn’t even have a reason to lie to him.

“You wanna go look at the number of blankets I buried Shiro in?”

“No, I’m good. I’m just gonna take your word for it. However, I do still want that tea, so...”

Lance weaseled his way past Keith and was already heating hot water in the kitchen, and had grabbed a teabag. Keith knows that tea. It’s the one with jasmine and a touch of mint. And rose.

“Why’d you lie about the tea?”

“Didn't want you to use my personal collection.”

“I can see why. It looks like they were handmade. You make ‘em?”

“Yeah. Garrison taught me.”

“Well, at least I know it’s gonna be good. They do a good job with that course. Ya know, funny story. I have friends that fell in love over a cup of tea there. They were just at the cafe and bam— they left dating.”

“Sounds cute.”

“Isn’t it?”

They wait in silence. Keith can’t even think about grabbing that teabag from Lance to try and stop him, because the hot water kettle clicks and Lance is already pouring the water into the wave mug. He takes the mug and walks back over and sits on the floor opposite Keith. He could’ve sat on the loveseat there, but he didn’t. 

“Where are you gonna sleep, Keith?”

“The loveseat behind you.”

“It’s pretty small, are you gonna fit?”

“I’ll fit. It’s fine.”

Keith sits there, his arms crossed, as he watches the steam rise from Lance’s cup. He’s lost in thought, but he can smell as the room fills with the smell of roses.

“If you don’t want me here, I can sleep outside instead.”

“What?” 

“I get that I intruded on your Shiro rescue mission, okay? You don’t need to glare at me like that.” Lance looks like a kicked puppy, and Keith doesn’t want him to look like that, let alone for him to be the one who caused it.

“I’m glaring?”

“Yes, you are,” Lance snips at him.

“‘M sorry,” Keith says under his breath, ”you’re not bothering me, so—”

“Then why have you been so mean to me? You called me ‘non-essential weight’ on the hoverbike, you lied about the tea, and you’ve been snippy this whole time. Don't even get me started on the glaring.” Keith can feel his eyes stinging at Lance’s raised voice, can feel his heartbeat racing.

“I didn’t mean it.” Keith’s voice is raising too. “I—”

“So what did you mean, huh? What do you mean by this? Because to me, it just looks like you’re being mean for no reason.”

“I’m not mad, Lance, please stop.” Keith’s voice cracks as he says it, his eyes watering up. Keith can only take deep breaths. Keith can only smell roses in the air.

“No.” Lance takes a sip of his tea, and only a sip. “You didn’t even know who I was until I mentioned it. We were in the same class for years, Keith, and then when you learn I exist, you start acting mean? I didn’t even do anything to you. What’s your problem?” Lance’s eyebrows are pressed firmly together, and Keith is the person who caused it. It’s not any of that, it’s really not.

“It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” Lance interrupts. “It’s not what you meant, it’s not what I think? Bullshit, Keith. What do you want from me?”

“I don’t—”

“What?!” Lance yells, at the top of his lungs. Keith’s face is burning, his ears are getting red, and he can’t even think anymore.

“I love you!” Keith screams, tears streaming down his face. “And I want you to love me back. ”

It’s silent for a beat, and only a beat.

“I love you, Keith.”

Chapter Text

Keith had a best friend. He was a strange kid, but then again, they were all strange kids at the Garrison. But, in retrospect, he was a lot more normal than Keith. He didn’t sleep with a knife under his pillow like Keith did. Keith would never forget the boy with the brown hair, blue eyes, and bright smile.

Keith had kept to himself when he was fourteen. He had only one friend, and that was Shiro, and Shiro seemed more like a mentor than an actual friend. When Keith arrived at the Garrison, he knew he was never going to fit it. He didn't fit in at his previous school, and he wasn’t going to fit in there. But Keith didn’t care about that; Keith came here for something else. Keith came here to be free.

Keith had a place there. He was just a cadet, but he had a place at the Garrison. He was good at what he did, and he knew it. He could fly like no one else could, despite his apparent communication issues. It’s not that Keith wasn’t working on it. He just wasn’t used to it. And it didn’t help that the kids in his class weren’t the best either.

And then one of those kids said some shit about his parents, and Keith punched him and felt his jaw move under his fist. And then Keith was stuck sitting outside Iverson’s office because of that douchebag, and Keith was wasting the chance that Shiro had given him. Shiro invited him here even after he stole Shiro’s car, and he went and wasted his kindness. 

“That was a good punch on James.” A kid had walked up to him and sat down in the seat next to him. The first thing Keith noticed was his brown hair. The second was his blue eyes.

“On who?”

“James? The guy you punched in Iverson’s? Ugly hair, punchable face?”

“Oh, him. Right.” Keith didn’t know his name was James. He didn’t really know anything about his classmates.

“He’s an asshole, so no one really hates you for doing that. He’s been like this forever.”

“I’m not surprised.”  Keith didn’t know why this kid was talking to him.

“One time when we were younger, he accused me of stealing his girlfriend and punched me.”

“Ouch.”

“We were like ten and he didn’t have any muscles. Besides, he ended up worse than me.”

“How?”

“Never learned how to properly punch, so he broke his thumb upon contact with my jaw.”

A laugh exploded out of Keith before he can do anything, and Keith hasn’t laughed like this since he arrived here.

“Pft. He deserved that.”

The boy smiled at that, and that’s when Keith noticed how nice his smile was. When Keith noticed how he lit up just at Keith’s laugh.

“And he deserved that punch you threw to him. Speaking of throwing hands, are yours okay?”

“My hands? They’re fine.” Keith closed and opened his fists multiple times in his lap. “Nothing’s broken.”

The boy grabbed his hands and scoffed. “Just because nothing’s broken doesn’t mean it’s fine. It’s not fine though. Look at all these cuts and scratches.” His thumb ran over Keith’s palm. “Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he got up and ran off down the hallways. And Keith is still in shock from the whole situation, he doesn’t know what to do, so he just stays still. And waits for him. And it feels like an eternity, but he returns with a first aid kit, sits back down, and grabs Keith’s hands again.

“You probably already know, but this is gonna sting. Sorry.”

The boy wiped Keith’s hand with a wet wipe — disinfecting the wounds — and then put antibiotics on. Keith couldn’t do anything except stare. He couldn’t even flinch at the pain. No one has really taken care of him like this. He usually just let his hand wounds go. But here this boy was, taking care of them. He was pulling out bandages to wrap it.

“I did stuff like this for my younger siblings all the time. You know kids: they jump off swings and scrape their knees and then do it all over again. I’m done.” He let go of Keith’s hand, and they fall onto Keith’s lap.

“Um. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Well, it was a little bit of a problem, since I had to raid my friend’s room for his medical supplies and he’s gonna be pissed at me later, but he would’ve been glad that I helped someone in need, so it’s okay.”

This boy had done so much for Keith, and he didn’t seem to care that Keith’s responses were short. So Keith held out his newly bandaged hand. 

“I’m Keith. What’s your name?”

“… you don’t know who I am?” The smile had melted off of the boy’s face, and his eyes went ice cold. The boy had stood up and walked away after that, leaving Keith to follow him with his eyes everywhere he went. Keith would see him in the hallway during their free time, in class when he’s supposed to be focusing, and in the courtyard when he was just getting some fresh air and exercise He had forced Keith to notice him and forced Keith to care about him. Whenever he was in a room with him, Keith’s eyes snapped to him. And finally, after weeks of watching, Keith couldn’t take it anymore and walked up to him.

“I know your name,” Keith had said.

“You do?” he had replied.

Once Keith approached him, they were practically inseparable. They made contests out of everything, played pranks on the teachers, and just talked. They constantly teased each other, and they talked about their simulator high scores, and they talked about games and videos. He talked about his family and Keith talked about his lack of one for the first time in a long time, and Keith was happy.

He even told Shiro about him, about his new and only best friend. He talked about his blue eyes and his brown hair and how he made Keith laugh today, and Shiro was proud of him. Keith was happy at the Garrison, because it had given him this.

But everything always happened at the Garrison, because it was the Garrison. It was only a year or two later when it happened. The situation might’ve never happened if it wasn’t for the Garrison. After all, they provided an elective tea-making class (which wasn’t elective for Keith), they had the garden with their roses, and they had brought the two of them together. 

After every session of the tea-making class, they hosted a cafe, where each waiter served the tea they had made during the day. And the first table Keith had was for them: the two most obvious kids in their class, skirting around each other again. Everyone knew they liked each other—except for the two of them—and everyone knew they wanted to date. Keith just wanted them to stop being oblivious. So, he took his rose tea to their table in the cute porcelain cups on saucers. And he poured the tea into the cups. And as they took a sip, he spoke. 

“You two should just date already.” Keith’s breath smelled like flowers when he said it. His mouth shut and his eyes widened. They both froze, then put down their cups.

“Okay.” They blinked. They looked at their empty hands. They interlaced them, and they started talking as if nothing had ever happened. As if they had always been dating. Like it was natural. Keith walked away, and they acted as if he had never been there in the first place. As if they forgot about him. 

The smell of roses in his breath, despite not trying the tea. The way his voice sounded as he spoke those words, their unnatural movements as he spoke. Their response, perfectly in sync and perfectly dissonant. It was as if Keith had put a spell on them.

Keith told his best friend about it, and the more he talked about it, the more he thought he might actually have put a spell on them.

“It’s the power of suggestion,” his best friend said. “You should test it though. Can you do it on your own or do they need to be drinking tea to do it? Does the type of tea relate to the command?” 

“You’re kidding.” Keith had just discovered his power and told his friend, and he was telling Keith to use it on more people.

“No, I’m serious! Think about it. You told Nadia and Ina—”

“Wait, that’s their names?” Keith interrupted.

“They’ve been in our class for two years now, how did you forget their names?” His friend’s hands went to his head, his face morphing into one of shock.

“I didn’t forget... I just never knew their names.”

“You are terrible. I’m amazed you still remember my name, Keith. Quick, what is it?”

“Whatever, just get back to the point.” Keith lightly pushed his best friend and rolled his eyes. 

“Geez, just admit you forgot. They had rose tea when you told them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And roses are like the flower most commonly associated with love. So you told them to date — something lovey-dovey — when they were having a lovey-dovey tea.”

“You are making a surprising amount of sense.”

“Excuse me! I always make sense.”

“Well, if you’re right, it would be interesting.” Keith ignores his friend.

“You could open a love cafe, Keith! Helping couples get together with rose tea and a couple of nice words! You’d be a legend!”

“Ew, people,” Keith said, sticking out his tongue.

“Okay, but even if we don’t do that, I’m still excited for whatever this holds. We’ve gotta figure it out!”

Honestly, Keith didn’t want to keep making teas for this. Even though he had been forced to take the class, he honestly liked it. It was fun and relaxing and Keith just liked the tea. That’s all he wanted it to be was simple and relaxing fun, but it wasn’t ever that simple. Nothing was ever simple for Keith. But Keith couldn’t help but admit that he was also curious, and he couldn’t admit he was upset, because he got to spend time with him.

And together, they figured out a lot of things. They made lots of different teas, tried lots of different blends, and Keith said a lot of different things. Teas with roses helped with romance, no matter their color. They already knew that from the NadIna incident — as his best friend had dubbed them. Chamomile helped with calming and sleeping, and Keith had often used it to help an acquaintance who often got nervous.

It was one night, when he had brewed tea with forget-me-nots, that it happened. It was only just supposed to be a new tea to try, just for Keith to drink. He ran into one of his friend’s friends, the one with the headband, and he was crying. Keith may not have remembered his name, but he remembered him as a chamomile tea guy. He was friends with Keith’s friend, and Keith couldn’t ignore that. So he invited him to his room, he poured him a cup of tea, and asked him what was going on. It was a love confession gone wrong, and the person broke this guy’s heart.

“He sounds like an asshole. You should just forget him.”

“You’re right.”

Keith had looked up, startled, and saw that he had been drinking the tea as he said it. The smell of forget-me-not had filled the room, and Keith couldn’t tell if he had said something serious. Keith could only watch as the guy stood up and left, as if he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.

When his best friend had asked the headband friend how the confession went, he didn’t even remember who the crush was. Keith visited his best friend’s room that night, and cried into his shoulder and told him what happened. He told him that he gave his friend the forget-me-not tea, that he told him that he should just forget him, and that he had left. He told him that he didn’t even know he had used the voice.

Keith cried into his shoulder and he patted Keith’s head and told him that everything was going to be alright. When Keith stopped crying, he gave Keith this smile that was just filled with caring and sadness, and he asked Keith if he wanted to sleep in his room today.

Keith had a best friend, with blue eyes and brown hair and an unforgettable smile.

Chapter Text

Keith didn’t want to go to the Garrison. It carried too many memories, too many secrets, and too many scars. Keith wishes he could forget so much of it, but he can’t. He’s tried. It never works. But Keith has to be here because of the readings he had been getting. He had to come because something was supposed to happen, so he had raced here on his hoverbike, the one Shiro gave him when he was younger and Shiro hadn’t left for Kerberos. He couldn’t just ignore the thing that had been calling to him because it was at the Garrison.

But Keith was late, because he saw the tent pitched outside and knew that whatever was going to happen must’ve already happened. But Keith wasn’t going to let the Garrison get whatever it was that was calling to him. They had taken too much away from Keith already and they wouldn’t take this. Keith was just lucky that he had packed explosives just in case. 

He ran over to the other back of the tent and set some explosives there, and hid behind a rock near the entrance. He didn’t have the time to be apprehensive, but Keith was good with his explosives. He knew they wouldn’t hurt anyone. They were just loud enough to cause a distraction. So, he hit his button to set them off, and ran towards the door. Something shined off the roof of the Garrison, but Keith didn’t have the time, so he just runs in.

There’s bound to be more people inside, trying to test on whatever is in there, so Keith gets prepared to fight. He stays light on his feet, and he puts his fists up, his thumbs curled on the outside of his fists. Keith’s pose is one that his brother tried to drill into his head over and over, but his brother isn’t the reason he remembers. The door opens, and Keith punches the technician inside. He beats up all three of them, and jumps over one of them to see what's on the table in the middle. He pulls down his bandana to breathe (and because there’s no one to recognize him here), and turns the head of the person on the table.

“Shiro?”

Shiro wasn’t supposed to be here. Keith came here because he thought there were aliens or some type of cryptid calling him, because he thought there would be something that would make sense of his life, and he instead finds his brother. Shiro was supposed to be gone, not here. He’s not supposed to have a white tuft of hair, and he’s not supposed to have a scar on his face. And he’s not supposed to have a metal arm. But Keith doesn’t have the time to ponder these things or think. He can only get past the Garrison’s security and guards for so long, and the ones who were distracted by the explosion will be back any minute. Keith needs to get his brother out of here.

Keith pulls out his silver blade, the one his dad said was from his mom, and easily cuts the orange bond keeping Shiro in place. The Garrison’s material was strong, but Keith learned long ago that his blade was stronger than anything they had. Shiro doesn’t seem like he’s going to be waking up anytime soon, so he can’t help Keith by carrying his own weight. Keith hoists Shiro’s non-metal arm over his shoulder. It reminds him of the way Shiro used to congratulate Keith, how he would put Keith in a headlock and give him a noogie, and say how proud he was of his brother. Keith puts one foot forward to carry him out, and he hears the door hissing open. 

"Nope. No, you—No, no, no, no, no, no, no you don't. I'm saving Shiro." Keith freezes. He would know that voice anywhere. There was no way he could ever forget it. He looks up, hoping it’s not him, and it is. Keith sees the same brown hair, the same blue eyes, and catches himself before he calls them cute. He sees the same green jacket that he knows is too warm for the desert. And Keith sees no gloves on his hands.

“You aren’t wearing gloves today,” Keith had said that day, the sunset making Lance glow.

“Aww, does Keith like the look of my bare hands?”

“It’s just weird.”

“It is not!” Lance turned to grab his bag, and took his gloves out of them. Fingerless gloves, with a hole in the back of them. Keith knows Lance’s dad gave him those gloves not that long ago, when Lance had gone home for the holidays, and he almost never took them off.

“They don’t fit me anymore,” Lance had said. He’d grown taller than Keith then, now that they were teenagers and not just kids.

“That’s rough, buddy.”

They sat there in silence for a beat, and only a beat, before Lance had burst out into laughter. And Keith couldn’t help it, he just laughed along.

“Here.” Lance threw the gloves onto Keith’s lap, when he had wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You can have them.”

“No way, you should keep them,” Keith said, pushing the gloves back over to Lance.

“The gloves don’t even fit me anymore, just take them, Keith.” Lance put it between them.

“Ew, no. They’ve got your cargo pilot germs all over it.” Keith held them between two fingers and pinched his nose. 

“Oh, you know you love these cargo pilot germs,” Lance said, wiggling his eyebrows at Keith before lunging at him. He started tickling him, and Keith burst out laughing. If they weren’t on the roof, Keith would’ve had everyone’s eyes on him from how loud they were. His cheeks had started to hurt.

“But seriously, you’ve been looking for a pair of gloves for a while. My palms finally hit puberty, like the rest of me, so take them. It’ll help with your steering anyway.” Keith didn’t understand why Lance would let go of these, even if Keith wanted gloves like these. Even if he grew out of them, they meant something to him. Unless... Keith meant something more.

“You trying to say my steering is bad, Lance?” Keith said instead, elbowing him in the ribs, getting rid of those thoughts. Lance whispered an ouch.

“Am not! I’m trying to say that I’ll beat you when I get new gloves, so you should take these so you can lose.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming the gloves for your piloting, Tailor? You’re on.” Keith grabbed the gloves, and put them on his hands.

Keith is wearing the gloves right now as he holds Shiro, and Lance is right in front of him. Keith is frozen in place. It’s the one person he didn’t want to see. Lance coming here is the worst luck he could’ve ever had. Keith has never really had good luck though, so he should’ve seen this coming. Lance pushes aside the table that Shiro was on, waggles his finger into Keith’s face, and hoists Shiro’s metal arm onto his shoulder. Keith can’t help but stare. He hopes this is the appropriate amount of staring that a stranger would do, that he isn’t looking at him too long.

"Who are you?” Keith says. He’s been gone from the Garrison for a while now, a little over six months. Lance hasn’t seen him for that long either. Lance would’ve forgotten him by now. He should’ve.

"Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance.” It’s not that Keith doesn’t know, but he’s looking at him with that knowing stare. Lance blinks at him, waiting for some kind of recognition, but Keith can’t give that. He doesn’t even know why Lance is expecting it.

“... We were in the same class at the Garrison?” Lance’s eyebrows tilted up. It’s a habit of his, the hopeful look he gave. As if he wants Keith to remember him. Why would he want Keith to remember him?

“Really? Are you a... engineer?” It’s a lie. Keith knows Lance more than Lance knows he does. Lance is no engineer, just like Keith is no liar. He’s trying his best though, and he’s glad that Lance hasn’t seen through him yet.

“No, I’m a pilot.” Keith just looks into his eyes at that. They were the same blue they always were. They were still Keith’s favorite color, even after all this time. “We were, like, rivals. You know, Lance and Keith, neck-and-neck.”

“Oh wait, I remember you. You’re a cargo pilot.” It’s not a lie, because Lance was a cargo pilot the last time Keith saw him. But Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw got tense. His eyes went from the warmth of the sea to the cold of ice, and Keith knows this is the way it’s meant to be.

“Well, not anymore. I’m fighter class now, thanks to you washing out.” He spits it out like a match lights gasoline. 

“Well, congratulations,” Keith responds. He’s not angry or spiteful that Lance got the position he wanted, because he knew that Lance has wanted this for as long as he could remember. But Keith needs them to get out of here now, so he takes a step forward, and Lance follows. Shiro’s feet drag against the dirt, and the silence between him and Lance drags on too.

Lance’s friends were there too: a tiny child and the big guy with the headband. Keith remembers him too, though he can’t remember his name. He never really could do that. They all get onto his hoverbike, and suddenly he’s got to escape from the Garrison rovers with four extra people on his bike.

He can’t even fully concentrate like he needs to, because Lance of all people is right behind his left shoulder, and Keith can hear every mumbled word under his breath. And he can feel his breath. It’s warm.

Lance had leaned over Keith’s shoulder that day too, and Keith could feel his breath in his ear. Keith had been acting weird about Lance ever since the glove incident, but he tried not to let it show when he was with him. Lance had said he would get new gloves, but Keith hadn’t seen him with them. Keith tried to ignore the weird feeling he got thinking about that. Instead, he had gripped the handlebars of his hoverbike tighter and felt the leather of the gloves keep traction.

Lance usually waved his arm around in the air, loving the thrill of the ride, but that day was different. Lance had his arm tightly wrapped around Keith’s waist, and Keith thought his heart was beating faster than it normally did during this. He couldn’t tell if it was just the adrenaline or if it was Lance, but the truth was that Keith couldn’t calm down because of it. His hands were almost shaking from how hard he was gripping the handlebars and he wasn’t even sure if he could show Lance the drop like this.

“Are you feeling better?” Keith asked.

“A little.” Keith felt the rumble of the words go through his body, with Lance’s head on his shoulder. His hands tightened on the handles.

“Do you still want to do the thing?” Keith had said.

“Not really. Sorry, Keith.”

“It’s okay, Lance. Let’s just head back, okay?”

“Of course.”

Keith turned around and drove all the way back to the Garrison. It didn’t take them too long; he had always been a fast driver, but the silence made it feel like forever. They snuck back in together, to make sure they weren’t caught for going out, and went to Keith’s room.

“Can I have some tea?” Lance said.

"What kind?”

“The blend that you make that I like.”

“Yeah, of course.” Keith pulled out the tea he had made that reminded him of Lance—made with rose and jasmine and black tea and a touch of mint—and poured hot water into Lance's favorite cup, and put the teabag in.

“Thanks.” Lance reached up and grabbed it, setting it down on the table while it steeped and cooled.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Lance nodded, but didn't say anything. Keith knew that he would say something eventually, that he just needed to give Lance the time to come up with the words. So he sat a bit away, giving Lance the space he needed, and waited.

“She turned me down,” Lance said after a couple of minutes.

“Oh.” Keith couldn’t explain why, but it’s like something rose in his chest at that. It bubbled up like a glass of sparkling apple cider, stuck in his heart, and stayed. He moved closer, because he knew Lance didn’t want space anymore.

“Yeah. She didn’t just normally turn me down too. I could get that, it’s just...”

“What did she say?”

“She said I would be too much for her. Said I talk too much, said I talked too loud. She just didn’t understand.”

“She’s a piece of shit.” Keith meant every word of that, because Lance was never be too much. “Can I punch her? I know I punched James two days ago, so Iverson will kill me, but if you say I can, I’ll punch her.”

“Keith,” Lance said, a small chuckle escaping him.

“What? I mean it. I don’t care; I am an equal opportunity puncher. I’ll punch her. Just walk up, maybe in front of the cafeteria, and just bam. Big punch. Right on the jaw. I’ve gotten stronger since the last time you saw me punch!”

“That was only a week ago, how are you already stronger?”

“Maybe if you had power gloves like mine you would understand.”

“I swear, Keith!” Lance had pushed him lightly, exasperated.

“What? Lan—” Keith finally looked over at him and Lance was laughing and he had that smile and Keith felt his heart clench and— 

Oh. Everything finally clicked into place. Keith finally understood. Keith was in love. Keith was in love with Lance. Maybe it’s why Keith’s heart sped up during the hoverbike ride. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t able to imagine not being by his side. Maybe it’s why he kept wearing the gloves, maybe it’s why roses reminded him of Lance. Maybe it’s why his eyes started following Lance in the first place, after Lance helped him with his hands.

How long had Keith been in love with Lance? Maybe he’d been in love with him since the beginning, ever since he sat next to him and entered his life. Or maybe it was when he cried into Lance’s arms about what happened with the headband friend. Or maybe it was just at the start of the glove incident, when he saw Lance under the glow of the sun, when he felt the glove wrap around his head and he felt like it was holding Lance’s hand and he felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Keith didn’t know then, and he still doesn’t know, but he did know that he was in love with Lance. And Keith could still smell the rose in the air, and he remembered the time with the two girls at the cafe and Keith went stiff. Keith didn’t even trust himself.  If he had finished his sentence, what would’ve happened? Would he have used his powers on Lance, would he even be able to tell if he did? It smelled too much like rose for him to tell. And what would he have even said? Would he have asked Lance to always stay, would he have asked Lance to return his feelings?

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Lance says, snapping Keith out of it. He’s supposed to be driving this hoverbike, not remembering the days when they used to do this with just them. But it’s not just them, there are five people on this bike. Keith’s hoverbike isn’t meant for five people, and it certainly wasn’t meant to be fast with five people. And he just needed to get Shiro to the shack, so he can get this whole excursion over with.

“We could toss out some non-essential weight.” He’s having to speak up so they can hear him over the roar of the engine and the wind as it speeds by them. Quite honestly, Keith doesn’t need the two extras that tagged along without even caring about Shiro, so he doesn’t care to cover up the bitterness in his voice.

“Oh, right!” Lance is silent, but not for long. “Okay, so that was an insult. I get it.”

Keith didn’t mean for it to be an insult to Lance. It still hurts to see him sad, it’s the last thing he wants. But he doesn’t have the time to correct himself, because he needs to get these rovers off his trail, so he directs the headband friend to lean so they can turn sharply, and the rovers crash into each other behind them. There’s only one left, and Keith knows The Garrison would never attempt this, just like he didn’t attempt it when he was younger. So it’ll be zero.

“Guys? Is that a cliff up ahead?” The headband guy says, stuttering. Keith thinks he hasn’t changed one bit since he knew him.

Lance screams into Keith’s left ear. “Ooooh no, no, no! No, no, no, no—!"

Keith is grateful his ears are used to the noise, but no amount of noise Lance made was going to make him stop. Besides, Lance is finally going to see the drop he tried to show him before. He just leans forward and smirks. “Yup.”

It’s not like Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s the safest way for them to get away, and it’s also the only way to get to his shack. They have to go this way. Sure, he’s never done it with this many people, but it makes him want to do it even more. He wants to prove that he’s still good, prove that he’s still got it, prove that he’s got everyone’s hearts in his hand right now. His heartbeat is drumming in his ears. All the other noises drown out. It’s only him, the wind, and his heart as he slams the gas and revs the engine towards that cliff. And he’s finally weightless for that split second, his heart frozen in the air, and then they fall.

“What are you doing?” Keith looks back, unable to help himself, only to see Lance hanging onto the wing like his life depends on it. Keith has to turn back around as fast as possible to hide his laughter. “You’re going to kill us all!”

“Shut up and trust me,” Keith says after composing himself. He just needs to wait until the perfect moment. He knows this nosedive is dangerous, but it’s all about pulling up at just the right moment, and they’re almost there.

Keith pulls up, and the bike perfectly aligns the engines to push off the ground, putting them parallel without crashes or bumps, and he races back towards his shed. He learns the names of the tiny child and the headband guy—Pidge and Hunk respectively—during the ride. It’s still dark when they all arrive at Keith’s place, the shack where his father used to live. When they ask, Keith will just tell them that he just found this place. It’s better than explaining.

Shiro is still unconscious as well. Keith checks his pulse. He’s still alive. Good. Keith directs Lance to where his bedroom is, and they put Shiro on the bed. Lance leaves, and Keith makes sure Shiro is in a comfortable position. He can’t let his brother wake up uncomfortable.

Keith goes to pile the blankets on top of Shiro, and his eyes can’t help but lock on Shiro’s arm. He knew something was wrong with Shiro’s arm before he went to Kerberos, but this was something else. A whole new arm, made of metal. Keith had always figured there was something out there, but he never expected this.

But Keith just puts the blankets on, because the heater doesn’t work and he can’t let him get cold. And Shiro doesn’t have any clothes, so Keith pulls out some of his dad’s old clothes. They’ll probably fit him. He hangs them on the door, and closes it. He walks back out to the living room.

“Do you have anything to drink? I am parched, lemme tell you. Rescuing someone and screaming from a mullet man trying to kill you really hurts the throat.” Lance comes out from the bathroom, and he plops himself onto the couch. He stretches his arms over the back, just like he always did.

Keith leans on the wall, crossing his arms. It’s his own habit, one that often comes out when he feels awkward, and this is one of the most awkward situations he’s been in.

“Only water,” Keith replies. He lives out in the desert, and Lance expects him to have things like juice or soda? His sweet tooth hasn’t changed either.

“Okay, but what about things that flavor water? You have any of those droplet things you put in water? Instant coffee? Teabags? I’m partial to floral and herbal teas so if you have any, you should share.” Lance wiggles his eyebrows as he says that, and Keith finds himself trying to suppress a laugh. Keith doesn’t really know what to do. Keith does have tea—he even has Lance’s favorite blend still—but he really shouldn’t give it to Lance. He doesn’t want to make a mistake.

“No, I do not have any tea. Or anything like that.” It’s better this way.

“He’s lying; there’s homemade tea bags in the cabinet. Top shelf,” Pidge says, exiting the kitchen. Keith has never wanted to punch a child more. He’s not going to punch a child. He’s calmer out of the Garrison, since he doesn’t have James here to piss him off, and Keith is proud of that. He’s not going to let this glasses gremlin ruin that.

“We saw them when we were raiding your cabinets for food. Sorry to give you away, Keith.” Hunk passes by with a huge pile of snacks in his arms. He even took the honey butter chips that Keith had piled up, and his Fig Newtons. Not only did they give him away, but they took his favorite snacks.

“Also we claimed the floor right near the vent, so Lance can sleep on the couch.” The tiny evil green demon walks into Keith’s bedroom, and closes the door softly. There’s still extra blankets in there, so they shouldn’t bother Shiro by stealing his, but Keith thinks that they won’t think of having too many blankets.

“Dammit, no more warm air for me,” Lance sighs, slumping further into the couch.

“Heater’s broken anyway. They’ll probably freeze if they get cocky and don’t get blankets.” Serves them right for what they did. But Keith’s feet hurt, so he moves to sit on the couch. There’s enough space there that he isn’t too close to Lance anyways.

“Really? You’re not just lying to make me feel better?” Keith doesn’t even have a reason to lie to him.

“You wanna go look at the number of blankets I buried Shiro in?”

“No, I’m good. I’m just gonna take your word for it. However, I do still want that tea, so...”

Lance gets up and scoots by Keith on the couch, and Keith thinks he gets a little too close because he can feel Lance’s knees as they brush against his and Keith sat far away on purpose. Keith can only sit there and watch through the doorway into the kitchen as Lance turns on the hot water kettle. He watches as Lance reaches up to the cabinet, and picks out a teabag. Lance turns around and Keith can see it in his hand: the blend he made for Lance.

It’s his favorite tea even if he doesn’t know it. Keith watches as Lance grabs a cup, and he already can guess which mug he’ll grab. It’s the one with the waves, the one Shiro brought back for Keith after visiting his family. Lance always loved the waves, wished they could sneak out to the beach. But it was too far from the Garrison, and they could never go. But that doesn’t matter because Keith is right, and Lance grabbed the cup with the waves, and put the teabag in it.

“Why’d you lie about the tea?” Lance says, leaning against the counter.

“Didn't want you to use my personal collection.”

“I can see why. It looks like they were handmade. You make ‘em?”

“Yeah. Garrison taught me.” Lance doesn’t need to know that these are the same bags that he made when he was at the Garrison, that Keith can’t bring himself to drink the blend that Lance has in his cup right now.

“Well, at least I know it’s gonna be good. They do a good job with that course. Ya know, funny story. I have friends that fell in love over a cup of tea there. They were just at the cafe and bam— they left dating.”

“Sounds cute.”

“Isn’t it?”

Keith doesn’t need to tell Lance that he’s the reason they started dating, Keith doesn’t need to tell Lance that he served them that rose tea that day. He doesn’t. Keith just stares as the hot water kettle clicks and Lance pours the water into that mug. Keith watches as Lance sits on the floor, his back leaning on the loveseat. Why he doesn’t sit on the loveseat, Keith doesn’t even know. 

But Lance is sitting there, holding his mug with two hands, the way he does when he’s nervous. Keith hates this. Keith hates pretending that they’re strangers, hates pretending that he doesn’t know Lance. Hates pretending that he’s still not in love with Lance, because he is. Keith is still utterly in love with Lance, with his little habits and the way he smiles, with the way he laughs. He’s in love with everything about him.

Lance is heroic. He was going to try and save Shiro even if Keith didn’t show up. Lance is smart, and funny, and sweet, and he’s not afraid of him. He approached Keith even though Keith had just punched someone. He stayed with Keith even after they learned about his powers. He wasn’t afraid to tease Keith or get into competitions or train with him. Keith just stares, and knows he’s still utterly gone for him.

“Where are you gonna sleep, Keith?” Keith didn’t really think this through when he put Shiro on the bed, but he’s not going to annoy his brother when he just came back from space. Lance has the couch so there’s only one place left.

“The loveseat behind you,” Keith says. He can’t even look Lance in the eyes right now. If he does, he’s going to say something he doesn’t want to.

“It’s pretty small, are you gonna fit?”

“I’ll fit. It’s fine.”

Keith knows Lance is just trying to make conversation, that he’s trying to be nice and considerate to this person he just met, but Keith can’t handle it. He crosses his arms, and looks over to Lance. He watches the steam rise from Lance’s cup, smells the roses from the tea in the air, and locks eyes with Lance, and knows. 

Keith knows that this love is hopeless. He knew it was hopeless even before he had gotten kicked out of the Garrison. He knew this ‘being in love with Lance’ thing was never going to end. His pining was never going to cease. It had been years and he still felt like this, still didn’t say anything. Keith was always going to be by Lance’s side, exactly like this. Just as a friend.

Back then, Keith was scared, because Lance’s favorite tea had roses, and every time Lance drank it, Keith wondered if he’d say something wrong. Keith was afraid of using his power on him, of making him fall into love with Keith without control. He didn’t want to manipulate Lance. He was afraid of hurting him. But when Keith had punched James for the second time in a month, he realized that he might just hurt Lance anyway.

Keith was going to be expelled by the end of the month. Keith was going to go back to being alone. Considering the number of people in this school who have punched James, Keith thought they would’ve expelled him instead, but they didn’t care. He knew that they didn’t care, because they didn’t try to do anything for Shiro, and they didn’t care when James said Shiro killed the Holts with his bad piloting. The Garrison wanted people they could control, and with one of the people who could help calm Keith gone, he was a risk to them.

And then Lance kissed him on the roof for the first time. It was two days before Keith had to leave, and Keith never told him that he was expelled, and Lance kissed him. Keith hurt Lance before he left, because he ran, leaving Lance behind on that roof alone.

Keith wasn’t sure why Lance kissed him. Was it because Lance knew that Keith was in love with him? Did Lance kiss him out of pity, to play with Keith’s feelings? Did Lance figure out that he got expelled, and wanted to give Keith a good final memory before he left? Or was it a dare, a joke?

Keith knew Lance wouldn’t do that, but there was still a seed of doubt. And he didn’t bother to ask. He avoided Lance until it was Keith’s last night at the Garrison, and he knocked on his door. He had practiced what he would do a thousand times, planned this out for the first time, and Keith was scared. But he had already visited Hunk, and there was no time to turn back. Lance had opened the door, and he smiled like Keith had done nothing wrong, and he welcomed Keith into his dorm room like he always did, and Keith’s heart raced faster than his hoverbike could go.

Keith had put his bag on the counter and brewed a pot of forget-me-not tea. He pulled his own tumbler out of the bag, and then Lance’s favorite cup out of his bag. He ran his fingers over the ceramic ridges and blue speckles in the glaze. Lance always used this cup when he drank tea at Keith’s dorm, had claimed it as his own. Keith poured the tea into the cups, and with his heart beating in his ears, had brought it over to the coffee table Lance pulled up.

Lance was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed, and Keith put Lance’s cup in front of him, and sat down with his own in hand. Lance held the cup with both his hands, letting the steam of the tea rise. Keith put a lid on his tea; he couldn’t have himself smelling the tea because he needed to make sure this worked. And then he had sat, waiting. He only took deep breaths, his heart trilling in his fingertips. Lance finally brought the drink up to his lips, and Keith spoke, the smell of forget-me-nots on his lips.

“You will not forget me, but you will forget that you knew me. Remember my name, remember my face, but do not remember that we were friends. Do not remember the feeling of your lips on mine, do not remember the feeling of my hand in yours. Remember me as just a classmate, as an acquaintance. Not as your love. Goodbye, Lance.”

Keith grabbed the cup from Lance’s hands, watched as Lance fell asleep, and didn’t turn back. He didn’t give himself time to regret—he deleted his contact from Lance’s phone—and he didn't let himself think of anything except to go, because if he did let himself think, he would’ve gone running back to Lance like he wanted to. Keith knows if he had stayed, if he had told Lance he was expelled, it would’ve hurt him more. It was better Keith just ripped it off like a BandAid then. It’s better that Lance just forgot.

Keith kept telling himself that as he grabbed his tumbler and the tea, grabbed the kettle, leaving Lance’s cup, and went back to his room. Keith kept telling himself that as he cleaned his room, grabbed his hoverbike, and fled to that shack he used to live in.

“If you don’t want me here, I can sleep outside instead,” Lance says, and the Lance of the past fades away.

“What?” Keith’s not even sure how long he’s been staring at Lance, and suddenly Lance thinks he doesn’t want him there? Sure, it’s awkward, but Keith doesn’t think that at all.

“I get that I intruded on your Shiro rescue mission, okay? You don’t need to glare at me like that.” Lance’s eyes are downcast. Keith made him look like that. He doesn’t want Lance to look like that, doesn’t want those eyes to look like a stormy sea.

“I’m glaring?”

“Yes, you are,” Lance snaps. Keith didn’t know he was glaring, and he’s already made Lance mad.

“‘M sorry, you’re not bothering me, so—”

“Then why have you been so mean to me? You called me ‘non-essential weight’ on the hoverbike, you lied about the tea, and you’ve been snippy this whole time. Don't even get me started on the glaring.” Lance’s voice raises. Keith didn’t mean to do any of those things. He didn’t mean any of that. His eyes are stinging and his heart is beating irregularly, but he has to make sure Lance knows that.

“I didn’t mean it.” Keith’s voice catches, his breath catches, and his voice raises. “I—”

“So what did you mean, huh? What do you mean by this? Because to me, it just looks like you’re being mean for no reason.”

“I’m not mad, Lance, please stop.” Keith’s voice cracks as he says it, his eyes watering up. Keith can only take deep breaths. Keith can only smell roses in the air.

“No.” Lance briefly takes a sip of his tea, as if his voice was sore from this. “You didn’t even know who I was until I mentioned it. We were in the same class for years, Keith, and then when you learn I exist, you start acting mean? I didn’t even do anything to you. What’s your problem?” Keith can see Lance is angry, his eyebrows so pursed that they’re almost one, and his lips are trembling. Keith didn’t mean to be mean, he didn’t even try to act mean, he didn’t mean for any of this. It’s not any of this at all, it’s not.

“It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” Lance interrupts. Keith is sure everyone can hear them by this point. Keith can hear his heart in his ears beating. “It’s not what you meant, it’s not what I think? Bullshit, Keith. What do you want from me?”

Keith’s tears are streaming into the creases of his mouth. “I don’t—”

“What?!” Lance yells, the word echoing throughout the room. Keith’s face is red, his ears are probably burning. Keith can barely breathe. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t even think.

“I love you!” It’s the truth, and Keith screams it as if it’s his lifeline. He tastes salt in his mouth from his tears, feels them dripping down his neck. “And I want you to love me back, ” Keith says, his voice cracking.

The air is heavy, and it feels like what he said is seeping into the wood, ingraining itself into the walls. Keith doesn’t know what he just did, but all he can smell are roses and all he can taste is his tears.

“I love you, Keith.”