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Assistant: Title: something just like this
        Author: klancekorner klancekorner 
        Chapter: 1/12 
        Summary: Keith reluctantly becomes the counselor for the Red Cabin at Camp Voltron, a summer camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that his older brother Shiro has worked at for years. Already unhappy with the current position that he is in, Keith prepares himself for a boring, sweaty, miserable summer; and his frustration only grows when he meets the counselor for the Blue Cabin- an insufferable @ssh@l@ with a horrible sense of humor, a devilish smirk, an inexplicable animosity towards the Red Cabin, and a smile that literally looks like the sun. Needless to say Keith is really, really unprepared for the next three months.
        Contents: Chapter 1: red polo
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  Keith doesn’t have an aesthetic. 

  He isn’t too loud, or too tall, or too wide. He doesn’t take up a lot of space. He doesn’t wear colors that don’t match with gray or black. His wardrobe consists of black jeans and about five different colored v-necks, and that is how it’s been for as long as he can remember. He has always been neutral in his presence, not quite one thing and not quite the other, always drifting somewhere in the middle.

  All of that being said, as Keith stares at his reflection with a look of pure disgust on his face, eyes scanning over the polyester, firetruck-red polo and the khaki shorts, he realizes that there is one thing he knows for certain is not his aesthetic. 

  Being a summer camp counselor for a bunch of rowdy, smelly 10 year olds. 

  There is a patch sewn just above his breast pocket that reads, “Camp Voltron!”, with a little picture of an astronaut giving a thumbs up. The material is thick and scratchy, and Keith knows that it will not bode well with the burning summer sun that is beating down outside. He turns around and glances at the back of the shirt in his refection. In large, white letters, it says, “RED CABIN, KOGANE”. 

  He sighs in frustration. Being a camp counselor this summer really, really wasn’t his choice. This is the last thing that he would want to do, ever, in his life, but he accidentally let it slip that he was in need of some spending money, and his older brother Shiro wouldn’t let it go for the next month. Shiro is a head counselor at Camp Voltron, and said they desperately needed someone to be in charge of the Red Cabin, but all of the applicants didn’t fit the bill. Keith argued that he didn’t fit the bill either, but Shiro had just smiled in that strange way proud older brothers do and said, “Nonsense, you’ll be great.” 

  So, reluctantly, Keith is now standing in a small, wooden cabin that smells like sweat and dry flowers. He has a pile of ratty luggage on the floor next to his feet that probably doesn’t have nearly enough supplies for three months.The mirror he is looking into is rough around the edges, foggy from exposure to the sun, and covered in dust. Streams of sunlight peek through the lopsided, cracked windows. There is a packet of “welcome materials”, rules and guidelines, about an inch thick that he has to learn before training starts tomorrow. He briefly wonders why anybody would willingly do this to themselves. Why would anybody travel to the middle of b@tt-f@ck nowhere to wear itchy clothes and yell at a bunch of sweaty children for eight hours a day? He tries very hard to see the silver lining, but it’s a struggle. He really isn’t made for this. 

  The door bursts open with a very concerning creak that makes it sound like its going to crumble off of it’s hinges. Shiro walks in with a blinding grin on his face, eyes scanning over Keith in his new uniform. He himself is wearing the same polo as Keith, but it’s black and fits tightly onto his toned torso, unlike the fabric that is bunching along Keith’s waistline because he got a size too big. Shiro is also wearing a pair of khaki shorts, with his shirt tucked into them and a white belt holding them snug to his waist. He is beaming at Keith, his dark shaggy hair falling softly onto his forehead.

  “Look at you! Officially a Camp Voltron counselor. I’m so proud.” 

  Keith snorts. “Thanks, Shiro.” 

  “Did you read through the welcome materials?”

  “I started to. It’s like, really dense though.” Keith crosses his arms over his chest, ready to defend himself when Shiro reprimands him, but he doesn’t. He just shrugs. 

  “Eh, it’s probably better to learn on the job anyway. You’ll fit right in.” 

  Keith scowls. “Yeah, I don’t know about that Shiro. Also, I look like a twizzler in this d@mn polo.” 

  Shiro barks a laugh. “No, you look like Keith in a red shirt,” he says lightheartedly, ruffling Keith’s hair, “Now quit being so mopey, will ya? The kids are going to arrive tomorrow and I want you to meet the team.” 

  “I don’t wanna meet the team.” 

  “You’re gonna meet the team.” 

  “Can I take a nap first?” 

  “Nope.” 

  Keith sighs in frustration. “Can I at least change my shirt?”

  “Nope!” Shiro is grinning. “That’s your uniform Keith, you’re going to have to get used to it.” 

  “It’s so itchy.”

  “You sound like you're five years old.” Shiro rolls his eyes. “Come on, follow me. You’re going to love them.” 

  “Doubtful.” 

  But Shiro is already tugging at Keith’s shirt sleeve, urging him to follow. 
 
  _ _ _ 
 
  The camp grounds are much more simple to navigate than Keith thought they would be, which is good, because although he would never admit it to anyone he is absolutely awful with directions. There are five cabins in somewhat of a disorganized circle, all surrounding a small courtyard where there are a picnic tables, a fire pit, and a small group of chairs where Keith assumed meetings were held. A narrow path through the woods led to a small lake, a soccer field, and a recreation center where most of the non-athletic events and activities take place. Along the pathway, the trees are littered with ropes courses and team-building activities that Keith is already dreading as Shiro leads him through the trees, pointing to the “net wall” and the “trust fall station”. Keith wants to barf. 

  Of course, surrounding all of this camp nonsense is miles and miles of endless woods. Woods and nothing else. Keith is on a forest island. In hell. 

  The air is thick and humid, his shirt is already starting to slide uncomfortably on his pale skin, and when he tries to scratch it, the sensation just burns more. He can feel a thin sheen on sweat on his face. He is not made for summer. He burns easily and his hair is thick and heavy. He just absorbs heat. He takes a deep breath and wipes his forehead, it stings slightly. He is probably already sun burnt. 

  Shiro is still talking mindlessly about the campgrounds, and Keith really does try to listen, but the heat is getting to him and he just wants to lay down. He feels his eyelids drooping and he blinks rapidly, combating the dizziness. Thankfully, the end of the path is near and they are walking into the courtyard again. Keith can see his cabin, the sloppy, lopsided paint next to the roof that spells out “The Red Cabin”, and he sighs with relief, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand again. Just a few more steps, almost there. 

  “Keith, hold up! Not so fast” 

  Ugh. Shiro. 

  He swivels around, annoyance clear on his face. “What now?” He snaps. He immediately regrets it, because Shiro is standing at the fire pit, except he is not alone anymore. Next to him is a man with flaming orange hair and a handlebar mustache. He is in a gray polo and khaki shorts to match, and he is staring at Keith expectantly with one eyebrow raised. 

  Shiro sighs at Keith’s hostile reaction. “Keith, this is Coran. He is the director of Camp Voltron. Coran, this is my brother Keith.” 

  Keith falters a little, suddenly embarrassed for making Shiro look so bad. “Oh, uh. I’m sorry.” He bows his head a little. “Hi, Coran.” He walks up to Coran and extends his hand, “I’m sorry. I’m just not quite used to this heat.” He tries to smile. 

  “Not at all, boy!” Coran’s voice is boisterous and happy, his eyes squinting as he grins. God, is it even possible for a man to be this happy? “Shiro has told me a lot about you. Very excited to have you on our team this summer! We’re going to have a grand old time, I’m very sure of it!” 

  Keith laughs nervously. “Yeah…of course.” 

  Shiro smirks at his discomfort. 

  “The team is excited to meet you! It’s been a while since we’ve had a new member. There is definitely some anticipation!” Coran has his hands on his hips, his chest puffed out with pride. 

  “Anticipation?” Keith isn’t used to people anticipating him. 

  “Why, yes! Last year we couldn’t get a counselor for the Red cabin in time, and it was a dreary summer to say the least. Also, very busy! All of those kids had to be separated into other Cabins.” 

  Keith had remembered Shiro complaining about it last summer over the phone. Apparently the absence of one cabin was enough to throw off the entire chemistry of the camp, and it had really been a blow to the fun, energetic summer that Shiro had planned for his campers. He had sounded so tired.

  Keith feels a warmth spread through is chest when he looks at his brother’s smiling, bright eyes again. Maybe this would be the worst summer ever, but he would bear with it for Shiro. For family. 

  “Coran, is that a red shirt I see?” Keith hears a deep, smiling voice from behind him and turns around to see a large figure looming over him. He has dark skin and an orange headband laying across his forehead. He is stalky and has thick arms, a square jaw, and kind eyes. His polo is a bright yellow, but the smile on his face is even brighter as his eyes land on Keith. 

  “Hell yeah! Red Cabin man!” He pumps a fist in the air and then shoots his arm out towards Keith. His hand is double the size of Keith’s and when he takes it his whole arms is shaken violently. “I’m Hunk, Yellow Cabin counselor! It’s seriously awesome to meet you. You’re Keith, right?” 

  Keith clears his throat and attempts a smile. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you, Hunk.” 

  A small figure appears from behind Hunk and takes Keith by surprise. It is a short girl with a mop of sloppy brown hair and round glasses that take up more than half of her thin face. She is smiling lightly, rolling her eyes at Hunk. It is almost comical how different they look in size— Hunk towers over her like a building and is nearly double her width. She is wearing a lime green polo that is way too big on her small frame, and the way she looks at Hunk indicates that they have probably known each other for a while. She turns towards Keith and breaks into a grin. 

  “Sorry, Hunk can be a little over-eager at times.” Hunk scoffs in mock offense. “I’m Katie, but you can call me Pidge.”  

  Keith takes her tiny hand, smiling a little at the feeling compared to Hunk’s, and looks at her. “Hi, Pidge. Nice to meet you. I’m Keith.” 

  She smirks. “Yeah, I know.” Keith chuckles at that. 

  “Whats all the commotion?” A girl is walking into the courtyard with a questioning look on her face. Her voice is smooth like velvet, and even from far away Keith knows who she is. Allura. 

  It’s not that Shiro is obsessed with Allura or anything, except for the fact that he totally is, but Keith has had way to many conversations with Shiro about how there is a beautiful girl here who teaches the archery and craft classes. Shiro would moan and groan on the other end of the phone, saying that she was so out of his league and he shouldn’t even try. Keith would just roll his eyes because he honestly couldn’t really think of anyone that was out of Shiro’s league. 

  But looking at Allura now, he finally understood what Shiro was talking about. 

  This girl is stunning. Dark, shining skin, soft curves, silver hair, and glowing eyes. Shiro is seriously done for. He glances at his brother, who is already flustered by her mere existence, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the ground with a flush on his face. Keith smirks. 

  “Oh, a new counselor! You must be Shiro’s brother.”

  Keith can’t help the heat that spreads across his face when Allura looks at him. It’s almost unreal how beautiful she is, and he feels like he isn’t worthy. She places a warm hand on his shoulder. “Welcome, Keith! Shiro has said so much about you. How incredibly exciting.” Her tone is ernest, and Keith is smiling broadly before he realizes it. 

  Coran jumps in, still maintaining the same amount of excitement he had earlier. “So glad introductions have been made, however a lot needs to get done in order to prepare for the children’s arrival tomorrow!” He holds up a hand, beginning to count off tasks on his fingers. “We need to do cabin checks, head counts, and some event planning for the first week. Get ready for a busy summer!” 

  Dread pools at the pit of Keith’s stomach again.

  “Wait, where’s Lance?” Pidge sounds suspicious. 

  Keith raises an eyebrow at her. Isn't this everyone? “Who is Lance?” 

  “Blue Cabin guy!” Hunk is smiling down at him. “Tall, tan, and handsome? Super—“

  “—Annoying? Loud?” Pidge interjects.

  “Charismatic.” Hunk finishes, glancing at Pidge. 

  Keith lets his eyes drift over to the Blue Cabin. It is the only cabin with actual artwork on it. There is a large painting of a fish on the front facing door. The scales are holographic blues and purples. Shiro’s voice pulls his attention back to the group.

  “I mean, are you guys surprised? When has Lance ever showed up on time for anything?” The words are meant to be accusatory but the tone is fond, and they all giggle at it. 

  “Good point.” Pidge says. 

  As a group, they all start making their way to the rec center. When they get there he realizes that Coran hadn’t been wrong, a lot had to be done in a very short amount of time. They all break up into groups and run around the campsite, cleaning cabins, hanging signs, tallying chairs and tables, and making sure everything is in order. By the time it is dark out, they are all drenched with sweat, and exhausted. Keith briefly wonders how on earth he is going to survive the summer if he barely even survived the day. 

  They all gather around the fire put and Shiro effortlessly starts a fire. They plop down around it, muscles aching, with tired smiles on their faces. Coran hands them all water bottles and then holds his up, standing over them. “Cheers,” he says, smiling, “to another fantastic summer!”

  They all throw their water bottles into the air, cheering. Keith doesn’t, because he doesn’t really see it coming. It catches him a little by surprise, all of the happy faces around him. Maybe he feels himself smile a little too. Maybe. 
 
  _ _ _
 
  Keith walks to his cabin, thoroughly exhausted, covered in mosquito bites, and itching to take a shower. All of the other counselors have made their way to their cabins, and he can’t wait to feel the cold water on his skin, and get in bed. 

  He hears rustling coming from somewhere behind him. He freezes. 

  It’s not that Keith is scared of the dark. It’s just that, when he is in a place that is dark, he’s…kind of scared. It’s been that way since as early as he could remember. He remembers the rocket ship nightlight that stayed plugged into his wall until he was fourteen, and Shiro told him it was maybe time to face his fear.  

  He hears the noise again. His heartbeat quickens. What if I die? Wait no, Keith, snap out of it. You won’t die here. That’s ridiculous. But also possible. Very possible. 

  
    Crunch. Snap. Creak.
  

  Keith is panicking now, although he would never admit to anyone. He jerks his head one way, then the other. Just darkness, darkness all around him. The sounds are getting louder. Closer. He feels his heart beating in his ears, pulse racing, what if it’s an alien? Or a murderer? Or a giant mutant mosquito? Or—

  “Hey, who are—“

  Keith shrieks at the voice, turning on his heel and throwing a punch with so much force that he can hear his knuckles cracking with the pressure of it. 

  A body falls to the ground, hitting it with a loud, unforgiving thud. Keith is panting, eyes wild, and he scans his eyes over the person who was probably going to cut out his guts and feed them to angry wolves. 

  It’s a boy. A boy around his age. Keith can’t see very much in the dark but he sees long, wiry limbs and short shaggy hair. A thin arm is held up to the boys face, and there are small droplets of blood staining the sleeve that is pressed up against his nose. His eyes are seething. He screams into his arm.

  “What the actual f@ck?! Who the hell are you?”  The voice is loud, high pitched and cracking, making Keith jump in his skin. 

  “I—uh sh@t, I’m so sorry, I just— you scared me!” Keith stumbles over his words, pain throbbing in his knuckles. He holds out a shaky hand in an attempt to help the boy up, but long fingers slap it away, and the scowl only deepens on the boys face as he shakily stands up. 

  “Mierda, Dios mio, I think you broke my nose, pendejo!” The boy’s voice is muffled by the hand over his face but Keith hears another string of Spanish curse words spilling out of his mouth as he leans over to pick up his bag. Keith frowns. 

  “I didn’t break it.” 

  “Whatever, tonto.” 

  That just makes Keith angrier. “Who the hell are you? This is a private campground, get the hell out of here.” 

  The boy practically growls at him. “I know, hijo de puta I know these are private campgrounds. I’m a f@ck@ng counselor here.” 

  Keith falters. “Wha…What?”

  “Yeah! Been a counselor here for four d@mn years! Who the hell are you? I should be asking you to get the hell outta here! You literally just physically assaulted me.” 

  “I. What? No, I—“ Jesus Keith get it together. “I’m a counselor here too.” 

  The boy’s eyebrows pull together. “You can’t be serious.” 

  It clicks. “Wait. Sh@t. Are you Lance?” 

  The boy pinches his nose to stop the blood, and hisses in pain. “Yes, idioto. I’m Lance.” He lets his hand drop from his face, and Keith squints through the darkness, already seeing a bruise starting to form on the left side of his nose. He want to assess the damage but it’s so dark that he can barely even see anything anyway, so there would be no point. 

  Keith figures the next step is to tell Lance who he is, so he says, “Oh, I’m—“

  “Don’t care.” Lance snaps. Then he is charging past Keith, a scowl still on his face as he slams their shoulders together, before disappearing behind the other side of the cabin.

  Keith’s blood is boiling. He can feel is temper rising uncontrollably, as it tends to do, and if his hand didn't hurt so much he probably would have punched the wooden panels on the side of the cabin. What a f@ck@ng @ssh@l@, and he didn't even show up on time. How is any of this Keith’s fault? He shouldn't have been sneaking around this late at night anyway. Keith growls to himself, clenching his fists, trying to force himself to take deep, calming breaths. 

  He decides to just try and go to sleep, and attempts to push all destructive thoughts from his brain till morning. 
 
  _ _ _
 
  It turns out that morning comes way too fast. 

  A high-pitched bike horn shocks Keith awake, and he nearly falls out of his bed. He hears Coran’s voice, loud and tinny, clearly speaking through some kind of megaphone. “Up and at ‘em, counselors! Today is the day! Time to wake up and get ready for the kids!” 

  Keith groans into his pillow. He is drenched with sweat and the sheets are scratchy. His head feels heavy with fatigue. Typically, he is a morning person, but his watch says 6:00AM and his stomach is unsettled with nerves that he can’t quite explain. 

  Despite the early time, the sun is already high in the sky, sending hot stripes into the cabin windows. Keith can feel parts of his skin warming under the suns rays. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine laying in snow right now, feeling his hot skin sizzle against the cooling ice. He takes a second to bathe in the imaginary sensation. 

  HIs moment of peace doesn’t last long though, because Coran starts shouting meaningless things into the megaphone again and the whole cabin is shaking from the volume of it. 

  He gets up and scrubs his face with water that smells like copper. He brushes his teeth and tries to a run a hand through his mussed up, sweaty hair with little success. Well, guess I’ll just look like a freak on my first day. Fantastic. 

  When he walks out into the courtyard, all of the counselors are already there, standing in a circle and engaging in idle conversation. Keith wonders show the hell they all got ready so fast, suddenly self conscious about how he still had a severe case of bed head. His eyes fall on a tall figure, his back turned towards Keith. A figure that wasn’t there yesterday. 

  Hunk and Pidge are the first to turn around and see him. Pidge bursts out laughing the moment she lays eyes on him, and practically howls, “Keith, you are my hero. Is it true that you freakin’ decked Lance last night?!”

  Keith’s eyes widen. Right. He did that. That happened. 

  “Uh—“ 

  And suddenly the tall figure swivels around to face Keith, arms crossed against his chest, and Keith finds himself at a loss for words.

  Lance looks a lot different in the light. 

  He hears Hunk’s words echoing in his head, “Tall, tan, and handsome”, as his eyes drag over the boy standing in front him him. His legs go on for miles, leading to a skinny waist, broad shoulders, and a lean torso. He is wearing a light blue polo t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up for literally no reason other than to show off his arms, which are a soft, golden-brown that glows against the blue of the shirt. His collar is popped, which totally screams douchebag but somehow it is working for him, the light blue fabric framing his long, thin neck. 

  He is looking at Keith, scowling, and underneath the purple bruise that is blooming across his nose Keith can see tan, smooth skin, dusted with light brown freckles. Short, dark eyelashes frame his eyes, which are startlingly blue, vibrant against his tan skin. He has a narrow face, a sharp jawline, and high cheekbones. There are sunglasses perched atop his head, making his light brown hair stick out in all directions around them, some short stands resting on his forehead and some tucked underneath the lenses. His thin, angled eyebrows are pulled together in anger. Keith blinks at him. Then blinks again. This boy. This boy is beautiful. What the f@ck?

  “I-It was an accident.” He squeaks. Lance glowers at him. “It was dark! He scared the cr@p out of me!” Keith frowns and attempts to regain a fraction of his composure, only remembering now how rude Lance had been to him the night before. This boy may be pretty, but he’s also a giant d@ck. He turns his gaze to Lance, suddenly seething. “You shouldn’t have gotten here so d@mn late!”

  Lance takes three steps towards Keith, fists curling against his sides. “Hey guess what tonto, I’ve got four years on your ass, so don’t you dare start complaining to me about being on time.” He is baring his teeth as Keith, blue eyes clouded with anger. 

  Keith snarls at him, vision turning red. “You’d better stop calling me that.”

  “Why? It suits you so well.” Lances lips screw into a smirk. “After all, you did get the loser cabin.”

  It’s such stupid insult. It doesn't even make any sense, but Keith is fuming, and he charges forward, fully intending to attack Lance again, when he collides directly into Shiro, who has strategically placed himself in between the two arguing boys. 

  “Keith.” He says sternly, placing a firm hand on Keith’s chest. “Calm down.” 

  Long, angry breaths tug at his lungs as he narrows his eyes at Lance. The anger starts to dissipate from his vision and he sees that Pidge and Hunk are staring at him, eyes wide with amused smiles on their faces. Allura looks mildly concerned. Coran is standing very still, arms crossed over his chest. 

  Lance stands up tall again, smirking at Keith and raising an eyebrow at him. He looks thoroughly pleased that he was able to get a rise out of him. Keith growls low in his throat. 

  “Keith, quit it.” Shiro snaps. Then he turns to Lance. “Lance, watch yourself.” Lance’s smirk falls into a pout, and he turns away from Keith with a small “Humph.” 

  Allura is the first one to break the awkward silence that follows. “Alright cabin leaders, we have three hours until the kids start to arrive. Let’s head to the rec center for a quick breakfast, and then afterwards you can start preparing your cabins for the day’s activities!” 

  Lance nods forward so that his sunglasses fall onto his face. It’s supposed to look dumb but it ends up looking really smooth, and Keith looks away, frustrated. 

  “Let’s do this.” Lance says, holding a fist out to Hunk. Hunk pounds his fist happily and laughs.

  “Hell yeah. Good to see you again man.” Then he tackles Lance into a crushing bear hug and Lance laughs, loud and unabashed, face splitting into a wide grin. Keith drinks it up for a moment, the flash of white teeth, the two dimples appearing on the freckled skin, but then it is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Lance falls into step next to Hunk. 

  Pidge is walking next to Keith and giggling to herself. Keith looks down at her. “What’s so funny?”

  “I just keep picturing you punching Lance in the face.” She snorts with laughter. “He must’ve been so p@ss@d.” 

  “Yeah.” He actually smiles a little, despite the anger curling in his stomach. “Yeah, he was super p@ss@d.” 

  She laughs for a little longer and then sighs. “Look, Lance is a d@ck, and he’s super annoying.” She pauses and then says, “But he’s family, and we love him, unfortunately.” 

  Keith looks at the ground. He doesn't reply.

  “He has a way of getting under people’s skin.” She says, breaking the silence again. “But don’t let it get to you too much. I actually think you guys could be good friends.” 

  Keith grunts at that. No f@ck@ng way. 

  Pidge shrugs. “Or not, whatever.” But she is smiling.
 
  _ _ _ 
 
  The cars start to pull up into the parking lot and Keith has knots in his stomach.

  He’s not really that good with kids. He’s not horrible with them, but on a scale of one to ten he’s probably a solid four and a half. There is a small voice in the back of his mind that is whispering, over and over again, what if they don’t like me? 

  Coran has them each sitting at a different picnic table so that he can direct the kids to their assigned counselor and keep them al organized. Keith sits on the splintered wood and watches as the various minivans drive up to the courtyard, twiddling his thumbs and glancing around nervously at the other counselors. They all look excited. Keith can imagine that they know a lot of these kids well. There are probably a lot of returning campers that they have grown close to. Keith suddenly feels like he is intruding on something he doesn’t belong in. As sad as it is, he welcomes the familiar feeling. 

  “Hi.” 

  He is startled out of his reverie by a small voice somewhere near his feet. He looks down and sees a small boy, who can’t be more than nine years old, staring up at him with big green eyes. He has wild, untamed brown curls framing his face. “”My name is Leo. Are you Red?” 

  “Oh, hi. Yeah! Yeah, that’s me I’m Red.” It’s a little awkward but he smiles as kindly as he can at the kid, and Leo’s face breaks into a grin with a few teeth missing. “Yay! I found you all by myself!” 

  “You sure did, kid.” Keith hesitates for a moment and holds his hand out for a high five, wondering if Leo will actually give him a high five. Are high fives cool? Maybe nobody high fives anymore. Keith hasn’t been a kid in a while.

  Leo does high five him, getting a jump-start and slamming his hand down eagerly. He lands on the ground giggling. Keith finds that he is smiling too. 

  High pitched screaming rings in his ears and breaks his gaze, and he turns towards where the sound is coming from, which of course is Lance’s table. Five kids are charging towards the tall boy, dropping their bags and backpacks as they get closer so they can pick up speed. “Laaaaaaaaaaaanccceee!” They are all screaming, and he is grinning openly at them, opening his arms, and bracing for impact.

  The kids all jump and cling onto with a giant “oomph” and he is laughing wildly. “Hola, mis pollitos, Kevin is that you? Que alto, you've gotten so big! Jack don’t you dare— Dios mio when did your hair get so long?” Lance giggles and falls to the floor, the five kids still climbing on top of him, resting on his hips, hugging around his shoulders, straddling his ankles. He is still laughing uncontrollably. “Que fuerte Freddie, you might even be stronger than me now! Let’s see those guns.” Freddie, the boy sitting on Lances hips, curls his arm to show off his thin, non- existent bicep. Lance gasps with exaggeration. “I can’t believe it! Have you been workin’ out?” The child giggles loudly and pitches forward into a hug, wrapping his “strong arms” around Lance’s neck. 

  Keith is convinced that if Lance wasn’t such an @ssh@l@, he would be the most attractive boy Keith has ever seen in real life. 

  More kids start filtering in, exchanging teary goodbyes with their parents. Keith meets three more of his campers. Two blonde boys named Mike and Jake, and a young girl with round, black eyes named Stacy. According to Shiro, each cabin usually ends up having about twelve kids; six boys and six girls. The cabins themselves have two rooms and a lounging area where the counselor sleeps, so that the boys and girls stay separated. Luckily, the kids are too young for Keith to have to worry about…any funny business. 

  Keith can see Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro all gathering their kids into circles, laughing and reminiscing about summers past, asking about family, and using secret handshakes that strike Keith as way more adorable than he thought they would. It is weird for him to see his brother like this, so animated with kids. He realizes how much Shiro loves this shabby camp and all the people here, and his heart warms with the thought of it. 

  Keith starts asking his kid questions like where they are from, what is their hometown like, what are they excited for this summer. He never realized how much kids love to talk about themselves— they all started shouting their answers over each other, eager to impress Keith with their “kickball skills” and “super awesome sleeping bag”. Keith is giggling, his heart beating quickly in a nervous way, but it feels good. It has been a while since he has seen anyone this excited about anything. 

  They all stay outside for several hours, waiting for the entirety of the campers to arrive, and by the time the sun begins to set, Keith is standing face to face with twelve hyper, wide-eyed, jittery nine year olds. 

  “Campers! Report to the Rec Center for opening announcements!” Coran’s voice boom through the megaphone, and all of the campers are screaming and charging towards the narrow pathway before Keith can gain any semblance of control over them. Hunk and Pidge are running too, but Lance lags behind, only managing to get up off the ground by the time all the kids were running. Keith stands still for a moment, shocked at the sudden change in environment, the screams fading into the distance and a silence taking over the courtyard. Lance is standing a few feet away from him, dusting himself off. His khaki shorts are smeared with grass stains and dirt from being tackled by the kids. He is chuckling quietly to himself. 

  Keith realizes that he is staring and looks away immediately, frowning. He starts walking towards the rec center and prays that Lance doesn’t acknowledge him.

  “Hey tonto,“

  Of course his prayers are not answered. Lance is already jogging to catch up to him. “Nice group of kids you got there, try not to teach them your horrendously violent ways.” His voice is bitter, a frown painted across his face. Keith rolls his eyes.

  “I told you it was an accident, jesus, you’re so dramatic.” Keith curls his hands into fists but maintains his composure. 

  “Well soon, I won’t be the only one falling on my ass. Hope you aren’t a sore loser, tonto.”

  Keith sighs frustratedly. “What the hell are you talking about? Also, stop calling me that.” 

  Lance looks at him, the corner of his lip tugging into a devilish smirk. “Blue Cabin always wins, Red Cabin always loses. It’s practically in the handbook, perdedor, you are already a loser and the summer hasn’t even started yet.” 

  Keith growls, snapping his gaze to meet Lance’s. “Loses what? What are you talking about?” He spits. 

  “Well, other than everything, including choice in counselor,” he gestures at Keith with a disgusted look on his face, “Red cabin always loses the Voltron Champion Cup at the end of the summer. And guess who always wins? Blue Cabin. Why? Let’s be real. Probably me.” 

  Keith feels like a vein is about to rupture in his brain. His vision is spinning. God, this @ssh@l@. How does he manage to make Keith so f@ck@ng angry? He spins around and faces Lance, cutting him off so that he stops walking. Lance raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, looking down at Keith with a bored expression. 

  “Hey, fuckface, I don’t lose. Especially not to stuck up sh@t-for-brains like you. So I’m going to make you eat those words. Red Cabin is going got kick your ass this summer.” Keith is spitting fire, and Lance’s unchanging expression is just making him angrier. Lance just shrugs. 

  “Whatever you say, perdedor. Sounds fake, but okay. Also, you should probably stop swearing. There are children here.” He frowns at Keith. “So get your head out of your doodle, alright?” 

  Keith snarls, “My what?”

  Lance just shrugs again, a smug smile on his face, and starts walking away with an air of confidence that makes Keith’s blood boil. “Hasta la later, tonto.” 

  Keith stands in the middle of the empty courtyard, angry heartbeat still throbbing in his ears. 

  _ _ _
 
  The schedule for the first official day of camps is a lot busier than Keith anticipated. Coran wakes him up mercilessly at 6:30AM so that he could at least have half an hour to get ready before he woke up the campers. Keith practically drags himself out of bed, cursing every god that can possibly exist, and slips on the thick polyester polo and his shorts. He probably smells like sh@t but he can’t bring himself to get into the shower, because he knows that the second it’s over he is going to just smell bad again anyway. 

  He stands in the lobby, holding an airhorn in his hands. In about thirty seconds, he has to blare it and wake up all of the kids in the cabin. He closes his eyes and and sighs, breathing in the calm before the storm. Then he opens his eyes, blares the horn, and with as much energy as he can muster, says, “Morning Red Cabin! Time to get up! Everyone out of bed!” It sounds uncharacteristically paternal coming out of his mouth. 

  He hears a series of grumbles throughout the cabin, beds creaking, positions shifting. He feels for these kids. It’s so f@ck@ng early. “Come on everyone, breakfast is waiting!”

  The next half hour is a chaotic blur. Socks flying across the room, kids falling over as they attempt to tug their shorts on, toothpaste smeared on the mirrors, combs on the floor, pajamas strewn across the wooden panels underneath the furniture. Keith bounces from bed to bed, desperately trying to help the kids get dressed. Someone already lost their overnight bag. Someone is already crying about how their hair is too tangled. Keith is being tugged by every one of his limbs, in seven different directions, and he doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. 

  After thirty minutes of complete and utter destruction, Keith is stumbling out of the cabin with his campers in tow, and despite his campers looking put together, Keith is an absolute wreck. His shirt is untucked, his hair is a bird’s nest, he can feel foreign substances on his face that weren’t there when he woke up, and his socks aren’t matching. 

  He bursts into the rec center, his kids rushing past him to meet their friends, and he stands in the doorway, taking a moment to collect himself. 

  “Keith, hey!” All of the counselors are sitting at a round table. Hunk waves him over with a big grin on his face. “Come have some breakfast!” 

  Keith collapses at the table and puts his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. He hears Shrio laugh next to him and Allura joins him. When he takes his hands off his face, Lance is smirking at him from across the table. 

  “One morning already too much for you? What a shame.” He says to Keith, tauntingly. 

  “Shut up.” Keith drawls, too tired to deal with Lance’s sh@t. 

  “You’ve got a little toothpaste on your face.” He hears the smile in Pidge’s voice. A blush colors his cheeks and he looks at Shiro, hoping the panic isn’t too evident in his eyes. He sends a silent help me please in his brother’s direction. 

  Shiro laughs louder this time and smudges the toothpaste off of Keith’s cheek, then ruffles his hair. “First morning is always the hardest, Keith. Don’t get discouraged.”

  Keith glances at Lance and he is looking at him strangely, but then something snaps in his expression and it twists into a frown again, looking away. 

  Keith groans. “I didn’t even know someone could make that big of a mess brushing their teeth.” 

  Hunk smiles. “Dude, you’ve got so much to learn.”'
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