Chapter Text
Every morning Keith wakes up to the smell of cinnamon, every door knob jingles when he opens it, the lighting in every room is twinkling, and the sounds of Christmas songs play all day in the kitchen.
Lance has every detail of the season perfected, from the flavoured coffee and cinnamon pancakes in the morning, to the jingle bells hanging from every doorknob, to the twinkle lights hung from every corner of the apartment, to their who Alexa under strict instructions to never stop the Christmas music from coming.
He’s created a winter wonderland in the space of nine hundred square feet. Lance puts more thought into celebrating Christmas than most people put into planning their weddings.
It makes sense to Keith. Lance is from a large family of extroverts who love to celebrate! This is his first year not living at home, since Keith and Lance decided to move in together at their one year anniversary (Halloween). Keith’s certain Lance has stolen all these decorations from his parents attic, but, knowing the McClains, they probably have twice as much decor as they need anyway. He also doesn’t know where that Alexa came from, but he remembers Lance’s sister Veronica had one…
The place looks beautiful and homey. It has Lance in a constant good mood. He’s always drinking eggnog (gross!) and humming along to Christmas tunes (when he’s not outright belting them out).
It’s actually fascinating to Keith since he and Shiro never really managed to decorate more than a plastic tree with some string lights - Lance on the other hand drove them out to cut down their own tree on his family’s farm! - and usually did that the weekend before the holiday. They’re last minute shoppers for gifts too, always showing up at the mall on Christmas Eve and separating to buy something for each other. When there’s only the two of you, Christmas isn’t a big deal. They each receive exactly one gift (because by the time Shiro became Keith’s guardian, he already didn’t believe in Santa), so Christmas was never about presents.
Yet presents are exactly what’s causing Keith’s anxiety now.
See, everytime he drinks his nutmeg coffee and eats his cinnamon pancakes, he looks into the living room where Lance has set up and decorated the tree to perfection. There, underneath that genuine piece of nature that they’ve brought inside, is a big ol’ gift with Keith’s name on it.
Literally his name. Right there on the card. Lance has already bought and wrapped Keith’s gift! More than that, it’s huge! It must be something really nice in there. It’s making Keith panic.
He hasn’t even begun his Christmas shopping (why would he need to start early? Because he’s buying two gifts this year instead of one?) Worse than that, he hasn’t thought of what he wants to buy Lance. He was planning on just going to the mall with Shiro on Christmas Eve and wandering around until he found something Lance would like.
But what if he doesn’t find something BIG enough to match what Lance has bought him? Worse! What if Lance’s gift is also expensive? Or rare? Or thoughtful? Or heartfelt even? WHAT IF IT’S ALL FIVE?
Lance is no help. Any time he asks for a hint as to what’s in there, Lance just wags his finger at him. “Not until Christmas morning!” he’ll sing.
Ugh. Lance is so naturally good at this holiday stuff, to the point where Keith feels less like a participant and more like an outsider studying Lance’s strange ways. He’s like Jane Goodall and the chimps.
No, scratch that. Lance would be Jane and Keith would be the monkey he brought back to live with him… Or is that just Curious George?
“Shiro, I’m freaking out!” Keith whisper-yells into the phone.
“Why are you talking like that?” asks Shiro.
“I can’t have Lance overhear me,” whispers Keith. “I’m hiding in the closet.”
“Oh Keith… I thought we were way past you being in the closet.”
“A literal closet, Shiro! Inside mine and Lance’s bedroom!” Keith shifts, pushing a blue shoebox out of his way. The contents of the box rattle in a very unshoe-like manner.
“Are you playing hide and seek or something? Catch me up here.”
“No, I just need you to take me to the mall.”
“The mall?” repeats Shiro. “I don’t wanna go to the mall. It’s full of Christmas shoppers.”
“I need to be one of those shoppers and it needs to be today,” demands Keith.
“Why?”
“Because it’s big, Shiro! Lance’s is so big!”
“Okay,” says Shiro, the disgust coming through the phone. “I don’t need to know the details of yours and Lance’s… bedroom life.”
“No, the present is big!”
“Present?”
“The one Lance bought me that’s sitting under the tree right now, staring at me and judging me!”
“Does the present have eyes?” asked Shiro, tentatively.
“Why would you even ask that? Look, can you go to the mall with me or not? I need someone who can help me pick a gift for Lance! I don’t trust my own judgement.”
Shiro sighs. “Why can’t we go on Christmas Eve like we always do?”
“No, I can’t risk a last minute buy! Not for Lance!”
“Oh, but it’s fine for me every year?” asks Shiro, sarcastically.
“You buy me a gift last minute too!” barks Keith. “You know what, you should be on board with this. You have a boyfriend this year too and Adam doesn’t strike me as a last minute gift guy either. We actually need to think our gifts through this year.”
“But last year you bought for Lance last minute,” argues Shiro.
“Shiro!” barked Keith. He’s so frustrated, he starts smacking the phone with his palm.
“Keith? What’s that sound? ” asks Shiro, his voice quietly coming from the speaker.
Keith lifts the phone back to his ear and says, “That’s me hitting you even though you’re not here.”
“Fine, Keith, if it means this much to you, I’ll pick you up after work.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Also, can you take a half day and pick me up at lunch, thank you so much, Shiro! I love you! You’re the best big brother ever!” Then he hangs up before Shiro can say no.
********
“You’re the worst big brother ever.”
“A little dramatic there, Keith,” says Shiro, turning down the next row of cars in the mall parking lot.
“You’re an hour late!”
“You’re lucky I picked this early. My job is nine to five, remember? I need my days off for fun stuff, not circling the mall parking lot.”
“If we’d been here an hour earlier, there’d be spaces left!”
“Wake up, Keith! It’s five days before Christmas! People show up hours before opening! There wasn’t a spot an hour ago and there isn’t one now!”
That’s when Keith spots something. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Those two have bags! They’re walking back to their car, follow them!”
“Alright,” says Shiro, slowing and turning to follow the woman with bags. “Let’s be real creepers about this then.”
They get the suspicious backwards glances as they slowly drive behind these women. Yep, they are not happy they’re trailing them, but it’s Christmas time. They know the deal. Then Keith notices one reach into her purse...
“That one has pepper spray! Abort! Abort! Abort!”
******
“I’m pretty sure that was a cart return, not a parking spot,” says Keith as they walk towards the mall entrance.
“Look, do you want us to go back and look for a so-called legal spot or do you want to shop for Lance?”
“You’re right,” says Keith, as the automatic doors slide open. Immediately they are assaulted by a wall of shoppers, Christmas music playing at full blast, and a lineup to meet Santa wrapped around the entire first level.
“Ugh,” groans Shiro. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“Stay off Santa’s lap and you’ll be okay,” says Keith. “Let’s do this! Break!” He slaps his hands together.
Out of habit, they automatically turn in opposite directions and start to walk away. It’s Shiro who spins back on his heels and calls out, “Keith, wait! Aren’t I helping you?”
Not willing to admit he’d forgotten, Keith says, “Duh! Follow me!”
*******
“You are not helping!” snaps Keith.
“Me?” says Shiro. “We’ve lapped this mall twice and you’ve rejected every single suggestion I’ve made.”
“Because your suggestions are bad!” says Keith. He picks up a package of Hanukkah socks from a nearby shelf and tosses them at Shiro. They hit him squarely in the chest, but do no damage.
“Fine,” says Shiro. “ You come up with your idea for Lance’s gift and I’ll give you my opinion.”
Keith opens his mouth, shuts it, then balls his fist. “I don’t know! Help me!”
“What’s wrong with this?” asks Shiro, picking back up the item Keith had just rejected.
“It’s a sweater,” says Keith, frankly.
“And?”
“I can’t get Lance a sweater for Christmas!” yells Keith.
“Sure you can. You just walk up to the register, wait in the long line, pay, take it home, wrap it - or more realistically put it inside a gift bag - and set it under the tree.”
“I know the steps for gift giving, Shiro! I’m saying it’s not a good gift for Lance.”
“I beg to differ,” says Shiro. “It’s a brand he buys for himself. It’s cashmere which makes it super soft. It’s the colour you said you like best on him. It checks a lot of boxes.”
“Yeah…,” says Keith, calming himself. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a nice gift. I’m overthinking this.”
“You really are,” says Shiro, passing the sweater over to him. It is indeed super soft to the touch, Keith can imagine cuddling Lance in it. “Now go pay for it before you freak out again. I’m going to look around for something for Adam.”
Keith wanders over to the lineup for the cash. There’s a good dozen people in front of him and the asshole at the front is arguing against a No Returns Until After Christmas rule. They have him step to the side as the manager comes out to speak to him. The line starts moving again as grouchy shoppers finally get rung through at the front. Keith holds onto the sweater as the line moves forward, bunching it in his hands. Why doesn’t it feel as soft anymore?
“Sir?”
The lighting over here is different, revealing that sweater is not the crisp blue of Lance’s eyes like he’d originally thought.
“Sir?”
It might even clash.
“Sir?”
And… is that a loose thread?
“Sir, step forward please.”
Keith snaps out of his head to see the store clerk glaring at him, along with everyone else in line.
“Sir, your purchase?”
“I DON’T WANT IT ANYMORE!” shouts Keith, hucking the sweater at the cashier and running out of the store.
*******
I’m still mad at you
So reads the text from Shiro. Apparently, he’s going to keep being mad at Keith for making a huge scene in the mall and running off. It’s like he wanted an apology or something. Though, he is probably in an especially bad mood because his car got towed from what was definitely a cart return area and not a parking spot.
Keith doesn’t have time for this. He’ll make it up to Shiro with a great Christmas present, which he’ll be free to shop for after he finds the perfect gift for Lance.
Speaking of which, Lance has already gone to bed, so Keith is set up in the kitchen on his laptop. Their kitchen is open to the living room so Keith once more has a direct view of the giant gift under the tree. Sitting there… Judging him…
How could Keith have ever thought a sweater could compare to that?
The mall has failed Keith. So what’s left? Online shopping.
It shouldn’t be too hard to find something Lance will love. He’ll google some of Lance’s interests, overnight something, and by tomorrow afternoon he’ll be wrapping Lance’s gift!
Easy peasy!
*******
“The internet is a cesspool!”
“What?” croaks Pidge, on the other end of the phone.
“Oh, were you sleeping?”
“That’s generally what people do at four in the morning. Like, damn Keith! I’d been asleep for a whole half hour.”
“I need help,” admits Keith. “With the internet.”
Pidge sighs heavily over the phone. “What kind of porn are we talking about? How nasty?”
“I’m not looking for porn!”
“I’m assuming you downloaded the wrong kind and your computer in infected?”
“No! It’s Lance!”
“Ugh. Say no more. I’ve seen his browser history.”
“It’s nothing he downloaded!” explains Keith, as he rubs his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m looking for a Christmas gift for him and there’s literally nothing online. I need help.”
“Oh, is that all?” asks Pidge. “Come over in the morning. I’ll hook you up.”
*******
Pidge still lives in the college dorms. Lance was their roommate until Keith snatched him up. Yet somehow Pidge wasn’t assigned a new roommate and has a double all to themselves. Keith suspects it's because they hacked the system and made up a fake student, but that’s the exact kind of skill he needs to help find the perfect gift for Lance online.
“So I heard there’s like a secret Amazon page,” says Keith, moving a pile of laundry so he can sit beside Pidge at their desk, “and if you know the URL, everything is fifty percent off and ships within two hours.”
“Sounds like a clickbait rumour to me,” says Pidge, typing on their keyboard. “I know a way better website to shop on.”
Keith watches as Pidge types in a URL and then a password and then another password… clicking away through more and more sites that require security. Their laptop starts to hum, overheating with the effort.
“Pidge… are you on the dark web?”
“Whoa!” says Pidge, reaching out and covering the camera on their laptop. “Be cool, dude!”’
“That’s not a no…”
“All you need to know is I’m about to hook you up with the best gift for Lance!”
“Is it… illegal?”
“The gift itself? No.”
“Good.” Wait…
“Lance has always wanted the Mercury Gameflux Two with the original power glove,” says Pidge, typing away.
“He does? I’ve never heard him mention those things?”
“He does!” says Pidge, very defensively. “Look, I know him, okay? We’ve been friends since childhood. You’re the one who’s new here.”
“We’ve been dating for over a year…”
“Ah ha! Found it!” says Pidge, spinning in their chair in celebration.
“Oh,” says Keith, leaning in to look at the photo. “That’s… unique looking. And that’s something Lance would want?”
“Of course!” says Pidge, already adding to cart. “Do we want it with or without a Kaltenecker?”
“A what?”
“Too late, I already added it and…” Pidge’s phone chimes. They pick it up to look at the screen. “It’s already shipped. It’ll be here tomorrow by noon.”
“Oh… great,” says Keith, still unsure. “How much do I owe you?”
“Five point seven Unalu Coins.”
“Five point what whats?” gasps Keith.
“You can pay me back in any kind of digital currency.” Without Keith getting any clarification, Pidge is already leading him out the door. “I’ll forward you the tracking number!” says Pidge, before closing the door in Keith’s face.
He stands there for a moment, staring at the dorm’s hallway. The realization slowly washes over him… he got Lance a gift. The search is over.
*******
“Where is it, Pidge?” demands Keith, refreshing the parcel tracking page for the zillionth time. He’s back inside the closet, hiding his gift tracking from Lance.
“I said it would be here today by six,” says Pidge over the phone.
“You said today by noon! And this site is in Russian and I can’t figure out where it is!”
“Okay, hold on. I’ll check it myself.” The line goes quiet. Keith awaits anxiously. He ends up rearranging the boxes in the closet to make more room for sitting. The blue shoebox makes a lot of noise while he shifts it, like rocks are sliding around inside. Keith is about to open it up and check it out when Pidge’s voice comes back on the line, “Okay, I’ve tracked it down. It’s in a shipping container on an oceanliner off the coast of Iceland.”
“Iceland? What’s it doing there?”
“Not much,” replies Pidge. “It’s lining up to be unloaded in California. You heard about the massive shipping delays worldwide, right?”
“The line extends to Iceland?” yells Keith.
“Keith?” calls out Lance from the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
Keith pushes open the closet door and yells, “Yeah! Just… uh, accidentally hit my nuts.” He winces at the excuse.
“What is with you and ball injuries?” Lance yells back.
“Haha I don’t know,” replies Keith, then into the phone he whispers, “What the hell, Pidge? You told me it would be here today and now it's stuck in transit?”
“What’s the big deal? It happens. We know it’s on its way. Just give Lance a photo of it in a card. He’ll forgive it being late.”
“I can’t forgive it being late,” says Keith. “Lance’s gift to me is already under the tree. I need something there today!”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Keith,” says Pidge. “This is the world of online shopping. If you want a gift today, hit up a store.”
*******
“You came to the right place,” says Allura, scooping up Keith’s arm.
“The rich part of town?” asks Keith, looking around at the bougie shops on the snowy street.
“No,” says Romelle, scooping up Keith’s other arm. “You came to the right place by asking us to help. When it comes to shopping, we should always be your first call.”
“You were my third call,” Keith admits.
“Ah,” says Allura, steering him towards a boutique with a pink sign. “Well, there’s a reason you haven’t gotten Lance a gift yet. You haven’t shopped with anyone with taste.”
“I have taste,” says Keith, quietly.
“I’ve seen you mix orange juice with milk,” says Allura. “Taste is not your strongpoint.”
The women lead Keith into the first shop… and then another… and another, all along the street.
Keith is in hell. Every store is lit with fairy lights and decorated in pastel colours. He can tell these places are expensive because there’s barely anything on the clothes racks. The shelves are nearly empty and nothing has a pricetag. He knows from experience, that if you have to ask for the price, you can’t afford it and if there’s only three shirts in the whole store, it’s because they only need to sell one to pay everyone’s salaries for a week.
“I think this place is too expensive,” mumbles Keith.
“Why are you whispering?” asks Allura, holding up a scarf to the light.
“I thought it was museum rules,” says Keith, raising his voice to normal volume.
“Look, you said Lance has a giant package under the tree for you?”
“Dirty!” cackles Romelle.
“What that means is,” continues Allura, “he spent a lot of money on you. Big means money, so what you need to do is spend a lot of money to make it even.”
“I guess that makes sense,” says Keith. He is in a better place financially than last year. He’s got a good job now that pays enough for him to share the rent with Lance. No more gig work. He didn’t even have to pick up extra work at the carnival this year.
“It’s Christmas,” says Allura. “Splurge a little!”
That’s easy for her to say. Daddy still pays her credit card bills, but if Keith pays for this himself, it’ll be a gesture which shows his love for Lance.
“Okay,” says Keith. “What should I get him? Money is no object.”
******
“A personalized cologne is the perfect gift!” gushes Romelle.
“Are you sure?” asks Keith. They’ve spent the past hour in this stinky shop picking out scents that supposedly remind Keith of Lance, though Allura seems to be the one making a lot of the judgment calls, since it was all so overwhelming to him.
“Of course,” says Romelle, holding up the tiny vial of the scent they’d created. “Look how tiny it is! That’s luxury right there!”
Keith looks to Allura. “I thought you said big means money? How can tiny mean luxury?”
Allura scoffs. “Both are true. Only medium sized gifts are cheap.”
“This is all very confusing.”
“That’s why we’re here to guide you,” says Allura, placing a reassuring hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Plus the bottle is sparkly!”
“Sparkly is good?”
“Very good,” says Romelle.
“Alright,” says the shop clerk with the asymmetrical hair. “That’ll be three-forty-nine. Do you want gift wrapping for an additional ten percent?”
“Of course,” says Allura.
“Wait… three dollars and forty-nine cents?” asks Keith.
Allura, Romelle, and the store clerk all begin tittering with laughter. When Keith doesn’t join in, Allura frowns and says, “Oh Keith, we already discussed this. Lance is worth a splurge.”
“Yeah…,” says Keith, weakly nodding his head. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out that fancy credit card Shiro made him promise to only use for emergencies (like if his usual credit card is maxed out.) “Yeah…”
Lance is worth a splurge… if it’s something he really wants and why wouldn’t Lance want a signature scent? The same Lance who uses licorice as straws and has dressed as Luigi for the past two Halloweens in a row… That’s a fancy man, right?
“Sir, your credit card?” says the sales clerk. She’s got her hand on it, but Keith can’t seem to release his grip and let her have it. “Sir?”
“I DON’T WANT IT ANY MORE!” yells Keith, tearing his credit card back.
The next few moments are a blur of twinkle lights and the horrified faces of rich customers as Keith shoves his way to the door.
Behind him he hears Romelle yell, “It was custom made, Keith! You have to buy it!” But a moment later he’s through the door and hyperventilating in the cold winter air.
*******
“Hunk?”
“Keith? What are you doing up so early? It’s not even six am.”
“Yeah, I’m not sleeping much lately…” Keith is back in the closet again since Lance is up early making another amazing Christmassy breakfast and he doesn’t want him to overhear this convo. “Listen, can I come to work with you?”
“Sure… why?”
“Friendship reasons…” They’ve been friends for over a year now and Hunk questions why he wants to spend time with him?
“It doesn’t have anything to do with Allura and Romelle being pissed at you, does it?”
“Okay, fine! They’re out for blood and it’s better if I’m not home for them to find me today.”
“Say no more,” says Hunk. “I’ll swing by and pick you up. You can hangout at the market while I bake.”
Keith has a second motive for wanting to go to work with Hunk. It’s the only place left in town that he can think of to shop. Maybe the Farmer’s Market is mostly crunchy granola gifts like organic hemp soap or old lady gifts like knitted tea cozies shaped like frogs, but there’s got to be one, handmade, thoughtful gift Keith can buy for Lance.
******
“This place has nothing!” cries Keith. He’s returned to the bakery stall after a fruitless morning searching.
“I don’t think that’s true, Keith,” says Hunk, as he applies icing to a snowman shaped cookie. “Even from here, I can see a few things.”
“I meant nothing Lance would want for Christmas.”
“You haven’t gotten him anything yet?” asks Hunk, pausing his icing.
“No, and I don’t appreciate your judgmental tone.” Keith sighs. “I almost bought three gifts, but they weren’t… good enough. Actually, I did buy one, but it’s off the coast of Iceland.”
“Lance is going to love anything you get him,” says Hunk, reassuringly. “He loves you. And this is his first Christmas with a serious boyfriend. He’s very excited to spend it with you.”
“I know,” says Keith. “I can’t help feeling this pressure though. Lance is so good at this.”
“Well, he loves Christmas,” chuckles Hunk.
What Keith fails to elaborate on is that Lance isn’t just good at Christmas. He’s good at all the boyfriend stuff. He’s been the sweetest person since moment one. Well… no, moment one he punched Keith in the face then kneed him in the nuts, BUT from moment two Lance has been the most perfect and sweet person. If Keith could just make one grand gesture to give back a fraction of what Lance gives him, he’d be happy.
“My break is in ten minutes,” says Hunk. “I know the best shop where we can get Lance something I know he’ll love.”
Keith breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Hunk.”
*****
“It’s called The World in a Basket,” says Hunk, leading Keith into a stall near the back of the market.
Keith looks around at shelves and shelves of mostly jars. “It looks like jam,” says Keith.
“Some of it is,” says Hunk with a good natured laugh. “But it’s actually all gourmet food products imported from all over the world. And look!” He points at a label on the nearest shelf that reads ‘Slovenia.’ “They’re all in alphabetical order!”
“Oh great…,” says Keith, looking around at the hundreds of shelves. “...choices…”
“Actually, I had one country in mind,” says Hunk. He walks over and gestures to a shelf labeled ‘Cuba.’
“Oh… Oh!” says Keith.
“Yes! Delicious spreads to remind him of his childhood in Cuba.”
“Yeah,” says Keith with a nod. “That seems like something he’d like.”
“Plus they wrap it all up in a beautiful gift basket!” Hunk points and Keith turns to see the sales clerk wrapping up a jam-filled basket in cellophane and topping it with a bow.
“Okay,” agrees Keith. “That looks like a big present and I really want to give Lance a big present.”
“Yay!” says Hunk, clapping his hands together with delight. “Let’s choose what to put in the basket!”
They pick out guava jam and guava marmalade (which Keith thinks is the same thing, but Hunk disagrees). They get some individually wrapped coconut pastries and, what Hunk described as, a solid block of raw brown sugar. They get a pack of lady fingers, which are not real fingers at all. They also get some crazy looking hot sauce, fancy olive oil, and even some dried chilis.
They get one of nearly everything on the Cuban shelf including a tea called Cat’s Claw, which doesn’t appeal to Keith at all. He’s a dog person.
“Sixty-three-forty-seven,” says the sales clerk. She picks at the price tags on the products to get them off before she packs it all in a basket.
“To be clear,” says Keith. “Some of those are cents? It’s not sixty-three hundred is it?”
“No,” says the clerk, tapping the total on the register.
“Good,” says Keith. He pulls out his everyday credit card because it has enough to cover the total.
The clerk arranges everything in the basket to make it look appealing. She even uses tape to get things to stay in place. Next, the big cellophane bag is held open and the basket lowered in. She ties off the opening at the top with ribbons and uses the blade of the scissors to curl them. Finally, she adds a bow, then cuts the top of the plastic into a more pleasing shape.
“You can tap your card,” she says, as she preens at the plastic.
The finished product looks perfect… maybe too perfect. Like something you’d see sitting inside a fancy hotel room…
“Sir, your card?”
Or the kind of gift Shiro’s company would send out to clients at Christmas…
“Sir?”
Generic… polished. Food devoured within a week, leaving nothing but packaging and an empty basket. Nothing for Lance to even remember he’d gotten a gift…
“LANCE DESERVES TO KEEP HIS GIFT!” bellows Keith.
This time he catches the freaked out look of the clerk, before he’s running out of the stall and into the press of the crowd in the Christmas Market.
*******
“Babe, can you help me with something?”
Keith snaps out of his head and realizes the cinnamon waffles Lance made him for breakfast this morning have gone cold.
“Yeah? What is it?” Keith calls out, because Lance’s voice came from their bedroom.
“C’mere!”
Keith gets up and goes down the short hall to their bedroom to find Lance with half the closet pulled out and boxes and bags on the floor.
“What’s up?” asks Keith.
“Spring cleaning!” says Lance, brightly. When Keith just stares he adds, “Spring came early. Actually, I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging out in here lately and I thought I’d get rid of this extra stuff, so we can set up a little home office for you. Especially since the actual office, I converted into a walk-in closet.”
“Oh, no,” says Keith, embarrassed. “You don’t need to do that. Honestly I was… well, I was organizing your Christmas present…” He winches because that implies the present exists.
“Oh!” says Lance. He pulls his hands out of the box he’d been rummaging through. “And here I am going through everything. I’m surprised I didn’t find it.” He laughs.
“Yeah…,” mumbles Keith. “Good thing you didn’t…”
“Welp,” says Lance, brushing his hands together. “I will stop, but I do have a couple bags for donation ready to go. I was going to ask if you can drop them off when you head out shopping?”
“Shopping?” repeats Keith, the word itself triggering panic.
“Yeah, with Shiro. It’s Christmas Eve. That’s the day you go to the mall and buy each other gifts, right?”
“Right…” says Keith. He automatically bends and picks up the closest box, a blue shoebox.
“Not that!” says Lance, quickly snatching it back. It rattles when he does, like there’s rocks sliding around inside. “That’s sentimental stuff.” Lance places it back inside the closet and says, “By the way, my sister is going to stop by tomorrow morning. I know we’re going to my parents’ later in the day, but I guess Vero says it’s not Christmas morning without me.”
“So she wants you to feed her?”
“Yes and her girlfriend. That okay?”
“The more the merrier,” lies Keith, knowing he’s going to have more witnesses to his epic gift failure.
********
Christmas Eve…
Keith is so screwed! Lance is expecting a big, awesome gift to open up in the morning and Keith has bought him nothing… Except for the one that got stuck in transit, though he never paid Pidge back for that one, so he can’t even take credit for buying it.
At the Thrift Store’s side door, Keith hands off the bags to an employee in a vest. He walks back to his car, wondering where to go next.
The mall again?
It’s really Keith’s only option. Maybe they still have that sweater in Lance’s size… the one with the loose thread and the shade of blue that doesn’t match his eyes…
“Bah humbug,” cusses Keith, slamming his trunk shut.
“Oh, c’mon now, young man,” says a voice behind him. “It’s Christmas. Things can’t be that bad.”
“Oh yeah?” says Keith, spinning back around. He’s only slightly taken aback when he realizes the guy talking to him is dressed as Santa, holding a bell, and standing next to one of those charity buckets. Of course, the weirder part about the guy is the giant ginger moustache he’s sporting. “It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have a gift for my amazing boyfriend who I love so much and only want to be happy!”
“Hmm,” says the Santa, nodding knowingly. “Sounds like you’ve got some shopping to do.” He then nods back towards the store entrance.
“That’s a thrift store,” says Keith, bluntly.
“And?”
“That’s used stuff.”
“Eco friendly,” says the Moustache, brightly. Wait… does Keith know him from somewhere?
“Whatever,” says Keith, shrugging. “I’m going to buy him something new.”
“Sure,” says the Moustached Santa. He gives his bell a jingle. “I can tell that’s working out for you real well…”
Keith groans. “People don’t buy used gifts for Christmas, do they?”
Moustache Santa looks back over his shoulder and smiles. “Looks like there’s plenty of shoppers inside.”
“Fine,” says Keith, slouching his way towards the store.
“Just tell your boyfriend it's upcycled.”
Keith stops right beside the charity bucket to pull out a dollar bill to donate. He freezes, looking at the Moustached Santa from this angle.
“Wait… do you run the First Aid Tent at the carnival?”
“Not at the moment,” says the Santa. “That’s seasonal work. So’s this, actually.”
“But shouldn’t you be working at a hospital or something?”
“No, they shou me away whenever I set up outside the ER doors.”
“Aren’t you a doctor?” asks Keith, confused.
“No. Not even slightly.”
Keith drops the dollar in the bucket and walks towards the entrance, mumbling the whole time about how disturbing it is that someone who isn’t a doctor asked him to drop his pants two Halloweens ago.
There are no twinkle lights inside the thrift store, the customers are scattered about at a reasonable distance, and the music playing - though Christmas - is at a sensible volume. It’s good. He can breathe in here. He grabs a cart and starts wandering.
He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he’s always liked thrift stores, more than regular stores. There’s so much to look at. Interesting stuff too. Not just shiny, pretty, brand new things.
Before he knows it, his cart is filled with… total crap.
Without thinking he’d grabbed a Weird Al Yankovic t-shirt (4 sizes too big), a half dozen egg cups (none of them matching), a domino set with a hole in the box (so pieces are definitely missing), a Christmas dog sweater (they don’t have a dog), a Jason mask (strap missing), a mini electric keyboard (that likely doesn’t work, because how would he check?), a pair of red cowboy boots (even Lance couldn’t pull these off), a creepy clown figurine (definitely haunted… which is awesome), and…
“A shadow box?” mumbles Keith, picking it out of his cart.
He was literally in a trance and doesn’t remember picking up any of this. The shadow box is dusty and the paint is chipped. Otherwise, it’s okay. A decent thrift store find. But a shadow box is something you put a gift-like thing in. It’s not a gift in itself.
“Attention! The Store will be closing five minutes!”
The loudspeaker announcement triggers all that anxiety inside Keith once more. Panicked, he wheels the whole damn cart over to the checkout.
“Paper or plastic,” says the clerk.
Keith jumps back when he realizes it’s the same Moustache guy from outside, but the santa suit is gone and he’s in a blue vest now.
“Wait… wait… weren’t you outside? Dressed as Santa?”
“Why would I do that?” asks Moustache. “Except maybe to convince passersby to come into the store on a slow business day? Now, paper or plastic?”
*******
When Keith gets home, Lance is out. His family goes to church on Christmas Eve and Lance “did him a solid” by not inviting him along. That’s good, because it’ll give Keith time to agonize over the complete pile of crap he bought.
He stares at the bag for a full solid minute before feeling so disgusted, he needs it out of his sight. He goes into the bedroom and opens the closet to stash it there.
Won’t Lance be happy? He sent Keith out to get rid of their crap and he brought home fresh crap?
As Keith sets the bag down, it rattles that blue shoebox once more.
Okay, now Keith has to know what’s inside of it that makes that noise. It’s definitely not shoes.
He sits down on the bed and peels open the box. The stuff inside is even more random than what Keith got at the thrift store.
The first thing he pulls out is popcorn on a string? No, he sniffs it. It’s kettle corn and it’s tied off like a necklace. Not knowing what to think of this, he puts the necklace around his neck and picks up the next object. It’s an empty tube of travel toothpaste. The same bright pink brand as the one they picked up in Seattle when they spent the weekend, but forgot to pack toothpaste. That was their first vacation together…
There’s also a ticket stub from the carnival two year ago and an empty Twizzlers pack. There’s a strip of photos from a photo booth that they took at the pier last summer. There’s a rusty nail, which is a weird one. There’s also Keith’s old cell phone case. The one Lance spilt nail polish on when he was doing his niece’s nails.
At the bottom there’s another ticket stub from when they went to see Twenty One Pilots together. This sparks a thought. Keith gets up and moves to his bedside table. In the bottom drawer he’s got a few odds and ends collected, including a flannel shirt he used to buffer a gross ice pack from his jun. It’s got a gross backstory, but Keith can’t bring himself to throw it out.
There’s also photos of him and Lance from when Romelle brought a polaroid camera to last year’s New Year’s Eve party… It was their two month anniversary and Keith was so excited to have someone to kiss at midnight, though he tried not to show it. Of course, in all the photos he’s got the biggest smile and googly eyes for Lance. He was just so dumb and in love. It makes him so happy to know they’ve made it a full year more and they’re going so strong.
Under the polaroids he finds what he’s looking for, his own ticket stub from the Twenty One Pilots concerts. He’d wanted to keep it because it had been the best date of his life so far and because in the cab ride home from the show, they’d said ‘I love you’ for the first time.
Keith’s heart squeezes, thinking about the past fourteen months with Lance and how happy and exciting and scary, even, they have been.
All of a sudden, he knows exactly what to do. He goes into the closet and pulls his acrylic paint set down from the high shelf.
******
There’s a gift under the tree for Lance. Keith’s already had to stop Lance from shaking it once to see if he can guess what’s inside. It’s not even half the size of the gift for Keith from Lance, but it’s there. There’s also a dozen other gifts that Lance has beautifully wrapped.
“For other loved ones,” he’d said.
Lance is a gift giver with a gift. Keith’s struggled just to produce one gift and he’s super unsure about it.
“Should we open gifts after we eat or while we eat?” asks Lance from the kitchen. He’s laid out enough food for ten people rather than four. He’s also in his brightest mood all month - which Keith didn’t know was possible - and he’s glowing. Literally glowing. His sweater lights up.
“I guess whatever your sister prefers.” There’s a knock on the door and Keith automatically heads that way. “We can ask her right now.”
“Oh, that might be someone else,” says Lance.
“Someone else?” repeats Keith, pausing at the door.
“Yeah! The more the merrier, right? And on Christmas day we want to be as merry as possible!”
Keith opens the door to see… everybody.
“Merry christmas!” says Romelle, bustling in with Allura in tow. Noticeably, Allura doesn’t appear to be talking to Keith.
Pidge and Shiro are right behind them in the hall, each holding gifts. At that moment Keith realizes he never ended up buying Shiro a gift… Wow. He is the worst at Christmas.
“Merry Christmas!”
Keith almost has the door shut when he hears one more voice calling out. He looks down the hall and sees Hunk bustling towards him carrying a giant gift basket… the same gift basket he’d almost bought Lance…
“Hi,” Keith squeaks out as Hunk walks into the apartment. Hunk walks straight into the kitchen and drops the gift basket on the counter in front of Lance.
Lance gasps. “Is this for me?”
“Yep! Merry Christmas, buddy!”
Keith then stands there and watches as Lance opens up the gift basket he almost bought for him and gushes over every single product and how much he loves the gift.
That could’ve been Keith he was gushing to… He really screwed up.
“I don’t deserve all the praise,” says Hunk. “Keith helped me pick everything out.”
“Really?” says Lance, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist. “That is so sweet!”
“Open our gift next,” says Allura, pulling a tiny little gift bag out of her purse.
“It’s from both of us,” says Romelle, grinning.
Lance reaches in and pulls out the very tiny vial of personalized perfume that Keith had almost bought him.
“So cute,” says Lance, holding it up. “What brand is this?”
“Eau de Lance,” says Allura. “It’s your own personal scent!”
“Shut up!” says Lance, opening the top. “It smells so good! I’m going to get all ladies with this - nope! Just remembered I have a boyfriend and he’s right here.”
Keith pouts, but not for that reason.
“Aw hun, it was a joke,” says Lance, then he looks at Romelle and Allura and says, “I love it!”
“Keith helped us pick the scents to mix,” says Romelle. Allura rolls her eyes, clearly still mad.
“I got you something too,” says Pidge. Theirs comes in a giant box. “Oddly enough, Keith helped me with it too.”
Lance squeezes Keith’s shoulder. “Here I thought you hated shopping and you’ve been doing so much behind my back.”
Lance opens up the box and gasps, “No way! It’s the Mercury Gameflux Two with the original power glove! I’ve wanted this since I was a kid! What? And you got the Kaltenecker expansion?” Lance pulls out what looks like a cow figurine.
Keith looks at Pidge, confused. “I thought that was stuck in a shipping container on an ocean liner off the coast of Iceland.”
“It was,” says Pidge. “But nothing a few days and my remote controlled drone couldn’t remedy.”
“Pidge! That’s amazing!” gushes Lance.
“It was nothing,” says Pidge with a shrug. “I have a lot of free time since my ARG isn’t taking off. No one even got past the first cipher.”
“I’m trying, but it’s hard!” complains Romelle.
“What’s an ARG?” asks Shiro.
Pidge and Romelle laugh. “Okay boomer,” she snickers.
“I’m not much older than you…” Shiro hands Lance the gift bag he’s brought with him. “I got a you a sweater.”
“That’s an old man gift,” says Romelle.
“Oh, clothes!” says Lance, excitedly. He pulls the sweater out and holds it up.
“Gorgeous!” says Allura, petting the fabric. “Is that cashmere?”
“It perfectly matches your eyes,” gushes Romelle, reaching out to feel it too.
“Okay, okay,” that’s enough, says Keith stepping in. He doesn’t like seeing his two best friends feel up his boyfriend.
“Oh yes! Let’s do the main event!” says Romelle, excitedly.
“Yes, let’s see what boy lover got his loverboy,” says Allura. Keith is sure he’s not imagining the shadiness in her tone. She wants his gift to fail.
Keith swallows hard. “Uh, it’s in the living room.”
“Let’s go!” says Lance, charging towards the living room.
“May - maybe we open it later!” says Keith, pathetically as everyone else follows Lance.
“No,” says Lance, stubbornly. “I can’t wait! Once I start opening gifts, I go on a tear and can’t stop until there's nothing left but strips of wrapping paper and discarded bows all over the place.”
“Yeah, okay…,” mumbles Keith, coming to sit down in the living room with everyone else. Lance picks up the gift and Keith quickly reminds him, “No shaking!”
“So it’s not maracas?” jokes Shiro.
Everyone groans.
Lance carefully peels off the wrapping paper, while Keith squirms with anxiety. He can’t believe he gave up on four perfect gifts for Lance because he’s so wishy-washy and now Lance is getting a lousy thrift store find that Keith panic bought for fifty-six cents!
Lance is quiet as he looks at the frame of the shadow box that Keith decorated with childish paintings. Finally he pulls the paper free from the glass to peer at what’s inside.
“Keith…,” breathes Lance.
“Cash!” blurts out Keith. “I also got you cash! You can buy whatever you want!” He stands up in a panic. “Just let me get my wallet!”
“Keith!” says Lance more firmly. Keith freezes as Lance stands up to hold the shadow box out in front of them. “This is so… I don’t even know what to say…”
Horrified by Lance’s speechlessness that’s surely born of disappointment, Keith focuses on the shadow box and what he’d placed inside. The photobooth photos… the polaroids… the ticket stubs… decorated with the best of what was inside Lance’s memory box and Keith’s memory drawer. He’d painted the outside with orange moustaches, and Luigi’s gloves, and other inside jokes. The interior is lit up with a string of LED lights he’d stolen from one of the plants in the apartment that Lance had decorated for Christmas.
“I know it’s not much,” mumbles Keith.
“Not much?” repeats Lance. Keith finally dares to look into his face, his teary eyed face. “Keith, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me!”
“I’m sorry. I - wait… you like it?”
“I love it!” says Lance. “You have everything in here! You even have the kettlecorn hanging from the rusty nail!”
“Yeah, I didn’t… I didn’t actually understand either of those things, but they seemed important enough for you to save.”
“The nail is the one that caused that flat tire when we were driving to the park for a picnic.”
“Right, on our second date,” says Keith. “We had to eat on the side of the road.”
“Awesome date,” says Lance.
“I can’t believe you kept the nail.”
“Yeah, I had to ask the guy at the tire repair place for it. He thought I was crazy. Oh! And the kettlecorn. It’s the ettlecornkay from the carnival a year ago.”
“The tainted stuff?”
“Yeah, I didn’t eat any of it,” Lance assures him, “but I went back the day after I met you and got some just… as a memento. I also had the packaging from the Twizzlers we split.”
“I saw, but I didn’t put that in because it looked too much like garbage.”
“Good call,” says Lance, going back to admiring the shadow box. “What’s the material you lined the back with?”
“That was the flannel I was wearing when we met.”
“Aw,” says Lance, then he adds. “You washed the crotch off it, right?”
“Yes,” says Keith with a laugh. Lance leans in and kisses him on the cheek.
“This is my best present ever. Thank you!”
“So Hunk wins the bet?” says Shiro.
“Bet?” repeats Keith, looking to his friends who he totally forgot were in the room.
“We were betting on if you’d actually end up getting Lance anything at all,” says Allura. “Or if you’d panic and skip town.”
“I had faith you’d pull it off,” Hunk assures him.
“What’s the big present?” asks Romelle, pointing to the gift under the tree.
“That’s for Keith,” says Lance, shyly.
“Should I open it?” asks Keith.
“Um, one sec,” says Lance, taking out his phone. After a second he says, “Yeah, go ahead.”
Keith kneels down in front of the box and begins tearing off the wrapping paper. He pauses when he realizes the box belongs to the breadmaker Lance’s parents had given them as a housewarming gift (really it was for Lance because he bakes, but Keith still benefits by eating the bread).
“I’m guessing this isn’t the breadmaker,” says Keith.
There’s a knock on the apartment door.
“Right on time,” says Lance, standing up. “Go ahead and keep opening, I’ll be right back.”
Keith pulls the rest of the paper from the box. He removes the tape from the opening at the top, noticing how the box tips from the slightest touch. It’s crazy light… What could it be? What’s big and light? A yoga ball? Why would Lance get him a yoga ball?
All Keith’s questions are answered when he opens up the top and peers inside to find… Nothing. There’s nothing at all in the box.
“Um, Lance,” calls out Keith. “I think you forgot to put the present inside.”
The response is a Yip! which is confusing because Lance doesn’t say yip. Keith looks into the hall and the first thing he spots is a ball of fur barrelling towards him!
A fuzzy little puppy runs right up to Keith. He catches the dog in his arms and holds him steady as the cute little pup tries in vain to lick at his face.
“Well hello,” coos Keith. “Aren’t you cute?” He looks back up to see Lance leading Veronica and Acxa into the living room. “Did you two adopt a dog?”
“Nope,” says Veronica, sitting down on the carpet beside Keith. “But you just did.”
“What?” asks Keith, looking up at Lance.
“Merry Christmas, love,” says Lance. “I hope you like your present.”
Keith’s jaw drops. “I get a puppy? But…” He looks to the empty box.
“That was a decoy,” says Lance with a nervous laugh. “I obviously couldn’t wrap up Kosmo.”
“Kosmo?”
“That’s the name he came with, but you can change it. Actually, I’ve been trying to line up an adoption for the past two months. That’s why I insisted we get the pet friendly apartment -”
“Despite not having any pets,” says Keith.
“Yet,” agrees Lance. “But things kept falling through at the last minute and I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to get Kosmo until late last night and I’ve been freaking out the entire week, worried you’d realize the gift was empty and I didn’t get you anything!”
“Wow,” says Allura, leaning forward and resting her crossed arms on her knees. “You two are completely perfect for each other.”
“Yeah, we are,” agrees Keith.
Lance comes to sit beside him and pet Kosmo (though Keith would have to figure out if that's truly his name). Keith shifts closer and steals a kiss.
“This is my favourite gift ever,” says Keith.
“And I didn’t even have to go to the mall,” says Lance with a laugh.
********
BONUS:
“All these gifts are for me?” asks Keith, as Lance piles up the gifts that had been under the tree and drops them into Keith’s lap.
“Well, kinda,” says Hunk. “Lance actually asked us all to get you gifts for the dog.”
“But I didn’t get you guys anything,” admits Keith. “Including Shiro.”
“Excuse me?” says his brother.
“Oh wait!” says Keith, jumping up and letting the presents fall all over the floor. He runs to his closet, grabs a bag, and comes running back into the living room. He dumps the thrift store bag out into the middle of the floor. “Pick whatever you like!”
“What is this trash?” asks Acxa, then her face lights up. “Oh! Dibs on the keyboard!”
“Weird Al!” says Hunk, excitedly, snatching up the t-shirt.
“Whoa,” says Pidge, picking up the creepy clown figurine. “Please tell me this is haunted!”
“I thought I heard noise coming from the closet last night,” Keith lies.
Lance’s eyes widen like his training from Sensei Karen is about to kick in and he’s going to knee a ghost in the nuts. Keith quickly shakes his head to let him know he didn’t mean it and Lance calms down.
“A dog sweater?” says Lance, snatching it up from the pile. His face melts as he says, “it’s like you knew…”
“I’ll take these egg cups,” says Allura. “They look like real china. I’ll take them to my dealer and see if they’re worth actual money. Maybe even enough to pay for the very expensive cologne I was forced to buy…”
“Your dad pays your credit card,” scolds Romelle. “Stop acting like you were put out.”
“I’m going to take my Alexa back from your kitchen,” says Veronica, pointing. “That’ll be my present.”
“Oh! Oh! Red cowboy boots!” says Shiro, excitedly. He grabs one, but Lance gets his paws on the other. They stare each other down. “You can’t pull these off!”
“I can so!” says Lance, pulling one on.
“You already got a present from Keith! I don’t get anything?”
Keith looks at the last item left from the thrift shop haul. “Dominos?” he offers.