#i have a soft spot for red paladin lance

[callmelyc]

Everyone draws the kiss™ yk? So figured it was about time I tried

[autisticlancemcclain]

My Dearest La

Dear La

Lance,

I really hate it when you’re right.

I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.

…

I miss you.

You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad

The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.

Love,

Warm regards,

Sincerely,

Love,

Keith

———

“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”

The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.

“Yes, Blade?”

Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.

“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”

The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.

“A… favour.”

All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.

The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”

The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —

“As have you.”

— but his eyes are soft and knowing.

Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.

“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.

And yet.

“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”

“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.

The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”

———

“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.

“Grandfather! You’re well!”

“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.

She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”

He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”

“A letter?”

“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”

“Pass it along then,” he suggests.

She promises she will.

———

A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”

A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”

A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”

A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”

A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.

———

A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:

“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”

———

A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.

“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.

———

Lance,

I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.

Anyways.

Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.

Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.

I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?

I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.

I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.

I love you more than the stars

Love, and lots of it,

Keith

———

“Hey, Sedrit.”

His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.

She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.

“What do you want, shithead.”

He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”

“Ugh.”

But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.

“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”

She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.

“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”

———

“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”

“What for?”

“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”

———

“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”

———

“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”

“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”

“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”

———

Lance’s door slide opens.

“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”

Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.

“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.

You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.

He grins.

“What is that?”

“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.

This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.

“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”

When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.

———

Lance, my love,

I know we do not talk about the observation deck.

It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.

When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.

Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.

Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.

I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.

Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.

Keith

———

Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.

Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.

“Just — one time,” Keith begs.

“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.

“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”

For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.

“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”

Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.

Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.

———

“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”

“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”

“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”

“…I miss them too.”

———

Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.

You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.

———

My Lance,

I hate it here.

I miss you.

———

Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.

He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.

———

CLASSIFIED

FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY

BIOMETRICS REQUIRED

WILL SELF DESTRUCT

———

There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.

He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.

———

My love,

Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.

Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —

Naxzela.

It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.

I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.

I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.

Naxzela.

———

He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.

———

When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.

It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.

———

The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.

Soon, sweetheart.

He sobs into the half-burned paper.

———

“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”

———

Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.

He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.

“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.

His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.

Well, that simply won’t do.

“Lance, baby, look at me.”

“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”

Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.

“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.

“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.

He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.

———

all art by @mothmanavenue

concept from this post

[iybms]

Into the Shadows

painting + short fic

title: Into the Shadows rating: T pairing: keith/lance words: 712 tags: pov lance, bom keith, strong language ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520190

Lance is not unfamiliar with being pressed up against Keith.

It's happened in so many different contexts at this point now ― from being judo-style pinned during combat training to climbing up an elevator shaft back-to-back, half-naked ― that there's very little novelty in being pressed against him here, crouched in a dark corner of a Galra base.

Even if he wishes there were some novelty.  Some meaning, some comfort.  At the very least, maybe, a mutual understanding that there's some pleasantness about each other's arms, as a place to be.  That, even though they haven't addressed why it's pleasant and maybe don't want to yet, it is pleasant nonetheless.

There's a draw.  Something just a little bit magnetic between them that doesn't belong amidst Galra sentry gunfire and prowling footsteps.

The gunfire, in particular, is paused, as the sentries haven't spotted them in their small, dark corner, almost entirely hidden behind a large wall structure in their alcove.

Keith is on his knees with his blade in one hand, his back pressed to the wall, and Lance is tucked to Keith's front in a low crouch, his red bayard clutched at the ready between them in rifle form, the only dim source of light in the tiny space.

They are silent, nervous, and utterly alone.

Keith's free arm winds tighter around Lance's back, pulling him closer, more securely into the shadows as another wave of sentries passes by the hall in pursuit of their direction.  Keith blends into the darkness perfectly, with his dark hair and dark Blade of Marmora uniform.  Lance, by contrast, sticks out like a sore thumb ― bright, valiant, and shining with his paladin armor and glowing weaponry.

Once the sentries are sufficiently far away, Lance takes in a shaky breath, somewhere against Keith's neck.

"There weren't supposed to be this many, right?" He hisses out in the smallest breath he can manage.  "How the fuck are we supposed to get to the rendezvous point?  We can't even move.  We might as well just―"

Lance goes to do something, but before he can even decide what exactly, Keith's hand moves and Lance's heart stops.

And then suddenly, Lance's heart is beating frantically, because Keith's hand has moved up to Lance's hair, and it's weaved there, holding him close like a― like a lover.

"Lance."

Keith's voice is so close to his ear.  It's so soft, and so low, that Lance thinks he can feel Keith's lips.  But then, when Keith's lips actually do brush his skin, across the arch of his cheekbone, light and gentle, Lance thinks he's never felt anything ever in his life before this.  Nothing that has touched his skin until now has ever charged each nerve ending like a capacitor the way Keith's lips do.  Nothing has turned his whole body into an electrical hot wire the way Keith's trembling kiss does.

He doesn't dare move.  Doesn't breathe, doesn't blink, doesn't anything.  He's pretty sure the only thing moving in his body is his blood, which is all rushing to his face.  And he's pretty sure Keith can feel it, because his face is so hot now, he's on fire, and his face is still pressed right up against Keith's jaw.

And now that he's completely still, he can feel it at Keith's neck, pressed against the back of his hand:  Keith's heartbeat.

Wild, uneven.  Terrified.

"Please," Keith breathes, into Lance's skin.  "We have to be careful.  I don't want―" He bites off some doomed predicate that Lance will never know.  "We can wait, for the others to get to us.  If you don't have any other ideas."

Everything between them and around them is silent and still again for a long moment, while everything inside Lance pulses and flies and whirls like a hurricane.  He considers Keith's lips, Keith's arms.  He considers Keith's impulsiveness, his restraint, his desperation.  He considers Keith's arms again.  He wants, he wants, so much, to lean into them.  He does, sincerely, try to think of another plan.

Finally, after what feels like forever but before any more sentries have a chance to scout, Lance releases his bayard, and slips his gloved palm up the nape of Keith's neck.

Without the rifle between them, Keith pulls Lance further into the shadows.

[ethereance]

In the mood for some secret relationship allurance.

When they get together after some intervention from the mice—the tiniest wingmen you ever did see—they don’t even mean to keep it secret, they just. Don’t make a big deal about it. Because this is a them thing, and they’re content with that. They’re not even very secret about it and it’s a wonder no one catches them kissing in the castle halls. But Lance is his normal enamoured-with-Allura self, dating her has not changed that, and they’ve been subtly gravitating towards each other since long before they made things official. So them continuously opting to sit next to each other, hands intertwining beneath the table, slipping into each other’s room at night for face masks, it all goes unnoticed. Except by Coran because Lance let it slip when he came to him asking about ideas for a meaningful ‘month-aversary’ gift. It had taken a moment for protective father mode to disengage, and a few words from Allura, but Coran is pretty supportive (and Coran maaay have a soft spot for Lance out of all of the paladins, not that he’s picking favourites or anything).

So here they are. At some fancy ball-like event to improve diplomatic relations, each of the paladins dressed in whatever altean formalwear Coran and Allura could pull up out of the castle ship’s storage. Even with several washes, the outfits are still a bit musty smelling, but are otherwise in pretty good condition for 10,000 decaphoeb old clothes (both the material, and the airtight storage helping with that). And Allura is starting to believe this was a terrible, terrible, terrible idea, oh so incredibly distracted by Lance in altean formalwear. Maybe he doesn’t have the ears, but it suits him well, blue quite simply his colour. In fact, she’s starting to wonder what she even found hideous about his ears when first they met.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to her, something shy in his smile. He looks at her with the utmost adoration, such an open expression that sends a cosy wave of warmth through her heart. Allura never wants to lose this feeling, never wants to lose him.

She hopes, this once, the universe will be kind.

“So do you,” she whispers back, watching as red begins to lightly dust his cheeks, his eyes widening.

“You think I—” He grins, boyish and giddy. “Holy crow. Sweet. Think I can keep the suit when this is all over?”

Again, a terrible, terrible, terrible idea. And yet. “Well I hardly see this being our last event.”

They spend the vast majority of the night away from each other, never far, but always caught up in conversation with the people of Cobraqua—their reptilian-skinned hosts for this evening—many curious about the exploits of Voltron, and some, more well versed in diplomacy, wanting to know what being a part of the coalition would mean for their home. Though he clearly hasn’t had the thousands of lessons of etiquette that have been drilled into Allura’s brain through the castle’s somewhat violent projections, Lance has always been good with people. An event like this brings that out in him.

So good, in fact, that the Cobraquelien Prince Bokar decides to make an announcement in the midst of the festivities.

“Father,” he says, directed at the planet’s king. “I believe it is in our best interest to accept their offer and join the coalition.”

And for that, Allura is thankful. The next part, less so.

“And you, paladins. Allow me to thank you for protecting our planet with the most prestigious gift my people can offer. If I may.”

He motions to one of the service staff who presses a small, black box into his hand. The prince clicks it open, revealing what from this distance appears to be some kind of ornamental trinket, a blue sapphire sitting at its centre.

“Blue paladin, I extend my hand to you, and ask that we bind our lives together with a romantic union.”

Now, it’s not like Allura is unfamiliar with being proposed to, once a princess of a planet of diplomats. A future throne to a planet with that much influence was enticing to many, despite it being common knowledge those of her lineage often found partnership with other alteans, and so it wasn’t unknown for nobles to nudge suitors her way during visits with her father. Often, she was left unimpressed, none of them matching up to the prince—or princess—her inner romantic heart had envisioned, captivated by the idea of a love so true, so magical, she’d fall for them the moment they met eyes.

But, just like her mother, she had fallen for someone who wasn’t a prince at all. Not even close.

No love at first sight.

Just Lance being Lance, growing into a person she can trust with her life, who’s so genuine with his faith in her that she knows he feels the same.

And somehow, despite such grandeur fantasies of love, what her and Lance have rests so dearly in her chest she would never have it any other way.

(One quintant, she thinks. One quintant she’ll be the one doing the proposing, when the war is won, and their future assured.

And maybe this can end better than any dream).

So, no. It’s not that Allura is unfamiliar with being proposed to, back then and even now, still, with Lotor having tried talking her into a union of them both.

But this other prince springs this upon her so suddenly, no lead up, that it comes as a shock, putting a dent in her diplomatic persona for just enough time that Lance reacts first, coming to stand defensively at her side like a paladin in shining armour. A very jealous paladin in shining armour.

As if he has anything to worry about.

“Woah, woah! Nu-uh buddy. You can’t marry Allura!”

Off to the side, she hears Pidge snickering. “Oh here we go again.”

“Seconded!” declares Coran, popping up out of absolutely nowhere to stand next to Lance. “As the Princess’ primary guardian, I object! I object I say! … Not that I mean any disrespect to you, Prince Bokar, but I can’t hand Allura over to someone without any notarised certificates of commendation,” Coran pauses, and looks at the prince with renewed interest. “Actually, as a prince, do you have any certificates?”

“Coran,” says Allura in time with a similar protest from Lance.

“Yes, right! Sorry. I just thought it was worth an ask.” And to the prince, Coran says, “Not that it would matter if you did, of course. I cannot in good conscience approve when the princess is already being courted.”

“She is?” asks Shiro. He turns to her. “Is this true, Princess?”

“Yes that’s… correct,” Allura says, realising that this is the first time the matter of her and Lance’s relationship has been brought up in front of the other paladins. “I apologise, Prince Bokar, but I will have to decline your proposal.”

“I knew it!” she hears Hunk say to Pidge, “Her and Lotor really are a thing!”

Allura inwardly winces at the name. She knows they must keep a working relationship with Prince Lotor, but they’ll never become anything more than that. There’s something about the way he speaks, almost as if it’s exactly what you want to hear, charmed words a distraction from his real goal. She may have had a passing attraction, but was all there was to it.

“That’s not…” she tries, only to catch sight of Lance and his pouting face. Allura stifles a laugh.

“I believe there has been a misunderstanding,” says Bokar, this baffled look on his face as he stares Lance up and down. “You’re in blue. Are you not the blue paladin?”

Oh?

Oh?

Lance blinks, his face going blank. He opens his mouth as if to speak, and leaves it like that, speechless, as if trying to catch a Jartulio fly in there, only nothing is caught, and nothing is said. After some pause, he tries again to find his voice, managing a pitchy, “Huh?”

“Hold on, hold on,” says Hunk, stepping forwards from the buffet table in which he and Pidge had been snacking from, their eyes darting back and forth as if watching a live dramatisation of a play. There’s this amused sparkle in his eyes, like he’d full on guffaw if this weren’t a professional setting. “So what you're saying is you want to marry Lance?”

“Yes, I find his company to be delightful. Even if he’s not the blue paladin, red is such dashing colour for a dashing man,” says the prince, taking Lance’s hand in his own to press a kiss to it. If it had been Allura preforming the action, she knows Lance would be a flustered red mess right now. As it is, he isn’t, though there does in fact seem to be a slight trace of red on his cheeks. “Please, paladin Lance, consider my offer.”

“As generous as your offer is, he cannot accept,” says Allura with as much professionalism as she can muster. She’s glad others are able to recognise Lance’s good qualities as she has, but it’s best they shoot down this man’s attempts as courting Lance as soon as.

“Yeah,” agrees Pidge wholeheartedly. “You’re really not his type. I’ve only ever seen him try and flirt with girls before and—”

“Uh, Pidge…” says Hunk, elbowing her in the side. She casts him a quizzical look and Hunk starts whispering in her ear. Nothing that Allura can pick up, even with heightened hearing. A crowded room like this is full of all sorts of muttering.

“Look, I’m really flattered, okay? I am,” says Lance, scratching his neck. He gives the prince an oddly bashful—yet endearing—smile. “It’s not everyday a prince gets charmed by my… me. But I’m going to have to say no. Sorry. And it’s nothing to do with you being a guy or anything, I mean, that’s fine. But I’ve already promised myself to this incredible woman and I really, really want this to work between us. Soooo… we’re cool right? This won’t affect the alliance… will it?”

Two rejections in a row has the prince looking out of sorts. There’s something to his smile, tight, pinched, that makes Allura believe that was less of a proposal and more of a demand.

“You could take us both,” insists Bokar, trying once more. Unsuccessfully, of course, as Lance uncomfortably shifts on his feet, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

“Yeah, uh, we’re good.”

“No, I insist,” presses the prince, forgoing any pleasantries. The crowd around them starts muttering even louder, noises of disapproval directed at Bokar. “You can’t refuse a proposal from a prince! I’m me!”

“He said no,” says Allura, sharp, her glare even sharper. She notices Coran is giving him a similar expression, a rare sight indeed.

“But—”

“Enough Bokar,” comes a booming voice, sending an invisible tremor throughout the people in the crowd, guests jumping in their skin. “You cannot treat our guests this way.”

“But father, you said I could have anything I wanted,” protests Bokar, now less charming, more whiny brat. “And I want a lion! He’ll give me his lion.”

The way Lance deflates at that has Allura making mental note to shower him with love and appreciation once this is all done. Right now, she has half the mind to fling this spoiled prince across with room, consequences to the coalition be damned.

“No way man,” says Lance. “I’ve been here before and it involves being tied to a tree.”

Oh how could they forget.

“Your majesty,” says Shiro, addressing the king. “If this is the condition for joining the coalition, we won’t be able to accept. This isn’t right.”

“Hmm, yes. I apologise for my son,” says the king, another glare directed at Bokar. “Worry not, I have every intention to join the coalition. As for Bokar, he has a little more growing up to do before I marry him off, so it seems.”

***

“Eugh. What a jerk,” says Pidge over the lions’ comms. “He could not take no for an answer.”

“Indeed,” agrees Allura. She has absolutely no time for people like that.

“Yeah! I mean, he basically forced Lance into making up a girlfriend to get him to back off,” says Hunk. He narrows his eyes. “… You did make up a girlfriend right? I would know if my best friend was dating someone, wouldn’t I? Are you dating someone? Is it that alien from that planet of mermaids? Did she give you her number?”

A guilty wince. “Well…” Lance says, trailing off.

“No way,” says Pidge, no lack of disbelief.

“Oh my gosh! Lance, Lance,” says Hunk, a flurry of delight. “You’ve gotta spill the beans. First Allura, now you? When did this even happen? I mean, there’s just so much to tell Keith now! Usually all our blade phone calls are like ‘I found some new spices that don’t melt your insides’. And ‘we fought more galra.’ But now this. I mean, talk about a coincidence.”

“Err, about that,” Lance tries again. “See, there’s a reason for that. I was talking about Allura. We’re dating each other. Surprise?”

And with a flourish of his hands, the secret is out.

How this manages to be so exhaustingly dramatic an experience, yet simultaneously underwhelming, Allura doesn’t know.

“Oh!” says Shiro, an amused twitch to his smile. “Congratulations, the both of you.”

Hunk’s eyes are wide, impossibly so. “… Huh?”

“Sorry for not telling you before. It just… never came up.”

”No—it’s just. Wow. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me neither. Huh, weird. I didn’t think Allura would… yeah,” says Pidge, a strange expression on her face Allura can’t quite distinguish.

“He’s right, Pidge,” Allura admits, looking fondly at Lance on the screen. He returns the look easily.

“Gross,” says Pidge, that expression disappearing like it was never there at all. Pidge rolls her eyes. “Get a lion, guys.”

Lance just laughs, a sound that has Allura wondering just how they managed to hide this relationship at all.

It is truly a beautiful sound.

[jalapenobee]

So remember when I said that I wrote something and it wasn’t cringe.

Well this is it.

Enjoy.

Or throw yourself off a roof, either is fine.

Questions, teasing, and blackmail

Lance poked his head around the corner into the kitchen, where Pidge and Shiro were leaning on the counter, talking about some new technology Pidge wanted to install to the Castle.

He grinned and walked in, where he could now smell the scent of cookies baking in the oven. Hunk’s doing, probably. “Guys, I kinda need your help.”

They both looked up, Pidge looking bored and Shiro looking concerned. “What is it, Lance?” Shiro asked.

“You guys know Keith better than anyone, right? I mean, Shiro, you’re practically his brother, and Pidge, well, you know everything about everyone.”

Shiro nodded and Pidge shrugged before a smirk formed on her face.

“What does this have to do with Keith? You finally admitting you’re in love with him?”

Lance’s face turned red and he tried to stutter out an answer. “Wha- I’m- I’m not in love! I just- I-”

Pidge and Shiro gave him “the look” and he stopped. “Not exactly. But I wanna know if he likes me back.”

Shiro and Pidge tried their best not to laugh, but did anyway, making Lance confused. They laughed for a full 30 seconds before they regained their composure.

“Lance,” Shiro said, a smile still on his face. “Keith’s been crushing on you ever since the Garrison.”

“Ha! I knew Keith was gay!”

“Yeah!” Pidge added. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you whenever I asked him how his day was.”

“Well, is there anything he really likes?”

The two paladins narrowed their eyes. “The color red.” Pidge suggested.

“Death.”

“Blood.”

“Hot Topic.”

“Weird emo crap.”

Lance managed a sarcastic laugh. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Come on, be real.”

“Alright, alright.” Pidge furrowed her eyebrows and hummed in thought. “He likes hippos.”

“Oh, and-“

“OKAY THANKS GUYS GOTTA GO FIND KEITH BYE” Lance started to run off, when it registered in his brain that Shiro was trying to say something. He walked back.

“What was that?”

Shiro smirked. “Knives.”

Lance rolled his eyes and walked off.

“Keith is on the training deck by the way!” Pidge called after him.

“Thanks Pidge!”

Lance continued his walk to the training deck. On the way, he devised a plan. Act normal, drop a few hints, then full out accuse Keith of liking him. If all went well, Lance would get the perfect reaction and a boyfriend.

And Pidge would get her perfect blackmail. Keith blushing and being flustered?

Premium stuff.

Good thing Lance didn’t notice her and Shiro following him.

After a few minutes of walking and Lance’s nerves acting crazy, he arrived at the training deck to see Keith fighting a gladiator. Lance felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he watched Keith train, mesmerized by the way his hips moved and how perfect his stupid mullet looked today.

“Hey Keith, heard you like hippos!”

Keith stole a quick glance at Lance (rhyme time), but didn’t stop the training sequence. “How did you know that? Only Shiro knows that. And probably Pidge.”

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith’s question. “I asked.”

“Why?”

“Well, there has to be something that the ever-stoic, emo, mullet head Keith Kogane has a soft spot for.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for hippos. I just like them.” At this point, Keith had defeated the gladiator and was ending the sequence. “And don’t say a word about my mullet.”

“And we got to talking about stuff at the Garrison.”

Keith tensed up a little as he walked closer to Lance. Could he…? No, right? “Oh really?” He did his best to keep his voice even.

Now Lance was getting somewhere. “Yeah! And a big black birdie and a small green birdie told me that you had a little crush on someone.”

A blush crept up Keith’s cheeks and he looked away. “It’s nothing, they were, um, straight. It wouldn’t have worked.”

A wide smile slipped onto Lance’s face. “I’m bi, Keith.”

At this point, Keith’s face was bright red. “O-oh really? I didn’t, um, I didn’t know that, haha…” his voice trailed off and his hand went up in his hair.

“Keith, your face is looking kinda weird~”

Keith pursed his lips. Was Lance really going to tease his blush now? Out of all things…

“There’s nothing wrong with my face.”

“Yeah there is.” Lance smirked. “My lips aren’t on it.”

“Wha- Lance!”

Click! Pidge and Shiro were laughing in the corner.

“Pidge!”

So those of you who read till the end, I have also started a Wattpad book and I’ll keep all the future oneshots I write here over there. My profile name is CocoaBee :p and the pfp is a leaf.

Thank you for surviving that long.

Comment your thoughts on this, I’d appreciate the help.

733 words

[harukamitsuki]

I don't think Lance should have swapped to the Red Lion.

TL;DR at the end.

Lance's connection to Blue was the first connection shown in the series, which makes it all the more meaningful, and it made no sense to the series own rules. Red is temperamental and difficult to control, which is why Keith was her paladin. I have defended Lance's piloting skills in a previous post, but he is not as good as Keith and does not suit the Red Lion. His affinity is water - as emphasised by the start of season 2. Red is aligned with water.

Plus, if he stayed in Blue he would have gotten a proper character arc by living by his own rules and standards and not in Keith's shadow. I know it was supposed to be symbolism - him accepting Keith as leader and not being selfish about it made him qualify as the right-hand man, but the others accepted him as well, despite ribbing Keith about it earlier.

If anyone should have gotten the role as the Red Paladin, it should have been Allura.

Allura as the Red Paladin would, not only make sense narratively, but would also seem right. Colour-wise, she's closer to Red's hue than Blue's, but honestly, I didn't really care about the colour match-up. What is important, is that it would seem like a much bigger deal than Lance accepting Keith as the leader. Lance hates Keith, but that's probably due to being constantly in his shadow and being compared to him, consistently reminded at the Garrison that he was only moved up because Keith was expelled.

Allura, however, has a deeper reason. (Lance's reason is still valid, btw, just not as big as Allura's). She hated Keith for a good portion of Season 2 because he is half-Galra. Obviously, to us, this is a shitty reason to hate someone. It's racism and the show doesn't handle this well. It doesn't handle a lot of stuff well, but whatever. She gives Keith the cold shoulder and Keith knows she hates him. He says so himself to Hunk and doesn't listen to his reassurances. Then again, Hunk was making jokes about something Keith was clearly sensitive about, so that may have had a hand in it too.

Now, I am not condoning her actions. She made Keith feel unwelcome in a team - a family - while he already has abandonment issues, (not that they knew that), and hated him for something he cannot control. Keith probably hated himself for being born. Both of them disregarded the fact that he is still a person with feeling and blood doesn't change that. Hunk too, as much as I love him, was also wrong in his 'Galra Keith' jokes, as if Keith was someone else entirely, when nothing changed apart from their knowledge.

However, what I am saying, is that Allura's reaction was, somewhat, believable and had a genuine reason - and a good one. The Galra Empire completely annihilated her species (as far as she's aware), betrayed the people she loved, and has monopolized entire planets and controlled them - forced them to work and even fight to the death for their entertainment. Apart from Ulaz, she hadn't a single good interaction with the Galra. One good person is not enough to change your opinion about entire races. I know people who are racist, proper racist, to their own race, no joke.

Allura's reaction was actually rather tame, especially compared to how extreme racism can be in the world, even now. She never rose a hand to Keith and kept it passive-aggressive. She gave him the cold shoulder and genuinely hated him, but she never hit him and she never deliberately sent him on a death mission. The Weblum mission was dangerous, but it was also a requirement and she didn't send him in alone. She may have refused to acknowledge his achievements, but she didn't blame him or accuse him of anything. It's likely that, when she saw him, all she saw was Galra. That being said, she wasn't a bad person, simply badly written. There are many people who hurt others for no reason - people who haven't been wronged in any way, but rate a community simply because they exist or they think they're lower than them or less human, which is wrong on so many levels. Allura, at least, had a good reason, though it should have been built on and written better.

In the end, Allura acknowledged her toxic attitude and apologised to Keith. This in and of itself does not make everything okay, but it's more than what Lance did, (virtually nothing except telling Keith that he has to be the leader). Allura knows she was wrong and sets out to make it right, and this development would have been solidified by her becoming the Red Paladin. Like, let's be honest. Lance does not treat Keith right and it's never explained why, in and outside of the show. He's the one antagonising Keith, even during their first proper meeting, and he's the only starting all the arguments, especially in season 2. Keith has been volatile too, I will admit, but he stops his behaviour in the second season. Lance is the one starting everything. Allura, however, stops her behaviour before it takes extreme lengths and becomes a better person and a better friend as a result. It's then that she calls Keith family for the first time, and becoming his right-hand would have shown how serious she was and how far they've come.

Seeing Allura, who, just the season prior, hated Keith's guts, accept Keith as her leader, the Black Paladin, become his right-hand, would have meant so much more. The symbolism goes even deeper. Red's first paladin was Altean and Black's was Galran. Need I say more? (No, but I will). Many of us were incredibly disappointed with the ending of Voltron, especially with Allura dying. The reason she died was to complete the circle, so to speak. The war against the Galra Empire truly started with the death of Allura's father, Alfor, and the entire species of Altea, and the war is finally ending with Allura and Honerva's death. That being said, it was just so insulting and pointless and nobody was happy. Instead of dying to complete the circle, Allura should have survived and broken the chain, for both herself and Red's own paladin tragedy. It was just a huge slap in the face for people who actually powered through seasons 7 and 8 and trusted the show to pull through and get its head together. I know that Shiro was supposed to get Black back, Keith goes back to Red and Allura controls the Atlas, but if that wasn't the plan, then Allura in Red would have made much more sense.

Additionally, the fight in that realm would have been more emotional if Allura was forced to fight her father and bring him back. Lance had no emotional attachment to Alfor, and I know that was the case with Hunk and Pidge, and Allura had attachment to all of the previous paladins, but still. Think about how heart wrenching it would have been for her to face her father, whom she loves dearly. he wouldn't have even recognised her and would have fought her with the intent to kill after his soul was trapped for 10,003 decapheobs/years. (I know they're different, but Allura says 10,000 years even when she didn't know what years were, so I didn't know if that was a mistake or not). Allura would not have been able to fight as well as she did against the Blue Paladin of Old.

Let's not forget that Allura was the one to convince Keith to take up the role of the Black Paladin. Of all the paladins, it was Allura who knew what to say; who knew why Keith was acting the way he was in season 3. Lance saw Shiro as his idol, Pidge as a legend, and Hunk as a mentor. Keith's relationship with Shiro is so much deeper than that. Shiro wasn't the youngest man to be sent into space. He wasn't someone to look up to. He didn't go to the Garrison because Shiro went there - he went there because Shiro convinced him. He doesn't see Takashi Shirogane, piloting prodigy, idol for all. He sees Takashi Shirogane, his best friend and brother, a man he can trust and how can trust him. Nobody else realises how deep this goes. Nobody but Allura. She's the only one to see how much Shiro meant to Keith. She's the one to call him 'irreplaceable' and she's the only one even by the end of the series, who isn't Keith, who has sacrificed something for him. Allura gave up her freedom for him by allowing herself to be captured, and then she gave up the crystal for his arm. Keith has saved Shiro many times, even his clone, and literally gave up his place in Voltron for Shiro. Allura trusts Keith and Keith allowed himself to trust her. She understands his pain when nobody else saw it.

Finally, Allura would have been inheriting Red from her father. Coran has explicitly said that Allura wanted to pilot Red due to her father piloting her. The Lions clearly have some amount of sentience, Red and Black especially. Black only opens themselves to Keith because he of Shiro. The first time, it's to save Shiro from death. The second, it's because Shiro wanted him to become the leader. Red only accepted Keith because he proved himself to her and has saved Keith many times while he's floating in space. She's described as temperamental, which suggest levels of sentience. Obviously, Red would have more of a soft spot for Allura, the daughter of her previous paladin, than she would for Lance, whom she only opens up to well into season 3 and is someone antagonised and even bullied Keith, her current/transitioning paladin. Allura also shows that she's fiercely loyal and is willing to give one up for the team.

Allura has sacrificed her only contact to her father, she has allowed herself to be kidnapped for Shiro, she has constantly exhausted herself for both her friends and strangers such as the Balmerans, she has given up the crystal in her crown for Shiro without hesitation, and she even dated Lance despite not showing any form of romantic attraction previously. (That last one was joke, obviously).

TL;DR - Lance has literally no reason to have become the Red Paladin outside of a rubbish character arc, and Allura has all the reasons. It would have marked an excellent character arc mid-point and would have set up a great ending, if handled well.

I have nothing but respect for the writers of Voltron for their work, especially after all the intervening of their higher-ups that caused many issues, especially regarding Shiro, Keith, Lance and Allura, who were all robbed of excellent character arcs. That doesn't mean I can't hate what came of it.

[lil-bumbum]

Shiro x male galra reader

  ×3rd pov×

M/n!! Please it's me!it's Shiro,  your friend! ", Shiro yells begging for his galran friend to respond.  (m/n) ignores his friends plea as he continues working with Haxus on the controls of the ship.  Sendak chuckles evilly.  " He won't help Shiro. ",  he says chuckling more.  "(m/n)! I know you remember me! You have too! You helped me escape!! ", Shiro yells,  now frustrated.  " After he had helped you we punished him and did some.......upgrading.",  Sendak says smiling at shiro's distress.

    "Sir, you should listen to this. ",  Haxus says to Sendak.  " What is it? ",  Sendak says still staring at Shiro, smirking.  " I found a radio signal,  sir.  We think there is another paladin inside the castle, sir. ", (m/n)  says,  catching Sendaks attention.  Sendak walks over to the pair.  There is static but if you listen hard you can hear the fuzzy,  muffled voices. " Make it clear.", Sendak demands getting a nod from (m/n).  The said boys expert hands flying across the controls.

    The signal gets clear enough to where you can clearly make out the words being spoken. "We now know where the paladin is.",  Haxus says smirking. " Follow the paladin,  then kill them. (m/n) you stay on the controls and wait. ",  Sendak orders.  (M/n)  once again nods as Haxus runs to find the paladin.  "You called me space cow because you read books about earth and you said my hair reminded you of a cow!!! ", Shiro yells,  his eyes full of sadness and hurt.

    (M/n)'s head snapped up and his hands froze. The collar around his neck sparked a little bit. Shiro's eyes widened as Lance laughed at the ridiculous nickname despite them being in a literal life or death situation.  'Why didn't I notice that collar before! '.  Shiro thought mentally smacking himself. " WHO SAID YOU CAN STOP!? GET BACK TO WORK! ", Sendak yelled making (m/n) snap out of his daze. " You never called me champion because you know how much I hate that name!"

    "You always said 'You have to fight it. If you let your arm control you then that means the galra wins.' You would steal food so that I can have something to eat! You were never scared of me even though I'm scared of myself! You helped me escape even though you knew that death is one of the punishments!! ",  Shiro yelled at the ravenette/white haired boy.  ((I think galrans only have black, purple or white hair)) . (M/n)  froze again.  All of the memories flooding back.

    (M/n) falls to his knees, clawing at his head. He screams in pain as he remembers his punishment. The knives, the whips, all of the blood and bruises.  Getting beaten to the point where he thought he would die. He whispers,  shaking and muttering to himself. Then (m/n) finally faints as his collar stops sparking and starts smoking.  Shiro and Lance stare, eyes wide.  Shiro's in shock and regret for leaving his friend. Lance's in shock and sympathy.

    Sendak walks to (m/n) 's unconscious body. Shiro eyes now filled with anger.  " DON'T TOUCH HIM! ",  he yells. Sendak ignores Shiro and taps (m/n) 's foot with his own. He growls turning around,  ready to strangle Shiro and Lance.  As he angrily walks toward the two there is a big boom,  echoing through the halls. The lights spasming on and off before finally stopping leaving everyone in darkness. Sendak yells in anger as his plan to take control of the ship back fires.

    The sounds of grunts and hitting reach his ears. The lights turn back on,  this time glowing blue instead of red meaning it's no longer under galran control. Sendak spins around.  The droids on the floor in pieces Shiro and Lance gone. He growls turning back around toward (m/n) 's body to find that he is also gone. He walks over to the controls and punches the table in anger. He now has no choice but to retreat.  Lance and Shiro runs, (m/n) in Shiro's arms.

    Shiro stares as (m/n) and notices his purple skin is paler than usual, his body lightly shaking, his eyes going back forth under their lids, and his breathing shaky. Shiro runs faster wanting to help his friend before its too late.

    ×TIMESKIP×

  Muffled talking echoes through the halls. Hunk staring at the stove ((Do alteans have stoves?)) thinking about what had happened. All of the lions we're almost taken and hundreds maybe even thousands of innocent lives were almost killed. And now there's galran in one of their healing pods. Hunk is snapped out of his thoughts by a sizzling sound. 'Balls, balls, balls! I forgot about the food'.  Hunk rushes to mix the oddly bright, chunky mixture so that it doesn't burn any more than it already has. He tuned off the stove and gets plated for the group and scoops up the bright green goop and puts it on each plate.

    He holds all of the plates on his arms like a waiter and makes his way to where the rest are thinking of what to do. He hears yelling as he walks closer to the closed doors. And almost drops the plates as the big door slams open and Shiro stomps away. Hunk regains his balance and walks into the room, nervously smiling at the tense, cold feeling radiating off of allura. He gives each member their plate and shaking makes his way toward allura, pulling his collar as he sweats. He quickly drops her plate in front her and runs to his spot.

×Shiro's P.O.V×

    I angrily stomp my way to the healing pods. I know I should calm down but I can't help it. It's not their fault that they're not fond of galrans but not ALL of them are evil. (M/n) proved that. He was the first to show me kindness and he wasn't afraid to help me. He gave me whatever I needed and he helped me escape with no hesitation. 'He's my........... friend. If the others gave him a chance the would realize he doesn't plan on hurting anyone'. I start thinking about what I had just thought about. 'What is (m/n) to me? '. I shake my head as I open the door to the healing pods. I walk over to (m/n) 's pod and stop. I feel my anger dissapear as its replaced with sadness and regret. My eyes soften as I look at the scars covering his body.

    'I should've taken you with me', I thought. I look at his face, he looks so worried and sad. I put my hand on the glass that separates us. I see his finger twitch and I jump back as his hand shot up. His hand in the spot where I had put my hand before I jumped back. I cautiously step forward reaching my hand out. I put my hand where his is. (M/n) 's eyes snap open and the pods starts opening. I step back again just in case he's still being controlled. But my caution flies out the window as I reach forward and catch him before he hits the floor.

 

 

×(M/N) POV×

    'Where am I? Why can't I move? '. I try to open my eyes but I'm rewarded with nothing. I slowly start to panic as I can't move no matter how hard I try. I stop as I hear muttering. " I should've taken you with me. ". 'That voice..... I know that voice!,I can't remember who that voice belong too.i have to see who they are!'. I again try to move but get nothing. I continue to try and then I feel my finger twitch. 'Yes! Just a little more'. I think as I slowly gain control of my arm.

    I move my arm trying to feel where I am since Im slowly gaining control of everything but my eyes are still heavy. I raise my hand up and I hit something cold and hard. I hear something shuffle and then I feel warmth where my hand is despite the glass being cold. I struggle to open my eyes and when they do I open all I can see is a blurry black shape. I hear a hissing sound and a mist surrounds me as I no longer feel the glass. I try to walk but instead I fall not being able to feel my legs. I put my hands in front of me to protect my face and they hit something warm and hard. I open my eyes and and notice I was in someone's arms. " (M/n)  are you okay!? ", a panicked voice says. I look up and my vision cleared and I recognized the mystery person as " Shiro? What..... where are we? ", I ask confused.

   Shiro holds me at arms length as i grab hold of his arms to keep me standing. He stares at me as I stare back in confusion. I open my mouth to say something but Shiro pulls me back into a hug. He nuzzles into my hair and holds me tighter to his hard chest. I feel him start to shake and I feel something wet. I look up as best as I can since I'm being crushed into his chest. "Shiro? ", I ask softly.

×3rd pov×

    " Shiro? ", (m/n) softly asks. Shiro looks down at (m/n) seeing his confusion. Shiro gently lifts his hand up to (m/n) 's cheek, softly rubbing his light/dark purple cheek. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry", Shiro whispers to (m/n). (M/n) looks even more confused. "What are you apologizing for?", the galran asks his human..... friend? " I left you. I left you instead of taking you with me", Shiro says laying his forhead on (m/n) 's. (M/n) huffs. "We both know I wouldn't have left Shiro. Someone had to distract the guards and it definitely wasn't going to he you. ", (m/n) says. Shiro sighs knowing that he's right.

    " But they hurt you. I should've come back for you immediately after...", Shiro's voice cracks. (M/n) cuts him off. "No, Shiro. What's more important one life or millions of others? Besides I'm right here in front of you. In your arms. ", (m/n) says sternly but soft. Shiro looks into (m/n)'s (e/c) eyes. Those eyes that have always read him like an open books, the eyes that seem to be staring right into his soul. The eyes that made him melt and go soft. " I missed you.... so much", Shiro whispers after a moment of silence. "Me too.", (m/n) whispers back.

    (M/n) closes his eyes, leaning into Shiro hand as his fluffy purple ears twitch cutely. Shiro silently watches (m/n)  enjoy all of the warmth he's getting. Shiro hesitantly moves forward as he closes his eyes. His lips connecting with (m/n)'s. (M/n)'s eyes flew open in surprise as his ears rise up, he slowly closes his eyes and purr ((i feel like they would purr idk 😅)) enjoying the pleasant feeling of the humans lips on his. There are no Sparks or tingles but there is definitely love. The two seperate from the kiss and look into each other's eyes. " (M/n), I love you.", Shiro says sincerely. "Shiro,...... ". Shiro looks at (m/n) with hopeful eyes. "... I don't know what that means", (m/n) says nervously chuckling as Shiro sweat drops forgetting the galran boy doesn't know most human terms. Shiro chuckles hugging (m/n) again. " My galran boy", he says breathing in (m/n)'s scent. "My space cow", (m/n) says smirking evilly as Shiro's eyes snapped open and narrowed his eyes at his now lover.

   

[shatterinseconds]

Bruises and Bandages 

Keith grunts a little when Lance guides the chest plate off his battered body. 

Keith hadn’t been injured badly enough to warrant a healing pod--or at least that’s what he told the team. Lance should have realized it was all just a stupid facade; he saw the signs too late. The way Keith glided a hand along the wall as he walked, almost for balance; the way Keith’s lips pinched together, brows narrowed, though Lance just passed this off as his resting bitch face. 

And now they’re here alone in the armor room and Keith finally seems to have given in to his exhaustion. Or, at least enough to not put up much of a fight when Lance berates him. He deserves it though. While the bruises look painful and deep, Keith deserves every bit of scolding Lance has within him. Not like there isn’t anything else he can do while he patches Keith up.

The silence would be too much.

Though, Lance is just glad the red paladin had stayed put when he went to grab some medical supplies. Sometimes Keith is too much like a cat; you leave the room for one second, and they’ve vanished.

After stripping Keith of his armor, Lance unzips the body suit, pushing it off Keith’s upper body so it pools around his waist and on the bench. Keith’s muscles tense when exposed to cold air; goosebumps ripple across his skin. Lance sucks in a breath after spying mottled bruises encompassing his right shoulder.

“You’re such a stupid, reckless idiot,” Lance mutters. “I don’t know how you’ve survived this long with all your limbs intact.”

Keith doesn’t respond, which isn’t that much of a surprise.

Softly touching his shoulder with the pads of his fingers, Lance can tell by the inflammation that Keith has already popped a dislocated shoulder back into place. Keith hisses before clamping his mouth shut when Lance hits a tender spot. After a quick apology and a sigh, Lance moves on to Keith’s other injuries. There’s not much else he can do for Keith’s shoulder at the moment, and he doesn’t want to take the long trip to the kitchen for ice without Keith in tow.

Lance’s hands trail down to Keith’s. His knuckles are swollen as well. The red, throbbing skin is hot under Lance’s touch. He reaches for a damp rag and begins to clean the cuts and dried blood.

“Goddammit, Keith,” Lance breathes. Keith flexes his hand a little, the only sign that he’s been listening, but Lance knows it’s because the Altean cream stings. As Lance rubs it into Keith’s skin, it already begins to work. The small cuts are scabbing over; his skin returns to normal.

“You should be in a healing pod. Honestly, just learn some common sense. I don’t know why it’s so--” Lance lifts his head to find Keith staring at him. He abruptly cuts off his sentence. With his bangs plastered to his face, damp from sweat, it’s difficult to gage Keith’s expression. At first, Lance almost thinks he’s going to be told off but he catches onto the… softness in his eyes, the tenderness? That can’t be right. “What?” Lance says and flushes under the intense gaze. Honestly, has Keith even blinked once? Must be a Galra thing, that or he’s just really out of it. “Why’re you looking at me like that? I’m not the one who’s all black and blue. I--”

Keith kisses him. It’s a closed mouth kiss, nothing that should be special, nothing to write home about. But it is. After a moment of shock, Lance’s eyes flutter closed and his hands cup the back of Keith’s head to draw him closer. A bit of cream gets into Keith’s hair--Lance hopes he doesn’t mind.

Keith pulls back with a pop. His voice is a little rough. “I know, and thank you.”

Still dazed, Lance’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds. “D-don’t thank me. Just try to do better,” Lance says. Keith ducks his head, hands curling in his lap. Almost like he thinks Lance has rejected him; almost like… he looks about five seconds away from bolting. Lance can’t have that. Fingers resting under Keith’s chin, Lance tilts his head up. “But if you want to kiss me again, that’s perfectly okay.”

“Yeah?” Keith asks, a half-smile on his face.

Too impatient, Lance kisses him before another word can be spoken.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Soul of a Lion (Chapter 8)

Sequel to The Smallest Blade.

Summary: After the Red Lion steals them away from the Marmora base and takes them through a wormhole, Shiro, Keith, Katla, and Lance find themselves in front of a majestic castle with nowhere to go but inside. The events that unfold while they’re there will change the fate of the universe.

Also posted on AO3 under the username “kishirokitsune”.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

8 | Picnic on the Shore

Lance was pretty sure that he looked as miserable as he felt, but after his nap with the four mice he didn't have time to do more than splash some water on his face and smooth out his borrowed clothing in an attempt to make it look a little less rumpled. (It only slightly worked, but Lance couldn't bring himself to feel too upset about his disheveled appearance at that moment.) At least Allura was the only one who would see him in such a sorry state.

The room was easy enough to find, especially with the Princess waiting for him at the door and taking away his one final chance at escape.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted, lamely lifting his hand before dropping it back to his side.

Allura turned and faced him with a smile. “I'm glad you joined me, Lance. I'll admit, I was a little worried that you would change your mind.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice. Not if we want to find another Lion,” Lance said, knowing his tone was flat and unable to bring himself to fix that. He took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do, princess?”

The answer turned out to be meditation, which seemed simple enough. At least it meant Lance wouldn't have to try and carry on a conversation with her, though it did mean sitting still and trying to clear his mind enough for her to connect with him. Which was a problem, because he didn't truly want her to connect with him.

Mostly it was the fear that she'd get a clear look into his head and find out the truth, and he was far from ready for that to come out.

But he'd promised himself and Keith that he would try his best, so Lance uneasily settled down in the center of the room and held Allura's hands. Clearing his mind long enough to properly meditate was more of a challenge than usual, but after a half-varga or so he felt that familiar floating sensation. He breathed out slowly as a form began to take shape in the unfamiliar inky darkness and soon Allura was there in front of him, her long hair billowing around her as though they were underwater.

(Lance wondered if it was the result of their combined mental landscapes. His was normally much brighter, as though he were high in the clouds and resting on a floor of reflective water.)

Lance looked up and saw a web of brightly colored string crisscrossing above him. “Huh, so that's what that looks like.”

“Oh, good! Katla and Shiro already told you what we're looking for!” Allura said, sounding pleased.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance lied. “We're... looking for a string?”

“Specifically, a glowing one,” Allura said, turning her gaze to the web. “It may be faint and rather difficult to see. The two unclaimed Lions are the Blue and Yellow ones, which should make things easier for us.”

Lance took that to mean that the strings would be the same color. Good. That would help it go more quickly and then he could go and... and do something else. The temptation to retreat back to his room was strong but it also wasn't helping him feel any better. He thought back to the quick list he made, trying to remember if finding Katla or talking to Hunk was the second step. After a moment, he picked Katla, if only to give his frazzled nerves a quick break.

“...the outer ones.”

Lance guiltily snapped his attention back to Allura, who didn't seem to have noticed his lapse. What was she saying? Something about “outer ones”? Was she still talking about the strings?

He looked up again, taking note of the way the web formed. Everything eventually linked up to a hexagonal shape in the center, crisscrossing and wrapping around to form what looked very much like a spider web, including the supporting strands that stretched out into the distance. There was a massive and bright cluster that Lance assumed led to his home, a smaller cluster that was possibly the Blade of Marmora HQ, and then a few rogue ones that were all by themselves. (Maybe the members of the Blade who weren't at HQ?)

Lance walked until he was standing beneath one of the single blue strands, taking a moment to examine it and see if he could spot a glow around it. He moved on after a few ticks, checking each and every one of the blue or yellow strands along the way. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Allura doing the same.

And then, finally, he saw it. A soft haze of pale blue around a dark blue string.

He was a Paladin.

Lance's breath caught in his throat as he reached out to the strand and then suddenly the world shifted around them. The other strings vanished into the distance as they were whisked along through space, rocketing past galaxy after galaxy. He could hear Allura struggling to name each of them as they whipped by.

And then everything began to slow. They passed by a massive gaseous planet with rings. Another with swirling red clouds. A dusty red one.

The string led to a pretty blue planet with wisps of white clouds and bursts of green from landmasses.

That was where the Blue Lion was hidden.

“It's beautiful,” Allura said softly. “I wonder what it's called. This is far beyond the range of space we explored ten thousand years ago. I hope I can find it on the star map.”

Lance didn't know what to say to that. He almost volunteered to help her, but was that something he could handle? It wasn't completely awful to be alone with her – not the way he thought it would be – and it wouldn't be the end of the world if they spent a little more time together. He sighed and shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his pants. Baby steps, he reminded himself. “If it does give you trouble we could just do this again, couldn't we?”

Allura's eyes lit up. “We could! Actually, would you mind if we follow the strand back to the center point? I want to make sure I'm remembering everything correctly.”

Lance took one last look at the mystery planet and then nodded, once again reaching up as though to touch the glowing blue string.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Arus was easily one of the more beautiful places Keith had ever had the privilege of setting foot on. (Not that there were many of them.) The wildlife within the bubble was sparse, with just a few birds and some short greenery, maybe a tree or two, but beyond the cliffside where the Castle of Lions rested were beautiful fields and a sprawling forest. There was also a village full of tiny beings that Keith and Lance had taken to calling the “Arusians” but it didn't seem like they strayed too far from the plains where they built their homes.

It was only because Keith thought it was safe that he invited Katla out for a picnic. Being in a new and unfamiliar place was no excuse to ignore their courtship and he wanted to start it out the right way.

Katla looked equal parts intrigued  and unimpressed with being “out in the wilderness”, as she phrased it, for the first time. She'd gone her entire life living in synthetic environments and surrounded by technology, so it was a complete change of pace for her and one that Keith intended to make memorable.

“I guess it's kind of pretty,” Katla murmured as they passed by a flowering bush. She slowed down and breathed in, smiling at the pleasant scent before immediately sneezing – it was a tiny, delicate sneeze and Keith had to turn away so she wouldn't see his grin and think that he was making fun of her for it.

“I'm glad you like it,” he said. “We don't have to go much farther. The spot I picked is just up the hill and under that big tree.”

Katla rubbed her nose and looked at the flowers with a little more wariness in her gaze. “I wouldn't say it's going to become my favorite thing, but I don't hate it.”

Keith grinned at her. “We've only been out here for five doboshes. Give it a little more time.”

“Fine,” Katla agreed, crinkling up her nose. “But only because I trust you.”

He'd know that for a long time, but hearing her state it in a way that was so matter-of-fact brought a flush to his face. He looked away and adjusted the basket he was carrying into a more comfortable position.

They walked to the top of the hill in comfortable silence. Once they got there, Katla unfolded the thick blanket they borrowed from the Castle and spread it out across the grass before she eagerly sat down in the shade. Keith set down the basket near one of the edges and then joined her before opening the basket and pulling out the food and drinks that he pilfered from the kitchen that morning. (Okay, so Hunk caught him halfway through packing everything up and insisted on helping, so it wasn't really pilfering but Keith could pretend.)

“Please tell me that isn't nunvil,” Katla said, dread creeping into her voice as she pointed to the bottle of reddish liquid.

Keith quickly shook his head. “It's some kind of juice that Hunk made. I tried some before I packed it and it's pretty good. Mostly sweet with just a bit of tartness. Hang on...” He paused to retrieve a pair of cups and handed one to Katla, who immediately poured one for each of them.

She took a cautious sip and her expression melted into one of bliss. “Never tell my mom I said this, but the food here is so much better than anything we grow back home.”

That was one secret Keith was happy to keep. He liked living.

He picked up a basket of berries that had a slight coating of some sort of sweet and thickened sauce. Hunk had insisted on making them for him, saying that it was a staple of romantic dates and that Keith should hand feed one to Katla. It sounded silly to Keith but he figured that there was no harm in giving it a try.

“Here, try one of these,” he said, plucking one out of the basket and holding it up.

Katla reached out to take it and raised an eyebrow when Keith shook his head and pulled it away.

“I, uh, I'm supposed to feed it to you,” Keith said.

Katla still looked a little puzzled, but lowered her hand to her lap and leaned forward, opening her mouth once Keith pressed the berry near her lips. She took a tentative bite, humming a little as she savored the flavor, and then finished off the rest. “Interesting... Your turn now!”

Keith held out the basket so she could choose one for him and then obediently leaned forward to accept the berry from her hand. The coating was sweet, with a slight bitterness to it that only served to compliment the natural flavor of the berry; altogether a tasty treat. It was only the act of eating it from Katla's fingers that felt strange.

He sat back and put the basket between them so they could enjoy the rest at their leisure.

“So, what brought this on?” Katla asked, gesturing to the food around them.

“I...” Keith's voice faltered for just a moment. He took a deep breath as he met her eyes. “Katla, two decaphoebs ago I asked if you would accept my courtship once you came of age and earned a place as a member of the Blade of Marmora. I was going to ask you after your Trial, but then we ended up here in the Castle and have been busy ever since. Now that we have some time to ourselves, I am officially asking: may I court you?” Without taking his eyes off of her, he held out his hand.

Almost immediately, Katla slid her hand into his, an effortlessly bright smile upon her face as she nodded. “Yes!”

And with that great weight lifted from Keith's shoulders, their picnic continued on.

They kept the conversation light and casual as they enjoyed the food and pleasant weather, both needing a break from the constant talk about the Lions and whether or not the Alteans would ever be able to trust them or how they would maintain contact with Kolivan and her family. Instead, they brought up old stories and joked about what lengths Slav would go through next in order to see Shiro again.

“I just don't get it,” Katla remarked, shaking her head. “Shiro's cool and I feel lucky to have him as my mentor, but sometimes Slav invents these ridiculous reasons why it has to be Shiro who flies him to another location.”

Keith chuckled as he finished off the last of his juice. As he reached out to put the cup back into the basket, movement from the pond down the hill caught his attention. He looked a little closer, watching the ripples on the surface of the water, one hand reaching for his dagger, and relaxed when a massive fish jumped out of the water and landed with a heavy splash.

Katla jumped in surprise. “What was that?!”

“Some kind of fish,” Keith said, continuing to track its movement. If it stayed near the surface, maybe they could go down and catch it. It wouldn't be the most romantic activity for their first date, but it would be nice to have some tasty fresh fish.

It jumped again and Keith caught sight of a ribbon of purple painted across its side. In that moment, Keith realized what he was looking at and knew that they weren't going back to the Castle until it was flopping in his arms.

“Wait, is that...?” Katla trailed off, her voice full of wonder. “I've never seen one that big. We're going to catch it, right? That's enough to feed us and Shiro for days!”

“We don't know for sure if it's a daagti or not,” Keith pointed out.

Daagti were a type of rare fish that were a delicacy to the Galra. They had soft flesh that had a melt-in-your-mouth quality once cooked and a high amount of protein that was especially valuable to young cubs. For the Blade of Marmora, it was a dish saved for those who needed it most – particularly those who were recovering from injury and occasionally for a young cub who needed the nutrients.

Keith had the privilege of eating it more than once upon his arrival to their Headquarters, but it stopped once he reached the proper weight and height for a half-Galra his age – not that he was underweight before, but apparently the nutritional needs of a human child and Galra cub were very different. He remembered going with Kolivan to pick out which fish he wanted and seeing how small and how few they all were. There were only so many they were capable of raising at once and while they were fairly fast growers, they were also in high demand.

Katla was already on her feet, her tail twitching in interest as she began walking down the gentle slope towards the pond. Keith was fast to follow in her footsteps while keeping a close eye on the fish. The pond was a decent size. If they lost sight of it, they were unlikely to find it again.

“We need a plan,” Keith told her. “How are we going to catch this thing?”

Katla slowed down a little. “Good question. Maybe we could use our blades? If we come at it from an angle and herd it towards the shore then it has less opportunity to slip away from us. Stabbing it might be our best bet.”

“Worth a shot,” Keith agreed. He removed his dagger from its sheath and, in one fluid motion, transformed it to its sword form.

Katla drew her stiletto blade and held it in front of her for a moment before flicking the point and smiling as it shifted into a curved sword with an ornate guard. With unspoken agreement, she moved to the left while Keith went left and they slowly entered the water.

It was all very anticlimactic after that and both Keith and Katla agreed to embellish it for all of their retellings because it all went exactly as Katla planned. They drove the fish towards the shore, which made it flop around more in a futile escape attempt, and then Keith speared it through the head until it stopped moving.

It was too big for either of them to lift on their own, so once they hefted it onto the grass Katla ran back up the hill for the blanket and they used it to drag the fish back to the castle with minimal effort while also carrying the basket.

Shiro spotted them on their way to the kitchen and came to a dead stop. “What's going on?”

“Nothing!” Keith said defensively.

“We caught dinner!” Katla chirped.

Shiro raised an eyebrow as though he didn't believe them  - which was only fair after all of the shenanigans they got up to as cubs – but rapidly changed his tune once he got a look at what they had dragged back to the Castle. He stepped in to help them take it the rest of the way and then helped filet it into more manageable pieces, some of which were set aside for dinner while the rest was put away into stasis. (That didn't stop him from eyeing the smallest of the cuts, wishing he could try a piece then and there instead of waiting.)

“Where did you find this, anyway?” he asked instead.

Katla left it up to Keith to explain how they were picnicking near the skinny end of a massive lake. She would jump in if he needed any help with their embellished tale about wrestling the massive fish onto the shore, but he didn't seem to have any problems.

She smiled to herself as she began moving the fish into the stasis chamber.

She and Keith were officially courting.

It felt - well, not inevitable exactly - like they were on the path that they'd always been heading towards. Their transition from friendship to courtship was easy for them because they already knew where they stood with one another. It was something she'd been dreaming of for years, even before he promised to ask once she passed her Trial and there was a part of her that thought they would have to push it back thanks to their untimely arrival on Arus, but Keith managed to surprise her in the best way possible.

In their world of uncertainties, it was nice to know that there was one constant she could rely on.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Allura called everyone to the Bridge for a meeting just before dinner.

There were no looks of surprise or curiosity as they all shuffled onto the deck, which left Allura to assume that they all expected a meeting of some kind. Lance, who had been with her when she decided to make the call, had picked a wall to lean against while they waited and it was to him that Shirotak, Katla, and Keith flocked once they arrived. Hunk stood somewhere in-between and was joined by Coran, who was the last to arrive simply because he had been in the lowest part of the Castle of Lions, where he continued his examination of the engines.

Allura serenely folded her hands in front of her as she looked over the future Paladins and hoped that she was doing the right thing by trusting them.

Once she had everyone's attention, Allura activated the star map to show off the carefully placed markers she'd taken the time to set up. Each one showed where one of the Lions were located – all but the Yellow one. The Black and Red Lions were shown on Arus, which was in the center of the map. The Green Lion wasn't too far away on a planet lush with flora, but on the other side of the room was the planet holding the Blue Lion.

“As you can see, we have successfully found two more of the Lions. This leaves only the Yellow Lion without a Paladin.” She paused to let her words sink in as well as to brace herself for the aftershock of her next idea. “I've given it some thought and it is my belief that the Yellow Paladin is in this room.”

Allura noted with some interest that Shirotak's gaze slid to Hunk. Good. She could use someone to back her up. She took a deep breath and also looked at Hunk, whose gaze reflected confusion at first but swiftly turned to mild horror. “Hunk,” she said softly, even as he started to shake his head in denial.

“You're wrong,” he croaked.

“Hunk, there could be no better choice for the Yellow Lion. You share many of the qualities that Gyrgan...” She choked up a little but plowed on. “Traits that the previous Yellow Paladin exemplified. Your strong will and mighty heart make you the only one right for the job in my eyes and I do not doubt that the Yellow Lion feels the same.”

Coran gently placed a hand on Hunk's shoulders when the dark-haired Altean continued to struggle with the idea. “He would be proud to know that you are here to follow in his footsteps.”

Hunk looked around the room in search of help but found only friendly, smiling faces urging him to give it a try. Even Lance gave him a nod and attempted a smile. Hunk's shoulders slumped in defeat and he nodded. “Okay... but only if this is what the Yellow Lion wants.”

Allura clapped her hands together in relief. She'd honestly been expecting a drawn out battle, filled with plenty of pleading looks and perhaps a hint of bribery.

“So, does this mean you guys are going to the garden?” Katla asked.

Allura shook her head. “No, if you don't mind waiting, I believe Hunk and I will be able to connect here. This won't be the first time we've connected our mental landscapes, so I don't think it will take us long at all.”

“Why don't I show you all some of the controls while we wait!” Coran said eagerly. “Each of you has a seat around the main console from which you can control small drones for exploration and reconnaissance!”

Allura and Hunk left the others to their new task while they retreated to a corner so they would be out of the way. They decided to sit on the floor rather than stay standing since neither of them were sure how long it would take.

Luckily, it wasn't long before Allura found herself in a familiar hallway lined with old-fashioned, wood shuttered windows. Each one had a letter and a symbol embossed on the surface – Hunk's preferred way of organizing his mental landscape. The windows represented the people around him and he could open or close them at will, depending on whether or not he wanted a better “look” at their emotional state. The one nearest to her had the first glyph of her name and the image of a Juniberry flower in full bloom.

She didn't touch it, despite the temptation to do so, and instead made her way to the end of the hall, which branched off into numerous winding directions. Hunk was standing just inside one of those branches and was nervously shifting from foot to foot.

“Do you feel drawn towards a particular direction?” Allura asked.

“I... maybe?” Hunk sounded unsure. “It feels like there's something over this way, but I haven't wanted to go look.”

Allura nodded in understanding. He'd mentioned in passing that his mental shields weren't in great shape after sleeping for so long – even if that amount of time felt like nothing to them in stasis, it still had an effect on them. (She wasn't back to her full strength either.) It was reflected in the way the halls of his mind darkened as they progressed away from the main area.

The shutters of the windows were broken. Cobwebs were strung across the corners where the walls met the floor. The starry sky above them grew dim.

Allura shivered and tried not to look too hard at the windows they passed by – the windows that showed a broken connection to all of those they had lost. She only stopped when Hunk's sharp inhale broke the silence and his footsteps stuttered to a halt.

There was one window that wasn't broken. The shutters were painted a cheerful yellow and in the very center was the raised, detailed face of a Lion.

They had found him.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

But of course, it wasn't as easy as immediately leaving to retrieve all of the Lions. They needed a plan first and ideally, a full night of sleep before any of them set off for far-away planets. Katla's disappointment was palpable in the air, but luckily Shirotak found a way to distract her. (Something about a fish for dinner? Clearly, there was something Allura had missed.)

“In order to reach each of these worlds I will have to create wormholes,” Allura told them, gesturing broadly to the star map glowing around them. “The only downside to this is that we will also have to lower the Castle shields, which will leave us vulnerable to the enemy. They will be able to pick up on the energy signature the Castle gives off. We will have to move quickly to retrieve the Lions and bring them back here. I need each of you to be prepared for a fight.”

“The Castle of Lions isn't ready for flight, but the weapons systems are all in tip-top shape and ready to provide support,” Coran said.

Allura nodded. “Good. We may need it.” She paused and looked over everyone, who looked a little dismayed with the idea of needing to immediately fight upon finding the Lions. It wasn't an ideal situation by any stretch.

“Go and enjoy your evenings,” she said. “Tomorrow morning we find the Lions.”

Maybe she should practice giving more inspirational speeches. No one looked particularly enthused as they left the Bridge. Allura sighed and took her time turning off the star map, allowing herself a moment to get lost in her thoughts.

As she turned to leave, she caught sight of the four mice tumbling in from one of the vents near the floor. She could feel their excitement as they raced over to her and she knelt down to pick them up, all the while trying to make some sense of what they were trying to communicate. She could understand them but since they didn't speak using words it took a little bit of creative interpretation on her part.

“A picnic?” Allura asked. She smiled when Chuchule twirled around in her palm and fell against Platt. “That's really sweet. And you say Shirotak and Hunk bonded over the training deck? Ah, over Hunk showing him how it functions. Yes, that makes more sense. And... wait, slow down. What are you saying about Lance?”

There was so much squeaking, so many different thoughts bombarding her at once that it was hard to parse through. Finally, Chulatt elbowed the others aside and they went quiet.

Allura's eyes went wide and she sucked in a gasp, struggling to accept what he was telling her. “Lance is... Lance is a what?!”

[euphoniumpets]

The red princess | The weeping monk x reader

Summary: The castle. Their skilled warrior. The king who once fell in love with a woman that only turned into a tragic love story. His curiousity won over him and ran way with the woman who he loved. But maybe the history was repeating all over again and maybe Father carden was right about her? 

Authors Note: here it is, the fanfic all of you guys have been waiting for. Also, I’m so happy to see that this small family is growing bigger and bigger and want to thank you guys for all the support and love you guys have given me. Also, consider this fanfic is like an AU? the red paladins is royalty and so on, and yes, I did with the only one bed cliqué. sue me lol (don’t do it). Also, this will be a miniseries with three parts in it. I was thinking of just doing two parts buuut, nope, ain’t doing that. ALSO I DID A ROYAL AU STORY ON MY ACCOUNT ON WATTPAD!! go check it out once i announce that i’m done with the layouts. 

As usual the tag list for the ppl i love that i want to see their reaction: @purerepelsdirt @parabatai-winchester​

Warnings: ehh, violence? men ogling at reader, lancelot is being a softie and father carden is being an asshole, this will contain smut in part two. 

The red princess. 

Was not an uncommon name that whispered around the fey folk and the people who lived around her. Everybody knew who she was. How powerful but yet innocent how she acted. Innocent but she can kill a human being with an blink of an eye. 

That was her story behind the gates of the red paladin camp but her story is different on her perspective. Before she was the red princess, she was just an ordinary girl, the daughter of Father Carden, the leader of the red paladins. 

Before she became a princess, her father met a lovely lady named Ravenna. Her beauty mesmerized the others and even her own father who fell in love with her. Their love was unique but it quickly dissappeared because he saw the behind of her figure. Who she really was before she died and gave birth. 

That’s why y/n were locked up in the castle in the first place. After the birth of y/n, her father knew that she would be exactly just like her mother. A liar, an abomination. but maybe y/n were more than just an liar and an abomination.

That was lancelot’s thoughts when he first saw the red princess. Father carden had given him an assignment inside the castle and he crossed a hallway where he haven’t been there before. It was almost odd because he used to roam in every single hallway in the big castle and he didn’t stumble on the strange door. 

The door to the room intrugied him. He wanted to know what lies behind the door but he knew that he couldn’t cross it. Because he knew that he would get caught and being punished what he had just done. 

After walking past by the door several times, he gave up. He would consider that he was weak. That he couldn’t beat the curiousity that streamed through his veins. Finally, he gripped the handle and opened the door. 

The room was similair to the rest of the rooms that existed inside the castle. ‘’Who the hell are you?’’ Snapping his gaze from the bed, he met the eyes of e/c. Her wavy long hair to her waist and her white dress that covered her perfectly figure. She looked like an angel that had fallen down from the heaven, lancelot thought. 

Before Lancelot could say anything because he was star struck by her beauty, she let out a huff. ‘’You don’t have to answer, I know who you are,’’ she responded with wide eyes. Lancelot wanted to smirk at the satisfaction but held a unfazed expression. ‘’You do?’’ His deep voice filled her eyes as he watched her smirk from the window. 

‘‘I’ve been watching you ever since,’‘ She replied as the two of them kept staring at each other. ‘‘And do I get to know who you are?’‘ He questioned after a long silence. He watched her smirk. ‘‘You wouldn’t belive me if I told you,’‘ He raised his eyebrow as an challenge. ‘‘Try me,’‘ And that was how he met the daughter of the red paladin. 

-

It has been several days since Lancelot had visisted you from the chamber. He didn’t know why he did it. He thought he was stronger to keep his curiousity behind him. And he was afraid that father Carden would notice that he had been visiting his daughter. 

But that didn’t stop him. He kept coming into your chamber every now and then at night and at day when your father was not in the castle. Y/n would lie to herself that she began to feel something for the mystery boy. 

However, it has been years since she stepped outside of her room. The longing of going out and feel the sun and the air around her. The awful pit in her stomach when she would get when she would see her father. 

Y/n didn’t know that her father killed her mother. Because just one secret that she had from him. She didn’t know why she was locked in a room and all her father would say that it was for her own protection. 

Her days used to be surrounded by darkness but ever since Lancelot had stepped inside her room, it has been filled with light and butterflies. She didn’t know if he felt the same about her. 

But Lancelot did feel something that he hasn’t felt for ages. Love. When he opened the door into her chambers again, he noticed that something was wrong with y/n. It was nighttime and her father had just visited her in the day time. 

He didn’t visit her often because of his duties and that he wanted to ignore that he had a daughter born with abominaiton. But this time, it surprised y/n that he wanted to visit her. It wasn’t because of her but because of them. 

He had noticed that one of his best warrior had acted strange. So, he ordered someone from the castle follow Lancelot behind and he discovered that he was with his daughter. He had threatened her by that he would kill her if she was with him again. And not by only that, he would have to kill lancelot too. 

‘‘Hey,’‘ He replied softly as he took off his hood and placed it on the wooden chair. He watched y/n stare off in her thoughts by the window with a concerned expression. ‘‘What is it?’‘ He questioned her as he placed his hands onto her shoulders as he turned her around. 

He watched her close her eyes before she looked deep into his eyes. ‘’He knows,’’ She replied in a hushed voice. ‘’He knows about us, and he won’t stop if we will continue to keep seeing each other,’’ She replied with fear in her voice.

‘‘y/n, I will do anything to protect you and me-’‘

‘‘No, he will kill us both,’‘ She cut him off with tears in her eyes. 

‘‘We, we can’t see each other, I’m sorry,’‘ She whispered. For the first time in his life, Lancelot felt the heart break in his heart. 

-

The next day Lancelot was in a hurry. He had planned to escape the castle and take y/n with him away from her father. As he packed his belongings, he heard the door to his chambers made a knocking sound. He felt his heart beat faster and he froze in his tracks. 

With a fast movements, he tried to cover the belongings. ‘’Who is it?’’ He questioned out loud. ‘’It’s father carden, my son,’’ He gulped. He tried to not show any fear against the man who had took him into the castle and treated him like a son. 

He gripped the handle as he put an unfazed expression. He watched the figure of father carden as he greeted him and stepped aside os he could enter his room. ‘’I see that you’re going somewhere?’’ He heard him speak behind him as he frowned. He turned around as he closed the door behind him as he spotted the messly cover up on his bed.

‘‘Yes,’‘ He replied with his deep voice. Father Carden turned around. ‘‘I know about the little affairs you have with my daughter,’‘ He told him as he stepped closer towards Lancelot. ‘‘I warn you boy, you do not want to be with her,’‘ He warned him. ‘‘Why is that? So you can lock her up and leave her to rot?’‘ He sneered. 

He scoffed. ‘’I’m locking her up for protection from the horrible world we live in,’’ He explained, Lancelot clenched his fists in anger. ‘’You’re leaving her to rot,’’ He growled. Father Carden snickered slightly towards him as he shook his head. 

‘‘Listen to me, Lancelot, she’s brainwashing you, look at you! you’ve turned soft for her,’‘ Father carden sneered. ‘‘This is not what I have trained you to be,’‘ 

‘‘You can’t stop us, we’re leaving tonight,’‘ He told him as Father Carden scoffed. ‘‘I don’t think so, the only thing y/n will be recieving tonight is your dead body,’‘ Father Carden said as the guards stormed into his chambers. 

-

Y/n tried to pack her belongings as fasts as she could. Ever since the threat she had gotten from her father and the plan that Lancelot had told her about few days ago, she agreed to escape the castle with him. 

The door banged open as she immedietly took the sword that Lancelot had given her. She relaxed when she saw Lancelot storm inside her room and took the bag. That was not the only thing she noticed from the stress behaviour from him, but she saw the blood at his face.

With wide eyes, she rushed towards him in concern. ‘’Lance, what happen-’’ she gasped as she felt when he took her by the wrist. ‘’We don’t have time, y/n, come on!’’ He urged her as the two of them ran out of the castle. 

- 

Y/n didn’t know how long they have been riding. It seemed that it was midnight and that they neared a village far away from the castle. The horse stopped as y/n watched Lancelot hop off the horse before he helped her too. She landed on the ground with a thump. 

‘‘You’re alright?’‘ Lancelot asked her quietly. She smiled tiredly towards him as the blood had almost dried from his face. She wiped some of the blood gently. ‘‘Exhausted, but I will be fine,’‘ She answered as he nodded. 

He took off the bag from the horse and all the belongings before he tied the rope against a branch. Turning her gaze, it seemed that they were at a hostel and a pub. 

‘‘Stay close,’‘ She heard him whisper in her ears when she noticed some men were oglig at her. She nodded with fear written on her face as she walked closer to him. Y/n was filled with curiousity since she had never been outside from her room since long she could remember. 

Suddenly, a woman stopped in front of them. ‘’It seems that you two have been wandering for a long time,’’ The woman replied with a smirk on her face. ‘’We’re looking for a room to stay for the night,’’ He responded as the woman walked closer to him. 

Y/n looked at her with a weird look before the woman’s eyes trilled down on her. With a decieving look on her face, she trailed her fingers slightly on y/n’s face. Lancelot gripped his sword tighter. ‘’So, beautiful...’’ The woman whispered before she looked towards Lancelot. 

‘‘Fine, ‘‘ The woman replied. ‘‘But it has a price,’‘ She replied as she glanced towards you as you looked at her with a fearful look. ‘‘No, she belongs to me,’‘ He growled. ‘‘How about I give you money?’‘ The woman looked at him with interest.

‘‘How much?’‘

‘‘I have 1000 silvers,’‘ Lancelot replied. 

‘‘Give me 400 silvers, just because you have a beautiful woman next by your side,’‘ Lancelot gave the money to the woman as she led the two of you through the hostel. She opened the door as she gave you a smirk before she left the room as you looked at her with a confused look. 

Turning your gaze towards the room, it was decent. Only problem though it was that only one bed and y/n knew that this night was going to be an interesting night. 

[langstforthesoul]

Happiest Year (Kangst + Hurt/Comfort, Character Injury, Klance)

A/N: So I’m gonna try a different writing style then What I’ve been doing, let me know if you prefer this or the other style. More notes are going to be at the end of this too so stay tuned!

They were in the middle of battle, the others were yelling over the comms while Shiro barked orders out over them the best he could but no one could understand over the panic. The only reason they were panicking was that their sharpshooter, their lover boy, Their Rock/Glue of the team was injured and the wound seemed worse than what they all initially thought.

“Guys I might be on the ropes this time,” the brunette rasped, his breathing coming out wheezy and in a short puff. “And I want you guys that I’ve been fighting this war for you, so you guys can go home too…” Keith, who was holding Lance tight in his arms, began to shake his eyes filled with unshod tears. “Baby, quit talking like you’re going to die! You’re not leaving us!” A single tear slipped down his dirtied cheek, leaving a clean streak of clear skin in its wake. “You can’t leave me..!” Hunk and the others were fighting Galra soldiers and sentries, trying to make a path so Keith could carry Lance to Red to try and get him back to the Castle ship and into an awaiting healing pod Coran had set up. “Keith-“ “You should never have to say goodbye!” Keith yelled over the fighting, leaning Lance against his body so he could use his cannon to help clear the path faster. “Maybe that's just what stupid people do, buddy..” Lance tried to joke, letting out a pained chuckle. “Hang in there, Hermano! We’ll get you into that Healing pod, so please..” Hunk called from where he was, Shooting sentries one after the next. “Please just hang on!” His cries sounded a mixture of pure desperation but determined, he attacked the next sentry that came after him with a look of such Rage it scared Lance a little. When the path was clear enough, Keith Picked Lance up once again, jostling his wound to the point where he cried out in an agonized scream. He gave the Cuban an apologetic look before sprinting across the battlefield and into red. Keith turned on the comms channel and he saw a panicked-looking Coran. “Is the pod ready, cause he has to get in there as soon as we land Coran,” Keith said, already having red fly off the planet they had landed on for this mission. “It is ready and waiting! How is he?” The boy in question groaned, looking paler by the second as the blood from the wound in his chest continued to flow. “Doing great, Coran-“ He tried to say but ended up coughing in the end, blood slipping from his lips. “We’re almost there, just hold on Baby!” Keith yelled, seeing Lance’s eyes flutter shut. “Keep your eyes open Lance, stay awake! You have to stay awake!” Lance let out another pained groan, squinting his eyes open once more and giving his lover a soft smile. “Y’know…” he sucked in a sharp breath. “You gave me peace, and I think I might have wasted it…” The look that adorned Lance's face was filled with love but scrunched up in pain when red jostled a bit. “You know this is hard to admit, but Keith you were my medicine.” His eyes started to flood with the tears he had been trying to hold in the whole time, beginning to tremble in pain. “I don’t wanna die Keith…” He mumbled, feeling himself grow weaker as the tears streamed down his face like a slow-flowing river. “And you won’t, I won’t let you.” Keith, trying to stay strong for Lance, pushed red to fly faster seeing the Castle ship just mere meters away. “We’re almost there Lance!”

As soon as Keith landed red into the ship's hangar, he ran down her ramp and out with Lance unconscious in his arms. Coran was waiting just outside, running after the red paladin, his eyebrows creased and worry lines showing. “Quickly, we don’t have time to take off his armor to put him in a suit!” He said, going directly to the controls to quickly type in the info the machine needed. Keith gently placed Lance into the healing pod, watching it close and fog over. He released the breath he had been holding in since he got out of red, collapsing onto his knees in front of the pod. His body began to tremble from the overexertion, tears slipping from his eyes as he stared down at his hands covered in Lance’s blood. He tried to wipe it on his armor, letting out a choked sob. Coran stepped forward, kneeling next to the younger and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Keith-“ “Coran please, I’m down on my knees again! I’m asking,” His head whipped up to give the older man a look of pure despair. “Is he going to make it?” His voice cracked, thick with the tears that still fell vigorously. Coran what at a loss of words, he looked up at Lance who’s face looked eerily peaceful. “He will be…” He turned back to face the ravenette, his eyes sad but filled with hope. “Now, let's get you cleaned up yeah? The others will be back soon and they shouldn’t see you like this.” He chirped, though it was faked for Keith’s sake. The ladder shook his head, he wanted to stay with his lover but paused, looking back down at himself. “Ok..” he mumbled, standing with the help of The older Altean.

Time Skip (Everyone is back from the Fighting and it's at least 2-3 days later):

Keith, now in a clean set of clothes and holding Lance’s hoodie close to his chest, sat in the med-bay next to the pod. The others came in to check on him a few times, Shiro even tried to get him to go and get some rest in his and Lance’s shared room but… “Lance, please come back to me…” He mumbled, burying his face into the fabric and letting out a shaky breath. He looked back up and moved to sit in front of the healing pod, studying Lance’s face, his figure, the way the blood on his armor was a darker shade of red morphing into brown. “You know I never really thanked you,” He ran a hand through his hair. “So I guess Thank you for the happiest year of my life…” He let out a sad chuckle, tears flooding his eyes when he looked back up at the pod with his vision now blurry. “Thank you for the happiest year of my life, Lance.” His chuckle turned into a sob, his hold on his lover's jacket tightening as he shook. “I don’t think I could forgive myself, I’m so sorry for the ways I couldn’t protect you.”

Flashback (Before the battle started.)

Everyone landed onto the planet's surface, scanning to see where exactly the distress signal was coming from. “Are you sure a distress signal came from here, Pidge?” Shiro asked, exiting his lion and looking around the surrounding area. Judging from the information, or what little they had in the castle, the planet they were on was occupied by Nomadic people who were anything but violent. “For the thousandth time, yes I’m Sure oh captain my captain,” Pidge said, their voice filled with sarcasm towards the end of the sentence. That got a chuckle from Lance as he exited his lion, making sure to keep an eye out for any enemy soldiers or hostile movement. “C’mon Pidgeon, he’s just making sure in case this could be a trap.” Lance chirped, trying to keep the mood light and aloof. Keith came out of his lion cautiously, getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. “Something seems off here..” He muttered, walking up to stand next to Lance and staying on guard. “I know, shouldn’t there be people here..” Lance mumbled under his breath, grabbing his bayard. “Exactly, stay on guard sharpshooter..” “You to samurai..”

“If you two are done being lovey-dovey, we have a mission to get done,” Pidge said from their lion, pushing up their glasses as they look at their scanner one more time. Their face morphed into pure confusion while quickly looking up and around. “What the hell..?” The muttered, looking back down at their scanner. “What’s wrong?” Hunk said, moving over to stand next to them. “This doesn’t make any sense, there should be people here! Even the heat scanner…” Their eyes widen with realization, their head jerking up to look at Shiro. Shiro’s made a grim face before shouting. “Get back in your lions-“ But they were too late, they were all surprised attacked by Galaran soldiers all racing forward with war cries that could shake your very core. Lance pulled out his bayard to give Keith cover as the Ladder ran forward with Shiro and Pidge. The strategy was simple enough, close-range weapons go first while the long-range cover them. That should’ve been how it went… Until Hunk was about to get stabbed from behind but a Galran general sneaking up on the Yellow Paladin. Lance noticed him just as he was going for it and jumped in to take the hit. “¡Dios, Mierda! That Hurts!” Lance yelled, causing the others to whip around only to see their blue paladin impaled by a sword. “Lance!” They all shouted in unison, hunk shooting the general and the sentries approaching. “I’m fine! Focus on your opponents!” He yelled back, shooting any enemy soldiers that came near Keith and Pidge. “We don't need any more injuries, besides it's just a scratch!” He joked, biting down a cry of pain. The others begrudgingly went back to fighting but Keith went to Lance’s side immediately, now having a closer look at the injury that's befallen his lover. “Lance that isn’t a minor injury-“ “I know, but it’s the least of our worries right now!” He growled, his knees giving way but he played it off by pretending to kneel to get a better shot of the never-ending hoard of sentries. “And honestly I could care less right now! Besides, they could hurt you pretty good too if you don't start paying attention, Samurai..” Keith shook his head, and kneeled next to the other, clicking his tongue at the sight of the blood that was oozing out. The Cuban though, his vision filling with black spots, felt his grip loosening on his bayard. “Ok maybe it’s worse than a scratch-“ He mumbled, collapsing against Keith’s chest.

Back to the Present:

Keith winced at the memory, letting out a shaky breath as he curled in on himself. “Yeah, they had made you bleed,” his hands clenched into tight fists. “And we tasted it.” He looked up at the pod once more, his tears long since dried but the feeling of guilt still ever-present in his mind. “I’m here to admit, Lance…” He stood up from his spot, still holding his lover's jacket in his arms as he walked forward placing his palm flat on the healing pod. “That you were my medicine... Oh, love, I couldn’t quit,” He slid down to the floor on his knees, just as he did when they first put Lance into the pod. “And I’m down on my knees again! Lance please…!”

Flashback:

Lance and Keith were cuddled up in their shared room, laying there in silence until Lance spoke. “You know I really should say Thank you.” He spoke softly, trying to keep the mood soft. Keith looked down at the Cuban laying on his chest with a confused look. “What for?” He asked, trying to remember if he had done anything to warrant gratitude. “For giving me the happiest year of my life..” The other mumbled into the Ravenettes chest, holding a fist full of the man's v5 sweater in a tight grip. Keith froze, he hadn’t exactly expected that from Lance, even though the ladder was a huge sap. “Lance-“ Lance sat up on his elbow and looked at Keith with an adoring look. “Thank you for the happiest year of my life..”

Back to the Present (Again):

Keith smiled to himself, the memory leaving a warm feeling in his heart. His eyes began to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up with him as he leaned against the pod. “Wake me up when they build a time machine, I wanna go back..” He mumbled, his voice sounding thoughtful. “Maybe I could have protected you from getting hurt like that..” His eyes soon shut but sleep was still a bit away from his grasp. “Wake me up when I have you sleeping next to me..” he wrapped Lance’s jacket over him, using it as a blanket somewhat. “Cause I really love you…”

Keith jerked up as soon as he heard the pod door hiss open, frantically getting to his feet to catch Lance as he fell out. “Lance! Baby!” He said, pulling back to look at his lover's face, sleepy-looking as it may be. “Keith..?” The Cuban mumbled confused, recognition soon reaching his eyes as they widened. “What happened? Is everyone ok? How long have I been in the pod? Why do you look so exhausted?” One question shot of Lance’s mouth after the other but Keith could only stare. He couldn’t believe it, Lance was more worried about others rather than himself. His eyes filled with tears once more, pulling the other into a tight embrace. “You almost died and you're worried about everyone else?! Lance I-“ he released a choked sob. “I c-could have l-lost you forever!” That's when Lance felt his heart shatter, that exact moment, as he wrapped his arms around the trembling man he loved. “Hey, I’m ok now though. Everything’s ok, mi amor! I would never leave you! Not ever-“ “You nearly DID THOUGH!” Keith shouted, his voice cracking as another sob wracked through him. “And I never got to say Thank you for giving me the happiest year of my life or that I loved you or-Or-“ He grabbed the back of Lance’s armor, the dried blood flaking off as he held him. “I-I love you too but Keith you need to breathe for me,” he rubbed Keith’s back soothingly, trying to keep his voice even and soothing. “You’re starting to hyperventilate, sweetheart.” Keith shook in his arms, taking deep breaths as he started to calm down while listening to lance.

After a few minutes of calming down and holding each other’s, Keith looked at Lance and planted a soft kiss on his lips before quickly pulling away. “I love you…” He mumbled, meeting the other's eyes. “I love you too, but can I go shower and change, I don't think it would be comfortable for either of us if I cuddle you with my armor on.” That drew a chuckle out of Keith as he pulled away from Lance, gently grabbing his hand to drag him out of the med-bay. “Let's go, Sharpshooter, we can take a quick shower together and then go get some rest.”

A/n: ANd with that it OVER, this took at least 3 ½ hours to write but it’s worth it honestly I’m proud of this! I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to point out any mistakes you see, and if you see a way I could Improve my writing just let me know! I hope you all have an amazing day/morning/evening/night and please stay safe out there!

[chaoticevilbean]

Four In One : Chapter One

"Lance, on your left!"

The Blue Lion moved just in time to avoid a cannon blast, twisting with practiced ease. It laid cover fire as the Red Lion moved in to take out the command ship, the whole thing exploding within ticks.

A few dobashes later, all five Lions were safely in their hangars, having successfully gathered information, freed a few prisoners that were sent off in escape pods, and destroyed the rest of the fleet. The Paladins all rushed out to greet each other, giving and receiving praise for maneuvers and quick thinking.

"Well done, Paladins," Allura called out as she entered the main hangar where the team was still standing. Her white wings fluffed with pride, showing off streaks of pink and silver. "That was one of your most successful missions to date, and it truly shows off your skills as pilots."

"Wouldn't have been able to if you didn't push us so hard," Shiro replied, his dark grey and black wings fluffing as well.

"But the breaks are appreciated," Hunk added quickly, as though worried not reminding the princess would mean her reverting to the relentless training she had given them when they were still new.

"Of course," was the elegant reply. After a few more minutes of talking, the group started to head towards the lounge area. Hunk headed straight for the kitchen with Coran to make dinner, while Pidge began to decode the information they gathered. Shiro and Allura began talking quietly about the ways each paladin could've done better, and how to improve each minor weakness. Keith sat down with a book, and Lance settled on the other side of the couch, content with just thinking.

Like many times nowadays, his mind wandered to wings.

On Earth, there were scaled wings, feathered wings, and wingless. There were minor mutations, and a few major ones as well. Upon coming into space, it was found that Alteans also have wings, though Galrans do not.

Each of the Paladins of Voltron had different wings. Hugely different.

Pidge's wings were small, made for speed and agility, but still with downy spots. It was obvious that there was room for growth, and the youngest paladin made sure none of the boys, or anyone else for that matter, forgot it. But whereas most wings were shades of brown, grey, or red, Pidge's still developing feathers held an ombre pattern of bright green. Streaks of dark and light hues highlighted the wings whenever they puffed up in indignation, which was often, considering the rest of the team thought it was adorable and annoyed her just to see the adorableness. Not that they'd tell her that.

Hunk's wings were feathers as well, in golden tones that ranged from deep chocolate brown to a khaki tan. They were strong, made to hold much more than just Hunk's weight. Their softness was unrivaled, and no matter the weather, warmth radiated from the large appendages. And large they were. The longest wingspan ever recorded, they were at least twelve feet on either side, and bigger in size as well.

Shiro's wings were black with shading of dark grey throughout them. His time as the Champion caused a few light grey streaks and white feathers scattered throughout. They were streamlined, made to be fast, but not nearly as agile as Pidge's. Fully extended, they reached about eight feet on either side, meaning they were strong as well.

Keith's wings were the only ones with scales. About a movement into their time as Paladins (the space equivalent of a week), Allura and Coran did full scans of all of the humans, since they had no information on human biology. That led to a discussion of how much Keith knew about his parents, but it did allow Keith to reveal his wings, which he had previously hidden, as all humans are able to do. His scales shone with different patterns and shades of red, and were built for quick movements. Angled a bit differently than feathered wings, they cut through the air easily. And sitting just below his six foot long wings were a slightly smaller set, a slightly lighter coloring and meant to provide a boost in flight.

Allura's wings were a sight to behold, capturing the attention of the five Earthlings when they first met the Altean princess. White wings with streaks of silver and pink that caught the light, changing with each form the alien royal took. They were just as elegant as the being they were attached to.

Coran's wings were apparently as strange among Alteans as the Altean was to the Paladins. Apparently scaled wings were so rare in Altea that there were under a hundred of the population with them at once. Orange scales speckled with blue and white and brown, built for protection and endurance. Despite most scaled wings being cool to the touch, Coran was much like Hunk - always warm.

Lance sighed internally at the confidence in which each of his companions held themselves and their beautiful wings. His own wings itched to stretch, but he couldn't do it here. Even if he was willing to show his team, there wasn't enough room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sea glistened as the McClain family swam in the beautiful water, ran along the sandy beaches, dragging neighbors, friends of family, and even "strangers" from nearby to join in the fun. Children and adults alike took the skies.

Lance had always known this life. His wings were spread out along the sand around him, providing many of his younger family members a soft place to nestle. Despite the strangeness of them, the sheer impossibility of them existing in the first place, every community member had accepted them. Accepted him. When someone new came to town, they were kept away from Lance until it was decided they could be trusted - or they simply continued on their way. In school, fellow students would move chairs and tables around to allow him to spread his wings a bit. Rainy days would lead to little kids and even some smaller teens seeking refuge under the boy's appendages.

On days like these, when the sun was slowly setting, the air warm, the sea calm, and the entire community slowly making their way to the impromptu get-together, Lance felt a joy unlike any other. Neither flying nor swimming could compare to the pure contentedness he felt.

Leandro Charles McClain was the boy born with impossible wings. His wings were a brilliant ombre of blues, and their wingspan was a whopping four feet. At most, babies had two feet of feathers or scales, though apparently there was a two and half foot wingspan record for a Samoan child. Along with the strange color and length, there were two more features that were definitely not normal.

Lance's wings were both feathered and scaled. The feathers covered the top half of his wings, before seamlessly giving way to scales on the bottom half. And there were four of them. Four bright blue, large, half-feathered half-scaled wings, positioned along his back.

In a few months, Lance would be heading off to the Garrison. His wings would be hidden like all of the students were required to do, at least while in uniform. There was a desert nearby where he could stretch his wings without worrying about prying eyes, and his grades were good enough that he couldn't be kicked out without plausible reasons.

So, he enjoyed these days of slow sunsets, warm air, and calm seas.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lance was brought back to the present by something jumping on his back. And something else jumping on his lap. And two somethings jumping on him from either side. A yelp erupted from him, and he looked around semi-frantically. Then he groaned as loudly as possible, as his teammates laughed.

"Lance, you back on the ship?" Pidge giggled from where she clung to his back, careful of the wings none of them had seen yet.

"Yeah, bud. Ya zoned out and weren't responding when we said your name." Hunk chuckled at his friend, who now seemed mildly confused.

"Really?"

"Yep. You had Allura pretty worried," Shiro replied, as Keith nodded seriously, or as seriously as he could while helping Shiro hug-pin his competitive friend. Lance peered over Hunk, who was clinging to his front, in order to gaze at the princess. She offered a slightly sheepish smile, before speaking loud enough for them to hear her from where she stood across the room.

"Alteans do not 'zone out' as you say, at least, not as deeply or for as long. When you didn't respond, I was worried you were ill."

"Thanks for worrying, princess, but I'm fine. And if Hunk is here, that means dinner is either done, or close to it, so can y'all get off me. I can't exactly move, like, at all." The group laughed once more before untangling themselves and rushing towards the dining room.

Dinner was filled with jokes and praise for the mission, and it was one of the many times the group felt like a real flock. A Space Flock, but still a flock. Afterwards, Shiro announced that everyone was to gather in the nest for their nightly grooming session. Grooming was a maybe bi-weekly necessity for proper wingcare, but the Space Flock got together each night to bond and relieve some of their tension. Grooming in a group was considered an act of trust and love.

The younger four Paladins raced to the nest, which was situated in the lounge. The lounge itself was a very large room, and the nest was on a raised platform. It was big enough to hold all of the Paladins and Alteans with their wings spread out - minus Lance. A ladder was connected to the wall, installed in the first movement, when two of the Paladins still hid their wings. It was also there for if someone's wings were injured, and for Lance, who always helped the others groom.

The six other flock members never understood why he hid his wings. They had asked if he was wingless, to which he had assured them he was not. He also let them "groom" his hair and help with his skincare routine, teaching them how to do it properly so that they knew he trusted them. After all, he cared deeply about his skin and hair, much like all humans cared about their wings.

Once settled in the nest, Lance immediately began grooming Hunk's left wing, while Pidge started on the right one. Shiro forced a wiggling Keith in front of him, stopping the squirming by gesturing for Coran to let Keith groom him. The Altean quickly complied, his other wing held out to Allura.

Two vargas later, Keith was letting Lance braid his hair "for bed, now shush, Mr. Mullet McGrumpyPants, this'll only take a tick," Pidge was doing the same for Allura, Shiro was doing the same for Hunk, with the promise that he would let the boy braid his floof, and Coran was brushing Lance's hair.

"Done!" Lance called out as he tied Keith's french braided mullet.

"Same!" Pidge and Hunk called, both doing similar with their subjects. Lance and Keith both tried and failed to hide snickers at the fact that, while Hunk, Allura, Keith, and even Pidge sported very pretty braids, Shiro... well, he looked pretty, alright. Like a pretty little unicorn.

"Alright, alright, I get it," the man said, using his trademarked dad voice. "Now, let's help Lance with his skin and then bed for us all. After such a successful mission, we're sleeping in the nest tonight." Lance tensed slightly, and since they all were scooching closer in order to do his version of grooming, they all noticed.

"Don't worry, Lance. We all know you want your privacy, so Coran was finally able to find that blanket that hides wings." Allura's kind smile reassured Lance, and at his relaxing form the others continued with their activity. Though only being in space for a few phoebs, the others had slept in the nest a few times. Each time, Lance had gone to a different room to sleep, in order to release his wings and stretch without being seen. Coran decided to look around for a special Altean blanket that was used for situations such as these, where one wished to hide their wings during intimate activities. It was basically a miniature space pocket, warped to allow any size wingspan to stretch out fully, while practically suctioning to the body to keep any edges from lifting. Apparently, it was incredibly comfortable.

Coran did not lie.

Lance was the first one out, curled up with his arms around Pidge, his legs entwined with Hunk's, and Shiro holding him with arm. Keith was being held in the other, causing the two boys to be essentially cuddling. Allura sat curled in the spot created by Hunk's and Lance's legs, holding Pidge's legs in her lap, while Pidge's arms cradled Coran's legs. Coran was grasping Hunk's arms, and the latter was doing similarly. Wings curled around all of them, creating a warm cocoon of feathers and scales.

No one had nightmares that night.

No arena haunted Shiro, or planetary destruction to plague the Alteans.

No homesick dreams for the Garrison Trio, and no blurry figures abandoned Keith that night.

All that remained were sweet visions of all their good times, mushed together for pure bliss.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 14

welcome the the fourteenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. tell me again, do you love me? by @hiuythn

If it were anybody else, Lance would think they’re messing with him for fun.

But Keith is Keith, straight-forward and guileless. If he’s touching Lance more, it’s only because he’s gotten more comfortable. And on one hand, that’s great, that’s—Lance feels very honored. His heart is doing backflips and aerial stunts and everything. On the other, this is really not helping with his raging crush.

His breaking point turns out to be when Keith, exhausted after a day of subspace meetings, drops his head onto Lance’s shoulder and sighs.

It’s a sigh that says, now I’m comfortable, that admits, I’m recharging, that practically screams, you help.

Hands in his pockets, he lets Lance bear his weight as if he trusts Lance to handle it. Great. That’s just—how dare he. How dare he be so vulnerable with Lance? Who does that?

It’s so enraging that Lance just blurts out, “I’m going to need you to stop doing this before I fall in love with you even more, asshole.”

Keith freezes. - Or, five times Lance acknowledges his feelings for Keith and one time Keith reciprocates.

okay hiuythn is literally one of if not my favourite klance artist to ever cross this fandom. she is, as she has titled herself, the total queen of best friends to lovers. she nails it every time. this fic in particular is somehow exactly what the description says and also not what you expect. i have read this fic dozens of times, i read it every time i really want to smile with my whole heart. this fic is cute and sweet and funny and GOD i love it

2. ‘CAUSE EVERY TIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING by @hiuythn

“It is a blessing,” the high priest warbles. God, he’s so old that Lance is afraid he’ll just expire on the spot. “From our God of Celibacy, to aid you in your fight to keep your bodies free of worldly taint.”

“Okay,” says Lance. “Only we didn’t ask for it. We asked for your planet’s support in a war.”

Beside him, Keith is staring at his bare hand, expression stormy.

Earlier, he had placed it on Lance’s exposed wrist and something like an electric shock had ripped through them at the touch.

“You should’ve told us that participating in your religious ceremony would do this to us,” he says now, a growl under his words.

The high priest falters in his tracks, confused by their lack of gratitude.

Yeah, fuck you, man. Don’t go around giving people spiritual STDs.

yall are gonna get a lot of hiuythn today. and ur gonna like it. bc yet another thing she nails is the black paladin keith red paladin lance dynamic!! theyre so stupid and codependent. i love them. this whole fic is just the funniest premise alive, and no fic makes me laugh like a hiuythn fic. oh and also quick warning that this fic IS explicit, but i encourage u to give it a try even if thats not ur thing bc i guarantee you will be laughing

3. baby sweetheart darling love by @hiuythn

Keith gives Lance a nickname. Lance mistakenly assumes that it’s an insult.

god i love this one. the idea of keith being so whipped that he doesn’t even realise that hes slipping out the fondest nickname in the world every time he speaks...god. i love him. hes so dorky and soft i adore them liek actually

4. skin hunger by @hiuythn

Keith is touch-starved to the point of stupidity. Lance helps. Lance tries to help. Lance tries.

the description alone should have yall clicking the fic fr. its so cute, and yet again the best friends to lovers and black paladin keith/red paladin lance has been completely nailed like i cannot get enough. i would gobble up a thousand fics every single day by her honestly

5. i killed sendak for this by @hiuythn

“I’m married?” Keith blinks. “I’m married to you?”

i actually read this one years ago, before any of the other fics came out for me to obsess over, and i loved it then too!! so sweet and dorky and funny. also flustered down bad keith and flirty suave lance is always a peak dynamic actually

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[diabolik-writer]

Keith Kogan x Ftm!Reader

(I did write this like two years ago, but I edited a little to make it better. I'm sorry if it's still shit. Also I don't know how to work Tumblr yet)

You sighed and sat on your oversized bed. Slowly looking around the room, you spotted pictures you had put up. Some were of the paladins, some were with you, but most were pictures of you and a mullet-headed male.

You smiled softly, making the sour mood of the room go away, but it faded back when realization hit.

Keith seemed to not care. It seemed like he'd happily leave you. He HAD left you already.

You put your face in your hands and elbows on your knees.

Tears formed in your eyes and slid down your face; eventually falling on your pants, making the wet spots appear darker. Thoughts ran through your head. Most were of Keith.

You heard the door to your room slide open. Not daring to look up, you kept your head down, but listened. The sound of footsteps approaching you, who was curled up on your bed, grew louder as they appeared next to you. You felt your bed bend when the person sat down.

"Mullet Brain upsetting you again?" The person asked. I recognized the hushed voice as Lance. You looked up and Lance's eyes widen. "OH MY GOD! DON'T CRY, Y/N!" He rushed to get the words out, wrapping his long arms tightly around me. You hugged back and cried into his shoulder.

You heard steps outside the small room you had on the ship. The door opened and you slowly looked up.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you saw purple eyes looking at you full of worry. "What's wrong?! What happened?!" He looked around quickly and when he saw nothing he calmly but worriedly looked at me. His eyes scanned your face and he walked closer.

Lance jumped up. "Well, as much as I want to stay, I have to..... help Hunk with dinner." He almost ran out of the room with his half ass excuss, leaving Keith and you alone.

Keith slowly made his way over to you and sat down in the spot next to your form.

"Why are you crying?" He asked softly, placing his hand on your thigh trying to comfort you.

You shook your head, not saying anything. He sighed heavily and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"It's okay, y/n. I'm not supposed to say anything, but Lance told me how much you're struggling." You looked up and growled at the new information given to you.

"Damn it! He wasn't supposed to tell anyone!" You grinded your teeth in built up anger, which would go away in a minute if you stayed calm.

Keith smiled a little and kissed your cheek, causing you to calm down a little. He looked down at his thigh. "I'm sorry. I left without even thinking about if you would be effected by it. I should have talked to you about it." You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

You did suffer a lot, he knew that. He left with no warning. He would be gone for days on missions with the Blade of Marmora. You rarely had even seen him before he disappeared. Then one morning, you walked to the table for breakfast and asked if anyone knew when he'd be back. Everyone went silent.

Shiro had asked you if Keith talked to you the day before. You didn't even KNOW he was in the castle yesterday. You told them that and asked them why he hadn't visited you. Your shoulders sank and you grew sad. Lance didn't miss that. He let his anger build up. Keith had come and gone without even talking to his boyfriend?! Let alone, left without telling you the big news that would change everything.

Lance got upset screaming, "Are you serious?! He didn't say anything to you?! When I get my hands on him, I make sure he never see's the light of day!" His out burst of anger, which confused you.

Hunk gently explained the Keith was going to be a full time 3 of the Blade of Marmora. Which meant he no longer lived in the castle. You were extremely upset because not only did he left, but he left at the worse possible time.

You were going to start testosterone in a few days. Allura was going to help you with it. You wanted Keith with you through it, but he obviously didn't want to be beside you. You knew he probably wouldn't have found it important, but it meant the world to you.

Its been almost two months since he left.

You felt yourself tearing up again. "You're right. You should have. You ignore me for weeks and then left without a word. I'm guessing you'll have to leave again in a few minutes, so just let me be alone."

You moved away from him. He shook his head. "I don't leave for a couple more days. I want to make it up to you. I know, I've been a shitty friend and boyfriend. I wasn't here to support you through your transition, which I know you wanted me to be by your side through that."

He looked at you in the eyes. You felt weak at the knees. You knew you were supposed to be mad. You knew you should've kicked him out. A couple days wouldn't fix months of damage, but his eyes were always your weakness.

You let a small smile slip and looked down. "Fine. I forgive you, but you can't ignore me again, okay?" Your voice was soft, broken. Afraid to let him in, but knowing you couldn't say no to him. You were still insanely in love with him.

He nodded and grabbed your waist, pulling you on him to straddle him. His hair fell into his face, but he left it. He mumbled in a similar tone, "Never again will I do that, I promise. It was torment for both of us. It broke my heart, even if it didn't seem to."

He closed the gap between you and kissed you passionately. You felt all the pain and love flow through it. You kissed back and ran your hands through his hair.

When you two pulled back, Keiths eyes were red and puffy. Tears were stained to his cheeks as he sighed happily. He leaned his head on your shoulder to rest.

He ran his hand up your sides. He stopped when he felt the outline of your binder. He smiled.

"I'll promise you this, I will be here through every from this moment on. Let's start with getting these awful things gone..." he slid his hands to the front of your chest to feel your heartbeat. "...so you don't have to wear this uncomfortable thing." You laughed and hugged him.

"I missed you." You whispered quietly, relaxing under his grip. He held you closer and kissed your neck. "I missed you too."

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 73: Care and After

Keith and Lance have to wait two movements to take a pregnancy test. In the meantime, Keith recuperates and some actual work gets done.

And I finally stop shitting on Krolia quite so much, bc I'm nice like that 😇

First  Previous  Next

Krolia stops by while Keith is in a deep sleep, offering the excuse that she’s bringing them more food and returning BleepBloop. Once she’s made her excuse plausible, the offerings placed in the cellar beneath the remaining packages she’d given them a movement ago, she admits her true purpose with a question.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Lance murmurs, brushing hair out of Keith's face. He pushes one foot rhythmically against the wall, letting their hanging bed sway gently back and forth. “The night before last, he had some trouble holding his fever. I ended up putting him in a hot bath. Then last night, his fever broke fully.”

“When his fever dropped the first time, was it a false break or just a drop in temperature?”

“No… It was my fault. It got really cold out, and I forgot to feed the fire. He couldn’t keep up. He was still having chills, and was slightly lucid. He suggested I run him a bath. I don’t think he remembers, though.”

“A dip in fever is pretty normal for a first season. Galra are never as strong their first time around. You handled it well.”

“Mhm. I missed him, though.” Lance smiles, gaze soft as it travels over Keith’s face. “He’s my friend. My ‘Person’, y’know? And I’m his ‘Person’... I don’t know. It just- It felt like he wasn’t here anymore. Obviously, I’ll still be here for him every time, however he wants me, but I think I’ll always like it better when he’s being rude and demanding. Or complaining.”

The Altean’s mouth quirks. “I’m sure I’ll get an earful about something or other when he wakes.”

That quirk rises into a grin. He loves it when Keith gives him a hard time. It’s one of his ways of showing his love, and that he’s comfortable with him. It’s one of Lance’s favorite things.

Keith stirs in his sleep, whimpers against Lance’s throat. Long brown fingers slide up to his ear, massaging the base in just the right spot. Practiced. Caring.

When he glances up to the silent woman, she’s watching, expression perfectly neutral. When she speaks, it’s not bitter, only quiet. “Why couldn’t you be what I wanted you to be?”

“Do you know, I think you’re the first person to ask me that to my face? Most people I meet just give underhanded comments about whatever aspect of myself they take issue with.” Keith settles against him once more, sinking deeper into sleep with a sigh. Lance takes a moment to smile at him. “But either way, it doesn’t matter. I am who I am, and what I am, and if there’s one thing I’ll never apologize for, it’s that.”

Lance tips his forehead to rest against Keith’s. “He calls me his ‘good man’. I need to live up to that.”

“You’d fucking better.” The woman sighs. “I need to get back up to the compound. Take good care of him for me.”

“You have my word.”

 “So… My arm is dead. And your hair is in my mouth.”

“That sounds like a You Problem,” Keith mumbles, even as he shifts in a weak attempt to restore blood flow to Lance’s arm.

“The burdens of being the big spoon,” Lance murmurs, kissing the back of Keith’s neck while subtly trying to get fur out of his mouth. “Feeling any better? You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“A little. Guess I’ll sleep some more, take a bath, eat something, and then…”

“Find a way to keep busy for two movements?”

“Yeah.” Keith finds Lance’s hand slung over his waist, grips it tight. “I know I shouldn’t make such a fuss about this. It’s all chance, not a big deal if we’re not pregnant, but-”

“It is a big deal. Either way, this is going to dictate how the next few phoebs will go, or the rest of our lives. It’s an especially big deal for you, I know. All those social pressures and everything. But it’s ten quintants. We’ll get through it together, just like we do everything else, okay?”

“Okay.” A restless quiet stretches between them. “I need a bath.”

“You really, really do. Would you like me to run one for you?”

“Rude. But yes, please and thank you.”

“Trust me, I need one too.” Lance gets up, ignoring Keith’s grumbling when he does. “I’ll go first. You go back to sleep, or get a snack, okay?”

The prince kisses his cheek, sets one of Krolia’s leaf-meals next to him on their bed. Keith groans, not at all in the mood to return the affection. He’s so grumpy when he’s tired…

Ancients, Lance loves him.

When Keith finally emerges from the den, he’s freshly bathed, long, thick hair still dripping, hanging loose down his bare back. He’s a bit self-conscious, having noticed almost immediately that he’s lost a noticeable amount of weight. 

Lance, while (suspiciously) vocal of his appreciation for Krolia giving them food, is cooking them some fresh fish out front, complete with bread and vegetables. Keith notices that there’s definitely extra food there, no doubt in an effort to stuff him full of nutrients.

“Hey.” 

“Hey- Hi. How are you?” Lance searches him earnestly, looking for clues. 

“I feel like shit. But you probably figured that. Also, my head hurts from keeping my hair braided for so long.”

“Yes, I figured that. Do you want me to dry your hair for you?”

“Yes, please. But leave it loose.” Keith hands him a towel, sitting beside him on the ground. “I could swear I almost forgot what the sky looked like.”

“Well, right now it looks gloomy.” It does indeed, overcast and thundering. The world is cast in grey light, leeching the bright reds from the earth. Lance gently squeezes water from Keith’s hair, glancing regularly at their dinner to avoid burning anything. “Apparently, the storm ‘system’ that came over when your season started is still passing over.”

“Yeah, it happens this time of year. We’re nearing the monsoon season.”

“I thought you didn’t have seasons.”

“We do, but not temperature-y seasons. We have rainy seasons, dry seasons, harvest seasons, rutting seasons, lots of different seasons, but we definitely don’t have winter.”

“Rutting seasons?”

“The elk. They start bugling and mating and all that stuff. Then they calve, and the wolves have their pups.” Keith lifts his eyes to the heavy clouds. “It’s good you’re cooking now. It’s going to rain again in just a little bit.”

Lance finishes, leaving Keith’s hair ever so slightly damp, but at least no longer dripping. The Galra disappears back into the den, comes out with their cloaks instead of the towel. Lance sighs with relief, grateful for the warmth as a chilled breeze tumbles over them. Keith snuggles close, rests his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“Thanks for taking care of me. You did a good job.”

“Aw, thanks, beloved. It was my pleasure.” The rain finally starts, and Lance sighs. “I hope our food’s done.” 

“Seriously. I want to eat everything right now.” Keith grabbed the cast iron pan of vegetables while Lance pulled the rolls from the stone oven and grabbed the fish, sliding them off the roasting sticks and into the vegetable pan.

“If not, I’ll make a fire inside and finish it for us. Come on.”

They’re inside just as it starts pouring.

“So… When do we start thinking about names for our kits?” Keith sets their food by the inside fireplace, gets a fire going to keep it warm.

“Uh… I’m not sure.” Lance peels off his wet shirt, dropping it on the floor. “My grandmother dictated my and Allura’s name before my mother was even of legal age. Depending on which characters you use, ‘Lancel’ means ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, or it can mean ‘bloody ruler’.”

“Well that’s a bit on the nose.” Keith scoops BleepBloop into his arms, scratching his little belly. “Which characters do you use?”

“My grandmother was an extremely unpleasant person. I suspect she wished for ‘bloody ruler’, but she died before I was born. My father chose ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, most likely to spite her... What does your name mean?” Lance’s head pops out of a fresh shirt.

“No idea. I’d have to go to Earth to find that out, and no one alive knows where it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you want our kits to be like you?” Keith pulls a bread roll from the tray, tearing off half and handing it to Lance. He’ll start out slow, so he doesn’t get nauseous, but Keith’s determined to start gaining weight as quickly as he can. ‘Just in case’, as with most everything he does these days. He’s even dialed back on his training, choosing not to resume his sessions with the Blade following the end of his season.

“I’d rather they be like you. I’m untested, and have little in the way of practical skills. You’ve proven your resilience, and your strength. I want them to have that.” Lance throws himself down in his chair by the table.

“I hope they have your mercy,” Keith whispers. He hops up to sit on the table, planting one of his feet between Lance’s legs. “Your balance. Your ability to learn something new. To listen… You teach them how to be charismatic and leader-y, and I’ll teach them how to kill without remorse and make a shelter and fire starting with two sticks.”

“Oh, Ancients! They’ll be unstoppable!” Lance laughs, scales glowing with humor.

“As long as they’re better than Seran and Renli’s kits, I’ll be happy.”

“That is an incredibly low bar, beloved.” Lance laughs, kissing Keith’s knee. 

“Yeah… They deserve higher expectations. Not the best, because that’s not fair, or our best, because that’s fucking stupid, but I want them to be their best, and always strive to improve. Like you.”

“Like us.” Lance smiles. “And I absolutely agree. The other side of that is that it’s up to us to figure out how our children can use their various strengths and weaknesses to succeed in the high-ranking positions they’ll eventually hold.”

“You’re Alfor-ing,” Keith mutters. “You mean we’ll take an interest in our children and be invested in their lives because we’re their parents. We’ll encourage them to pursue their passions and apply them in a way that befits their status, because we love them and are involved in their lives.”

“Oh. Right…” Lance’s ears droop just a little. He looks sad. Probably because Lance never had a parent do that for him.

“Hey.” Keith nudges the inside of Lance’s thigh with his toe. When those blue-and-pink eyes meet his face, Keith’s mind draws a blank. What does he say to someone who’s just been painfully reminded of the neglect he’s experienced? “I love you.”

Lance cracks a smile. “I love you, too.”

“You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me, too.” Lance sighs. “Can I have a hug?”

Keith smiles, sliding off the table into Lance’s lap, straddling him as he drapes his arms over the man’s shoulders. “Absolutely.”

Keith kisses his mate, careful to work a smile into it. He forgets sometimes just how desperate Lance is to break his family’s cycle, just how afraid he must be of following in his father’s footsteps (or lack thereof). To Keith, Lance is the man who can’t wait to be a father, who’s champing at the bit to be a king. He’s the man who wants to fix everything, even if he knows it’s not possible.

Tipping forward, Lance rests his head against Keith’s collarbone, and Keith twines fingers in his hair.

“My good man, don’t be sad.” Keith kisses, lays his cheek against his head. “You’re going to be amazing, I just know it.”

“I know.” The Altean draws in a great breath. “I know. I just-”

“Shh…” Keith rubs circles into Lance’s back, somewhat alarmed by his mate’s sudden distress. “We’ll do great, my love. I know it.”

“But why couldn’t he?” Lance whispers, voice trembling dangerously. Keith’s hands freeze. “I wanted it so badly.”

“I don’t know why. But you so deserved it.” Keith’s comforting skills reach their limit. “It’s one of the many reasons I want to punch him in his stupid face.”

Lance laughs, kisses the side of Keith’s neck. “There’s the Keith I know and love.”

“Sorry. I suck at comforting people.”

“It’s okay. You’re amazing at comforting me.” Lance pulls back, smiles up at the man in his lap, eyes rimmed with just a bit of red. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Keith leans down, kisses him deeply, hands cradling his face, thumbs sliding over his scales. Lance’s hands find their way under his thighs, lifting him up as he stands, setting him back on the table.

“Mm, how much do you love me?”

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“Never. Not ever.” 

Keith believes his mate, one hundred percent. Not just because Lance’s hands are still on him, but because he just does. 

That doesn’t at all mean that he can’t mess with the man a little.

“We should confront your daddy issues more often.”

“Rude!”

 Quintants later, Lance and Keith have found something to keep them busy: their duties. After movements of neglect, Lanval reports that the people miss them, finding Alfor and Coran (mostly Alfor), less approachable. As a result, the pair are wandering through the imperial library, researching methods of population control and agricultural sustainability. Growth and capacity are constantly at war.

Krolia is on her own ‘research’ mission: how the fuck do Alteans actually think?

“Gentlemen.” Krolia nods as she approaches Shiro and Adam’s table on the other end of the library. “How are you?”

“Well enough,” Shiro says. Adam doesn’t respond, busy composing a message to an associate, named Lanval. Apparently this ‘Lanval’ serves as a sort of spy for the princes, keeping tabs on the general concerns and opinions of the commonwealth and court. “You?”

Krolia hums, lounging in a free chair. “I learned something quite interesting today.” Shiro hums. Adam momentarily lifts his gaze. “It would seem that Crown Prince Lancel isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Mnh. sounds about right.” Adam doesn’t seem to care how useless his comment is. “How exactly did you finally come to that conclusion?”

“He said he missed Keith while he was in season.”

“Ah.” Adam finally tears his attention away from his desktop, smile more of a smirk than anything else. “He would. He’s sentimental like that.”

“I assumed he liked it any way he could get it, but it seems otherwise.”

“It’s an Altean thing, I think,” Shiro says. “They’re a reserved species, but generally respectful toward their spouses, despite their promiscuity. They can also be very playful with their mates, particularly in private. I’ve observed Keith engaging in playful banter with Lance on more than one occasion. I imagine Lance values that.”

“Lance values what?” Keith peeks his head around a bookshelf.

“You’re affectionate degradation of his character,” Adam says, smiling at the young prince. “Apparently he missed you during your season.”

Keith snorts. “What a dork.” The prince snatches up a scroll. “Hey, dork!”

“Yes, beloved?!” Lance calls from a different aisle.

“You’re a dork!”

“And you’re stuck with me, so what does that make you?” Lance rounds a corner. “Come help me with this. Apparently one of our mines on Arus is compromised. We need to write an emergency missive to close it, because apparently neither the colony nor the natives have the authority to halt production.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Keith frowns.

“We can revisit native citizens’ rights after we get them and our colonists out of dangerous mines, okay?”

“So long as we revisit it… Guess we’d better get to work. Also, we should bring back some windchimes for Hunk’s new kit. Kits love them.”

Krolia watches the two head off to wherever their desk is, Lance taking Keith’s hand, the two bickering back and forth about which one of them is more of a dork. Keith’s tail curls around the altean prince’s ankle, ultimately preventing his escape as he drives a hand into the man’s white hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions.

The prince’s shrieks carry throughout the quiet room.

Adam props his head on his fist, eyeing Shiro with amusement. “Any other anthropological observations you’d like to share, captain?”

“You’re not as chilly as you want everyone to think.”

“Excuse me?” Adam glares, bristling.

“Settle down.” Shiro sips his tea. “I was speaking of your entire species, not you. Though it is interesting that you-”

“Stop talking, or I will make you.”

Krolia settles back in her chair, watching the pair banter themselves, though not in nearly as boisterous a fashion. But before long, her eyes and ears slide in the direction of her son and his problematic mate.

It’s long been her belief that the best thing someone could be is someone like Akira. Someone who’s equal parts frustrated and optimistic, and not above putting their foot down and digging their heels in like a stubborn child. Able to learn, able to understand, able to reach out and extend themselves to others, no matter how different.

Creeping up to observe the pair, watching Lance pour over documents and old, outdated policy, Krolia can’t help but realize that the young Altean is in many ways quite similar to her own mate, right down to the way he’s always giving Keith at least a modicum of his attention, even if it’s to annoy him.

She hates to admit it, but her son could do much, much worse.

With that in mind, Krolia approaches the boys' table. "Have you investigated inspection and mining maintenance procedures and regulations? Perhaps there is some underlying cause."

Lance leans back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. Finally he nods. "I haven't." There's so much caution in his eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to assist with this? We'd appreciate it."

Krolia nods, waiting for Lance to transfer the appropriate documents. A quick scan reveals the problem. "This is extremely outdated, given our peoples' current understanding of physics and changes in mining practices. Let me pulls some documents and I can help you boys draft something new."

Keith wraps his hands around Lance's arm, whispers something in his ear. Lance smiles, nods. "If you would, we'd be very grateful. If you can do that, then we can come up with a plan to help implement new procedures, and provide any resources needed to transition to more appropriate protocols."

It's an unspoken thing, the way Lance gestures for her to sit at their table upon her return, the way he makes room for her books beside his own. When Keith makes tea, there are three cups. When they call for a servant to bring them food, Lance requests three meals. A simple choice -her simple, agonizing choice- means that once again, Krolia has an open seat at her son's table.

She doesn't miss how Lance nudges Keith, the silent look they share. She doesn't miss Keith's smile as he turns back to his letter.

Worth it.

[hystericalcherries]

aeon (6/6)

Pairing: Keith/Lance Words: 10.5k Rating: M Warnings: mild violence Tags:  Post-Season/Series 07, quantum abyss, Flashbacks, Flashforwards, Prophetic Visions, Visions in dreams, Mind Control, Dimension Travel, Boys Being Boys, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron) when the going gets tough... the tough write fix-it fics, Allura (Voltron) Lives, because fuck you jds and lm

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 

Summary:

Keith does not leave the quantum abyss untouched.

“Home can be anything, you know,” Lance says in lieu of a conversation starter.

Slivers of moonlight filter through the blinds above their heads, casting lines of truth across the sheets. Lance tilts his head forward and a band slides over his eyes, catching the ocean in them and drawing Keith into their rolling tides. And as distracted as he is, he doesn't put up a fight when a hand clasps his own, reeling them heartward.

“Home is just something you can come back to.” His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of a nightshirt, the v-neckline falling loose to reveal a sharp collarbone, and Keith feels his breath hitching. “Something that keeps you grounded.”

READ IT ON AO3

The day of the Alliance Feast comes and Keith finds himself sulking in a corner as he watches an alien chat Lance up.

Allura had stuffed them all in Altean formal wear, color-coded and high-collared, capes draped tastefully across their shoulders. The material of the suits are surprisingly breathable despite all its excess, stretching and bunching up in just the right places to cut them all into impressive figures. The princess had been very particular in how she wanted them all to look and had forced herself into more than one fitting room back at the Garrison; Shiro’s hair is slicked back, Hunk’s headband folded into the pocket of his jacket, Keith’s loose ponytail tied with a red ribbon, Lance’s waist adorned by a silver chain and Pidge’s glasses exchanged for a sleeker pair. If the star-eyed looks they’ve been receiving ever since they landed on New Altea is anything to go by then she must have succeeded.

Lance, Keith must admit, looks particularly dashing. His suit makes his shoulders look broader and it’s a problem. More so because it’s obvious that the red paladin isn’t the only one to take notice, more than one individual coming forward to introduce themselves to the friendliest member of Voltron.

Keith glares.

The alien doesn't take the hint and keeps talking, going so far as to place one of their four hands on the blue paladin’s upper arm when they laugh. Lance looks pleased.

“You should go talk to him.”

A crick forms in his neck when he jerks to attention at Allura’s voice. She fills up the once empty space next to him, having somehow snuck up on him, wearing low heels and a pale pink dress; she looks the epitome of aristocratic, with jewels dripping across her collarbone and dangling from her ears. His heart jumps at her words when they finally register, unable to help the quick glance he sends to the tables. “No,” he says immediately, turning away when he catches the unilu delegate peering at him from over the blue paladin’s shoulder. “He looks fine where he is. I don’t want to butt in.”

The princess frowns, obviously displeased at his reluctance. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip in a move that’s far too Keith-ish in nature for his liking. “You know, Lance loves to dance and—”

“Awesome,” Keith grouses.

Allura glares. “—and I’m sure he would say yes to one if someone asked.”

There’s no denying that the blue paladin has had no shortage of dance partners; ever since the band had started playing the boy had been on and off the dancefloor, spinning past him with someone new every few minutes. Some bitterness sneaks into his tone when he says, “I’ve noticed.”

“Now that’s not fair. You’ve had all evening to make your move. Don’t be upset that others are doing what you can’t.”

The words sting and Keith isn’t quick enough to hide it.

Allura’s expressions soften and he bristles a bit, less at the thought of being the recipient of someone’s pity and more knowing that he’s actively doing everything to deserve it. “Keith,” she says, and it’s soft and encouraging. “You are one of the most courageous people I know and you’ve faced things far more imposing than this.” She ducks her head to look him in the face. “It’s just Lance.”

“I know,” he says eventually, making a visible effort to relax. He sighs. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up,” she assures, touching his arm. “Lance is a fellow paladin and, more importantly, your friend. You’ve been through much together and nothing could break the bond you have because of it.” She pauses, carefully manicured hands digging into his sleeve. “And if he’s the one from those visions of yours then talking to him would be the first step towards the rest of your life.”

He really regrets telling her about the flashes.

“It’s him, isn’t it.” It’s more of a fact than a question and Keith can’t even conjure up the energy to deny it.

Lance laughs again.

At his silence, Allura gasps. “I knew it! Oh! How romantic! It’s just like those books Hunk recommended to me, but better because—well, this is real, isn’t it?” Her hands clap together excitedly. “To think, the history you share is just a precursor of what is to come. It must be destiny!”

“Allura,” he warns.

“If he is from the visions, then you mustn’t just talk to him. You have to dance with Lance too! Keith, you absolutely must!”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“And why not?”

“Because, well, we’re not… it’s complicated. Plus, I don’t really dance.”

Allura tuts at him, booping him on the nose as she takes on a tone of one talking to an ignorant toddler. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Come on. It will be fun.”

“And what if I don’t wanna have fun?”

The princess purses her lips and she tugs at his sleeve impatiently. He resists when she makes a move to drag him away from his corner, twisting away from her with a scowl. Knowing of her strength and how it outmatches his by miles, he karate chops her other hand when it reaches out for him. She gasps, offended at his defiance, and then redoubles her efforts.

“Why must you be so difficult?” she growls, circlet slipping over one pointed ear as she shoves herself in his space. Her elbow digs uncomfortably in his gut as her other hand fumbles for the wrist of his hand. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Allura, I swear—”

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”

The two freeze and it’s almost comical, getting caught like this—the red paladin and the altean princess, important figures in their own right, mid-scuffle and cursing at each other—yet Keith doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t laugh because while they had been arguing, a figure had snuck up on them. A figure with very broad shoulders.

Allura recovers first. “Lance!”

The boy belonging to the name smiles. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Of course!” Allura gushes, letting go of Keith and all but pushing him at the blue paladin regardless of the fact that he hadn’t specified who he wanted to dance with. She takes a moment to fix her appearance, smoothing down hair and adjusting her dress, looking haughty. “I’ve gotta find Coran and make sure he’s not overdoing it on the nunvill, so you boys enjoy yourselves.”

And with that, she leaves. Leaves Keith in the middle of a party with his bonafide first and only crush.

He looks up and meets Lance’s eyes. It’s been months since he came back from the abyss and the half inch he had over the other boy is gone now, making them eye level. He knows neither of them are done growing and their heights will continue to change but Keith finds that he likes it this way for now.

“So,” Lance starts, biting his lip. “Dance?”

A quick look across the hall and his stomach flutters nervously. “I’ve never really…”

But Lance is already moving right along, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dancefloor. Dazed, Keith lets it happen, focus torn between their clasped hands and the back of the other’s head. The crowd parts easily for them, curious looks and whispers following at their heels only to be hastily hidden when he glances away from the pinking ears of his partner. Lance must be determined to ignore their audience, expertly spinning Keith around to face him and guiding their bodies in a starting position.

The music is already in full swing and Lance takes a step to match that of the other dancers, gently tugging Keith along in a strange mix of a waltz and shuffle, confident where he is stiff.

After maybe a half a minute where they steadily avoided each other’s eye, Keith speaks up. “Is this something we do now? Dance.”

Blue eyes flicker past his face and he doesn't have to imagine the silent conversation that's happening over his shoulder. Lightning quick he looks behind him, but, much to his chagrin, Hunk has already schooled his expression from where he sits at one of the many tables and is staring back at him with all too innocent eyes.

Lance clears his throat and Keith turns back to a nervous smile. “Yeah, I thought we could try it out… See how you—er, we feel about it.”

There must have been something in the drink he had earlier of his because Keith can feel himself melting.

“It’s nice,” he says, watching as the other boy’s smile turns into something more lighthearted. “I’m not very good but, yeah, it’s… it’s nice.”

Eyes twinkle in the warm light. “I think it’s nice too.”

There’s a bit of a hitch in the music and Keith spies a few of the musicians being switched out, exchanging string instruments for ones that look like a cross between trumpets and accordions. It must be getting later in the evening because some of the dancers leave, replaced by a much younger crowd. He spots a few familiar faces, both humans—Atlas technicians, old classmates, Garrison faculty—and aliens—bounty hunters, altean colonists, royal dignitaries—all unabashedly shedding their professional appearance in exchange for a good time. The energy pulses upwards, pushing them closer together and causing the weird rumbling in Keith’s chest to give way to butterflies, transparent wings brushing along the inside of his ribs in a way that has his heart thumping madly.

When the song increases in tempo Keith accidentally steps on Lance’s foot. He cringes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance assures. ”Just lighten your steps and pretend it’s a training session. Move with me, not against me.”

Keith tries the step again and nearly trips over his own feet when he miscalculates how many times his partner would step back, causing a table of girls nearby to twitter with amusement at the sight of him. Lance doesn’t mock him for his clumsiness, just adjusts his hand so it presses a bit lower on his back; Keith feels the touch like a brand, barely catching onto the way his palm shifts in accordance to the next step.

It gives Keith something to focus on and, eventually, he falls in line with the steps.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Keith snorts and Lance grins, proud. “Not really—not like you anyway. How did you get to be so good?”

“I'm Cuban,” he says as a means of explanation, swinging his hips leisurely with the beat a drummer starts playing, obviously enjoying himself. It’s… distracting. Especially when the song changes to something with more bass and he lines their bodies together, starting up a heavy sway that Keith falls into after the initial jerk of surprise. Then there’s a thigh fitting between his legs and Lance is letting go of one hip to guide his gloved hand to the small of his back, casual as can be as the boy rolls back into the touch.

“This is, um.” Keith takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there are many opportunities for this out in the desert. You really missed out—the Garrison dances always ended up this way. Didn’t matter how many chaperones they assigned.” Lance’s voice is level with his ear, their cheeks brushing as they move to the music, causing goosebumps when he feels the contradictory smooth-roughness of the other’s freshly shaved skin. “But we’ll count this as making up for all the ones you missed. Better late than never, right?”

Breathing is difficult but Keith manages it, if only just. “Right.”

Lance makes a noncommittal hum, pressing closer to let a couple trip pass them. Keith watches them go from his view over Lance’s shoulder, only slightly scandalized when the shorter alien unabashedly slips a hand over their date’s backside. It causes his hand to twitch, the pad of his thumb finding the indent of his partner’s lower back through his suit. With a startling clarity, Keith realizes how far his hand has fallen and tenses, waiting for Lance to notice and take offense.

But nothing happens. No one comments on how close the two paladins have gotten, probably because they aren’t the only ones to do so. The dancefloor is a mesh of bodies, all moving to whatever dance they know and hiding them from the view of the spectators sitting at the tables. He’s not pushed away in disgust, nor is he laughed at. Instead, Lance drapes his free arm over Keith’s shoulder, smoothing down the baby hairs at the back of his neck.

It gives Keith the courage to glance over; he spies half-lidded eyes and a warm flush under golden skin. Enticed by the fluttery feeling low in his gut, he settles his remaining arm over the other’s bicep, just above the edge of his elbow-length gloves. A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, and the pulse under his fingers jumps.

He’s never been held like this before, as if he was the beginning of an addictive end.

The song—the fifth they had danced to and Keith deliriously wonders where the time had gone—starts to come to a climax, and Lance stirs. He looks at the band, then the other dancers and then Keith. There’s something in his eyes and it’s like taking a deep breath before diving under, adrenaline-inducing, willing to be pulled wherever the current takes him. The moment builds like a cresting wave—higher and higher, curling with seafoam and impending desire—until Keith is sure that they're going to crash together, that he’s going to lean in closer and kiss him. Involuntarily, he slips his eyes closed.

“And now, the big finish!”

His eyes fly back open. "What—"

But Lance is already twisting them around and throwing himself backwards. And Keith has no choice but to hastily lean with him, biceps flexing as he tightens his grip around Lance’s waist and hastily puts pressure between his shoulder blades. The top of his head barely misses cracking against the floor. Still, Lance cackles like it’s great fun.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Lance says too loudly when they’re back to standing normally, clapping with the rest of the crowd as the band announces their fifteen minute break. The moment officially over. “I usually drop my partners when I try to dip them.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“Eh, you liked it.”

A little called out, Keith hunches his shoulders and scowls. “I did not.”

But Lance goes on like he didn’t say anything, giving him a million-watt smile. “We did pretty well, all things considered. Probably cause we make such a good team.”

And how is Keith supposed to keep things together when he goes and says things like that? All sincere and butterfly-inducing. “Yeah,” he tells the boy, feeling brave and scared and more than himself, making it so that the back of their hands brush. “We really are.”

After that the party winds down.

The crowds thin and people start saying their goodbyes, respectful salutes paving way for hearty handshakes and more than one inebriated embrace. There seems to be a line forming in front of Allura, everyone wanting a final word with the princess before the night is officially over; Keith merely gives a wave as he and Lance pass her by towards where Hunk and Pidge dally around the buffet table, thinking nothing of the quick smile she gives in return before looking at the diplomat talking to her, knowing that he’ll see her tomorrow at their usual movie night.

Hunk is polishing off his plate of what looks to be pigs in a blanket while Pidge shoves leftover hors d'oeuvres into her shoulder pack. “I’ve got to get this recipe,” the former is saying when the pair come within hearing distance, looking up at the sound of their footsteps and doing a triple take before not-so-subtlety nudging his smaller companion with his elbow. With both gazes trained on them, Hunk gives a too-innocent smile. “Looks like you guys had fun. How was the dancefloor?”

“Crowded,” Keith replies at the same time Lance says, “Cozy.”

The yellow paladin’s eyes flicker between them. “Okay, yeah. Well, we were gonna head out soon… Are, um, you guys gonna…”

“It is getting pretty late,” Lance agrees, leaning forward to steal the last bit of the food from Hunk’s plate before slipping around Keith and draping an arm across his shoulders. He pops the finger food into his mouth and makes a show of chewing loudly when Keith frowns. “You’re going back to the Atlas, right?” he asks him, oblivious or uncaring of the two pairs of eyes that dissect the entire interaction. “Do you think I could hitch a ride with you? I’m staying with Veronica tonight and I think she already left.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Lance leans away far enough that he nearly topples the two of them over and Keith has to lightly brace his hand on the other’s waist to better balance them. “See you later, paladudes.”

They four exchange fist bumps and then the red and blue paladin are angling themselves towards the exit, Keith trying not to combust when their arms stay wrapped around each other. More than one eye sticks to them and even more bodies put themselves in front of them to give a deferential goodbye; Lance takes it in stride, giving a sincere wave here and an over-the-top wink there, and it more than makes up for Keith’s own stilted replies. He only blunders once and that’s when Shiro catches his eye over the brim of a champagne glass, smile smug and unbearable.

Finally, they make it to the building’s transport dock where the Black Lion sits docilely.

The forcefield dissipates before Keith even asks and there’s a low rumble in greeting when the pair walk up the ramp, which Lance reciprocates with a light pat to one of the wall panels before following Keith to the cockpit. Then it’s just a means of setting a course to the Atlas and watching the stars pass them by as the mechanical lion does the rest.

The Atlas is empty save for the night shift, all of whom pause in their work up in the control room to watch the Black Lion land and the two paladins that exit it make their way across the room. It is almost eerie how their footsteps sound like a military march in comparison to absolute quiet that reigns once the cabin pressurizer comes online but Keith doesn’t give himself any time to consider it, not when he has a preferable distraction walking alongside him. Lance fills in the silence easily, looking princely as he charms Keith with anecdotes of parties past, laughing alongside him as he recalls the time he had won the Winter Formal crown and the resulting awkward dance that had followed, set to an early century song that he attempts (and fails) to beatbox. It makes the trip up to the floor with their quarters all the more enjoyable and when it’s over, Keith wishes it wasn’t.

Lance flashes a smile at him. “Night, Samurai.”

He sighs in return. “Night, Sharpshooter.”

Then the boy is turning around, disappearing down the hallway with only one look over his shoulder. And Keith, not wanting to look more foolish than he already has by getting caught staring at the spot his crush had occupied, quickly unlocks his door and slips inside.

His mother is in the kitchen, slicing up something that looks like a blue tomato, and looks up when he lingers in the doorway. “You’re back,” she says neutrally, transferring the food to a serving platter and pointedly ignoring the cosmic wolf that watches her every move, drool starting to collect at the base of his largest molar. “How was the party?”

He shrugs. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?”

He shuffles away and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. His neck cranes back, giving him a perfect view of the ceiling tiles. There’s a scorch mark in the top-right corner from when Kosmo had mistaken one of Krolia’s blasters for a chew toy. He squints at it, thinking, and his mind instantly snags onto the phantom brush of thighs and the strum of an alien guitar. Mouth dry and more than a little embarrassed, he squeezes his eyes shut.

The couch dips slightly and then a clawed hand is stroking his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and behind his ear. The gesture quells the loud noise in his chest and he lets his head dip to the side, heated cheek squished against the cool felt of the couch.

“It was maybe more than alright,” he finally answers. For some reason, it’s this admission that had him blushing and curling his toes in secondhand gratification. “I had fun, more fun than I thought I would have anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She doesn’t ask, but he knows she wants to know. Better yet, he wants to tell her.

“Everyone was there.”

She hums and continues to comb through his hair.

“Shiro, Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Lance too.” A pause where he clears his throat, far from casual. “We danced.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was—nice.”

They sit in silence for a bit and his mind lingers on the dance he had shared that evening. He plays it on loop, going over every detail until he could sketch it out on paper, framed and made all the more real. Eventually Krolia stops her grooming in favor of offering him a slice of the strange fruit; he takes it and plops it into his mouth without question, surprised at the sweet taste.

“It’s weird, feeling this way,” he says absently, grounded but with his head in the clouds. “Weird that this is where I am. That life’s like this now.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she tells him with a hum and he would scoff at such a cliche saying if it weren’t for the way his mother says it so genuinely. “Sometimes, it takes a lifetime and a half to find your place in it. I’m glad you’ve found yours.”

The flashes start coming faster and—

—Lance’s warm hand in his as they walk through a line of stalls selling alien wares. Merchants offering gossamer scarfs the same shade as the rising sun and jewelry that shines like they’ve been plucked straight from the night sky. Gaggles of children running through the streets, laughing as they dodge through the crowds. An ornate dagger purchased and gifted—

—fingers gently rubbing a sticky substance over the stretch of his cheek while a voice drones on about the benefits of skincare—

—his shoulder leaned against a doorway as he watches Lance address a class full of recruits, eyes twinkling when they catch sight of him hidden in the shadows. The loud trill of a bell and the shuffle of children eager for lunch, tempered by the arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss bestowed on his cheek—

—the shudder that goes through him as they rock into each other, skin sweaty and breathes loud. Hands gripping his thighs and his teeth nipping at an exposed neck, leaving marks so the world would know who they belonged to, now and to the end. Words whispered in the dark just as stars burst across his vision—

—eyes connecting over a crowd, secretive and happy—

—Keith fumbling with the black box in his pocket as he paces their room, repeating the words he wants to say to the man that he loves, nervous and excited and everything that comes after—

—he never wants them to stop.

They are hanging out in Keith’s room three days after the ball, sitting on the floor and leaning against his bed as they enjoy each other’s presence. Between them, Kosmo rolls onto his back, expecting belly rubs now that they’re no longer distracted by the show they had been watching, ending credits rolling after twenty-three minutes of terrible storytelling and bad animation. Lance is talking with the assumption that Keith will listen, going on loudly about how his character in the show is the main protagonist while delivering pats to the space wolf.

And Keith is… distracted.

Distracted in a sense that he can’t focus—or rather, he can’t stop focusing. On the energetic hand gestures and the expressive emotions that flit across Lance’s face as he speaks, pausing intermittently in order to coo at Kosmo and ask his opinion on things, always answered with a happy pant and an excited tail wag that has the blue paladin nodding sagely before continuing. He focuses on the way he feels now, in this moment, content like he’s never felt before.

A wet tongue licks a stripe up Lance’s cheek and he rears back, half disgusted, half charmed, and Keith can’t keep quiet any longer. Just blurts out, “We should do something this weekend.”

His friend blinks owlishly. “What?”

There’s fire coursing through his veins, invigorating him. It gives him courage to continue, to make so that the flashes are no longer flashes but memories. “I said we should do something this weekend. Do something together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The casualness of the answers makes him think that the boy doesn’t quite understand the request. Assumes what he’s asking is for something they’ve always done. They hang out all the time, yes, but this is different. He wants this to be different.

“No, I mean we should go out this weekend.” Keith sends him a certain look, waiting for Lance to catch on.

He doesn’t catch on. “Huh?”

Dark eyes roll toward the ceiling and Keith shakes his head, and there’s that something again and oh, it’s fondness—it’s a look of fondness quirking his lips.

“What I’m saying is…” He takes a quick moment to shift on his hip so that their knees are almost touching and, after a moment of consideration, Keith slides his hand down and over until the tips of their pinkies bump into each other. “We should go out this weekend, like go on a ride out to town. Whatever you want, really.”

Lance’s blinks once, twice, three times, and—there. Comprehension floods and it takes only half a second before a high pitched noise scratches out of the boy’s throat. His eyes are wide, comically so, and he stares at Keith, mouth parting in an eclipse of a red moon. Then, just as Keith is committing the image to memory, he snaps his mouth shut and visibly shakes himself. “O-okay, I see. You mean like a scouting mission, right? For any lingering drones out in the desert. Well, yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with Shiro—”

“No,” he quickly cuts off, partially frustrated at the gap in communication and partially embarrassed that they would need clearance for what he has in mind. “I meant—a ride together—as in, you and me. No mission. Just us… together.”

The boy swallows loudly and Keith tracks the moment involuntarily.

"Oh.”

A lapse follows, not uncomfortable, but full. Keith buzzes in the aftertaste of his impromptu proposition and holy hell, he just asked Lance out. They’ve still yet to talk about the ball and how they had danced all night, and, despite the looks they receive from their teammates, neither of them have been brave enough to breach the silent agreement of keeping whatever feelings they had to themselves. However, now everything threatens to burst. His heart finally catches up to his words, beating in overdrive as he waits for an answer. But Lance seems not to care for the nervousness pulsing in his veins or the butterflies fluttering in the base of his stomach because he keeps up the uncharacteristic silence. It remains that way for a solid thirty seconds, until, finally, Keith can't take it anymore.

He clears his throat. “So, is that a yes?”

Lance jerks to attention, looking caught. “I, uh, what?”

“Do you want to go?”

Something incredible happens then. It’s wild and previously unthinkable, but Lance blushes.

He blinks and his vision doubles, half of it going auburn in a wash of caribbean light. He is by the waterfront, the sound of crashing waves dissolving into background noise when compared to the breathy laugh that washes over his face. Darkened cheeks lift in a smile that crinkles eyes and Keith goes a bit red himself at the image. The flash indulges him in a scene of utter bliss; velvety sand and supple lips, parting against his own.

Without thought he leans in, chasing the moment not yet passed. It causes present Lance’s eyes to go wide and it’s nothing like the cool burn of his half lidded gaze on the beach, salt drying on his lashes and sun-born freckles prickling his cheeks.

“I—ah, um. I—I’ll go.”

“Yeah?”

Lance looks away and then back. His voice is the quietest he’s ever heard. Almost shy. “Yeah.”

And it really is that easy.

The days go by slow after that, drawling in an agonizing pace. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Nearly stagnant, Keith hangs under time’s dispassionate influence, watching the clock and willing it to move. It’s a blessing when it finally hits five o’clock on the following Saturday. He stops the pacing he had been doing for the past hour and checks his reflection for the sixth time in as many minutes, tucking and untucking his shirt and running a hand in his hair in an futile attempt to tame it. When the results only further his agitation he gives up, collecting his nerves to the best of his ability making his way out the door with the intention of a quiet getaway.

Which makes him startle when he runs into Romelle outside his door, hand raised and poised to knock. “Keith! I've been sent to retrieve you!” He sees her gaze flicker down to take in his outfit—his cleanest pair of jeans, a corded necklace with a hanging Marmora pendant, and a leather jacket so new that its tag is stuffed in his back pocket—and he stops himself from turning back around and locking himself in his closet till the end of time. “Dinner is almost ready and Coran has made the most spectacular—”

“Actually,” he interrupts, unable to maintain eye contact, “I’ve got other plans.”

Romelle opens her mouth, but Keith, knowing the girl’s knack for rambling, is already speeding through the hallway.

Unfortunately for him, the living room is not as empty as he had previously thought. The yellow and green paladin are sitting on the couch, surrounded by a hurricane of blankets and pillows, the leftovers of a raid on Shiro’s candy stache sprawled across the coffee table.

“Aw, Keith, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

Pidge looks up and over her screen, lips curling in a sly grin that instantly puts Keith on edge. “Yeah, Keith, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he says immediately. Then, “Out.”

“Out with Lance I bet. Isn’t your date today?”

Hunk gasps. “You guys are going on a date?”

“How did you…?” He spots his phone on the couch next to her and huffs angrily, stomping over and snatching it back. He quickly unlocks it, frowning when his last conversation with Lance immediately pops up, the other boy having sent a barrage of emojis in affirmation that their outing was still on. “Stop looking through my stuff and for the last time, we aren’t—it’s not a date. We’re just going for a ride, maybe check out the town market. It’s whatever.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a date to me. Hunk, any thoughts?”

Hunk has just one. “It’s totally a date.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. “Don’t you have your own quarters? Why are you even here?”

Pidge leans back, priggish smirk still in tact. “Matt and N-1 are having their rebel friends over and I didn’t want to third-wheel it, so Shiro said I could crash here for the night.”

Keith internally curses Shiro and his mother hen tendencies. Outwardly, he searches for the key card he’s pretty sure he left on the table the night before. His hair falls into his face as he ducks to check under the furniture and he brushes it back behind his ear, thinking maybe it would be more manageable in a ponytail.

“Look at him.” Pidge snickers. “What a schmuck.”

Hunk shushes her with a light pat of the arm. “I think it’s sweet. It means he cares. And don’t you worry Keith, I’m sure Lance will appreciate the effort you put into today. It’s also perfectly normal to be nervous for your first date— ”

“I’m not nervous and it’s not a date.”

Their response is lost when he goes to the office in the next room and searches there. But it’s all for naught because Shiro is a veritable mess when it comes to anything other than flying because there are papers scattered everywhere and it would take hours to file through even half of it.

When he comes back out, Allura has joined them. She perks up at the sight of him, but he ignores her in favor of checking in between the cushions of the armchair. However, Allura is not deterred. “Keith, Pidge and Hunk have just informed me of your date with Lance. If I may, I have some suggestions—”

“I don’t need any suggestions. I just need to leave or I’ll be late.” Pidge squawks indignantly when Keith shoves her to check her side of the couch.

“Yes, you’re right! Punctuality is very important for these types of things. Early duflax gets the wyvin, as Coran always says.” It seems pointless to mention that not once has he ever heard Coran say that. “But if I could impart some advice before you go. Now, I don’t know much about Earthen mating rituals, but Pidge tells me that courting is a common practice here— ”

“I’m not listening.”

“—gifts are imperative for a successful—”

“Can’t hear you.”

“—when you present, do so when tensions are high—”

“Allura, please, stop.”

“—and then, finally, you must lay claim—”

“I’m leaving,” Keith announces loudly, trying and failing to drown out the giggles that come from Hunk and Pidge’s side of the couch. Forget the keycard. It’s not worth this pain. “Bye. I hope you all have a terrible day.”

They are unfazed by his words, grinning like madmen as they wave. He stalks out of the room, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears as he desperately tries to block out the kissy noises Pidge is making. He can’t believe there was a time he was worried that they would be out of his life; he must have been having an existential crisis or something because this is a new level of embarrassing.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly barrels into Shiro on his way out. It’s only the steady grip of his automated arms that Keith doesn’t crack his head against the doorframe and give himself a concussion.

“Whoa there. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Looking for this?”

There, dangling from Shiro’s prosthetic fingers, is a familiar key card.

Keith lets out a deep breath, a whisper of relief cooling down the anxious fire within him by a few degrees. He sends his oldest friend a strained smile and takes them. “Yeah, thanks. Where did you find them?”

“Under the couch with one of my shoes, the holoscreen remote, Hunk’s headband, and Allura’s earrings. It seems like Kosmo’s starting a life of crime.”

He lets out a chuckle, unraveling just a little less. “I should probably put a stop to that.”

Shiro nods, patting his back in that sorta awkward, manly sort of way. It’s encouraging and he steps past the other man with a deep breath. Feeling more like himself, he secures the key card to his belt loop and turns to head down the corridor, promising himself that he’ll only start running when there’s no one to catch him doing it.

“Oh, Keith?”

Keith whips around, nerves already reinflating. “Yeah?”

Shiro fails to keep his smile in check. “Have fun on your date.”

And before he can even begin to retaliate, the door is sliding shut and he’s left there, standing in an empty hallway, red to his tips.

Lance looks nice. Really nice. Really, really, really nice. It’s actually a little distracting how nice he looks.

They had met up at the east end of the loading docks and Keith had fought to keep his cool when he had spotted the tall form of his fellow paladin casually leaning against a security rail. His white v-neck and ripped jeans contrasted with the industrial setting, his denim jacket faded and adorned with a couple of pins, sleeves rolled up to showcase the collection of beaded bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. But what had truly pulled it all together was the smile he had sent Keith upon noticing him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Lance returns. “You clean up good, Mullet.”

The compliment flusters him a little and he nearly walks straight into a support beam, only just managing to avoid it with a side-step that brings him close enough to brush shoulders with Lance. “Thanks. You, uh, you too.”

Unsure of what to say next, he ducks his head and leads them to the area the coordinator had assigned him when he had called in the favor. Section A-26 is large and the usual aircraft that docks there is nowhere to be seen; instead, there his hoverbike sits, scavenged from the Blue Lion’s cave and restored to its previous glory. He hoists himself up into the seat with practiced ease and looks down at Lance expectantly.

Pink tints the other boy’s cheeks, but there’s this mischievous smile on his face as he asks, “Why do you get to drive?”

“Because I’m the one that knows where we’re going.”

“Wow, you actually have a plan. Um, okay, then where are we going? Or is that top secret?” He bounces where he stands, looking for all the word: giddish.

“It wasn’t until you asked.”

Lance looks pleased at the response and climbs up behind Keith.

The hoverbike dips a little at the uneven dispersion of weight and he offers his hand as a brace, blushing faintly when it’s taken. But thankfully, Lance doesn’t see, focused as he is on swinging a leg over the seat and scooting close enough to Keith that his chest brushes sparingly at his back. Then hands are wrapping around his middle, loose, and it’s embarrassing how responsive Keith’s body is to the touch, rolling in one long shiver that’s unmistakable. If Lance notices he doesn’t comment on it.

“Ready to roll,” he says, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

Keith puts on the goggles hidden in the front compartment and passes the extra pair he brought to his back seat passenger. Then it’s a matter of twisting the throttle and feeling the engine come to life beneath them, four hundred pounds of metal under his control. And it’s like it was just yesterday he was speeding across the desert with Shiro, tasting freedom for the first time, his hands gripping the handles like they were always meant to; the circumstance has changed but the feeling hasn’t and Keith, with the luxury knowing that he’s got time on his side, grins and drives.

“Woah!” Lance exclaims when Keith tears out of the loading docks, erupting into laughter when they take a sharp turn at the gates of the Garrison compound and startle the men stationed there.

Then it’s just the open desert road, flat and red-tinged. The torrid heat follows at their backs, rolling alongside tumbleweeds and whistling in the wind that buffets the nose of the hoverbike. Dust swirls under the speeder's anti-gravity fenders, curling over the shadowy silhouettes of cacti that they fly past. It brings the beds of the distance buttes into startling focus, massive against the clear sky and infinite horizon.

It takes twenty minutes to get to their destination.

Keith parks at the outskirts of the town nearest to the Galaxy Garrison, waiting for Lance to dismount before following. Their shoulders brush a bit as they stand side by side, Keith eyeing Lance as he eyes their surroundings curiously. The town market is already in full swing, tents set up and people bustling about, buying and selling wares; already, more than one individual behind a stand is calling out to them, offering a discount if they buy in bulk.

“I thought we could walk around a bit?” he says, hoping that the idea isn't too lame. “And after—well, there’s an arcade in the plaza a few streets down and they’ve got pizza.”

His fears are unfounded because Lance just grins. "Pizza not made out of green goo? Count me in."

Things go smoothly after that. The anxiety bubbling in Keith’s chest eases and it allows him the strength to grab Lance’s sleeve and tug him in the direction of a tent hosting a repository of wind chimes. From tent to tent, they go; browsing at board games from planets even they haven’t been to, giggling over misspelled words on shirts, daring each other to try gross-looking foods and petting every dog they see.

And it’s… fun. Keith is having fun.

Lance is great. He’s nice and funny and smart and actually seems to enjoy hanging out with Keith. He nods along when Keith speaks, insanely attentive, and offers his own input with great enthusiasm. They bicker too, playful jabs volleyed back and forth, easy and natural like it never was in the beginning but is now. And although Keith has never thought himself to be an overly funny guy, he finds that pulling a laugh out of his fellow paladin isn’t all that hard and even sort of a reward on all on its own.

It’s like they fit, slotting together like puzzle pieces—or flashes.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s hand finds Keith’s elbow. He had discarded his jacket just before they started eating, which is doing nothing to help the hot flush rushing to the apple of his cheeks. The corded muscles of forearms on display is near impossible to ignore and Keith’s eyes follow the dips and curves of his arm, the hard muscle leading up to his shoulder, the soft line of his neck, the defined jawline. “Your fries are getting cold.”

It’s the touch that has him pulling out of the confines of his thoughts, physically shaking his head and straightening his shoulders, not wanting to appear anything less than invested.

Naturally, the world seems to think Keith can’t have a single nice thing without a price because it’s just a few minutes into their meal that his phone starts to blow up with messages. A quick glance shows that most are from his mother, with a few from Shiro sprinkled in intermittently. All of the messages are ones of encouragement, some having been sent while they were driving and others steadily ignored when the two had browsed the stalls of the market.

Eventually all the small pings get to be enough that Keith has to silence his phone.

“You’re really popular today,” Lance notes, slathering an alarming amount of ranch onto his pizza. It’s only when he drowns the unsuspecting slice that he catches Keith’s surprised and guilty look that he elaborates, “Dude, your phone has been lighting up all day. I’d be blind not to notice.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

Still, Keith feels the need to explain. “It’s Shiro and my mom. They’re… checking up on me.”

That gets a light laugh out of Lance. He brings out his own phone, showing Keith the mass of notifications on his lock screen. “I get that. I’ve gotten at least five texts asking if you’re secretly an axe murderer. I hope three years in space is enough time to confidently say that I wasn’t lying when I told them you weren’t. Would really put a damper on the day.”

“I don’t even own an axe.”

Lance’s grin grows and when he puts away his phone to continue eating, he doesn’t reclaim the few inches of space he had given away in order for Keith to see the screen. Their elbows knock a few times, but Keith doesn’t mind.

They leave the plaza in a good mood, making their way back to the hoverbike while they talk about nothing and everything. They only stop when they mount the vehicle and when Lance doesn’t ask Keith where they’re going he decides that he doesn’t want the day to be over quite yet, so he revs the throttle and heads toward the direction he knows his shack is. He eventually leads them to a hill that he and his father used to frequent when he was younger, an escape from the world long before the stars were something to shoot for.

It’s an easy hike up the hill and when they settle by the edge, their pinkies are touching.

“You can’t do that,” he says on their fourth game of tic-tac-toe when Lance brushes the dirt and erases his wobbly X, shifting it over a spot so that it blocks Keith’s next move. “That’s cheating.”

“No, Keithy boy, that’s what I call winning.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Que pursed lips and a sly side-eye. “If it’s not, then why did you dress up for today, huh? Trying to one up me in style too?”

“This is what I usually wear.”

“Pah-lease. Like I don’t know Shiro’s handiwork when I see it. Dude’s got an eye for colors and he did you a solid keeping with the red. Bet he put up such a fuss when you kept the fingerless gloves—they scream embarrassing scene phase that never really went away.” Lance laughs when he doesn’t immediately counter the accusation and it must fuel him because he continues. “I bet you were upset when you couldn’t find any eyeliner for our date—”

As if struck by lightning, Keith straightens.

“—probably used it all up making yourself look like an edgy, space raccoon going to some street race—”

Our date, Lance had said. He had called this a date. They were on a date right now. Officially. The two of them, together.

“—being emo. But, I mean, whatever works, you know? Sometimes you just gotta paint your nails black and—mmph!”

Keith’s kiss lands on his upper lip, hard and dry.

It’s quick, over and done within a matter of seconds. Lips tingling and heart hammering, Keith pulls back, soul leaving his suddenly flushed body when he realizes he can still feel the other’s breath on his face. He must remain in his catatonic state for longer than he realizes because then Lance’s giving him this particular frown and saying, “What was that?”

With nothing else to do, he shrugs helplessly. “It was a kiss.”

“I know what a kiss is.” Eyes search his. “Why did you kiss me? ”

“I wanted to,” he says simply. “Was that not okay?”

“No, that wasn’t… No, it was cool.”

“Cool,” Keith repeats.

Lance scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I liked it.”

“Me too,” he adds, looking down. A good portion of their game has been accidentally wiped away and he redraws it, purposefully putting all the X’s and O’s in their respective spots before Lance had decided to remake the rules. He nudges the other boy’s foot with his own, biting back a smile when they’re hooked together. “We can, um, stay here? If you want?”

“I’d like that.”

They stay long enough to watch the sun dip under the horizon.

As dates go, it’s the best he’s ever had.

Later, when he’s home and high off the promise of a second date, he walks into the kitchen to find his friends congregated despite the late hour.

“So,” Allura starts as soon as he walks in, boots loud on the linoleum floor, trying to appear casual as she leans against the counter and just failing. It doesn’t help that the space mice are nearly tripping over her hair as they peer at Keith from over her shoulder, adding four tiny pairs of eyes to the many already scrutinizing his every move. “You’re back awfully late.”

Romelle is no better, inspecting her nails even as her ears twitch in his direction. “Yes, how did it go?”

There’s a plate of cookies on the island counter, comically shaped like the lions and dressed in an assortment of colors. He picks up the only red one on top and bites into it, humming at its surprising sweetness. Knowing his audience still expects an answer, he attempts an aloof shrug and nails it. “It was fine.”

There’s a pause and Keith can tell something is coming. He doesn’t know what exactly, but the warning signs are all there, flashing neon when Allura steeples her fingers and gives him a look.

“And the other… thing?”

“What other thing?”

“Why your kiss with Lance, of course.”

He nearly drops the sweet in his hand and immediately goes to look through the kitchen pass-through, spotting the rumpled state of the pillows and blankets by the living room window looking out to the barrack’s hallway. That and the smudge of chocolate on the window sill, coupled with the candy wrappers sticking out of Pidge’s hoodie pouch, can only mean one thing. “Were you watching?”

“No,” Romelle and Hunk immediately deny just as Allura and Pidge say, “Yes.”

Keith fumbles for a plausible reaction. His friends had undoubtedly seen the goodbye kiss that had been exchanged between him and Lance when the latter had insisted on walking him home; it had been a memorable kiss and Keith had maybe lost himself to it for longer than he’s willing to admit, but that’s something else entirely. A little helplessly, he searches the room for a means of end for this absolute embarrassment. He finds none. “That’s—I can’t believe—uncool!”

“Lance texted me almost immediately after,” Hunk offers, as if that makes up for his eavesdropping and then denial of said eavesdropping. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how you sprung one on him. You don’t really beat around the bush, do you?”

Shiro, the traitor, nods. He ignores Keith’s death glare and takes a sip of his tea, eyes crinkling with mirth over the rim of his mug. “Keith has always been very straightforward in what he wants. A real go-getter.”

It’s at that time that Coran makes an appearance, dressed in an obnoxiously orange pajama set with a matching hat, but any hope Keith has of the older man causing a distraction and, by default, a new topic change dissipates when he asks, “Oh, are we talking about Keith and Lance’s kiss? Congratulations Keith, I hear it had quite the impact.”

Pidge looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh. “Yeah, way to go in for the kill, Keith.”

“Can we stop talking about this?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Stop talking. Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Thankfully, they listen and grow quiet. It doesn’t stop the looks that are thrown his direction, especially with Allura nearly vibrating in her slippers in the effort to capture his gaze, but it’s easy to scowl and turn away. He snatches the drink Shiro holds, ignoring the other’s surprised whine, and takes a sip, ready to head to bed and purge this conversation from his mind, never to be brought up again—

“Did you use tongue?”

Keith chokes.

Hunk merely hums. “Yeah, didn’t look like it.”

Keith thought he knew what love was.

It had been an easy thing, once upon a time. It had been his dad’s hugs after a long day, the blade left to him from a mother he didn’t know, a pat on the back following a perfect maneuver from a brother he found. It was as simple as looking up at the sky and letting himself get lost, for space was everything he had ever wanted, vast and exciting and impossible. Constant and safe and easy, a look to the heavens that held every dream.

But this is new.

New in that he is utterly blindsighted and unprepared for when it happens. A change in heart, from wistful ache to hopeful relief, sudden in the wake of new love. Stitched together through time and soft words, it beats again. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, it goes, drumming loudly against his chest, swelling at touches that burn like supernovas, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Even more goosebump-inducing than the fire in his chest is the response it gets. Because, startling enough, the feeling is reciprocated.

No words have been said but the thought is there. It comes through in the accidental brushes that turn to lingering caresses. It’s the stretch of an arm thrown over wide shoulders, heads dipped closer as casual words are exchanged. It’s the lack of space as they sit, thighs pressed firmly together and feet idly kicking. It’s the pluck of pink petals out of dark hair, absent-minded, curling in the breeze. It’s the hand pressed against a lower back, feather-light as it guides them closer and onward.

Everything is the same, but different.

Following the date, they are still Lance and Keith, still stubborn and opinionated and more than willing to call each other out, but now—now, they’re more. Keith can talk strategy for restoration while their hands are clasped under the table; can steal a kiss during a spar and, while the other is distracted, sweep his legs right out from underneath him and ensure his victory; can argue the integrity of putting pineapple on pizza for three hours while cuddled under Lance’s arm; and can even sneak the boy into his room when Shiro and his mom are out on call, leaving the door closed and the lights off. He’s allowed to do these things—encouraged, even, if Lance's pleased as punch looks are anything to go by—to look, to touch, to hold. It’s a recently discovered niche in which they fall into, each eager to explore, and once they find their line, Lance makes a point of tiptoeing it. And Keith—well, Keith can't find it in himself to complain.

(“Like this,” the Lance of his flashes murmurs to him one night as he gets ready for bed—only for the words to be spoken again three days later as they curl into each other on the beat-up couch in his shack. “I like it like this.”)

Life shapes into something remarkable in the days of after. It becomes a certainty that the flashes had promised and Keith sometimes can’t believe it, that he gets this. Gets this and more. Because not that long ago, he had nothing—he was nothing—scraping by, sneering at everything he couldn’t have just to hide how it hurt to be denied the love he so desperately craved. But that’s the past and though it shapes him, it is not him. He is here, today, and soon, tomorrow too.

Tomorrow and every day that comes after.

In a menagerie of light, meteor showers and space whales, Keith dreams.

Even so long apart, the abyss is a physical thing inside him. It curls inside in the space behind his heart while he sleeps, coveting each heartbeat like a dragon to a horde; time does not exist in this plane and each heart beat, a remembrance to what he has lived through and what he will live through, is too enticing to pass up. It croons out a soft lullaby, asking for one last look.

Keith gives it.

It’s the sand between his toes and lips meeting his own, sun-warm and pliant to the lazy breeze. It’s the hot puff of breath at his neck while frantic hands explore. It’s the ring on his finger and the sip of champagne, glasses clinking in a toast made. It’s the weight of a child on his chest, calm and innocent, snoring lightly as a small hand fists his shirt. It’s the dip of a mattress every night, for the rest of his nights.

Keith wakes up and knows that’s the last flash he’ll ever have.

On the first day of the rest of his life Lance challenges Keith to a race.

It’s not the first time one of them has issued such a dare and it surely won’t be a last, but Keith still treats it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. He squares his shoulder and steps up to the plate, toe to toe, staring Lance in the eye as he accepts. It’s like old times, even with the newness between them, rearing up in the deliberate way Lance tilts his head, chin jutting out in that stubborn fashion of his, the crook of his eyebrow and the curl of his lips dangerous in ways Keith is only just getting used to.

Nevertheless, the day finds them back at the loading docks, convincing the Atlas crew to let them borrow another speeder. When Keith has signed the proper paperwork he turns to find Lance already seated on one of the hoverbikes. The red one.

Keith squints and Lance grins, but lets it go with a soft huff. He walks over to the gray bike and hoists himself with little effort, straddling the sleek seat and making himself familiar with the controls.

“Ready?” he asks once he's done.

“Born ready,” is Lance’s answer.

And, well, Keith can't let a challenge like that stand.

Without further ado, he revs the engine and shoots down the catwalk. He hears the beginning of a surprised squawk before the wind is boxing his ears, tugging at his hair, chasing away everything until it is just him and the road.

Flying is in his blood. It’s been a part of him since as long as he can remember. It was there when he sat atop his father’s shoulders, arms spread wide and leaning back as far as he dared, staring up, up, up. Fondly, he recalls the way big hands had grasped his tiny ankles and the voice, deep and honest, quoting, Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

He had been too young to understand the words then, but he thinks he understands them now.

Though the most air he gets this time around is a particularly steep ledge over a slim ravine a quarter of a mile east from Galaxy Garrison property, it still feels the same. Like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time, lungs expanding until he is weightless, free. Free to be who he is, even if that is a boy quick to anger and slow to love.

And Keith likes who he is now. Likes who he can be—with Krolia, with Shiro and the team, with Lance.

In the end, Keith wins the race.

It’s a close call and his heart races at the thought of it. Because Lance is grinning that absurd grin, eyes crinkling with the force of it, and his hair is a mess, windblown and highlighted gold by the sun. The white shirt that clings to him is twisted and Lance makes a halfhearted effort to fix it as he quiets his hoverbike’s engine and starts talking in compensation, mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I almost had you at that last bend,” he is saying, leaning back in his seat so that his torso is one sleek slant. “I shouldn't have hesitated on the acceleration—I guess I’m just not an adrenaline junkie like you, but hey, now that I know the angle, it’ll be different. So I say we go around again. Two out of three wins. Loser has to help Coran clean the—Keith? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

It’s not a flash, but it feels like one.

“Keith?” Shoulders rise as Lance angles his head to catch his gaze, honest concern coloring those beautiful eyes. They aren’t that close, hovebikes parked perpendicular to one another, but he swears he can see the universe reflecting in dark navy. Planets colliding and forming, spinning in orbit around a dilated pupil. “Hey, man, what’s wr— ”

“Date me.”

The words are out of his mouth before he has time to really think about them and what they mean.

Lance splutters. “What?”

But now that the idea has been introduced. Keith can't deny its appeal; to keep what they have, in all its stubborn sincerity and wild attraction, going for as long as they live. Perhaps even further than that. “Date me,” he says again, with more conviction. A pause. “Please. Please date me.”

A moment, then—

“You just have to beat me at everything, don't you?” Lance starts, loud enough to be considered yelling, but having none of the thunderous anger usually associated with the volume. “Can't even give me this one thing, can you? Well, the joke’s on you—cause it was going to be great! I had everything planned out and it was going to be the most romantic thing ever! Would've blown this disaster out of the water, I'm telling you!” He stands and, uncaring of the wobble it gives under his weight, marches purposefully across the wing of his bike until they’re parallel to one another. One of his hands waves madly about, flying across the entire range of their surroundings before gesturing to Keith himself. “Candles and rose petals everywhere! Hunk was gonna cook something nice and we would've danced and—and you were gonna swoon! Straight into my arms! There would've been kissing and everything! The whole shebang!”

Keith furrows his eyebrows, lost. “What?”

But Lance blows past his confusion and slumps to the side in an expulsion of energy, mumbling, “God, you're such a jerk.”

Hands move to grip the front of his shirt, the only warning before the entire weight of his maybe-boyfriend is forced upon him. Keith feels the wisp of eyelashes fluttering against the column of his neck as Lance smooshes his nose into the junction there, mumbling words and noises he can't hope to translate. He returns the clumsy embrace automatically, winding his arms around the other’s waist and resting his cheek on a soft, brown crown of hair.

“So… yes?”

Lance laughs a watery laugh, deliriously happy, and leans back to stare him straight in the eye, a whirlwind of blue caught in a crystal ball of stars. The grip on his shirt loosens, fingers trailing up his chest until they tease the nape of his neck. “Of course it's a yes, you absolute loser.”

Keith frowns even as his heart sings, melody erupting into fireworks so loud he might go deaf. “See, it's stuff like that last part that really mix me up.”

“Oh my gosh, just shut up and kiss me.”

So he does.

Time, like most things in Keith’s life, is something he keeps close.