hey there pretty boy (klance)

CHAPTER 04

"Keith! Let's go," Shiro yells from the door, dancing impatiently on his toes. He's been up for at least an hour now. Keith has been ignoring him for about the same amount of time.

The younger brother stumbles out of his bedroom, tangled in a big red sweater that doesn't want to come off. Shiro hides a smile even though the other can't see him. "Don't laugh at me!" Keith snaps, because he can feel Shiro judging him. Sibling's instinct. Finally he works his scrawny arms out of their fabric prison and tosses the sweater on the floor. He pouts as he does so, and his face stays that way as he hunts for his sneakers, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed.

The brothers had become less inclined to their early morning jogs since Shiro had taken over Voltron and Keith started putting in forty hours a week. Unfortunately, Shiro has decided that enough is enough and insists on dragging Keith out that morning, despite the fact that the air is already turning humid and sticky.

As expected, Keith's face is warm and slick with sweat within the first ten minutes of their run. Usually he has no difficulty keeping up with Shiro - nine out of ten times he could beat his brother in any race - but he's really not feeling it today. Keith begins to drag his feet and hardly notices as he slows to a walk while they pass the beach.

Shiro glances over his shoulder, slightly out of breath as he pauses his jog. He inhales the heavy, salty air through his nose. "Wanna run down to the wharf?"

Keith sets his jaw. "No." He picks up the pace again and passes Shiro, ignoring the look of concern from his brother. There was a time when Keith loved to visit the wharf, to climb down at low tide and explore the sand. Maybe they would have stayed longer at the beach and goofed around in the water. Without their parents, however, the experience seemed lacking. Keith keeps the ocean at a distance. It's his rule.

With Shiro matching his strides, Keith takes them away from the road by the water and veers deeper into town. They skip the residential streets and jog directly into the center of tourist-heaven, stores and pubs that will be bustling with ten times as much activity once sunny weather is more of a guarantee and less wishful thinking. A couple shopkeepers open doors and set out signs for the occasional visitor.

Shiro pauses for a polite exchange with Iverson, a family friend whom Keith doesn't care for. He stands a few paces ahead and surveys the street. That's when he notices the familiar mop of brown hair peering into store windows.

Keith stares at his brother and wills him to talk faster. "Shiro," he goes as far as to interrupt the conversation, because there is a specific reason why he pestered Hunk into promising not to mention Keith's 'crush' to his brother. Tapping his fingers against his leg, Keith glances across the road again - a fatal mistake. Lance must have noticed him and seems to be squinting in his direction, lighting up as he recognizes Keith's face.

"Hey Keith!" The smiling boy jogs across the pavement and skips happily onto the curb, landing at Keith's side.

Shiro, noticing the new arrival, picks the perfect time to end his conversation with Iverson and rejoin his brother. He looks between the two of them.

"Hi! The name's Lance. I'm Keith's friend."

Lance offers an enthusiastic hand to shake while Shiro laughs and teases, "Oh? I wasn't aware that he had any."

"Shiro!" the younger brother squawks in outrage.

"I like your brother, Keith," Lance giggles. He falls into step with the two of them, hands slipping comfortably into his pocket. Keith itches with a stupid irritation. It bothers him how easy Lance finds this. "So, what are you guys doing today?"

"Oh - we're, um," Keith stumbles over an excuse as his brother wastes no time interrupting with, "nothing."

"Cool! I'm going to check out the wharf. Care to join?"

Keith winces internally as a pair of bright blue eyes smile at him. He hates Shiro, but mostly he hates himself, and it almost pains him to mutter, "s-sure."

His cheeks flush as Shiro gives a subtle smirk, saying, "I'm going to run up to the store. I'll catch up later!" Keith opens his mouth to protest, but his brother is already waving goodbye over his shoulder as he jogs down the road. He solemnly promises to suffocate Shiro in his sleep.

Keith wipes his face with the collar of his t-shirt. He can feel himself burning up as Lance taunts, "looking good, pretty boy!" and Keith peels his damp hair from his forehead. "You could use a swim."

"I don't swim."

"What?! Why not?"

"I've kind of, uh, forgotten how to."

Lance shakes his head, muttering something about how they'll have to fix that, and takes Keith's hand in his. He doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary as he drags the blushing boy along.

A half hour later, and the two of them are watching the last of the tide come in. Lance perches on the short wooden rail and dangles his feet over the edge of the dock while Keith sits cross-legged a foot away from the edge. Some people have come and gone, taking their boats that rest anchored further out in the bay. Keith is baking in the sun and cursing his life. Lance and his gorgeous natural tan seemed to glow in the warm light, looking entirely at home.

"You don't like the water, do you?" Lance sighs softly, breaking the silence. "It scares you."

Keith's chest feels tight. He thought he had been making a decent effort to seem as though he was enjoying himself. Today, under a clear sky, the ocean looks gentler than usual. A steady blue that sparkles where the sun hits - it's soothing, but Keith can't shake his anxiety. He can't seem to get rid of the unspoken disappointment that hangs in the air, either, although he's not sure where that comes from.

"Sorry," he says.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know."

Lance nods, eyes drifting over the horizon with lazy attention, seeing but not really processing. "I love the ocean. It's beautiful."

"Yeah, it is," Keith murmurs.

The blue-eyed boy's smile is as wide as if he just won the lottery.

They leave the wharf in quiet company, feet carrying them down the road in the vague direction of Keith's apartment. He has no idea where Lance is staying - he's already figured out that Lance is new in town, maybe an early bird tourist - but the other boy seems blissfully unaware as they walk. He hesitates as they pass the beach.

"Hey, Keith, can I show you something?"

Keith hardly has time to nod before Lance takes his hand and he's ungracefully dragged over the guardrail. Lance crouches at the edge of the water, grinning playfully as the waves splash his toes and recede just as quickly. Keith hovers a few feet away.

"Come on," Lance calls him.

"Lance-"

"It won't bite, Keith, it's just water." He scoops some in his hand as Keith creeps closer, lifting it to show the other boy. "Look. It doesn't hurt." His voice is sincere, even though the words sound sarcastic at first. Lance spreads his fingers and flips his palm over - but instead of pouring back into the ocean, the water clings to his tanned skin and spirals up his forearm. Lance wears it like a sleeve.

Keith swallows, watching as the boy gives his arm a shake and the water drips off like it should have done in the first place.

"What-"

Lance hums, turning away from the ocean. "It's hot. Let's get ice cream."