And They Were Boyfriends

lxiewrites:

Happy late birthday to @ciuucalata!!! I really hope you like it, it’s a 5+1 fic! And thank you to @sweetpopcornkat for collaborating with me on this fic! Kat went and did SIX SCENE ILLUSTRATIONS for each of the scenes in this fic go check out her blog!!!

Lance was running late. Again.

It’s not his fault that the only time they offer his required class is eight fucking thirty in the morning.

Iverson was a hard ass too. Absolutely no coming in late. If you came in late you were shit out of luck ‘cuz he locked his door as soon as that minute hand hit the six.

He frantically patted his pockets, his head whipping around to look for his missing wallet. “Fuck! I forgot—where’d I put—“

He dove for the couch to fling the cushions to the side to see if his wallet had fallen down into the interdimensional void that was in every couch and sofa. He groaned when he only found loose change and a few pen caps. Scooping up the change and depositing them on the coffee table.

He placed his hands on his hips and glared at the room around him as if it would materialize out of thin air if he was stern enough.

Off to the side at the kitchen bar, there was a snicker.

He glared at Keith who was sleepily eating his cereal and being no help whatsoever. Just watched as he ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. He didn’t have class until noon. The bastard.

“Are you just going to sit there or are you going to help me?”

Keith shrugged, shoving another spoonful of cheerios into his mouth, chewing slowly. “This is more fun,” he said with his mouth full like a heathen.

He rolled his eyes and began looking through his pockets, spare receipts and lint falling onto their wood floor. “And you’re a jerk.” He lifted up various objects of his, his backpack, his textbooks, his laptop, his winter jacket– he paused to lift up his heavy duty winter jacket. “How is it that I found my winter jacket but not my wallet?!”

“That sounds like a you problem. You do this every morning.”  Keith hopped off the barstool and set his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed in disappointment, he said, “You have to put your shit back where it belongs.”

God, he sounded like his mother instead of his roommate. Put things back in one place, organize your skin products, do your laundry it’s growing feet. He had a system and it works for him. His laundry had a complicated system of what was actually dirty, worn once or twice, or needed pre-treatment. It was a system. His skin products strategically placed for chronological use and as for putting things in one place–!

…

He had a shit memory.

Wherever he last placed his wallet was not the same place he remembered last having it.

At this rate, he might just have to risk driving without a license to get to class on time.

He threw up his hands and grabbed his hoodie from a chair and keys from the little bowl next to the front door, ready to sprint down the stairwell.

He paused when Keith whistled, turning and catching the blur chucked at his face.

“My wallet!” he exclaimed, shoving it in his coat pocket. He looked up at Keith to see an amused smile playing across his face. “Aw, shit, Keith, buddy, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Keith shrugged, the teasing smile still there. “Die I guess.”

‘Fair,’ he thought, taking the steps two at a time to get to his car faster. He probably would die without Keith.

~

Keith drummed his fingers against the counter as he waited for that one guy in the back of the library to pick his damn book before he went to go buy lunch. Keith sent him back to the medieval western history section twenty minutes ago. He should have found the text he was looking for already.

He sighed, eyes flicking to the empty corners of the library. No one came in at noon. Let alone need him but it was his job. It’s surprising how many people didn’t know how to use the library. Even when he tells them where it is to the last decimal point they always come back because they can’t find it.

Not even bothering to hide his boredom he checked his watch. He still had a few minutes until he’s relieved of duty but there wasn’t a sign from Romelle yet.

He flopped his head on the desk, bored and hungry.

“Hey, Keith!”

His head snapped up. He winced when the action pinched a nerve in his neck. He rubbed the area with his fingers. “Lance?”

“No, mothman,” he quipped, stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his green hoodie. The one with a logo on the front that is some sort of brand but really only looks like a large mustard stain. “Of course it’s me, mullethead, here’s lunch.” Two containers of tupperware were dropped in front of him. Even with the lids tightly secured he could smell the heavenly contents.

His stomach rumbled. He leaned down to pick it up to look at it closer, the foggy plastic making it hard to see but all he needed to know it was meat.

He sucked in a sharp breath when it pulled the thing in his neck. He transferred the food to one hand to keep massaging his neck with the other. “What’s this for?”

Lance’s blue eyes darted around his figure, taking in everything. “I noticed you forgot to make yourself lunch.” He didn’t miss a beat when he reached across the desk to take over his job in kneading the pinched nerve. The movement smooth and natural like it didn’t make Keith’s heart almost jump out of his chest. “I made lunch and had extra so I decided to drop by and give it to you.”

Keith could feel his face warm. “Thank you,” he murmured, opening the biggest container.

He inhaled the smell of spiced beef and took a bite before anyone told him not to. Technically there was not eating in the library but his supervisor isn’t there and he was almost gone anyway. He replaced the cover of the container and stretched his head to the side to expose more of his neck for Lance’s touch.

Lance’s fingers dug in deep but gently. Kneading apart the tense muscle to make it relax under firm pressure. It was probably being hunched over so often. He really needed to work on his posture.

Keith hummed a little in the back of his throat. “That feels nice.” He straightened his head, rolling his neck and shaking his shoulders loose. “Thanks.”

Lance cleared his throat, a soft blush giving his cheeks color. “No problem.”

His blue eyes flickered to the door. “Well, Romelle is here and I need to get to my next class.” Hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket he stepped back, smile close-lipped but still reached his eyes. “See you at home?”

Keith nodded, fingers rubbing over the edges of the tupperware, heart beating harder in his chest. “See you at home.”

Lance slipped out the door with a distant shout of goodbye to Romelle.

She spun on her heel in a circle, watching Lance leave before landing back on the ground walking towards him, a smirk on her face. She strode right over to him, not saying anything as she looked pointedly at him, the direction Lance went, the food, and back to him again.

He glared at her, sliding his food towards him, shielding it protectively from her gaze. He skirted around the side to escape, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Don’t say anything.”

She only laughed, disturbing the peace of the quiet library as he fled.

~

Lance casually munched on the corn dog he got from the vendor, careful of the condiments on it so it didn’t smear across his face when jostled by the crowd. He lifted his traditional Food on a StickTM higher when a group of kids ran past him giggling.

The Fall Festival was always fun. It was the cute annual celebration thing this college town did, some events raised money for various charities but it was mostly just another thing to look forward to in Fall. All the fair foods like elephant ears, corn dogs, and various foods on a stick. Quite a few rides that were pretty impressive for just being set up in the park. Even a ferris wheel which was his favorite.

As much as he loved the Fall Festival he knew that Keith didn’t care for it. Too loud, too many people, screaming children, and the food and drinks were overpriced. Only the few complaints he’s heard over the three years he knew the guy.

Which was why Lance was so surprised when Keith insists on going with him, even more so when he suggested it himself this year. Even going as far as to agree to one of those cheesy pictures where you stick your head into a cutout (the tried and true Altea Lions as always). He would’ve have been just as happy to watch Love, Simon on a sketchy streaming site for the umpteenth time, but here he was looking through the crowd to find a familiar mop of black hair while eating a corndog.

He finished off his overpriced, fried, questionable meat and threw his stick in a nearby trash bin.

“Where did he go,” he muttered to himself, pulling on the strings of the hoodie of his beloved cargo jacket. It wasn’t as thick as his winter jacket but it was perfect for the slight chill of fall. Keith was wearing some sort of motorcycle jacket like he was all cool and attractive. Last time he saw him and his stupid jacket he was headed toward some sort of shooting game.

He debated whether or not to stay still or wander to find him, but the crowd didn’t give him much of a choice. Soon enough he found himself in the open space before the ferris wheel.

He looked up at the ride, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. Why was it that ferris wheels seemed to be the epitome of romance in movies? The Notebook, Love, Simon, that one movie with Mandy Moore and that old couple…

His hand flexed, aching to hold something.

A hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him out of his musings. “There you are,” a familiar voice said behind him. “I was looking for you.”

Lance turned around, smiling in triumph when he saw Keith behind him. “I was looking for you! Where were ya? Got kidnapped by the Bad hair Brigade?”

Keith only gave him a deadpan stare, eyes squinting in a glare. “I thought you were right behind me.”

“Wow, Mullet, didn’t even notice I was gone.”

Keith huffed out a breath. “I did notice. I turned around and you weren’t there!” He shook his head, his bangs falling across his face. “Whatever. Here, so I don’t lose you.”

Lance stared at the hand offered to him. Palm up and fingers curled slightly.

His eyes flickered back up to Keith who was looking at him intently, the lights of the ferris wheel reflecting off of his indigo eyes making them glow. The soft, yellow light softened his face beckoning Lance to reach out and brush his fingers over his skin. Keith’s lips were pursed in an impatient line, pink dusting his cheeks.

“It’s not rocket science, just take my hand.”

Lance blinked. He pasted on a smile and firmly grasped Keith’s hand. He squeezed the hand in his, forcing his heartbeat to slow down. “Damn, Keith this is romantic as fuck.”

Keith didn’t look at him, choosing to march towards the ferris wheel, dragging him behind in a firm hold. “Just don’t let go. I don’t want to go and look for you again.”

Lance’s blood pounded in his veins. His heart that was insistently forcing itself into his limbs, cheeks, ears, everything, telling him to give a tug, pull him towards him and kiss him. His head telling him all the ways and reasons why that would be a bad idea.

He cleared his throat, cheeks still softly thrumming with the blood from his heart. “Taaaake myyyy haaaanndd~”

“Jesus.”

~

Keith cast a cursory glance out his bedroom window. The fat flakes of snow drifting to the ground lazily. Lance would say it’s the best kind of snow. The kind that was heavy and clumped together well for snowballs and snowmen. Completely ignoring the fact that they had to drive through it.

Still, he smiled.

This kind of snow wasn’t that bad. Especially when it lead to a snow day where you can spend the rest of the time indoors safe and warm with a cup of hot chocolate and with your favorite book on the couch, leaning back against–

He shook his head, making the daydream in his head dissipate. He started packing up his backpack, he needed to get to class. Backpack slung over his shoulder he stopped by the pantry to grab a granola bar before leaving.

Lance was sitting on the floor, trapped between their shitty couch and their beat-up coffee table, typing something on his laptop that was resting on the top of his knee.

Lance’s brows were furrowed in concentration, a little pout on his lips as he wrote his paper. This focused side of Lance rarely came out unless what he was doing was important and Keith couldn’t help but wish he was the receiver of that attention. A soft warmth a little stronger than just affection filled his chest. “Bye, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes flicked to him briefly, giving him a smile before going back to type away on his laptop. “Okay, see you later.”

Keith closed and locked the door behind him. He made it all the way down the first flight of stairs before he heard hurried steps behind him.

Keith paused, stepping to the side as Lance jumped the last four steps of the stairs. “Yo, Keith,” he panted, chest heaving, “you forgot your jacket.”

Keith looked down at his red jacket. “I got one, though?”

Lance looked at him like he was insulted. “A real one Jesus fucking Christ. It’s snowing out and you are wearing a half jacket. Wear this.”

He shoved a warm cargo jacket at him. The olive green a harsh, thick material designed to stand against the wind but the inside was an insulated, soft hoodie material. Keith ran his fingers along the soft inside of the hoodie, still holding traces of Lance’s warmth from where he held it.

“Don’t argue with me, desert boy, you’re unequipped for winter. We’ll have to go shopping soon for your own jacket but this should be fine for now.”

Keith threw his free hand up in the air. “You’re from Cuba! T- tropic boy!”

Lance laughed at Keith sad excuse of a comeback. “Yeah, but I grew up in New York, desert boy.” He started his way back up the stairs, pausing at the front, one foot on the top step and one on the step just beneath it. He twisted the upper half of his body to look down at him. At this angle, Keith could see how his long lashes swept over his cheekbones. “Just put it on, I don’t want that cute butt to be freezing later!”

Keith’s face flared. He spluttered, floundering, unable to say words as Lance disappeared from the stairwell.

After a moment or two, he grumbled at how stupid Lance was and how his stupid comments were stupid too with his stupid face and stupid eyes and stupid lips. He shoved his own jacket into his backpack and slipped Lance’s on, instantly feeling warmer.

He took a minute to pause, eyes darting around to make sure there were no witnesses, before gathering the front of Lance’s jacket to bury his face in the soft fabric. He inhaled the faint smell of detergent and cologne. He snuggled his face in deeper, taking a bigger whiff of eau du Lance.

Satisfied, he dropped the jacket, swung his backpack on, and took a nice, warm, long stroll to his class, admiring the snow as it fell around him.

~

Keith looked at Lance in confusion. The words he was saying unable to compute. Separately they make sense, together….

“Our…..anniversary?”

“Yeah! Our roommate anniversary!”

They have those? “Our… roommate anniversary…”

“Is there an echo here? Yes, c’mon, we’re celebrating.”

Despite the questions swirling around his head, things like: is there a thing as anniversaries for roommates? Is this an actual thing or is it a Lance thing? Did they celebrate an anniversary last year? They’ve been roommates for three years, did he just forget they celebrated then? Is he cold? Because despite giving Keith his jacket and it being one of the warmer days of winter there still was snow on the ground and he was only in a T-shirt and jeans.  He had fun going around and celebrating with Lance. He had an entire day blocked out with things they would enjoy to celebrate.

They went to the movies, out to eat–Lance refused to let him pay but he’ll get him later, maybe he can come up with a bullshit holiday and do it then, and were finishing up with a demonstration of the new observatory hosted by the school’s astronomy program.

They were walking back to the car side by side. The stars were winking at them from a velvet black sky and there was a chill in the air. Lance gave him his hoodie earlier when he seen him shiver. Keith was tried to protest but it was already wrestled over his head. Unlike him, Lance, seemed completely unaffected by the cold air as he strolled next to Keith.

He had a strange urge to hold his hand again. To thaw cold fingers and tuck himself into his side to provide some warmth. There was no one left on campus, save for the few people walking home for the library. He couldn’t exactly use the non-existent crowd as an excuse to hold hands.

“It was a fun day today.”

“Really?” Lance turned to him, eyes lit up in glee. A beaming smile spread across his face. Keith nodded. Lance’s smile grew even bigger before he tried to smother it. “I’m glad, I was really hoping you would.” He faced forward again, a proud little smile he couldn’t subdue on his face.

Keith bit his lip, eyes on the ground ahead of him to keep them off of Lance’s hands. Or face. He took a deep breath, exhaling harshly before speaking.

“It was a lot of fun. It seemed like–” like a date “–like you put a lot of thought into it.”

“Yeah, uh,” Lance swallowed, voice sounding a little thick. “Yeah, I did.”

Keith pulled the sleeves of Lance’s jacket down his arms, tightening it around his body and scooting closer to make more room for the small group of people passing them on the sidewalk. He moved back once they passed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think of our, uh, roommate anniversary.”

“No, no! It’s fine, it was just something fun I thought we could do. Because we’ve known each other for, like, a really long time and we’ve gotten pretty close…” Lance’s face flushed, pink coloring his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s, like, our fourth year of living together, I thought it would be fun to celebrate it.”

Lance bumped shoulders with him, a cheeky grin on his face. “We moved past our awkward stage. We’ve accomplished the ‘old married couple’ achievement.”

Keith laughed, face warm despite the cold, night air. “I think we need a few more years to get that achievement.”

“Oh? How many?” Lance asked wiggling his brows.

Keith ‘ppfftt’ out a laugh. “I don’t know, until we are and old married couple? Anything less than eighty years is disrespectful.”

Lance chuckled. A small ‘oh’ sound escaping when he grabbed Keith’s hand and guided him around a person heading headlong into him, too focused on their phone to pay attention. They passed them but neither of them let go.

Lance squeezed his hand, an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. “Then I guess we are in this for the long haul.”

Keith squeezed back. “I guess we are.”

~

“So, when is Hunk and Pidge meeting us?” Keith asked sitting on the bench. Lance’s jacket still firmly around his shoulders, staving off the chill. Miraculously, the bench for the meetup was  clear of any snow, even if the thin layer of frost on the bench made their butts wet.

Lance, personally, had cold immunity, despite being born on a tropical island. He seen worse than a t-shirt and shorts in winter. Keith wasn’t used to it though. And Lance would lie if he didn’t say he didn’t get some sort of pleasure from seeing Keith wrapped up in his jacket

His heart knocked against his ribcage as Keith rubbed the fabric of his jacket between the pads of his fingers. Surely, he was appreciating feeling the warmth trapped between the dense fibers. He pulled it closer around him before settling his hands on either side of him.

God, he was so cute.

Something inside of him fluttered happily whenever he sees Keith wearing his jacket. He was sure it was some sort of caveman brain pounding on his chest, grunting, at the thought of “providing” for him. It’s ridiculous, Keith could very well get his own jacket.

But still.

It was like Keith wanted to keep him close.

Lance sat down next to him, right hand resting on the bench while he checked the time on his watch. “They should be here any minute.” He set his hand down. “If they’re late then they’re paying for Sunday Waffles.”

Keith huffed, lips still quirking in amusement. “I think I’d still want waffles sooner than later.”

Lance hummed. “True.” A passing thought flickered through his mind. He sucked in a breath and his heart picked up in his chest, the butterflies started to wake up in his stomach again. He peeked at Keith from the corner of his eye. He was leaning back, the picture of contentment, as he watched the clouds go by.

He thought he was done with the butterflies and the sweaty palms but they were still there. He essentially took Keith out on a romantic af date last night, they held hands, and essentially got engaged. And the thought of paying for his waffles got him blushing like a middle schooler talking to Harry Styles?

Play it cool McClain. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.

He leaned against the bench, the cold backing making him tense before it slowly warmed. Slowly, he inched his hand closer to Keith’s. “Y’know… we could text them and meet them there? I could still buy your waffles if you want. I am your boyfriend. It’s my job to provide you with food right?” He leaned over and gently bumped Keith’s shoulder with his. “You can get those specialty seasonal waffles you like.”

His fingers finally slid over Keith’s. Lance could feel his face heat up, still somehow embarrassed despite the events of last night. Logically, he knew that there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. It felt like a natural step in their relationship. Like, this was meant to be. That this how it was always how it was going to end up even before they themselves knew.

But did Keith think that?

The small voice in the back of his mind, groaning and slapping its face, telling him that they were, basically, already dating was ignored as the butterflies took flight up towards his chest. Lance couldn’t look at Keith. He didn’t want to see how his pink lips were ticked up in a confused but amused smile. How his eyes were surely crescent moons of humor at his expense. Because, duh, they’re just super good friends, right?  No, no, no, no. He was being stupid.

He chuckled, hand going up to run through the hair at the back of his head self-consciously. Sighing at himself he turned to face Keith.

Only to be faced with the cutest fucking thing ever.

Keith had his eyes trained on his knees, face red as a tomato. His bangs brushed his flushing cheeks, his eye too wide with some sort of emotion to hide under his hair. He swallowed, throat bobbing with the motion as Keith’s big, galaxy eyes turned to look at him. Something almost shy with how he met his gaze.

Lance slid his hand more firmly over Keith’s. Keith’s turning over to intertwine their fingers.

“You know my favorite waffles.”

That surprised a laugh out of Lance. “Of course I do. I know a lot of things about you.”

A gentle smile tugged at Keith’s lips. Something happy and maybe a bit self-satisfied. “Me too. Knowing stuff about you I mean,” he finished in a rush.

Lance smiled, warmth blooming in his chest. “I know.”

Keith faced forward again, letting himself to rest against Lance, face still flushed a pretty pink.

Giving into temptation Lance swooped in to peck a kiss against that blushing cheek.

“Awwww!” A voice chirped. “Look at the lovebirds, Hunk!”

Pidge spun to face Hunk, eyes comically big and hands forming a sarcastic heart.

“Ohohoho,” Hunk laughed, waggling his brows and turning to Pidge. His hands coming up to daintily press against his cheeks. “Oh, Keeiiith,” he said in a falsetto that didn’t sound like Lance at all. “I love you sooooooomuuuch.”

Pidge’s voice dropped, moving forward to hold one of Hunk’s hands and the other to reach up to barely graze his chin with her fingertips. “My love, I love you too. You know my favorite waffles.”

Lance, face aflame, groaned and got up. Still holding hands with Keith he reached out at them and gently kicked them to end the bit they were doing. “Come on, shut up. Yes, we’re dating you don’t have to make fun of us. You owe us waffles for being late, assholes.”

Pidge cackled, hands on her stomach as she laughed to the sky. “I thought you were going to buy your boyfriend waffles.”

Keith stood next to Lance, face just as red. “How long were you listening to us you dicks.”

Hunk hmm’ed. “I would say a good ten minutes. We would’ve came sooner but we seen you guys holding hands and we wanted to make sure it was what we thought it was.”

“You guys are the worst, “ Keith and Lance chorused.

PIdge turned to Hunk, eyes wide, whispering, “it’s starting.”

Lance charged foward, dragging Keith behind him to boop Pidge in the butt with his foot. “Get going, you owe us seasonal waffles for being a jerk.”

She snickered, finally moving to the restaurant. “Worth it.”