(DANCER AU)

Keith was no social butterfly. His routine at the academy was simple: show up, practice, leave. He didn’t dance to impress anyone — he danced to escape. Choreography was where he thrived, where everything else faded. But freestyle? That’s where he faltered. The moment he had to improvise, he froze.

He didn’t care about Regionals or Nationals. He didn’t need a trophy to prove he could dance. But when Lance — arrogant, smug Lance — asked if he was auditioning for Regionals, Keith couldn’t say no. Not with that challenge hiding behind his grin.

The day of auditions, Keith woke up with a weird buzz in his chest — excitement, maybe. Nerves, definitely. He showed up and waited. Waited for the reason he was really there. But Lance never came.

Keith stared at the door, frowned, and left. Not because Lance wasn’t there. That’d be stupid. He left because... he wanted to. He didn’t owe anyone a performance.

Lance, meanwhile, was spiraling. He begged Coran — who he was on good terms with — for another shot. He wanted this. Regionals. Nationals. All of it. But Coran only gave him a sad smile and a soft “Sorry.”

Enter Shiro — Keith’s older brother, one half of the academy’s legendary teaching duo with Allura. Coran filled him in, and Shiro’s sympathetic look turned sly. “Keith missed auditions too,” he said.

Lance blinked. “Wait, seriously?” A grin tugged at his lips. “That makes me feel so much better.” Then Shiro’s expression shifted — bright, mischievous, plotting.

“Do you still want in?” he asked. Lance hesitated. “What?” “Do you still want to go to Regionals?” “More than anything, but Coran said—” “Coran can’t,” Shiro interrupted, already heading down the hallway. “But I might have an idea. Follow me.” “Uh, Shiro? My room’s back there?” Lance called, pointing to the good old 4C.

“I know.” Shiro kept going. Lance frowned, jogging after him. They stopped on the top floor, outside Room 4D.

Keith’s room.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” Shiro turned to him, voice soft but serious — the dad voice. “Lance, do you trust me?” Lance pouts, looking away with a sigh. “Yes.” Because that’s all he can say when Shiro is using that voice. He feels like he’ll just disappoint him otherwise, and he does not want Shiro’s stern fatherly disapproval.

“Good, then come on.” And so Lance shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges over to stand a little behind Shiro who lifts his prosthetic hand and knocks on the door, pushing it open slightly and sticking his head through. “Keith?”

The response is instant. “Hey, Shiro.” And Lance stiffens. Not just because he’s actually nervous as hell to be face to face with Keith after blowing off the audition he made such a big deal of, but because holy shit Keith’s voice. It’s not the voice he’s come to know. It’s not dry or sarcastic or mocking. He sounds pleasantly surprised and genuinely… kind. He sounds nice, and… and holy shit, Lance was not expecting that.

“Can we talk for a minute?” Shiro says, pushing open the door just enough to step into the room.

Keith sighs—tired, slightly irritated. Definitely more like the Keith Lance knows. “If this is about auditions, I already told you, I don’t—” He cuts off when Lance follows Shiro in.

“What is he doing here?” Keith snaps, glaring at Lance before turning that same look on Shiro. “Why did you bring him here?”

Shiro doesn’t flinch. “Lance missed auditions.” He jerks a thumb toward Keith. “So did you. You both lost your shot at Regionals—as solo performers.”

“What the hell, Shiro!” Lance says, throwing up his hands. “That’s not exactly your info to share!”

Shiro just crosses his arms and looks between them like he’s laying out the final piece of a puzzle. “Which is why I’m proposing you audition—as a duo.”

Lance stares. Jaw dropped. Did Shiro just—?

“I’m sorry,” he says, sticking a finger in his ear and twisting it like that might reset his hearing. “I must be hallucinating, because it sounded like you said—”

“I did,” Shiro confirms, nodding. “Duo. Together.” “WHAT?!” Lance straightens “What?” Keith says at the same time.