There, nestled against my pulse

Chapter 2

The problem with Keith finding Lance attractive, is that he really freaking wishes he didn't.

It's distracting, when he's trying to focus in a fight and Lance won't stop letting out a delighted yell every time he takes down a platoon or pulls off a cool move. He sounds alive and bright and Keith hates that he finds that endearing.

It's distracting, the way he looks in his suit, lean and tall, and it only gets worse the more confident and comfortable he gets. He'll stand with his helmet between his elbow and his hip, leaning to one side with his head cocked, and Keith's eyes will track him like a homing beacon until he remembers to rip his gaze away.

It's especially distracting, because Lance has a nice smile and nice eyes and nice skin and a nice goddamn scent—and that's just when he's fooling around. When he's serious...his eyes will narrow and they'll go sharp, ice-bright, and the ever-present mirth will fall from his face and leave only determination and focus behind.

Keith is ashamed to admit that he walked into the castle wall the first time he saw that. And Lance wasn't even doing anything important; he was just struggling to figure out which plate of food-goo looked the least disgusting.

So, it's small problem. Irritating, at it's worst, but ultimately, just that: a small inconvenience.

They've all got soulmates. They're destined for other people, so Keith's not really entertaining ideas about him and Lance. In fact, he's not entertaining ideas with anyone, considering the ending promised for the person who winds up with him as their match. And Lance is exasperating on a good day; having him for a partner isn't something Keith thinks he'd be suited for.

He just wishes it would stop, though. Having no control over his eyes jumping to the razor-edge of Lance's jaw when he turns his head—it gets tiring after the fifteenth time.

Maybe it's because Lance is the first person he finds cute that he's forced to interact with daily—being stuck in space like this—because usually, Keith will notice prettiness, admire it distantly, and then just avoid the person until, eventually, the attraction went away.

With Lance, it only gets stronger—gets worse, during the beginning months where Keith starts to realize that Lance is funny.

And smart. And kind. And homesick and perpetually cheery and dependable and skilled with a gun, even when he's half-dead from a bomb.

It's in that instance, that event, that attack from Sendak and the aftermath, that things get kind of—well.

It makes it difficult. To just shallowly label Lance as cute and occasionally distracting and often annoying, now that he knows there's more to the guy. They took down one of Zarkon's trusted generals together and to Keith, it seems like there could be something else, here.

Something like...

Well. He kind of...would like. To be friends, maybe?

Before that, he was fine with working together—coworkers in a war or colleagues—whatever. He was fine with them constantly butting heads—okay, maybe not fine, but resigned, at the least.

But then Lance says we make a good team, and what the hell is Keith supposed to do with that?

Because they do make a good team, and sue him, but he prefers it when they aren't at each other's throats, when they pull off badass moves together in their lions. When their exhilaration loops and cycles higher between them through that telepathic connection, until Keith is practically shuddering in his seat and grinning so hard his mouth threatens to split at the corners.

So, he likes it when they get along. And with a taste of what they could accomplish, he wants to try. For the first time, Keith wants to figure out how the heck you make friends.

Pidge is just as socially inept as him and despite that huge disagreement at the start, it's easy with her because they're both blunt and that doesn't offend either of them.

Hunk is Hunk. He's friends with anything that breathes. He's the easiest of all to be around and Keith thanks a different cryptid every day that they have him on the team.

Shiro...Keith wouldn't exactly call them friends. There's the leftover dynamic of cadet-officer, but it's kind of more personal now, without the stringent military thing. Most of the time, Shiro just nags about hygiene practices while Keith blatantly ignores him; he sticks his fingers in his ears and it's great because Shiro gets really red in the face.

Once, the counsellor at the Garrison had laughed and said they acted a lot like brothers, but Keith thinks it's more like a ghost decided to haunt him and no amount of exorcism would remove it. Shiro pinched his ear when Keith told him that.

So, the team is the closest thing he has to a social circle, but hell if he knows how it happened—or how to make it happen with Lance.

Because Lance is the missing part to it all. He's the one person in the castle that can't stand to be around Keith for more than ten minutes, and Keith's not going to lie—it's disheartening.

How can he build a friendship with someone who won't even be in the same room as him?

So the months pass in that same routine: Keith tries to be friendly, and there's always a second where it seems to work, but then something doesn't click and soon enough, they're back to spitting fire at each other and Keith never gets an answer to what Lance's hobbies are.

They go on missions and he gets little snippets—instances—where they team up and it's great and they have so much potential and Lance grins and Keith is right there with him, elation bubbling in his lungs—

—and then they go back to the castle, and one of them will inevitably annoy the other and they'll stomp off in different directions. The livewire between them goes dead.

It's frustrating.

And Keith's just a little bit disappointed.