Shut Up And Dance With Me//Klance//Complete

Unsteady

"What about this one?" Keith asks, and there's a brief pause before the music starts to play. It takes Lance only until the lyrics start to recognize The Other Side.

Lance makes an unsure whine sound in the back of his throat. "Don't get me wrong, I love my man Jason Derulo, but like... I'm not feeling it, you know?"

Keith grunts, pausing the music. "What is it anyway? You've been saying the same thing for the past week, but you haven't found it yet." He grumbles, and Lance feels him hunch a little more.

They're sitting back to back on the floor of room 4D, both looking through their phones. He can't really blame Keith for his frustration. They have been at this for a week and so far they've made no progress. Granted, they haven't met up every day since regionals, both deciding to take a break from their daily practices to kind of reset and rest. But this is the fourth day they've met for a schedule one hour practice session, and so far there's been no practicing. Just an endless stream of music and disappointment.

He doesn't think Hunk and Pidge have this much trouble settling on a song, and despite the trouble he and Keith had picking a song for auditions, he didn't think it would be this hard. But every song Keith suggests just doesn't feel right, and Keith is all about vetoing Lance's ideas. They had both decided that since they had roughly three months till regionals, they would pick a completely new song and choreograph something together.

So far, working with Keith is terrible.

"You know, it!!" He says, throwing up his hands to gesture vaguely.

"No, I don't. That doesn't make any sense."

Lance turns his head to look in the wall length mirror, glaring at Keith's reflection. Keith tilts his head, catching his eye. "It, Keith. It!" He holds up a hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and shaking the gesture. "I'm not feeling it! It doesn't feel right!."

Keith snorts, looking back down at his phone. "You're too picky."

"Uh, duh, yeah, of course I'm picky! We got into regionals, dude! This is a big deal! If we do well, we could get all kinds of opportunities! I can finally get my dance career on track!"

"You're going to do well no matter what song we choose." He mumbles, and his voice is filled with a frustrated grumble, but the compliment in it is so clear, so blunt, and so unabashed, that Lance finds himself staring at Keith's reflection with wide eyes.

"Uh... thanks?" He says, because he's not sure what else to do. Keith isn't usually open with compliments like that, and it kind of catches him off guard.

Keith jerks his head up then, catching Lance's eye. He seems to realize what he's said, eyes widening a fraction even as his lips press into a frown. If Lance squints really hard and truly believes, he can almost see the reddening of Keith's cheeks. But then he's looking away, hiding his face with a curtain of hair. "Yeah, so get the stick out of your ass and just pick something."

Aaaand Keith is back to normal. Crisis averted.

"Uh, must I remind you that you're just as guilty as I am about vetoing songs?"

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

"Am not!"

"Okay, then what about this one?" He says, pressing a song on his phone and the indisputable beats of Turn Me On by David Guetta and Nicki Minaj starts playing.

Keith actually seems to listen to the song for a bit, and for a moment Lance thinks they might have found something, but then the song gets to the chorus and Keith shakes his head once.