Seeing Lance nearly every day, whether it was for a long while or a short while, became a part of Keith's routine. He expected to see him. And horrifyingly, he started to worry or feel a bit sad when he didn't. Lance was always entertaining if nothing else. The days where he didn't see him were now boring.

Keith was thinking about that when he showed up for the organization meeting. Shiro was answering phone calls from somebody somewhere. He sat in the "conference room", which was really just the biggest room they had in their little office full of a bunch of folding metal chairs and the rolling ones dragged from their respective desks and computers, and waited. People arrived slowly, usually one at a time, and formed their little cliques to talk about work and their families and sports games.

Keith got bored. He stood and headed for the hallway so that he could get a soda from the vending machine, maybe a candy bar. There, he nearly bumped into a young woman. She smiled as soon as she registered that it was him, and he feigned annoyance. Which was a harmless part of their banter. She knew he didn't meant that.

"Keith! It feels like it's been forever. We've been so swamped here lately that it feels like it's been three or four months, not just one."

"Shiro said something about that. The guy's been up all night. How've you been?"

"Good. Great, actually! Do you remember that pretty blonde I told you about?"

Keith was interested now. His eyebrows raised.

"I do."

"She agreed to go with me for coffee!"

"That's— that's great, Allura. I'm glad to hear it."

Keith would never quite understand people like Allura, like his brother, like Adam. They were so honest. With themselves. With everyone around them. Allura could walk right up to a pretty girl and ask her on a date, having no idea whether or not she would be open to it, and feel no fear. No apprehension.

Keith had never asked a boy out. He'd agree if the right person asked, but he didn't know that he would ever have the guts to make the approach. Men were often self-conscious about their perceived masculinity. What if he asked someone out and they were offended, even disgusted? He didn't want to risk it. Allura had no such fear of rejection.

He had also never told anyone that he suspected he was some sort of asexual. People barely understood or accepted what being gay was. And most people seemed to have no concept whatsoever of what asexuality was. What would they say if they knew? Keith had a feeling he'd be single for a long time, but it was nice to see Allura's confidence.

Allura, however, wasn't about to accept that as their status quo. As they walked to the vending machine again she went on her usual spiel. That she knew Keith was a hopeless romantic even if he didn't admit it, that she knew he would be popular if he'd just put himself out there, that she knew a boy who was just his type and would tell him that Keith was cute if he'd just let her. And as usual, he told her to give it a rest, though he laughed as he did so. Even if he wasn't ready to take the plunge, he DID appreciate the fact that someone thought so highly of him.

The meeting, while dreadfully long, passed without trouble, and there was good news all around. Allura dragged Keith to a late lunch with her. One of those tacky little places that had hoped to become a tourist trap and failed. She talked about her date for a while. Allura had a thing for intelligent women, which made sense because she was an intelligent woman. Some kind of scientist. Keith knew it had something to do with the coral reefs.

"And you?" Allura asked. Something in her tone made Keith nervous.

"What about me?"

"I didn't want to embarrass you in front of everyone else, but your brother tells me you've been talking to some strange man on the beach."

"Wha— he told you about Lance?!"

"He did! He says that you always sound irritated but don't seem to realize just how often you talk about him."

Keith grumbled, picking angrily at his sandwich.

"I don't know what else to talk about."

"I'm sure you could think of SOMETHING if you tried. But you can't think about anything else, can you?"

"Of course I can think about— lay off!"

"I think, perhaps, that you like him?"

"...Okay. Fine. He's cute. What about it? It's nothing serious."

"What is it that you like about him?"

"I don't like-like him. He's just... I don't know. He's funny. I don't think he's doing it on purpose, but it makes me laugh. ...Or, you know, chuckle. Silently."

"You like funny guys?" Allura seemed surprised to hear that. "And here I thought you'd like them tall, dark, and handsome."

"For the last time, it's not like that, but... I'm too in my head all the time. I like somebody that can get me to loosen up a bit."

Allura was delighted by that information. Keith had to deal with a half hour more of her teasing before he finally got to leave. He told himself that Allura was wrong and that he did not have a crush on weird beach guy as he, well. Marched right back to that beach despite not having any obligation to do so. He didn't have to do any manual work on meeting days.

As always, Lance was there, but this time he seemed a bit startled to see him. He was spinning around in circles like he was looking for something.

"Such a surprise," Keith greeted, voice thick with sarcasm. Lance laughed. It sounded nervous. Forced. "What's up with you?"

"I... am not entirely sure of what I should be doing next."

"You don't seem to know much of anything, to be frank."

"I am WELL aware of that, thank you very much!" Lance stopped moving and faced Keith with his arms folded indignantly. "But I do have my reasons, I assure you."

"Oh?" Keith grinned, imitating Lance's pose. "I've been waiting for this! Let's hear it."

Lance huffed.

"I am... suffering from a brain injury that has caused some form of amnesia."

"Oh, come on. You can do better than that."

"That is the truth!"

Lance went on to give Keith some elaborate story about living on a boat, out on the sea, that had crashed, leaving him stranded somewhere near that beach. He'd been left with almost nothing in terms of clothes and everyday items and only his treasures had survived. And in the process he'd hit his head on a rock and forgotten a lot of things. And, apparently, he had always lived on boats and hadn't known much about the world of land-dwellers to begin with.

Keith didn't buy that story, but he also didn't know what the truth was. He figured that at least some part of it had to be true. Even if it was just the part about spending his whole life on the sea.

"If that's the case, where have you been sleeping?"

"Wherever I can. I have spent the night in shelters, sometimes the oblong metal hotels. Other days I sleep on the beach!"

"That's... really dangerous. Doesn't that technically make you homeless, too?"

"Do not be silly. The earth is my home, is it not?"

Keith sighed. He wasn't about to argue with that one. Maybe he should have been more concerned, but Lance seemed to be taking decent care of himself despite his circumstances. He was clean, and he had never complained of hunger.

After a bit more talking, it became clear that Lance really didn't know where to go from here. He had all of the basic toiletries he needed and he wasn't starving or anything, but Keith knew he'd need some more things if he hoped to get a job, at least. The main thing he'd need would be a cell phone, but could he get a decent plan without an address? It was worth looking around for one, he thought. Maybe one of those disposable phones with minutes loaded onto it would work for now, so long as he could access the internet at a library.

Keith didn't remember agreeing to it explicitly, and he didn't know how he'd gotten roped in, but before he knew it they were walking side by side towards the boardwalk. It was a longer walk than Keith remembered and he was surprised Lance did so much walking all the time. He did have long legs, though. Maybe it was easier on him.

They talked about the ocean as they walked. Lance did, anyway. Keith didn't like to talk about it much. There was a part of him that would always love it and wanted to see it cleaned up and restored and another part that was terrified of it. He had nothing to add that wouldn't give that away. Lance's love for it was obvious in the way that his eyes sparkled when he thought about it.

They saw someone walking a dog, and Lance stopped them to pet it and to ask eight hundred questions about what kind of dog it was, what its name was, what it ate, what it liked to do, etcetera. He asked the same kinds of things that a grade schooler would. And then he asked Keith if that kind of dog "came in more colors". Which it did. Lance went on for a while about how incredible nature was, that it could produce so many kinds of things and somehow have them all be so beautiful. Keith hadn't thought about it that way before.

The two of them got to town right around when Lance was asking Keith what his favorite kind of ocean fish was. It was a question he didn't quite have an answer for, though he did say he was somewhat partial to seahorses. Lance liked that answer a lot.

"You probably can't keep up with a smartphone bill if you don't have an address," Keith explained as he looked at some store's selection of electronics. "And they're really expensive, so you might not be able to afford it if you don't have a job, gemstones and treasures or not."

"I am not entirely sure of what 'expensive' is."

"That's relative."

Keith helped Lance pick out a cheap but functional phone that, admittedly, looked like a burner cell that a drug dealer might use. Lance paid for it and was way too enthusiastic about thanking the overwhelmed cashier for her great services. Keith practically pushed him out of the store, informing the poor woman that his friend was drunk. Which wasn't true, but seemed less weird.

After that they ended up looking at clothes. Lance insisted that Keith try some things on too, and he tried on one of those biker jackets just for the hell of it. Lance liked it too much. As he was helping him adjust the shoulders and making sure it was on straight, his eyes suddenly became fixated on Keith's face. Specifically, the lower part of the left side. His fingers brushed against what he saw there and Keith flinched away from the unfamiliar feeling of contact.

"That is quite a wound," Lance mumbled, voice thick with what sounded like legitimate concern. The scar on Keith's face was the remnant of a gash that had been somewhat short, but quite deep. People usually noticed it. People rarely asked. He didn't let anyone see the similar cuts that existed elsewhere. "What happened?"

Keith pulled away from him and took up the jacket and hung it back up. He felt ridiculous all of a sudden.

"It's none of your business."

"You do not want to talk about that, either? What is it that you like to talk about?"

"I don't know. ...Stuff. Not me."

He left the store. Lance hurried to pay for his purchases (a pair of sneakers and some more socks, and a larger duffel bag to keep his clothes in) and run after him.

"It is not my intention to upset you—"

"I know."

There was a moment of silence, and then Lance sat down on a bench with the phone in hand. Keith sighed before sitting down and helping him figure out how it worked. Lance insisted that Keith write down his number "in case he needed anything". Keith argued that Lance couldn't provide him with anything because he was unemployed and homeless, but wrote it down anyway as Lance reminded him that companionship is also a service. One that couldn't be given a price tag.

Keith sent a text just to confirm that the phone was working, and then they parted ways. He was halfway through walking home when his phone vibrated.

Lance: I have figured out how to indicate facial expressions through the use of text symbols!
Keith: it's called an emoticon, everyone knows how to do that
Lance :)
Keith: that's a smiley
Lance: ;D
Keith: settle down.
Lance: ;(

Keith laughed. By himself, in the middle of a sidewalk. And he laughed again as he sent a quick good-night text before he went to sleep.