Locker Neighbors (Klance)

9

The rapping on the door was horrifying. Keith was sure Lance looked wonderful, and he was right.

Lance had a black suit as well, although it was accompanied by a blue tie. His eyes shined in a way that would put the stars to shame, the soft blue tint resembling oceans that Keith would love to drown in. His hair was brushed out, and even without being done-up specially, it looked less like a brown mop; it had been parted on the side and brushed back. Lance's freckles were like constellations in the night sky, and Keith would have loved to map them out meticulously. In his tan hands, Lance held a small bouquet of lavender roses.

"You look.. amazing..." Mumbled Lance, as he covered his rosy cheeks with the flowers.

"Th-thanks... you do too." Keith took a sudden interest in the old floorboards, even if he did have the same ones since he moved into the studio. Pidge sat on his bed, seemingly engulfed in the awkward tension in the air as she watched the boys.

Lance handed Keith the small bouquet, his eyes flickering around the room. After the flowers had been moved into a pitcher (Keith didn't own a single vase,) Pidge insisted on taking photos, claiming that "Keith was going to his first dance in nine years," which was a momentous occasion in her eyes.

Pidge was like a little sister to Keith, and in the short amount of time Lance was in the country, she became someone Lance became quick to rely on her too.

And damn, Pidge was glad she got to keep the picture of heated cheeks, nervous gestures and the overwhelming happiness in Keith's eyes. He was so much more grown up than he was in fourth grade.

Keith grabbed Lance's hand, tremoring as he met his gaze. The Cuban boy's eyes crinkled as he smiled down at Keith.

Lance and Keith made their way out of the building, Lance's thumb rubbing circles on Keith's knuckles the whole way.

After climbing into Lance's sister's car, Keith let himself breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this would all turn out okay.

Maybe