Chapter Text
"Who the fuck is Keith Gyeong and why is his name on the list instead of mine?" Lance squeaks, his voice high pitched in distress and nose inches away from the paper pinned to the wall with the names of newly admitted students to enter the fighter pilot program. "That's my spot! I earned that spot!" His frown deepens by the second. Lance doesn't gets angry easily, he's cheerful by nature, his brain not functioning with oxygen but with annoying (not by his criteria) jokes, his body powered by an ego so huge that, according to some of the students also attending the Galaxy Garrison, could crash the whole academy and its surroundings.
Usually, anyone who knows Lance would say that the kid is a joke, the class clown, the flirt that ends up with a red hand shaped mark on his cheek, the cocky kid that is nothing but empty words and empty pride. But people that really really know Lance (like Hunk and his second oldest sister Sierra) would say that he's nothing but a big mouth trying to speak big words when he's just a scared mama's boy on the inside. Sierra would say that it's because being the youngest son in a big family —a really big one, meant he grew up with a lack of attention that his older siblings didn't have to worry about. And having something to prove become a constant in Lance's life when, at the tender age of three, he rode a bike for the first time under his parents' unimpressed gaze. Trying to constantly compete with your older brothers and sisters for a bit of attention could be really tiring when they know how to tie their own shoes and you don't.
Hunk would simply say that all Lance needs is a hug.
Lance would say that he's too awesome for all that sentimental shit.
It is true, indeed, that Lance worked hard for that spot, specially knowing how difficult it is for him to focus on one simple task as it is sitting and studying (it's common knowledge that he's a very mediocre student/pilot). He spent all his free time using one of the simulators instead of flirting around at the pubs of the nearest town; he cut hours of his beauty sleep just to have his head buried in a human size pile of books; he even asked that stupid shithead Delahk Macboul for help to understand how to use defensive and evading tactics using the principles of the gravitational pull of the motor rotation in exchange for a full month of free dessert; dammit, he even stopped making jokes in class for a full week (hardest week of his life, if you ask him; the most peaceful week since he joined the Garrison, if you ask his teachers).
And now he has to stay as a cargo pilot for another year. Just. Great.
"Lance, come on, it's not that bad, look, we're still in the same class." Hunk tries to cheer him up a little, though he knows how high Lance's hopes were. Hunk still doesn't understand this obsession for becoming a fighter pilot, he guesses it has something to do with the fact that none of his siblings who attended Galaxy Garrison in the past could reach the 'fighter pilot' rank.
Lance's shakes his head and he's smiling when he turns to face his friend. The grin is too tense to be sincere, but Hunk doesn't say anything. What could he say when he sees his best friend's dreams being crush in front of him? Lance tried hard, as he's been doing his entire life, and he failed, as everybody expected —except for Hunk, he was sure he'd make it this time.
"It's okay, buddy, I can always try next year." Lance knows that's a lie, he tried his best for nothing. He failed. Again. "Anyway, who's that Keith? Is he new or something? I bet he chickens out in a week and then I'll take his place."
"Lance, I don't think that's how it works." Hunk grabs Lance by his shoulder to lead him to the cafeteria. With all Lance's excitement they missed breakfast, maybe there's still some left overs to fill the void the sad news had left in their stomachs —more Hunk's than Lance's. "And you know Keith," Hunks says as they walk through the crowded corridors full of students getting ready for their morning training and classes, "you've complained about his mullet for over a year now, man."
"What? That guy?" Lance exclaims. Yeah, he remembers that mullet clearly, that guy riles him to the point of wanting to hit his head against a wall; who the fuck doesn't laugh not even a single time at his jokes in class? That guy is dead inside. He pushes the cafeteria door with a hand to find the pace almost empty.
"Yes, 'that guy' has been beating your scores at the simulator since, like, forever? And he even has better grades than you, he's in the top three in the sparring class and—"
"Ugh, Hunk, you're killing me!" Lance interrupts him as they fill their plates with some of the cold scrambled eggs at the almost empty buffet. "Why didn't you tell me about this—" Lance makes a gesture with his free hand pointing at an imaginary strand of hair at the back of his head, "— Keith before?"
"Oh, I did. I remember I did." Hunk sets his tray on a table near the entrance of the cafeteria just in case they have to leave quickly to be at their respective classrooms on time. "I remember because we were at that pub. What was it called? The clammy lamp? Anyway, I was telling you about the rumours when that girl winked at you and then you were gone, man."
Lance chews his cold eggs before swallowing them and then he points at Hunk with his fork. "First of all, it was called the clammy clamp, Hunk, second, that girl was too hot for not paying attention to her and—" the bell suddenly starts ringing, interrupting Lance. "Well talk about this later, I have a physics test in an hour."
"A test? I didn't know that! Did you even study for it?" Hunk asks confused. He usually helps Lance with his physics classes and he's sure he didn't tutor him since at least one month ago. "Wait, have you been studying with Sadie again?"
Spinning around before leaving through the door, Lance smirks at Hunk and says, "Hunk, please."
Of course Lance has been studying during those tutoring sessions. Most of the time. He couldn't risk his grades to fall any further if he wanted to enter the fighter program —not that it matters anymore— and choosing Sadie was the right thing to do, that girl is a genius. It'd be a lie to say that Lance didn't try to flirt with her once in a while —okay, every ten minutes— though every attempt at gaining the girl's heart ricocheted like rubber toy bullets on Sadie's unimpressed face. So, yes, Lance is more than prepared for that stupid test.
But what Lance is planning right now has nothing to do with physics.
Though everyone knows that every cadet is allowed to attend other students' simulation exercises as long as it doesn't interfere with their own obligations, Lance has never bothered to go to any, even if the superiors encourage it in order to learn from the others, because he's stubborn as fuck —as he usually says it's not like he needs to learn how to pilot when he already knows how to do it perfectly.
Until now.
Lance knows exactly where to look for Keith Gyeong's schedule for the next week and it's not because he already tried to sneak through a certain freckled blonde's files in order to get a date with her. Not at all.
The counselor's office door is open and the room completely empty, as Lance expected. The computer is unlocked and Lance smirks at how stupidly easy this is. When Lance leaves the room whistling innocently, hands inside his pockets, the first thing he thinks is how on earth he's going to shake Hunk off.
Keith will be in the simulator in three days and Lance will do whatever it takes to be there to watch his new found arch rival.
Seventy two hours is a lot of time, and it gives Lance the perfect excuse to distract himself from the depressing feeling of adding another failure to his very own list of 'life fiascos'. What's so special about that mullet anyway? He has better grades, okay; he's better at combat than Lance, right; his scores on the simulations are nearly perfect, sure. But what about Lance? He worked hard, he studied and trained and god knows that it's his dream to be a fighter pilot. The guy has no social skills, Lance doubts Keith knows how to laugh; and Keith can't— Keith— No, fuck, he can't be perfect. Ugh, Lance is starting to hate Keith's guts.
Lance doesn't see Keith sitting in his usual desk the next day, or the one after that. Right, he is in the 'special class' now. He doesn't want to admit it but he's starting to feel itchy inside; he grits his teeth, clenches his fits and swallows hard. Shit.
"Where are you going?" Hunk asks, three days after the public announcement of Lance's flop, looking over a book from his bunk bed.
Lance freezes in front of the dorm's door. Crap, his plan for sneaking of their shared room unnoticed isn't working. He turns with a bubbly grin plastered on his face and says: "I'm going to hit the training room for a while. You know, feed these muscles, stay ripped for the ladies—"
"Lance," Hunk interrupts setting down the book on the bed, "we've known each other for a long time and I know that you hate sparring. Above all, I've seen you naked enough times to know that—"
"What? You checked me out?" Lance squeaks pretending to be shocked.
"— you're scrawny as fuck—" Hunk continues, ignoring Lance's offended face.
"I'm not scrawny! Mom says I'm still growing!"
"—so tell me the truth because you don't know how to lie."
Lance pauses for a second, his brain functioning at maximum capacity, as his body recoils against the closed door.
"I- I have to study with Sadie." Lance blurts out the first thing his brain vomits through his mouth.
"I thought she said, and I quote, 'I'd rather chop off my fingers one by one than help you study again'. End of quote."
"Uh... I have a date!"
"Nope, not possible," Hunk deadpans.
"Ugh, Hunk!" Lance whines.
"Lance," Hunk says, standing and walking towards his friend.
"Okay, okay!" Finally giving up, Lance rises his hands in a defeated gesture and bites his lip. He's ashamed to admit that the Keith Gyeong thing is starting to be an obsession. "I'm going to the simulator."
"Really? Why?" Hunk says, eyes full of suspicion.
"Keith is piloting today," Lance hisses through his teeth looking away from his friend.
The thing is that Hunk is not surprised at all. What is surprising is that he took so long to start stalking the guy. Hunk knows his friend, and how important it was for him to join the program, so he shakes his head sadly and press his hand on the button to open the door.
"Okay," he says, "let's go." And he leaves the room without looking back to see if Lance is following his steps.
"What? You're coming too?" Lance follows him tripping over the threshold.
"Of course, you'll need me when you start freaking out."
They walk in silence as they exit the barrack's building. It's not a big deal, they are going to watch a piloting practice, they have been there countless times. Not a big deal. Then, why is Lance so worked up about it? Not understanding his own emotions makes Lance feel all frustrated; Keith is just a classmate he barely noticed until three days ago, so why is he suddenly so obsessed with him? He would never admit this out loud, but he wants to know him, he needs to know more about the guy who stole his dreams and aspirations. Does Lance want to punch his face? Sure. But the morbid curiosity that crawls inside him every time he thinks about the guy is stronger than his homicidal impulses.
"Dude, calm down." Hunk's arm falls over Lance shoulders. "Hey, I get it, you feel threatened by Keith, but he's a nice guy, a little awkward, but cool!" He is aware of Lance's annoyance, but he keeps going because sometimes Lance needs somebody to ground him before he loses himself in his own insecurities. "He's a great pilot, he deserves that place."
"Ugh," Lance groans as they walk through the sand of the desert surrounded by other cadets rushing to their duties. A group of students pass them running in circles around the buildings, a cloud of dust raising after them as they go around the corner.
The control room is not as empty as Lance expected, half the seats at the back of the room reserved for the viewers are occupied by students. Not just students. Girls. Thirteen girls to be exact —not that Lance had counted them. God dammit, Keith has groupies.
The two friends walk over to two free seats in the front, and Lance wants to rip his face off at the whispered conversation he hears coming from the group of girls, he's so handsome and mysterious, and hot, don't forget hot, yeah, I saw him sparring against my brother and he's so good, really? Yeah! And he used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and I swear to god that he has the best six pack I've ever seen, no! Yes! Oh! Look, there he is!
Lance looks away from his shoes and lift his head to look at the screens placed near the ceiling and above the control panels. He sees a mullet and his blood boils —in anger, jealousy, excitement, he doesn't quite know. The cameras set inside the fake ship situated in the middle of the huge hangar shows Keith and the other two members of his crew enter the simulation cockpit and sit down in their corresponding spots. They get the system ready in silence, talking to each other no more than necessary, and Lance clicks his tongue, why do they have to be so professional?
After ten minutes into the simulation, Lance's jaw begins to ache from dropping for so long. Keith's movements inside the cockpit are so fluid and calculated that they can only be compared to a professional pilot. There are no unnecessary movements, and the manoeuvring of the ship is so precise that it sends shivers through Lance's spine. And Keith's face during the whole simulation— fuck, his sharp eyes don't leave the controls not even for a second, his tongue sticks out a couple of times when the complications of the fictional mission seems to be too much for the team though he never loses his cool. Lance squints his eyes when Keith starts to bite his lip and furrows his brow after the astromechanical engineer didn't calibrate the blasters fast enough, huh, so Keith isn't as perfect as everyone thinks he is.
As the level of difficulty of the exercise increased, Keith's patience and focus seemed to decrease, even though his moves and tactics became more hasty he managed to finish the simulation with a perfect score.
And for some reason, Lance hasn't blinked the entire time and the blush on his face has reached his ears.
He doesn't want to admit it, but the way Keith pilots is quite, quite beautiful.