Accidental Intentions

4 • Perspective

When Lance arrived at the dinner table, the others had already begun. Pidge asked after Keith, wanting to know if he was on his way.
"I dunno, he didn't seem able to tear himself from the room," Lance answered with a smirk.

"What? What would posses him to skip a meal? Especially dinner, it the most important meal of the day!" Hunk voiced his concerns.

"You say that about every meal," Pidge remarked as she gazed balefully down at the green slime before her.

"It's true!" Hunk defended. "They are all most important, but in different ways. You see, dinner is a time of social bonding — strengthening of the team spirit and such. It is a sacred tradition and has been apart of our culture since culture began. In fact, it can be said that culture began at the dinner table."

"I had no idea sharing meals was such an important part of human history," Allura offered kindly.

"Mmn," Shiro grunted noncommittally as he took a swig of something that he was obviously trying very hard to like.

"As for Keith, he has been working really hard hasn't he? Perhaps he just needs some rest," Allura smiled pensively. "Not that you all haven't been working hard, but there is such thing as being overzealous."

"I don't think that's the whole story," Shiro announced, setting down his cup with a non-so-well-hidden look of accomplishment. "Keith, he's got a lot of anger, that one. That and a feeling of needing to prove himself."

"To who?" Coran questioned.

"Himself," Shiro answered.

"Who, Keith? He's always been that way," Lance protested. "Back at the academy we were rivals. He had to work so hard to keep up with me. What?"

Hunk and Pidge had their mouths set in a line as the stared at him for a long moment before turning to their food.

"Still, he seemed a bit off today," Pidge declared.
Lance was curious as to what exactly she meant by that.

After dinner, they chose to head for the common room where Coran taught them a Altean card game as he dealt. Hunk was a natural winning almost every game. Pidge was the runner up, but that may have been due to Allura being on her team. Lance noted that they were spending a lot of time together since Pidge revealed her identity. Shiro tried really hard, but the best he could manage was no more than "okay."
Lance however, lost every game by a landslide. Not that he really cared. He was mostly there for the flirting and some sarcastic commentary. Everybody was getting along and vibing, it was nice without a broody mullet dampening the mood in the corner. Despite this, Lance felt unable to enjoy the moment.

It was late when everyone went to bed. As they were walking back he mentioned to Pidge that Keith had seemed to have left his spare key in her room.

"So you did talk to him. Did he say anything?" She asked.

"First of all, what makes you think he talks to me, and second, what makes you think I'd tell you?"

She removed her glasses, buffing them on her sleeve before pacing them back on her face and fixing him with a scrutinizing stare.

"What?" Lance asked, nervous.

"What's going on with you?"

Lance took a step backwards. "Nothing is going on!"

"That's what people say when something is most definitely is going on. Everyone knows this."

"Well, it's not." Lance crossed his arms.

She leveled him with a look before unloading on him. "First, I think you'd be surprised if you'd give him a chance. But you won't. Because, secondly, you enjoy talking about him all too much," she stated simply.

"Well yeah! It's Keith! We love talking shit about him."

"Look, that was before my time at the Garrison. I don't know what happened between you, but if we are gonna work together as a team, maybe you need to be a little less shady.

"I'll slip the key under his door tomorrow morning then," she turned to leave.

Lance watched her disappear behind her door before calling out. "Wait! You're right, I'll talk to him."

Pidge opened the door a moment later, and placed the key in his hand. "You are both acting weird. Fix it."

She shut the door in his face.

Keys acquired, he approached his room. He listened for a moment before silently easing the door open.

It was dark.

Since he was still alive, Lance figured that Keith had yelled himself to sleep. Creeping forward, Lance approached the bed. The first thing he saw was a tiny light shining out from a clenched hand. Then from the light of the faux stars, he saw the profile of Keith's sleeping face.
This was a Keith he had never seen before. The Keith he knew was always focused on some problem, some furrow in his brow. Not this Keith. This Keith looked like a different person with all his cares erased. Maybe it was the low-light, but he looked otherworldly.

Then he noticed what he was wearing.
He couldn't help it, he let lose a short bark of laughter.

Keith shifted in his sleep and an emotion flitted across his face, but he did not wake. After taking in every savory detail of Keith's humbling state, Lance was shocked to see the state of his room. It looked alien how tidy it was.

"What the cheese?" He whispered. His clothes were neatly folded, and his stuff was tucked away in a orderly fashion. The only thing out of place was something wrapped around his statue of some deity he had picked up on his adventures. Upon removing it, he could see it was a towel.

I didn't put this h—

Lance immediately dropped the towel like it was diseased. It was Keith's. Gross.

Since he valued his life, Lance decided against waking Keith. Instead, he optioned to sleep in Keith's room. Leaving the door slightly ajar behind him so Keith could escape in the morning, Lance exited his room and made his way to the red door. He retrieved from his pocket the keys he had gotten from Pidge as he looked over his shoulder to be sure no one was watching. Having confirmed the coast was clear, he turned the key in the lock and entered.

Lance has never been in Keith's room before, and he was surprised at how desperately bare it was. The bed was made, not a single wrinkle was visible. The walls were unadorned, and the only furniture was a desk, a chair and a minimalist dresser.

Closing the door behind him so Keith wouldn't be able to jump him in his sleep Lance made his way to the dresser with the intent of looking for pjs. Normally, he would have just slept in his clothes, but seeing Keith in his clothes made him not want to be out done.

After some rummaging he found some black sweats and a black tee. He had to knot the drawstring at the waist to keep them from slipping off his slender hips. The shirt was baggy on him but it ended well before his belly button, showing off his midriff.

Posing in the full length mirror hung on the back of the door, Lance decided he looked hot.

Throwing himself on the bed, he looked up to the blank ceiling, then at the blank walls, then at the blank floor, then again at the blank ceiling. As he drifted off, he wondered if there was more of a story behind the boy with so little apparent personality.