I'm not dead, and just to prove it... I present a one shot specially made for you!

Keith wasn't an easy person to surprise. He was pessimistic at best. And when things went wrong, Keith was always there to happily remind everyone that he was right. Things rarely ever go according to plan, and he was counting on it. Keith stood a firm believer that if things go right, it was because he put in the blood, sweat, and tears to make that happen. If he was going to ace that test, he would work until he knew without a reasonable doubt he'd pass it. If he wanted a drawing to invoke a response out of someone, he'd put the time necessary into it to make that happen. He liked to be sure of himself, and he liked to be in control of his life. Maybe it stemmed from a childhood that was far out of his control. And when things weren't within the realm of certainty for Keith, he avoided them like the plague. People tend to be that uncertainty for him most of all. He hated the unpredictability of people and despised human nature, for he only saw the worst in it.

Sometimes he expressed those feelings in his art, and it has come out the most since his figure drawing class began. To draw people as he saw them was to draw them in dark values, and their smiles appear sinister rather than carefree. No matter how many times he would erase and try again, their eyes always came out cold or dull, they never showed life.

"Keith, come talk to me after class." His professor smiled as she watched him erase the face of their model and start over. The model was handsome with boisterous red curls, and yet he looked borderline wicked in Keith's drawing. He didn't mean to, and he tried it multiple times over, but class would end in a few minutes. The model covered himself in a robe and padded to the back room—a.k.a storage closet—to change back into his clothes and Keith sighed at his unfinished figure.

He sat quietly as he watched his classmates pack up and leave one by one. He held his charcoal tightly as he stared at the blank face of his figure in indignation. How come it was so easy for them to capture a stranger's aura? He was a good artist—no, an excellent artist. So, why couldn't he get past his bias and just draw them as they appear?

"Keith, I can tell you're struggling." His professor, Dr. Katz-Wettin, gave him a pitiful smile. She had long brown hair that she always wore in a high pony tail bringing out her sharp features. Everything about her was sharp, her nose, chin, eyes, ears, and even her hands. But in contrast was her gentle nature, though Keith was positive she could be cutthroat if she wanted. "What's up?" She tilted her head as she spoke.

"It's nothing," Keith rubbed his neck to relieve some of the stress he was feeling there.

"How come whenever you draw a person from your head they're flawless, maybe lack some depth or life, but amiable nonetheless. But, whenever we bring in a model, while the execution is still perfect, they have this scheming, shrewd look about them." She, as if to prove this, deposited a pile of his assignments on her desk and spread them out. "Notice the difference?" She held up two for comparison.

"Yeah, I know." Keith sighed. "I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Oh, I'm fully aware it's not purposeful. I want to get to the bottom of why it's occurring. So tell me Keith, what do you think of people?" She rested her chin on the palm of her hand and peered at him.

Keith fiddled with the charcoal in his blackened hands. "I never cared much for people. If that's what you mean."

"Why's that?" She glanced down at his art.

"People by nature are cruel and self serving." Keith leaned on a desk and tilted his head to look out the window at the green campus below, full of wandering students. He didn't mean to sound so cynical, but perhaps he was a cynic.

She nodded as if to consider that. "I'm sure that impression doesn't come from nowhere. I came from a rough childhood too. I felt the same way about people for a long time." She stood up, walked around her desk, and sat on the edge of it folding her arms. "This won't magically cure anything, but my advice to you—no, my challenge to you—is to go outside, sit on a bench, and people watch."

"Dr. Kat," he started to complain.

"Shut your mouth." There was the sharpness. "Go people watch. You'll see some people support your belief, maybe they'll litter, or kick rocks at birds or whatever. But then some people will pass and they'll demonstrate humanity. People aren't by nature good, but they're not by nature bad either, Keith. They're neutral. And it's as we grow, we get to decide what we want to be. Just give it a try."

That evening Keith sat down maybe a little spitefully on a bench. He huffed and tilted his head back letting his eyes fall shut. The summer heat was dissipating as September dragged closer to October. The sun was warm but the breeze promised cooler weather around the corner. The air felt crisp and as he breathed it in, his head felt clearer. He let his eyes slide open and bore witness to the translucent leaves above shaking in the breeze. He let the negativity flee his body and lifted his head to watch the passing students without bias or cynicism.

Hours passed and Keith didn't consider leaving his spot on the bench until the sun began to cast long shadows on the ground. His professor was right, it wasn't a magical cure, but he didn't loath humanity in that moment. Maybe that was progress.

The next day, he was quick to leave his art history class and head to his figure drawing. He dropped his bag on his chair and fumbled to pull out his supplies. "Hey Keith, did you take my advice?" Dr. Kat asked as she walked by.

"I did." Keith set his tools on his desk and dropped his bag onto the floor. "And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you're right. It did help a bit."

"I'm glad to hear that." She smirked. Dr. Katz-Wettin then looked over his shoulder. "Hi, does the robe fit okay?" She asked the model.

Keith turned around to see who they were working with today and he caught a glance before tripping over his bag. This sent him spiraling forward and he promptly knocked over the easels that had been leaning against the desk beside his. He flushed kneeling to right them again, but he'd caught the attention of the few people in the classroom. "Keith?"

Keith snapped to look at whoever said his name and it brought an even deeper crimson to his cheeks. It was the model who spoke to him, and he was horribly handsome. Shorter than Keith, but he was still of a considerable height. Though the model was slender and lean, and he had rich tan skin that ran in smooth planes. His hair was short and soft looking, matching the pretty brown eyes that twinkled at him. The sun pouring in from the window caught the model and made him glisten in a golden hue. Keith's attention was quick to notice the model's lips at first, in which he felt the urge to draw so that he could capture them for himself. That was until he saw the model's long slender legs and decided he needed to draw those even more urgently. But the longer he stared the more he was overwhelmed with the need to draw everything belonging to the man. And his voice, he wished he could draw that too. It was sweet and the way he said Keith's name resonated in his ears like a bell. And then that brought to attention that he had said his name, as if he knew Keith. Only, Keith did not recognize the beautiful figure in front of him, if only maybe in smooth Greek statues and renaissance paintings from his art history textbook.

"Do... do I know you?" Keith met that expectant gaze and it set him ablaze. Suddenly, he was very eager to sit and stare at the model for the next hour, and draw the arcs of his figure.

"Lance. You know? Lance and Keith, neck and neck." He echoed.

Lance. It was unfamiliar and brought with it no recollection, "Lance?" the name passed through his mouth in a smooth unfold of consonants and vowels.

"You really don't remember me? We went to high school together." Lance furrowed his brow in annoyance and Keith offered no explanation or feigned memory. "Unbelievable." Lance huffed.

"Keith's always been kind of oblivious." His professor interjected, maybe if a little to save his ass.

"I object to that." Keith looked at her with offense.

"You object to a lot of things, you'll live." She shrugged. "Lance, if you wouldn't mind standing up there."

Lance obliged and Dr. Katz-Wettin demanded the attention of the class. She gave a few tips and warned of the upcoming project due date that Keith hadn't even started. He peeked over at Lance and found the boy staring at him. They both quickly looked away and Keith readied his large canvas paper to hide himself behind it. He picked up his lump of charcoal and rubbed it between his fingers to coat them. He had a method of drawing that involved him taking the occasional swipe across the canvas with his fingers or rubbing at certain areas to spread the value. It wasn't a science, and many frowned upon touching the canvas with your hands to avoid getting oils on it, but Keith preferred it. Dr. Kat complained about it all of once, until he produced his image and she never bothered him after that. It created a unique emotion in his art, that much was undeniable.

She finally turned them loose and Lance let the robe fall to his feet. Keith swallowed thickly and hovered his charcoal above the paper. Lance sat down in the raised chair and positioned himself to be drawn. And then Keith began soft strokes across the white surface. He tends to look very serious when he works, Shiro has made fun of him on many occasions for his pinched brows and the way his eyes flick back and forth with a mean focus. Though, each time his eyes darted up to the model, he would remember who it was and how beautiful Lance was and his expression softened. Lance was gazing just past Keith, but so often would his eyes drift to look at Keith and watch him work. And when their gazes would meet, Lance would correct himself and look at the wall behind the artist once again. Keith studied Lance with careful eyes, soaking up every curve, shape, mark, or flaw. He reverently plotted moles, freckles, and the small scar—barely visible—on his forearm.

Lance sat as still as he could and hoped his pose translated well for the students to draw. He made sure that Keith had the best angle for his drawing. He wanted to see how it was coming along as Keith seemed deeply invested and worked with swift precision. He'd look up and study Lance with a fervent intensity that made him shift and want to look away yet burn under Keith's gaze at the same time. Lance was enraptured by watching Keith work, he melted at the way Keith's hair was pushed out of his face, but a few stray locks dangled in front of him.

Dr. Katz-Wettin was circling the room observing her students' progress. She stopped next to Keith and leaned in to inspect it further. "I didn't tell you to add color," a grin pulled at her lips, "I love it."

Keith had picked up a yellow medium and added splashes of the gold he felt radiated from Lance. When he received praise from his professor, he felt the encouragement push him farther. His eyes flicked up to Lance and he saw the man looking at him with curiosity. He probably wanted to see the drawing after hearing its good feedback.

Class was over sooner than Keith would have liked. He lost track of time and when Lance stood, Keith almost protested for breaking his pose until he saw the clock. Lance wrapped the robe around himself and walked towards the back closet to change.

"My advice must've been more effective than I thought. This is your best yet, Keith. It's effervescent and so lively. You did well." She clapped him on the shoulder. The corner of Keith's mouth corked up into a suppressed smile as he snatched up his supplies. His professor grabbed up some broken easels and hauled them out of the classroom (only one of them being from Keith's clumsy moment).

"Can I see?" Lance was still pulling his shirt down as he peeked at Keith over the top of the canvas.

"Uh sure," Keith stepped to the side as Lance walked around the desk. And Keith will never forget the glimmer in his eyes when he saw the artwork.

"Keith, can I take a picture of this?" Lance looked at him with awe.

"Go ahead," Keith shrugged wiping his hands on a cloth.

"I can't believe you made this. It's so cool." He stared at it longer. "You made me look all noble and pure." He chuckled. Keith had kind of been aiming for that elegant Greek deity kind of look, admittedly, to justify the heart of gold he saw in the boy. Keith looked up and Lance was no longer looking at the canvas and had his attention on the culprit of such a piece instead. "I can hardly believe you're the same Keith from high school. The same aloof, edgy, emo who sat in the back. Let this be a lesson why you shouldn't make fun of the quiet kid." Lance gleamed.

Keith rolled his eyes, "I haven't changed that much since high school."

"Oh yes, you have. You're a lot taller, I used to be taller than you. And you have those now," Lance pointed at his biceps and Keith flustered. "Your mullet kind of suits you now."

"It's not a mullet." Keith scoffed.

Lance ignored him. "I don't remember you being super artsy in high school." He said thoughtfully.

"I've always been sort of private." Keith shrugged and put the drawing away.

Lance watched him put away the thing he so admired and grab his bag. "So what are you doing now then?"

"Just school and work." Keith shrugged.

"What do you do for work?" Lance and Keith walked side by side out of the classroom.

"I'm a tattoo artist." Keith answered as they started down the stairs.

"No way! That's cool!" Lance looked up at him with an admiring look that had Keith flushing again.

"It's not that cool. What about you?" Keith asked as they reached the bottom.

"Well I-" Lance's phone started ringing from his back pocket and when he saw the contact he glanced up at Keith. "I better take this."

Keith nodded and Lance swiped his thumb across the screen and held it up to his ear. "Hunk, what's up? Woah, woah, buddy slow down. Huh? You what?! Stay right there, I'm on my way." Lance hung up, "I gotta go, my roommate put dish soap in the dishwasher and the bubbles are dangerously close to the living room." He didn't wait for a response before he was rushing out of the building. Keith sighed.

Lance was a fantastic model.

That night Keith was sitting on the couch with his sketch pad and a pencil bouncing anxiously in his hand. He tried drawing Lance again, this time from memory, but he struggled. What shape were his eyes again? What would he look like in a different pose? Would his smile look like that?

He sighed and scrapped the page entirely. They almost never had the same model twice, he doubts he'll ever run into Lance again. He mourned the loss of such a unique, drawable model. But even as he laid down for bed, he was still thinking about Lance. He desperately searched his memories of high school, but came up with nothing. Much of his childhood was fuzzy due to him repressing, and his fuzzy memory ventured all the way to his teen years even though a lot of the stress had dissipated by then. He was still mourning through high school.

The next day, Keith took time to people watch again. The weather was slightly more on the chilly side allowing for long-sleeves, flannels, and jackets. It was peaceful today, not the same bustle on campus as there was last time. He enjoyed the freshness of being outside, and the lusciousness of the campus added to the appeal. He was tempted to pull out his sketchbook and draw some of the trees or birds, but he tried to keep himself on task—watch the people.

It was sort of boring, but entertaining in its own way. He watched a professor try for a sip of coffe as he was walking and spilled a bit on his button up shirt. He immediately panicked and tried blotting it away as he rushed inside. Mostly, students were just walking with their earbuds in or looking at their phones. He watched a club of students exit Katherine Hall with a bucket of chalk all laughing and chatting. They eagerly drew out announcements for their club on the cement. He admired how much fun they seemed to be having.

"Sup," Lance sat down next to him and swung his legs to drape over Keith's lap while he braced his back against his book bag.

"Lance?" Keith blinked at him owlishly.

"What? Don't recognize me with my clothes on?" Lance winked with a bright smile. Keith let out a chortle. Watching Lance still counted as people watching, right? "Did you know that female sea turtles can store sperm for up to four years? Cause I didn't, until about twenty minutes ago."

Keith scrunched up his nose, "Where did you hear that?"

"In my oceanography class." Lance tilted his head and smiled which was enough to make Keith's heart hammer in his chest.

"I didn't even know you went here." Keith shook his head.

"Keith, my man, really? I've seen you around campus a lot. What the fuck? High school and now college. Am I like invisible or something?" He bristled.

"No, I'm just..." Keith trailed.

"Oblivious." Lance supplied.

"Okay, yeah, fine. Oblivious." Keith rolled his eyes.

"What're you doing by the way? You're just sitting here." Lance sat up a little and slung his arm over the back of the bench so he could face Keith properly.

"Homework." Keith nodded at the campus. "People watching."

"Your professor makes her students people watch as an assignment?" He grimaced.

"Not students. Just me. And it's less of an assignment and more of a voluntelling." Keith sighed.

"Huh, I guess it's kinda nice. Why does she make you people watch then?" Lance was staring out at the campus now as if the answer would be there.

"I'm not very good at figure drawing." Keith huffed.

"That's a bold faced lie. You're amazing at figure drawing. I would know." Lance beamed at him.

"Okay, well technically yes, but my figures always come out lifeless and cold, or they look more sinister rather than happy-go-lucky." Keith wasn't sure why he was telling Lance this.

Lance looked confused, "Not the drawing you did of me."

"Well yeah, but that one was different." Keith said really without thinking.

"Hm, different how?" Lance's eyes seemed to twinkle at him.

Keith shrugged like it was too much trouble to explain. "Just was. So, I have to people watch to make me less cynical."

Lance pursed his lips as he thought. "Well, I'll join you then. I'm not a cynic, but maybe I'll rub off on you."

Keith looked at Lance a little longer than intended. Lance wanted to be around him of all people. This ray of sunshine and pillar of beauty wanted to spend his Thursday evening people watching with him. And of course Lance wasn't a cynic, of course he saw the best in everyone. Of course he would pity Keith and sit next to him.

"What? You're looking at me so seriously. You look like you did when you were drawing." Lance settled for a soft, pleased grin.

"Nothing, it just..." Keith shook his head, "nothing." After a while of sitting in comfortable silence, Keith reached into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook. Quietly, he began to draw Lance.

Lance's eyes wandered to Keith, "Are you drawing me?" He tried to lean forward to peek.

"Don't move," Keith snipped. "And yes."

"Warn a guy," Lance pouted, "I think I had a stupid look on my face."

"Trust me, you didn't." He mumbled.

"What? Did I look so handsome you had to draw me?" Lance gloated.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Why did you end up modeling anyway?"

"I saw a sign up sheet and thought I'd get some volunteer hours in while simultaneously getting tasteful nude drawings of me. I didn't really see a downside." Lance tried to hold still but his eyes slid to look at Keith.

"Keep looking at me." Keith demanded.

Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Keith fervently worked and his eyes were intense as they stared at Lance. He suddenly felt naked, like Keith could see right through him into the deepest parts of his soul. It was intoxicating and terrifying.

"If you're in an oceanography class, what are you majoring in?" Keith asked out of the blue.

"Marine biology." He said quietly keeping his gaze fixed on the artist.

"Suits you." The corner of Keith's mouth twitches with a smile.

After a few quiet minutes, Keith set down his pencil. "You can move now."

Lance dropped his legs to the ground and scooted close to Keith to look at the drawing. "How did you do that? It was only like fifteen minutes. Can I?" He held up his phone. Keith nodded and watched Lance take a picture. "Can I see more?" Lance silently pleaded to turn the page.

Keith nodded but felt a little self conscious. Lance flipped through the pages studying each one carefully. Lance was in awe, he loved all of them. But then he stopped on one page in particular. It was a drawing of a small bird perched on a wood fence along the beach. Lance stared at it with a wondrous fascination. He felt like crying at the picture, "It reminds me of my family in Cuba."

"Take it." Keith said quickly. He liked that one a lot too, but art was meant to be shared and he couldn't think of anyone better to give it to.

"Do you mean it?" Lance looked at him with doe eyes.

"Yeah," Keith was careful in removing the picture from the book and handed it to Lance. "Careful, there's hairspray on it."

"I knew your mullet didn't look like that naturally!" Lance shouted triumphantly.

Keith raised an eyebrow. "The hairspray keeps the graphite from smudging or transferring. It's not for my hair."

"Oh." Lance pursed his lips. He reached in his bag and pulled out a folder to safely put the drawing in.

"Thanks for people watching with me, and for letting me draw you again." Keith grabbed his things.

"Oh yeah, don't mention it," he watched Keith get up and there was a hint of a pout in Lance's lip. Keith wanted to capture it with his art, with his own mouth, with his teeth. Keith broke from his derailed thoughts and said goodbye.

Later that night Keith practiced drawing people again. They still came out lifeless. It was better, but he had to figure something out fast, his project was coming up. He thought of Lance and the life in his features and the radiance in his eyes.

And then he had an idea.

Keith waited on the bench hoping Lance would see him and approach. He should've asked for his number or something. Two hands gently covered his eyes, "Guess who?"

Keith's hands covered Lance's and he tilted his head back to look up at that bewitching face. "I've been waiting for you."

Lance swallowed, "Me? Little old me? Lancey Lance?" He walked around the bench and satbeside Keith. His heart swelled in his chest. Surely Keith was about to ask him out. Absolutely.

"I have something to ask you." Keith looked away, his cheeks turning a bright crimson.

Here it comes!

"Yes?" Lance urged, leaning closer.

"Can I paint you for a project?" Keith blurted.

Fuck!

"Uh, yeah, sure." Lance blinked at him. He really thought Keith was going to ask him out, ask for his number... something... anything.

"It would take a lot longer and you would be nude. Are you sure? I'll make it up to you." Keith promised.

Oh, Keith will make it up to him alright. "I'll be your model, Kogane."

Keith smiled at him, and it was a genuine smile. It made Lance feel like he was glowing. Keith had an attractive smile, and it was so rare that it made it all the sweeter. "Thank you, Lance. You're really saving my ass."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm great. I know." Lance rolled his eyes.

"Can I get your number?"

Lance perked up. That he can work with. "Yeah,"

Lance pulled out his phone and handed it to Keith, and when Keith handed Lance his phone, he nearly dropped it out of pure shock. "You have a flip phone? Keith, oh no, you wonderful ancient specimen. A flip phone?"

"I know they're not terribly popular anymore, but it sends texts and I can call. That's all I need. And watch!" Keith took it and it slid out a tiny keyboard. Keith gave him a proud look like 'isn't this neat?!' and Lance's heart melted at the adorable idiot. If he didn't want to jump Keith's bones before... he sure did now. Keith was unbelievably sexy, and, even more charming, was the only person who seemed blissfully unaware of Keith's sexiness, was Keith himself.

Lance wanted to kiss him silly, touch every inch of him, and writhe under Keith's artistic hands. Lance would do it all until Keith knew how inexplicably hot he found him. Until he knew how crazy Lance was about him. Lance would ride him until all doubt would be erased from Keith's mind. Lance wanted to feel Keith's touch in long strokes across his skin like he was sculpting him out out clay. Smoothing all his rough edges and moulding him to the same beauty he highlighted in his drawings.

Keith noticed the way Lance was staring. "What?"

"Nothing, just when you paint me, you better make me look hot." Lance smirked.

Keith laughed and grabbed his things to leave, "You don't have to worry about that. See you around, Lance."

And Lance was struggling to form coherent words.

Keith took a deep breath and pressed send. Immediately he dropped his phone on his bed in a panic only to pick it right back up again to wait for a response.

'Hey Lance, it's Keith. Are you free tomorrow night to model?'

Was that too much? Too forward? Keith decided all this panicking wasn't doing him any good and went to set his phone aside. Only, his phone dinged and Keith snatched it up to read the response.

'You bet'

Keith let out a breath of relief and tapped at the buttons of his phone with nervous fingers.

'Hows 4pm? Ill send my addres'

Lance stared at his phone. God Keith was such a dork and he loved every second of it. He could imagine Keith fumbling with his tiny flip phone trying to write a text. It was too sweet.

'I'll see ya then'

Keith sent his address and waited eagerly from something else from Lance. The conversation wasn't rich, and he didn't know how to get something going.

'Woah nice apartments'

Oh. That's how.

'Thx, I live with my brother', Keith wrote. And then had a thought, 'but he'll be at his fiancé's, so don't worry about him walking in on you or somth. He practically lives there.'

'Pfft thanks Keith' Lance texted back, 'what's your bros name?'

'Takashi Shirogane, but he just goes by Shiro usually.'

'Yeah I can't pronounce the full name. Just tried and my roommate looked at me like I was having an aneurism.' Lance hastily replied.

Keith laughed aloud, 'it's Japanese, I don't blame you'

'So you're Japanese?'

'No actually, Korean. Shiro and I aren't blood related.' He was a little hesitant to press send that time, unsure if Lance might suspect his lack of family and as a result pity him. Sometimes people get weird about it, like it's their job to cheer him up about his dead parents.

'Damn, do you know Korean?' Lance texted back and Keith felt relieved that Lance still acted normal.

'Yeah, but not as good as when I was younger. Still pretty fluent tho'

'Damn that's badass, I'm the first generation in my fam, parents were born im Cuba and immigrated' Then he added, 'So I know Spanish'

Keith quickly decided he liked talking to Lance, even if it was over text. He loved the way Lance would ramble and send several short texts in a row as if he kept remembering things to say. He loved the cheesy emojis Lance would send him. Or, the handful of times Lance tried sending Keith a GIF forgetting he had a flip phone. Keith stared at the pixilated unknown attachment with confusion a few times before he caught on that he was missing out on Lance's expertly chosen bitmap image. For the first time, he considered getting a smartphone just for the sake of getting to see what Lance was sending him. Maybe he was a little obsessed with his new texting buddy. Just a bit. And frankly, Keith had sent more texts in the last 24 hours than he had in a whole month.

And he texted him all the way until 4pm the next day when there was a gentle knock at the door. Keith sprung from the couch and opened the door eagerly. Soft eyes were nearly buried in the large smile that found its way to Lance's beautiful face. "I'm ready to get naked."

Keith laughed and rolled his eyes, but he stepped to the side to let the goofball in. "You're going to give the neighbors terrible ideas." Keith's mouth felt surprisingly dry, and his hands especially sweaty standing in Lance's gracious presence.

Keith walked into the living room where he had his art supplies set up and an easel with an empty canvas on display. He'd thought up a hundred different poses in a hundred different places and settled with this one. He'd pushed the couch so the end of it was in front of the window and laid a sheet over the top, and like magic, he could imagine Lance sprawled out there with his divine skin in smooth planes draped over the sofa. He wanted his head to lay on the armrest and be tilted back like he was looking out the window. Thoughtfully, he put a pillow there in case his neck became sore from the angle.

"Is this where you want me dude?" Lance asked reaching up to unbutton his light blue shirt. Keith had to admire the way Lance was dressed, it made him look square and sharp, but he was more eager to see him without it.

"Yeah, let me just..." Keith hurried to shut the curtains. "Just in case." And when he turned around from the windows, Lance's clothes were in a pile beside his feet. He made sure to keep his eyes above the shoulders as he told Lance to sit. "Want some water? Or coffee? Or tea?" Keith asked nervously.

"I'll take some tea." Lance smiled sweetly at him. Then again anything Lance does in Keith's eyes is sweet. Keith nearly ran into the table with all his paints and brushes making them rattle and he hurriedly marched to the kitchen to fill a teapot with water and heat it on the stove. He came back out and saw Lance sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and he slumped forward almost self consciously.

"Go ahead and lay down, rest your head here." Keith fluffed the pillow a little and set it in place. Keith stepped back to his easel to see what Lance would look like from there. "Go ahead and tilt your head back. Relax a little, you look stiff."

Lance couldn't help but be a little nervous. He's found himself in odd situations before, very odd. But to be laying naked on full display in front of someone you like? That was enough to get his nerves going. Especially when he knows that soon Keith will start painting him and he'll get that deeply serious look on his face that will crack Lance open and make him spill out. He felt strangely exposed when Keith looked at him, and not because he was naked. Now he knew why Rose did it with Jack in a car after he drew her. Lance looked up at the window, yeah, he could definitely drag his hand down that. Except, he'd make room for Keith on the door if they find themselves stranded in the freezing, open sea.

"That's better. Let your hands rest... yeah like that." Keith directed him with soft words. "I'm definitely getting an 'A'."

That made Lance fill with delight. He was happy to be helping Keith, and he was happy that Keith thought so highly of him. He always came off to people as the dorky goofball who you could never take seriously, but he felt like Keith didn't see him that way. And maybe Lance was optimistic, but he really thought Keith could like him.

Keith stood and stared just a little longer and Lance shifted. "You gonna paint or what?"

Keith shook himself from his thoughts. An intrusive thought came to mind and now he can't seem to shake it. At first he thought about his professor and hoped she would like the painting. What if she even put it on display? Or kept it where people could see? And then he felt strangely weird about other people getting to see Lance like this. And he even had another thought, what if another artist saw the painting and wanted to paint Lance too. Which, it all shouldn't be a big deal, but it was. "Wait here." Keith hurried to his room and looked around for anything that would help. He haphazardly pulled the sheet off his bed sending the rest of his blankets to the floor.

He came back out with the sheet and casually draped it across Lance where it would only cover his lap. He pulled the sheet in a manner that would have elegant motion and was satisfied with the result. "You're covering the goods Kogane."

Keith huffed a laugh and went to finish making the tea.

When both men had a cup of tea, Keith turned on a few lamps for a better lowlight and turned off the too bright living room light. He settled in his chair and got to work. He picked up his charcoal and began the outline with relaxed precision. Lance wished he could also watch Keith work, see how his hands moved across the canvas to capture the image he saw. And then he felt himself shiver a little under that relentless gaze.

"Are you cold?" Keith asked pausing his work.

"No, I'm fine" Lance answered in a quiet voice, captivated by Keith resolve. He wished he was an artist so he could paint Keith right back and capture him in colorful brushstrokes. But alas, all he could do was watch and try to commit the picture to memory.

While Keith finished the outline, he panicked in trying to decide what to do for the color of Lance's skin. He eventually settled for something leaning towards expressionistic but still realistic. This means adding color out of the typical realm of skin. He mixed up a dozen colors and began to apply the first of color to the canvas. He worked in amazing strokes blending the unique colors together but ultimately letting the gorgeous golden tans dominate. Keith frequently paused to see how it looked, and satisfied with how it was turning out, he'd dive back in with his brush

"Hey Jack, am I allowed to drink my tea? Or will it mess you up?" Lance asked trying to subdue a smile.

"Jack? Really? And yeah, it's fine, just make sure to remember the position." Keith chuckled ducking behind the canvas.

"Well, this feels awfully reminiscent of that one scene, and you do have the fancy hair." Lance brought the mug to his lips and took a sip.

"Oh, now it's fancy? You called it a mullet before." Keith scowled.

"It's fancy when you're painting. When you're not painting, it's a mullet." Lance grinned.

Keith rolled his eyes, but his smile meant he wasn't fooling Lance. Keith debated on sharing this next bit of information, but decided the smile he might get from Lance would be worth it. "Usually when I'm working on something and no one's around, I put my hair in a pony tail on the top of my head to keep it out of my face."

Lance let out a wholesome laugh that made Keith's chest flurry. "No way! You gotta do it now!"

"I said when no one's around." Keith chuckled.

Lance made a show of glancing around the room. "A duh! No one's around!"

"You're here." Keith smiled contentedly as he added more color to the canvas.

"So? I'm barely here. I'm a model, so I just blend in. Plus it's just me, Lancey Lance." He batted his eyelashes.

"I'll consider it." Keith made no promise.

A few hours passed and Keith was making his way toward the face. "Tilt your head up again. Look toward the window." It was hard to believe how much time had passed with their quiet banter back and forth. It was nice just listening to Lance talk, almost soothing in a way as he painted. Lance was quick to comply to Keith's directions and Keith stared a moment. "Actually, look at me."

Lance's eyes seemed to widen a small fraction for a moment, but when his eyes fell on Keith, they were soft and gentle. His large baby blue's were gorgeous and full of something that made Keith's heart beat wildly. He couldn't place the feeling exactly, but he would almost describe it as adoration. And Keith wasn't prepared for such a look. He cleared his throat and pretended not to mind as he mixed his paints and continued to work.

"Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?" Lance asked, disturbed by Keith's sudden silence.

"We can call it quits for tonight after I finish your face." Keith said warmly.

"Really? How much did you get done?" Lance questioned curiously.

"Enough for now. I can probably finish it in one more session." Keith worked carefully. The face was the most important part and those eyes were like blue flames boring into him making it hard to concentrate.

"Wow! I can't believe it's been like four hours!" Lance took notice of the time. "It only felt like maybe two at most. Normally sitting still is kind of hard for me, this has to be a record."

Keith smiled softly. He could stay and paint Lance all night long. If he ran out of canvas space, he'd happily dip his fingers into the color and smooth them over the empty canvases of tan skin. All night, he would paint. He shook his head of intrusive thoughts and focused on finishing Lance's face.

"Okay, you're officially free... for now." Keith dropped his brush in the water.

Lance sat up and stretched feeling his muscles whine and joints pop. "Can I see?!" He hopped to his feet.

"No, absolutely not. Not until it's done." Keith turned the canvas towards the wall.

Lance pouted. "So not fair." He stood up and the sheet dropped from his lap making Keith flush and turn away. He busied himself with cleaning up his paints to distract from the beautiful man behind him.

Lance realized he grew kind of used to being naked in front of Keith. Understandable considering he's been around Keith more naked than clothed. So when he stood and watched a deep crimson spread across Keith's face, it made a blush come to his own cheeks as well. He pulled on his boxers and shoved his arms through his sleeves, but before he started buttoning, he noticed a framed photo. Upon further inspection, it was younger Keith, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. He looked nervous and slightly uncomfortable, but he had a small shadow of a smile. Beside him was a taller man maybe in his twenties with a thin scar across the bridge of his nose and brown hair. And then there was a woman beside the two boys with long blonde hair and a pretty sun dress, maybe in her forties. "Who are they?"

Keith turned around and his demeanor changed, less flustered. "Oh, uh, that's Shiro, my brother. And that's Ruth, she was my foster mom." Keith explained stepping closer to look at the photo too.

"Foster mom? As in, you were...?" Lance asked, if not a little apprehensive.

"In the system? Yeah." Keith nodded but it was more like he was bobbing his head.

"What was that like?" Lance still had a few of the top buttons of his shirt undone and Keith had to make it a point not to let his eyes trail down Lance's long neck and venture over the dips of his collar bones and the honey skin that was teasing him.

"Uh, not great for a long time. I didn't meet Ruth until I was seventeen and almost out of the system, but she was really nice. And meeting Shiro has to be one of the greatest things to happen to me." Keith flashed a small smile. "He was in some kind of big brother program. Where older teens sign up to befriend an orphan. I hated Shiro at first. Then again, I hated everyone then."

Lance peered closer at the picture. "And then I met you not too long after that. Do you still see her sometimes?" Lance pointed at the woman.

"Mmh, no, she's she passed away." Keith shrugged, he hated how pitiful this all sounded. He wanted to make it all seem lighter than it was, like he was unaffected.

But Lance's sharp eyes looked at Keith and he hated seeing the pity in them. "How?"

"Cancer. It was a few years after I was released from the system." Keith rubbed his neck, he hated heavy conversations. He needed a topic change. "What about you? Your family."

Lance hesitated and broke his gaze from Keith. He didn't really want to show off how large his family was after what Keith just told him. "Hm, you wanna know about Julio and Ignatia McClain?" Lance casually smirked and lifted his hands to finish off the last few buttons of his shirt. It was just his luck, he was half naked in front of the man he was pinning for and this was the topic of conversation.

Keith resisted the urge to push the shirt off Lance's lean shoulders and kiss him senseless. To let his mouth trace the same body he spent hours observing. But alas, he let the corner of his mouth cork up into a shadow of a grin, admiring the hint of an accent in Lance's voice when he said his parents' names. "Yeah, tell me about them." Maybe Keith was a masochist, but he wanted to hear Lance talk about the family Keith never had, a childhood Keith had longed for.

"They're farmers." Lance smiled reaching for his pants and slipping them on.

"Huh. Didn't expect you to come from a farm." Keith sniggered as he collected the empty mugs to take to the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, Lance was fully dressed and he smiled at him with those brilliant eyes. "Thanks again for letting me paint you." Keith rubbed the back of his neck. "The project is due Friday, I was starting to get kind of nervous."

"Don't mention it Kogane," Lance leaned against the door, "you owe me. I'll just have to find something really good for you to pay me back."

Keith cracked a smile, whether Keith owed him or not, if Lance asked anything of him, he'd do it at the drop of a hat. "Counting on it."

Lance blushed and stood up straight. "Uh, well, I can come over again tomorrow night so you can finish."

"You sure that's okay? You don't have homework?" Keith tilted his head.

"Nah, it'll be fine." Lance assured.

They parted ways, but not truly as they continued to text nonstop. Keith never thought he could enjoy the sound of a notification from his phone so much. It used to be something he dreaded. But now, that sound meant Lance. Every time his phone went off, he would be snatching it up quickly and a smile would ease its way across his face as he read whatever funny thing Lance had to say.

Keith began to see Lance around campus too. When they passed on their way to classes, they smiled. And Keith liked it, liked being friendly like this with Lance. Pidge, walking beside Keith, gave him a funny look. "You know Lance?"

"Yeah," Keith turned around to see if he could glimpse the back of his head as he disappeared in the crowd.

"You like Lance?" She asked a little more surprised.

"Yeah," Keith said dazed before processing the question, "No! Why would you even ask me that?" He whipped his head to face her.

"Damn. You two got it bad." She shook her head.

"No, no, no. We got it good, er, we don't got anything at all. Nothing. Zip. Nada." Keith corrected.

"Whatever you say." Pidge rolled her eyes.

"How do you know Lance?" Keith ignored her tone.

"We had a class together last semester and worked on a group project together. He's really nice, super friendly. Actually, when I mentioned being friends with you he got super excited. Kept asking me a bunch of questions like what your major was and what you do for work." She sounded uninterested yet mischievous and Keith didn't know how to feel about that.

He wasn't sure how to process this new information either. Lance had been asking about him prior to their more recent meeting. Additionally, that means he already knew the answers to the questions he'd been asking Keith. "What all did you say?" He asked self consciously. Pidge was the kind of person to bring up 'That One Time' to embarrass you.

"Nothing much. Just that you're a big dork, you're a tattoo artist, you're in school, and you're hopelessly single. I think that covers it." She recalled before breaking into a grin.

"See, this is exactly why I can't trust you to speak at my funeral." Keith brought up an old argument, mostly to change topics but also to rile up Pidge.

"I'm telling you. Try to put it in the will, it won't stop me! I'm ten out of ten speaking at your funeral." Pidge took the bait.

"No! Because you'll talk about everything I planned to take with me to my grave..."

Keith hated how eager he was for Lance to show up. Their plan was still four o'clock, but he'd been waiting, staring at the door since three. So when he heard the knock on the door, he may have rushed to the door with an unnecessary amount of urgency. He smoothed down his clothes and ran a hand through his hair before opening the door.

"Your muse has arrived." Lance grinned putting his hands on his hips.

Keith let Lance in and moved to the kitchen to put on some tea. Only, this time Lance followed him. He leaned against the counter and let his eyes wander the room. But of course, he happened to see the one photo on the wall that he was hoping Lance didn't see.

"No way!" Lance laughed aloud and got up from his lean on the counter to inspect it closer.

"That was Halloween a few years ago. Shiro's idea." It was a picture of Keith, Shiro, and Adam dressed as lobsters. The couple were smiling wide and cheesy while Keith was trying to look grumpy about the costume but clearly found it amusing as well.

And then Lance lifted up his phone and indiscreetly took a picture of it. "What? It's cute. I'm almost tempted to make it my wallpaper." He said in response to Keith's pointed stare.

"Please don't, I don't think my pride can take it. I'm already nervous about this Halloween. Every time I ask Shiro what he's planning, he just smiles really wide and tells me it's a surprise." Keith huffed pulling down some mugs.

"Oh, I bet it's good. I'm definitely going to be here for that." Lance folded his arms and went back to leaning on the counter to watch Keith finish making the tea.

When they both had their steaming mugs filled to the brim with tea, they migrated to the living room. Lance slowly started unbuttoning his shirt and when Keith was caught looking he swiveled his head away. "What? It's nothing you haven't seen a dozen times."

"I've only seen you naked twice." Keith rolled his eyes even through Lance couldn't see it.

"More than that actually, boys locker room in high school. Not that you remember." Lance added. "And I'm talking about random naked bodies. You're in a figure drawing class, you've probably seen a ton of people naked. I'm surprised you're still shy about it."

"Yeah well, most of the time it's not weird because it's in a class setting, so it's easy to keep it professional. Plus, more often than not, it's older people because they're harder to draw. You know, with wrinkles and how to draw the skin." Keith explained.

"How I take it, is that you're embarrassed to draw me because you think I'm attractive." Lance smiled dropping his clothes into a pile on the floor.

Keith hated how suavely Lance read between the lines and even vocalized it. His cheeks were blazing red as he argued with himself if he should deny it or play it off. "Well, yeah, but it's not like..." he trailed off as he couldn't really find anything to justify it. So that kind of blew up in his face.

"Okay, okay, don't get all nervous on me again. Come pose me." Lance sat on the couch.

Keith moved his easel back into position and used it to figure out how to move Lance. He also made delicate work of moving the sheet back into place to cover Lance. At least with that out of the way, he could focus a bit better.

Lance tried to pretend he wasn't into this. Like his heart wasn't pounding in his chest every time Keith guided his arm back into place or tilted his head up. And the places where Keith touched, his skin was on fire. Goosebumps broke out across his skin.

"You sure you're not cold?" Keith asked.

"No, I'm fine." Lance answered quickly.

Keith sat back down and looked at the painting. Admittedly, he didn't need Lance back to finish it. He had done enough that any last details of Lance, he could've done from memory. But Lance didn't have to know that.

Some time passed and Keith had a decent amount of color on the canvas before Lance finally spoke. "Sooo, you know Pidge?"

"Yeah, but you already knew that." Keith smiled behind the canvas. "Pidge told me you asked about what I was up to now."

"She did what?! Is nothing sacred anymore?" He pouted into the couch.

They continued to chat as Keith worked on finishing his painting. It was extraordinary and he found himself falling in love with the painting. This had to be the best thing he's ever done, and he was sure of that. But then he became nervous, realizing that he was close to finishing the masterpiece and then Lance would be gone. Then again, he was here only because Keith asked, so maybe if he asked...

"Hey Lance?" Keith started as he was nearing the end, adding on the last final brush strokes of detail.

"Yeah?" Lance looked at him with those big wide eyes and Keith's heart melted.

"Remember when you came in... you called yourself my muse or whatever?" Keith's palms were starting to sweat.

"Uh, yes?" Lance blinked at him, but he felt hope swell inside his chest.

"Well, I was thinking... and I want to keep drawing you. If that's... okay? Because, I guess you were right, you kind of are." Keith scratched the back of his head and dropped his brush in the water. His eyes scanned across the canvas and he was so pleased with the picture before him. It was magnificent, Lance was magnificent.

Lance was smiling now and he continued to stare as if expecting him to say something else. "And?"

"And what?" Keith felt like he was missing something, at least with the way Lance was looking at him.

Lance's smile fell quickly, dropping like a sack of potatoes. That's it? That's all? Keith just wanted to draw him? Lance had never worked so hard for a date in his life. That's including the time he tried to get Allura to go out with him. But this? He's clocked in how many hours of simp time to get a date with Keith. And what for? To find out he's not into him, he just really likes painting him?

"Lance?" Keith was definitely missing something.

"It's nothing," his nose scrunched up but he held his pose. "Is the painting done?"

"Uh, yes." Keith stood up and took a step back from the painting. He watched as Lance shifted to get up and grabbed a hold of the sheet to keep around his waist. He walked over, dragging the excess across the cold, wood floor.

He kept his back to the painting. "Give me a countdown or something, it has to be a grand reveal."

Keith smiled and rolled his eyes but obliged. "Okay, three... two... one... look."

Lance turned around swiftly, twisting up the sheet with him. His eyes brightened at the painting, and then they seemed glossier than usual, and then there were tears cascading down Lance's pink cheeks.

Keith was taken back, "Y-you're crying..."

"Shut the fuck up Keith, no I'm not." Lance vigorously wiped at his face.

"Why are you crying? Do you hate it?" Keith looked between Lance and the canvas.

Lance shook his head, "No, that's not it... it just... I don't even know why I'm crying." Which isn't a complete lie, but he did have an idea. It was a beautiful painting, elegant even, a real masterpiece. Though, when Lance gazed at himself, he was shaken suddenly and violently with despair. How could Keith paint Lance's heart so fully and still be blind to it? Unless he did see it and chose to ignore it. Lance had been begging for Keith to look in his direction for six years, and now that he finally has his attention, Keith is slipping right through his fingers. Lance stared at his own face, studied his own gaze. It was one of longing and adoration, a silent plea for Keith to love him. It made the warm painting grow cold. A foolish man, no, a foolish boy desperate for the love of a man whom he can't seem to let go. It shrouded the painting of himself in isolation and cast him in loneliness. "I better go." Lance walked to his pile of clothes and began to redress.

"You're leaving?" Keith hesitated.

"The painting is done isn't it?" Lance looked up from buttoning his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head.

"Well, yeah, but you're just rushing off so suddenly." Keith folded his arms and then decided to unfold them. He didn't really know what to do with his hands.

"Well, this is all you want from me, right?" Lance slipped on his shoes and took a knee to lace them.

"No, Lance, I'm not just painting you for a grade. We're friends aren't we?" Keith worried his hands the closer Lance got to leaving.

"Yeah Keith, we're really good friends. I'll see ya around." Lance smiled, opened the door, and left. And even though Keith should've been happy to hear that, if felt like he was just sucker punched in the gut.

Keith fumbled to find his phone and quickly tapped on Pidge's contact. It rang, and rang, and rang, and finally on the last ring, a low annoyed voice answered, "Keith? What do you want?"

"I'll order us pizza if you come over. It's an emergency." Keith said quickly, barely even letting her finish.

Immediately she hung up and Keith knew she was on her way. So he called up the pizza place and ordered the pizza. Ten minutes later, Pidge was walking through the door without knocking. Keith was sulking on the couch and when she came in he jumped up. "Thanks for coming over."

"Yeah yeah, what is it?" She stumbled in, but her eyes fell on the painting and they turned into the size of saucers. "Keith. You painted Lance?! How come I didn't know about this?! And it's also really fucking good!" She stomped over to inspect it further.

With some pizza in their bellies and Pidge caught up, Keith told her about his and Lance's exchange right before he left. "I don't understand what he means. He seemed upset and then he was fine. But when he said we were good friends, it didn't feel like a good thing. Like, it kind of felt like a slap to the face." Keith shoved more pizza into his mouth.

"Well, duh. Of course it felt like a slap to the face, you have the biggest fucking crush of all time on him." Pidge rolled her eyes, she couldn't believe the stupidity that is Keith.

"Pidge, I'm being serious right now." Keith sighed.

"And so am I, Keith! Are you really that blind?!" She growled.

"Of course I like Lance, I know that. I'm not that oblivious. I'm just saying, get real." Keith huffed.

"What do you mean 'get real'?" Her eyes narrowed at him.

"I mean, I have no shot with Lance. Have you seen him? He's fucking beautiful, and funny, and he's so good at talking to people. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the number one bachelor." Keith was getting annoyed now.

Pidge snorted, "Keith, you're a babe. I'm sure Lance thinks so."

"How would you know what he thinks?" Keith snapped.

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? He's always watching you with little heart eyes." Pidge smacked him in the back of the head.

Keith grabbed his head and glared at her. "He does not."

"Do you think I'd be saying this if I wasn't confident?" She stood up and grabbed him by the ear and drug him to the painting. "Look."

"Pidge I'm not-" Keith began to argue but she elbowed him.

"Just fucking look." Keith rolled his eyes but let his gaze fall on Lance. And the longer he looked, the more he was convinced of Pidge's words. "Do you see what I mean? He's always looking at you like that."

"Okay, so, let's pretend for a second he does like me that way, why did he get upset and rush out?" Keith looked to her for more wisdom.

"Well, let's play this out for a second. Hmm, let's say Lance has been crushing on you for a long time, and finally you invite him on over so you can paint him. You text all the time, and you're quite friendly, maybe he's thinking that you could like him back or maybe that you're planning to ask him out." She paces back and forth. "And then, right before the painting is finished, you open your fat mouth and say, 'hey can I keep painting you for funzies?'. So our homeboy was probably thinking you were gonna ask him on a date or confess your feelings or something, but you just wanted a model buddy. You're literally friends with benefits, only the 'benefits' is painting instead of sex."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Keith sighed. "So what do I do now?"

"I don't know! That's not my problem! I would have been willing to make it my problem, but you don't get breadsticks. Pizza only takes you so far." Pidge crossed her arms.

"Okay, okay, I get it." Keith huffed. "Wanna watch conspiracy documentaries?"

"About time you asked." Pidge plopped on the couch and made herself comfortable.

Keith trudged through his daily classes with even less enthusiasm than usual. It had been two days since Keith finished the painting. He hadn't been lucky enough to run into Lance and he felt too awkward about texting him. So when he was about to give up on day number three, his heart soared seeing Lance sitting on the same bench from before. He wasn't doing anything, just watching the people pass by and it made Keith's heart swell. He was going to approach Lance, but he had an idea instead.

Keith pulled out his sketchbook and went to work. He spent maybe fifteen minutes on the sketch, and when he seemed it good enough out of fear Lance would get up and leave, he sauntered up to Lance.

Much like the first time Lance joined him, Keith sat on one end of the bench and swung his legs over Lance's lap. "People watching without me?" Keith smiled.

Lance looked surprised and a pensive smile found its way to his delicate face. "Care to join?"

"I actually have to get going, just thought I'd let you look at a drawing." Keith held out his sketchbook.

Lance took it with two hands, his eye never breaking from Keith until he had the book in his possession. He looked down and his breath caught at the picture. It was of him on the bench, Keith must've spotted him a while ago and did it. But his eyes trailed down to the bottom where a single question was written out.

Will you go on a date with me?

Lance looked up from the drawing to see Keith staring nervously at him. "Well?"

"Yes! You fucking jerk! That took you so necessarily long!" Lance socked Keith in the arm and Keith let out a laugh, mostly out of relief. And then Lance was leaning forward to sweep up the smile with his own lips.

"I know," Keith cracked a smile, "I've been told I'm oblivious."

*That October, Lance was included in the group costume. Shiro was Fred, Adam was Daphne, Pidge was Velma, Lance was Shaggy, and Keith, much to his dismay, was Scooby Doo.*

Part 2?