Chapter Text
Keith stood in front of the door to the dance studio, his bag slung over one shoulder as he looked up at the building with trepidation. Like most of the buildings in the city, it wasn’t anything flashy. The building looked a little old; the exterior definitely needed some work and looked to be at least thirty years old. The entry for the studio was easy to miss from the street; Keith had already walked past it twice before noticing the sign hanging in one of the second storey windows: Altea Dance Studios.
His stomach did flip-flops and tumble-turns as he entered the building and made his way through the foyer to the elevator. The linoleum tiles were peeling up in a few spots, one of the fluorescent lights continually flickered like it was from a horror movie and the walls were in desperate need of a new paint job. Keith briefly thought to himself that at least the interior and exterior of the building matched. He pushed the button for the elevator and waited.
And waited.
The elevator eventually clanged to a stop as the doors shakily pulled open. Keith cautiously glanced into the tiny box, wondering if the thing was safe and if he should just take the stairs instead. Against his better judgement, Keith stepped into the dingy lift to go up to level two. He nervously picked at tiny balls of lint on the lining of his jacket pockets as the lift slowly ascended making heart-stopping grating noises every so often that made him think that the cables would snap at any second.
How had Shiro talked him into doing this?
Oh, right. The wedding.
It was still quite some time off but there were certain things that the Best Man needed to do: organise the bucks party, embarrass the groom with a speech about all the stupid and adorable things he had done when dating his bride and actually dance at the wedding.
Keith was of two minds about the fact that Shiro and his finacée Allura were planning on choreographing an amazing first dance that included the groomspeople and bridal party. On the one hand, it was bound to look amazing; Shiro, Allura and their friends were all exceptional dancers. On the other hand, because everyone in the bridal party were professional or at the very least competitive amateur ballroom dancers, it meant that Keith wouldn’t be able to get away with the good old ‘high school shuffle’.
Shiro refused to let him be left out of the first dance because he had a Best Man without any dancing skills and to be honest, Keith’s pride refused to allow him to look like a duck with two left feet waddling on the dance floor with his poor unfortunate partner.
The elevator slowed to a halt on the second floor and Keith hastily stepped out, vowing to never again take a ride in the terrifying thing. The doors to the dance studio were frosted glass but Keith could just make out a few blurred silhouettes through them as he approached. He was a little early still and debated on whether he should mill about outside or if he should just head on in and make the inevitable small talk with whomever else turned up early. Taking a breath to calm his nerves, Keith pushed open the door.
The studio was full of natural light spilling in from the large windows on three sides of the large room making it bright and welcoming. The floors were made of a dark hardwood, polished to a perfect shine though it was easy to tell which parts of the floor were used more frequently. The ceilings were high, making the room seem even larger than it was. As Keith looked around the large open space, he realised that it was the sort of room that was almost begging for someone to leap and bound across it with their arms held out wide. It was absolutely perfect for dancing and Keith fought down the urge to leap across the floor as he made his way to a small desk by the door.
“Well, hi!” came a cheery voice. “You’re here for the private class at nine?”
Keith adjusted his bag. “Um, yeah. I’m Keith. Keith Kogane?”
“It’s great to meet you, Keith. I’m Hunk. Now, let’s see...” Hunk clicked around on the computer for a few seconds. “Ah, yep, there you are. Oh! You’re that Keith? Shiro mentioned that his little bro was going to be having some classes. Awesome! Your instructor isn’t here just yet, so take a seat anywhere you like.”
Keith groaned. “I can’t believe Shiro mentioned that...”
Hunk grinned. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“I know.”
Keith made his way over to a seat not too far from the desk and sat down, watching the pair of dancers who were currently occupying the floor. It was obvious that they were students, their steps were a little too cautious as they practiced. Keith wondered if they were getting lessons for a wedding or something. Their instructor was an overly cheerful fellow, with the most ridiculous moustache that Keith had ever seen. It was so ridiculous that Keith was actually impressed that the man somehow made it work. He seemed to have endless patience and would show the couple the same move time after time until they were starting to get it right. The first time they had managed to do the step without any extra instruction or adjustment from him, he gave the pair a bright smile and a clap on the shoulder.
“That was excellent! You’ll be tearing up the dance floors in no time! Not literally of course.”
Keith decided in the ten minutes he had spent watching the couple and their instructor that he seemed like a nice enough guy. He’d heard stories about the co-owner of Altea Dance Studios, Coran, but the stories didn’t really do him any justice. Although it was reassuring to know that everyone here so far seemed nice, Keith still felt like he was making one of the stupidest decisions of his life. Most people started dancing when they were five. Keith was a Proper Adult (apparenty) and could dance about as well as a spider on roller skates. Not that he had tried much in the way of dancing, to be honest. Shiro had tried to get him interested, not just in ballroom but in other styles too, though Keith had never had any interest. Music was where his passion lay.
As he sat there watching the couple finish their lesson, Keith couldn’t help but wish that Pidge would have just given him lessons, rather than give him their all-knowing devilish grin and a refusal. They’d said it would be good for Keith to learn with someone he didn’t know and Shiro had agreed for some unearthly reason. Keith tried to recall the name of the person that Pidge had said would be taking Keith’s lessons but he couldn’t quite remember. Shiro had eventually offered because Keith had been complaining about it so much but Keith had said it would feel too weird learning how to ballroom dance with his older brother. Pidge had flat out refused every single time Keith asked and begged with a cackle, saying that there was really only one choice for Keith’s instructor. Every time Keith asked, they gave the same reply: wedding reasons. There was one time, in a rare moment of weakness, that Pidge had relented and given Keith an annoyingly vague scrap of information. What was it that Pidge had said about his new instructor again?
The door to the studio open and a flustered, lanky man hurried in rushing over to Hunk at the desk. Hunk didn’t look too impressed for the briefest of moments before smiling brightly as the newcomer flailed his arms about, telling an elaborate story of his Worst Morning Ever. Keith wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the brunette was so loud and boisterous that it was impossible to not overhear the tale. As Keith watched the instructor wrap Hunk up in a tight hug, on the verge of tears about how fantastic a guy Hunk was, Pidge’s words came back to him:
“He is...he’s an experience.”
Keith swallowed the lump that had started to form in his throat as Hunk pointed him out to his instructor, his gesture open and inviting, a smile on his face. Goddamn, why did Hunk look so friendly? He resisted the urge to run out of the building as their eyes met and the guy gave Keith a bright smile before he approached.
What the hell did Pidge mean by ‘an experience’!?
The instructor approached with a casual swagger to his step, which Keith generally equated to egotistical moron and douchebag. It didn’t look like the guy was intentionally trying to be a douchebag though. It simply looked like the guy was eternally laid back and casual, an easy sway and spring to his step. There was a very casual sort of grace in the way he moved, unlike Shiro whom always stood straight and tall or Pidge who seemed to glide on air when they walked. His impossibly long legs meant that he was standing in front of Keith, with a hand extended in greeting before Keith really knew it.
“The name’s Lance,” he said smoothly with a smile.
The grin that Lance was giving Keith would have been better used if they were meeting in a cafe or a club; not at a private ballroom dance lesson at nine o’clock in the morning. Keith wasn’t about to fall for it; he knew a shameless flirt when he saw one. Even if Lance looked cute.
“Keith,” he replied, giving Lance’s hand a firm shake as he was given the once over.
“So, Mullet-man, I’ve heard on good authority that you’ve never danced a single step in your life and are about as coordinated as a two year old trying to write.”
Keith scowled. Not even five minutes into meeting the guy and Keith was half tempted to punch him in the jaw.
“Mullet-man?” Keith deadpanned.
Lance grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
Keith sighed. “It was Pidge, wasn’t it? And I'm not that uncoordinated. They were exaggerating.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Lucky for you, I am hands-down the best dancer there is to be teaching you.”
The proud grin that Lance wore was begging to be wiped off of his long face and Keith just couldn’t ignore the opportunity.
“You’re fifth best, at the very most,” Keith said holding up his hand. “First would be Allura, one of the owners of the studio, then there would be Shiro tied with, Corin? Coran? The other owner. I’ve seen Pidge dance, so I put them at four. Actually, the only reason I’d put you at five is because I don’t know if Hunk over there dances.”
Lance’s lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed. “Are you always like this with people you’ve literally just met? I was gonna take it easy on you, Mullet-man. I was going to start things off nice and slow and romantic with a simple waltz at both Shiro and Pdge’s request. But oh no. No, no, no. No way, buddy. Not now.”
Keith had the decency to look a little worried.
“Uh, beginner, remember?”
Lance scoffed. “The fifth best dancer couldn’t possibly teach you anything too hard, right?”
“I never said that!”
“But it was implied!” Lance rummaged through his bag looking for his phone. “Hunk! Come do the Paso with me so I can show my student here just what I can do.”
Hunk peered over at Lance. “Dude, you know I’m not so great at that. Besides, you're meant to be teaching Keith, not showing off to him.”
Lance pouted and huffed indignantly.
“He’s practically asking me to show off, Hunk!”
Hunk grinned. “Just get on with your lesson, Lance. You can show off some other time.”
“Fine,” he drawled as he fished his phone out of his bag and made his way over to the speakers.
“Alright, Mullet-man. As much as I’d love to scare you off with a Jive or Paso or something, I’ll stick to what Shiro wanted and we’ll begin with a Waltz.” Lance paused for a moment, scrolling through the playlist.
“Fifth best dancer, my ass,” he muttered.
Keith couldn’t keep up. One moment Lance was acting like a petulant child, easy to rile up and anger and the next he was being a mature adult, direct and straight to the point. He awkwardly made his way to the middle of the room to begin the lesson.
Soft music at a relatively slow tempo filled the room and Lance grinned as he walked up to Keith, his smile wide and bright. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, the mark of a genuine smile.
“Just you wait. I am going to sweep you off your feet, Mullet-man,” Lance said confidently as he stepped in close to Keith. He took Keith’s left hand and placed it on his upper arm before bringing his right hand to rest on Keith’s shoulder blade. Gently, Lance’s left hand came up to hold Keith’s right in a soft grasp, holding it up at around head height.
Keith swallowed and he unintentionally gripped Lance’s arm a little bit tighter.
Oh shit.
The way Lance was standing, straight and tall forced Keith to do the same. It wasn’t exactly easy to start slouching when a warm hand was keeping yours raised, no matter how much you wanted it to drop. His other arm rested on top of Lance’s, so he couldn’t drop that one either. Keith was aware of their proximity, the softness of Lance’s hand in his and the gentle weight of the other at his back.
To Keith, it felt strangely intimate. He never usually let that many people into his personal bubble and yet here Lance was casually making himself at home. Truthfully, Lance wasn’t standing all that close. Keith had seen Shiro and Allura standing much, much closer during their routines and dances, so he knew that Lance was remaining exceptionally professional.
“Okay,” Lance said, keeping his voice somewhat low due to their close proximity. “First things first. Typically, there are ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles in ballroom. The male leads and the female follows. Here at Altea, we do things a tiny bit differently. Gender has nothing to do with if you lead or follow in a dance. Even if you’re in a mixed pair anyone can lead or follow. In our lessons, I’ll start with leading to show you the steps and then half way through we’ll switch so that you’re leading. It’s important to learn both; can’t lead very well if you don’t know what it’s like to follow and vice versa! Some people end up having a preference for leading or following and that’s totally cool. If you end up doing any of the group classes, most instructors will likely ask ‘lead or follow’. Eventually, if you keep up the practice, you’ll be able to pick up what it is your partner wants to do without having to ask, though I guess it's the polite thing to do with any new partner.”
Keith nodded. “Okay, I guess that makes sense.”
“Great!” Lance adjusted his hold on Keith’s hand. “Moving on. The position we’re currently standing in is called a ‘closed position’. We’re actually standing a little further apart than what you would if you were in a competition or dancing with a partner, but that’s okay. Boundaries and all that are fine. It’s a little harder to lead with more space between dancers but it’s nothing too bad. We’ll just do a couple of forward and backward steps to get you used to the closed position.”
Slowly, Lance pushed against Keith’s hand gently urging him back as he took a step forward with his left leg. Not having any sort of dancing background or knowledge meant that Keith was a few seconds behind, but eventually he caught on and stepped back with his right. Lance continued forward, sliding his right foot up to be in line with his left before taking another step forward with his right foot and sliding his left up. The whole movement was slow, over exaggerated so that Keith could easily feel Lance pushing and guiding him along. Then Lance started the same set of steps in reverse, this time pulling Keith along with him, rather than pushing.
“How did you find that?”
Keith frowned. “Aside from the fact that I don’t know any steps, I guess it was kind of hard to know what you wanted me to do because I couldn’t really feel where you were going to step? Like, I could tell you wanted me to go backwards because you were pushing my hands and upper body, but I had no idea what the hell to do with my feet.”
Lance nodded. “That’s because there’s no contact, though knowing the steps helps. Of course, if you’re just doing social dancing then it doesn’t matter what you know because there’s no set sequence of steps, just patterns. What matters is how you lead and how good your partner is at picking up cues.”
“It’s easier to pick up cues if you’re following when you’re standing closer?”
“For some dances, yes. Not only can you guide someone with your hands and upper body, you can use your hips and legs as well.”
“Yeah?”
He had seen Shiro and Allura dancing hip to hip, but Keith had always figured it was because they were a couple. He didn’t think that there had been any technical reason for it.
“Can I show you?” Lance asked.
Keith did his best to shrug. It ended up being just a tiny raise of his shoulders towards his ears because of his current posture. “Sure.”
Lance stepped forward and Keith leaned away a little. Lance was getting close.
Lance laughed. “You’re supposed to stay where you are, Mullet-man.”
“Sorry.” He fought down a blush as Lance tried again, stepping forward and to the left a little.
Lance held Keith in place so he wouldn’t lean away again as he shifted, bringing his right hip and thigh up against Keith’s left side. Although their hips and legs were touching, their chests and shoulders remained apart, their backs creating a nice arch.
Much like before, Lance stepped forward slowly, gently urging Keith back. This time, Keith stepped back almost in time with Lance, not only because he knew the steps he needed to do, but also because it was hard not to with so much of the other man guiding him in that direction.
“As I said though,” Lance said as they stepped forward and back, “You usually see this sort of closed position in competition or between couples or dancers that are comfortable with one another.”
He finished their steps and then took a half step back, putting some more distance between them.
“I could tell the difference though,” Keith said. "I think."
Lance grinned. “We’ll make a ballroom dancer out of you yet, Mullet-man. Now onto some real dancing. We’re going to learn the box step, one of the basic building blocks for the waltz. After that we can add some pizzaz!”
Keith stared at Lance, who was beaming and half-flailing his arms about whilst Keith remained in his hold.
“Pizzaz?”
“Yeah!” Lance beamed. “Like twirls and bends and slides and stuff. Things that make your performance go boom!”
Lance enunciated his point by dragging Keith into a half twirl before lowering him into a dip. He laughed as Keith screeched, his hands gripping on tightly to his instructor.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“Aww, don’t be a downer,” Lance pulled Keith up straight and into position again. “Dips are fun.”
“For you maybe.”
“Eh, you might change your mind when you get to lead. But I got distracted. The box step!”
It took ten minutes of Lance explaining the steps and then showing Keith separately what the steps were before he could even attempt them being in a pair. Keith kept his eyes downcast, too busy watching their feet as he awkwardly stepped back with his right leg, out to the side with his left and then closing his right foot to his left. The movements were simple enough: front, side, together. Back, side, together. But for some reason it was so difficult to stick! Keith kept muddling up which foot to step back with which resulted in Lance chuckling softly, slowing his steps right down and gently reminding him which leg to step with.
“Right, side, together. Left, side, together... That’s great!”
Keith wanted to tell Lance to stop being patronising, but he could tell that for some unfathomable reason, Lance really was just encouraging him. He honestly did think that Keith was doing a good job, despite having to go through the steps so slowly over and over again and being reminded which foot to step with.
It was infuriating and at the same time endearing.
At some point, Lance threw in a slight turn to the left, so they were dancing in a weird box that kind of also circled around the room. Lance explained that in a Waltz you didn't just dance in a square in the one spot. The left turn as you followed the box step pattern helped you move around the dance floor. Just as Keith was finally getting the hang of it, Lance suggested that Keith should try leading.
Suddenly, everything that he had gone over in the past half an hour was virtually forgotten. It was hard enough to know what feet to step with when following, but now that he was leading he had to do it all backwards. Or, forwards, Keith supposed. It didn’t take long to realise that leading was just as difficult as following. He needed to make sure he confidently knew all the steps and he needed to make sure his posture was straight and tall because he was the one holding them up, not Lance. On more than one occasion, Lance softly chided Keith for his lazy posture saying that waltzes only look beautiful if your posture is beautiful too. He needed to make sure he didn’t take too long of a stride (though with Lance’s long legs it wasn’t too much of an issue), or step on Lance’s feet. He needed to watch where he was going and he needed to make sure he could safely direct Lance around the floor without running into anything.
Although Keith thought he wasn’t doing a completely awful job of leading, he had a sneaking suspicion that although Lance was technically following, he was secretly leading, gently pulling Keith along. He could feel Lance’s gently step backwards a split second before Keith’s forward step, a subtle push against Keith’s palm as the pair danced.
The time ticked by and, despite his apprehension at the start of the lesson, Keith was surprised to realise he was enjoying it. He was still unsure of his steps but apparently that was unsurprising. Lance didn’t seem to mind that Keith spent most of the time looking at the floor rather than at him, he didn’t seem to mind the way Keith's legs stumbled when he was too slow picking up on Lance’s subtle lead or when he stepped forward with the wrong leg.
The sound of the doors being pushed open startled Keith and he looked over towards the entrance. People for the next class were starting to come in and he looked to Lance anxiously, not really wanting to continue when people were watching.
“Looks like that’s our cue to end things there for this week.”
“Yeah...”
After almost a solid hour in Lance’s embrace (could it even be called that?) it felt odd when he released his hold on Keith, stepping back with a hint of a smile and heading over to where his phone was. Keith picked up his bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder as Lance appeared at his side, startling him. Lance’s grin was mischievous as he leaned closer to Keith so only he could hear.
“So... did I sweep you off your feet?”
Keith looked Lance right in those pretty blue eyes of his and didn’t blink once.
“No.”
He could barely keep the smirk from his face as Lance screeched, pointing at Keith’s retreating back as he walked through the doors.
For Lance, the end of the morning classes couldn’t come fast enough. He had wanted to storm out of the building after Mullet-man’s lesson, he wanted to point and yell and screech at him for his ineptitude. How couldn’t Keith see that Lance was an amazing teacher? How could Keith not have been swept away by Lance’s gentle guidance and quiet words of encouragement?
How could he say ‘No’ so resolutely without flinching?
How?!
“Pidge!” Lance yelled down the phone once his morning classes had finished. A certain fun-sized someone needed to explain themselves. A few passers by on the street cast a concerned glance in his direction as he walked.
“Yes?” Pidge couldn’t keep the knowing grin from their face as they drawled. They knew exactly what Lance was calling about. To be honest, they had been expecting the call earlier but Hunk must have either took Lance’s phone away from him or the next class was too close to starting.
They liked to think that the next class was too close to starting because then they could tease Lance about it later.
“What the quiznak was that?!” Although he was on the phone, his arms and hands flapped about gesturing wildly.
They feigned ignorance and sat up on their lounge as Lance spoke. “What the quiznak was what?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Pidge.”
Pidge laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t call sooner.”
“Class was starting,” Lance mumbled.
Another bark of laughter came down the line. “Ha! Your class with Keith went overtime did it?”
“No! Maybe. Shut up, Pidge. You should have warned me!”
Pidge looked at their nails, cleaning dirt from under them as they waited to reply to Lance. “Warned you about what?”
Lance gave a frustrated growl. They should have warned him that Keith was someone who should have been left behind in the 80’s? That he had a seriously outdated haircut that impossibly worked for the guy? That he had an adorable face? That he looked really cute when concentrating hard on something? That--
“He’s an asshole!” Lance screeched.
“Lance, what were you expecting? He’s my friend.”
“I am never, ever, listening to you ever again, Pidge. You said that only I could do this class. Why the hell couldn’t you do it? He’s your asshole of a friend.”
Pidge swing their legs over the back of the lounge, their back resting on the seat cushions. “But you are the only one who can do it, Lance. I’ve been friends with Keith since we were kids. It’d be weird dancing with him.”
Lance scoffed. “No it wouldn’t. I dance with Hunk all the time. You have other reasons, Pidge, and I want to know what they are!”
“Nope!” Pidge said gleefully, popping the ‘p’. “If you don’t figure it out before Keith joins us for rehearsals in a few weeks then I’ll tell you.”
“But that’s ages away,” Lance whined.
“So you’ve got ages to put that pretty head of yours to work to figure it out.”
Lance perked up as he approached his favourite cafe. “Aww, you think my head is pretty?”
Pidge chuckled. “Lance, everyone thinks your head is pretty.”
Lance all but preened at the praise, which didn’t come all that often from his small and sarcastic friend. He smiled in greeting at the girl at the till who had already started entering his order; Lance and the other instructors at Altea were all regulars here.
“Thanks, Pidge. I gotta go grab some lunch before heading back for afternoon classes. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“At the studio, yeah. See you, Lance.”
As he pocketed his phone, Lance’s brow creased, something ticking over in his mind. If this had something to do with the wedding, then it wasn’t just Pidge who thought letting Lance teach Keith ballroom was a good idea. Both Shiro and Allura must have thought it was a good idea too which was odd considering Pidge and Hunk generally took the beginner classes. It wasn’t that Lance was an awful teacher or that he didn’t want to take the beginners. Most people couldn’t tell from looking at him or interacting with him for any short period of time, but he was a surprisingly patient individual which was perfect for teaching nervous newbies. However, he was also very good. He could match Allura for grace and poise and could match Shiro and Coran for presence and strength. For those reasons, and many others, Lance often took the more advanced classes and private lessons. He had a keen eye for posture, stance and presentation. When choreographing their dances, the other instructors would often ask Lance for his opinion on their presentation, for tips on how to improve their presence on stage or to get tips on how to create a more emotive and compelling atmosphere.
Lance shrugged. They hadn’t quite crafted all of the choreography for the wedding dance just yet, but maybe they had asked Lance to teach Keith to make sure he’d be able to pick up on all the subtle details when they did start learning the dance? As he waited for his sandwich and coffee, Lance shrugged to himself. He wouldn’t bother thinking about it too much: he’d likely find out at the wedding after all.
Keith stashed his bag in the storage compartment under the seat of his motorbike and pulled on his helmet. He was surprised that his class went so smoothly. After the first bout of nervousness, Keith hadn’t really struggled too much with feeling awkward and out of place. Lance had been quite accommodating, not once making Keith feel anxious, which was odd because Keith’s first impression of the guy had been ‘egotistical douchebag’. Although he didn’t feel like his impression was completely off, there was clearly more to the lanky man than the eye could see.
When he pulled up in the driveway, Pidge was just walking up the stairs to the front door of Keith’s apartment block. They waved in greeting and waited for Keith to put his bike away.
“Sooooo, how was class?”
Keith ran a hand through his hair before taking out his apartment keys. “Uh, good I guess?”
The grin that graced their rounded face was devilish. “Just good?”
“Pidge,” Keith said flatly. “I can see what you’re trying to do.”
They blinked innocently up at him. “I’m not trying to do anything. Lance is a great teacher. One of our best, actually. I figured with you needing to learn choreography for the wedding, you’d need the best.”
It was a thinly veiled half truth, but Keith would buy it anyway. He had no reason not to.
Keith grunted noncommittally. He wouldn’t outwardly say that Lance had been a decent teacher, not when Pidge had been oddly gleeful about setting up Keith’s lessons.
“Aww, come on, he’s not that bad.”
Keith tapped a hand to his chin as he unlocked the door.
“What is it you said about him again?”
“I’ve probably said a lot of things about Lance...”
“He was an experience.” One that Keith was finding himself very much looking forward to seeing next week.
Pidge laughed. “Oh man, what did he do this time? You have to tell me all about it.”
Keith entered his small one bedroom apartment and kicked off his boots.
“What’s there to tell? You’ve worked with him for years, you know what he’s like.”
“Well, yeah,” Pidge began, following Keith into the kitchen and helping themselves to a drink, “But every Lance experience is different, so tell me everything. He called me up and said you were an asshole, you know.”
Keith had been looking in the pantry for something to eat when Pidge’s comment made him abruptly turn to face them. “What the hell for?! I didn’t do anything.”
“I think you might have wounded his ego.”
Keith rolled his eyes. “Is that something that’s easy to do?”
Pidge shrugged. “Surprisingly so. He pretends he’s all brave and macho, but he’s a pretty sensitive soul.”
“If he’s sensitive, then how is he friends with you?”
Pidge looked the picture of innocence as they took a sip of water.
“I’m adorable.”
Keith snorted. “As adorable as a porcupine with electricity going through their spikes.”
“Please, I’m at least an electric hedgehog. But honestly, the class wasn't so bad, right? It was fun, yeah? And you'll be going back next week?”
Keith gave Pidge a small smile. "Yeah."