Chapter Text
Della looked entirely alien sitting at the table in the dining hall on the Castle of Lions. Not because she was green, or because of her ears, as many other alien species had been welcomed before her without bat of an eye. It was instead the way she sat up straight and carried herself with an air of dignity that was even above any Altean princess. No, she's not dignified, Keith decided after watching her with scrutiny, stuck up.
All eyes, however, were not on their Horocronian ally. Keith could feel every person in the room watching him as he entered. He had hastily pulled the pins out of his hair, letting his bangs fall back as usual, but his hair was still braided. He tried not to feel more embarrassed than usual, and failed.
“About time,” Allura said, and thank god for her. She had the decency to not mention the thing that everyone else was dying to mention. “Boys, sit down so we can commence.”
“I see some of your have decided to finally join civilized society,” Della said as they took their seats. Everyone looked questioningly to her. There was a pause, and then Pidge offered a loud and forced laugh. The rest of the crew dissolved into giggles, except Allura, who was rolling her eyes.
Keith forced himself not to look at Lance. Instead he covered his face in his hands and waited for the red, hot feeling in his face to subside.
“Della,” Allura said loudly so that the others took the hint to quiet down. “We hope that the plan has not been altered since yesterday’s incident. Has shipping begun to the rebellion?”
“That is correct,” Della answered in her short way. “In fact the interception by the Galra provided a better cover than we expected. This way the paladins escaped on their own.” She did not even deign to look in Keith or Lance’s direction. “I come on behalf of the rebellion to thank you for your part in this plan.” It seemed like a weak, hollow thanks, but Allura looked happy with it.
“If ever the Horocronians need our assistance again, we will be ready,” she said with confidence.
“That brings me comfort,” Della said, though she looked no more comfortable than usual. She stood from the table, prompting them all to leap to their feet. “I bring you a gift, as humble as it is.” She gestured to a few black crates marked as Galra shipments. “We intercepted these some time back. At first we did not know what we had found, but upon meeting your Earthlings, we discovered their origin.”
The team was starting to crowd around the boxes, and Keith was no less curious. Coran handed a crowbar to Shiro, who worked off the top of the nearest crate. It hissed open, releasing the sealed air.
“Are you serious?” Lance exclaimed.
“Holy shit,” Hunk agreed. They both looked jubilant.
“These are…” started Pidge. She reached in and pulled out something golden packaged in a plastic wrapper.
“TWINKIES.” Hunk was crying real tears as he took a handful of the packages and held them close like they were his newborn children. Lance’s expression was not much different. He was already tearing a package open and taking a bite.
“This is the best day of my life,” he said around a mouthful. Keith allowed himself a indulgent moment of watching his expression.
“I am going to reverse engineer the shit out of these,” Hunk went on.
“We have to divvy them out,” Lance was saying, already counting the remaining Twinkies, of which there were likely hundreds. “Obviously if you don’t want them, speak up now, because these are my ultimate comfort food.”
“I am expecting my fair share, if only for bargaining,” Pidge said.
“Please, take mine,” Shiro was saying with a mild look of disgust on his face.
“What are they?” asked Coran while stroking his beard. “They look like they came out of the back end of a Pillgnonian.”
“They taste like it, too. Believe me.”
They continued to bicker over the shipment while Allura made her farewells to Della and set a course to leave the system. It would be a relief find a place where they didn’t need to hide and dodge Galra patrols, and plan their next move in relative peace. Keith was looking forward to a full day of no missions or trips to the medbay.
He was looking forward to a day of being with Lance.
He found him in the kitchen later that day, sitting on a countertop and looking at a Twinkie like a jeweller considering a diamond. When he heard Keith’s approach, he looked up as though startled. Then his face melted into a self conscious sort of smile. The bite he took of the food was likely out of nervousness.
“I’ve never had one before,” Keith admitted as he approached the other paladin. “Dad never bought any prepackaged stuff when I was a kid.”
Lance picked up the package and squinted at the fine print ingredients. “I don’t blame him. I mean, these aren’t exactly good.”
“You and Hunk were practically drooling over them.”
“Yes, but that’s because they taste like nostalgia. They taste like Earth.”
Keith considered this as he watched Lance’s face fall into a serious expression again. “You know, Lance,” he started, trying not to feel embarrassed. “If you ever feel homesick you can come talk to me. I mean, if that helps.”
Lance was grinning through his mouthful of Twinkie. “I’d like that.” He chewed for a moment, looking down at the package again. “Do you think we could… you know. Like, kiss and stuff?” He was flushing again, and Keith was finding it hard to concentrate. He wanted to kiss his stupid, Twinkie-filled face right now.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he answered lamely, feeling the heat in his own cheeks. “I’m going to train.” He turned away, because he was having trouble remaining serious. “If you want to find me later. Maybe bring my share of the Twinkies? Like, to my room.” Wow, real smooth.
He didn’t need to turn back to know Lance was grinning.
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Lance resisted the urge to go watch Keith training. He pretended like he had some Very Important Work to do and spent an unnecessary amount of time sorting out all the Earth goods they had received from Della. It turned out to not just be Twinkies, though they were the bulk, but also a random collection of prepackaged goodies that looked like a convenience store shipment. There were also chips, jerky, gum, and chocolate bars. There was even a little package that looked like a medicine cabinet: extra strength acetaminophen tablets, bandaids, travel-sized toothbrushes, little pairs of nail clippers and pink bottles of stomach medicine. Lance marvelled at this piece of Earth culture and felt a happy buzz in his head.
Or maybe that happiness was for another reason.
He ended up loitering in his own room for almost an hour, listening to the sounds in the hallway that would mean that Keith was heading back to his room. He had a little bag of Twinkies counted out, as well as a selection of other treats that he thought Keith might like. It was a poor attempt at a bouquet, but it would have to do.
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heart those tell-tale steps, and he forced himself to count to 30 before bursting out of his room. He caught Keith like a deer in the headlights, which was OK, because it was one of the expressions he treasured the most. He was starting to treasure all of his expressions the most.
“How was training?” he asked like a mother at the dinner table.
“Good,” answered Keith, opening the door to his room. “You should come with me next time. You could use the training.”
Lance opened his mouth in exaggerated offense. “Hey! I am in top physical form, thank you very much.”
“Not if you keep eating those.” Keith was referring to the bag of Twinkies without even looking at them. Lance tossed the bag on the desk.
“They’re for you, you grouch. I gotta fatten you up so that you stop beating me in simulations.” And for a little more to hold onto.
Keith shrugged out of his jacket and smoothed down his hair. He had showered recently, and Lance could smell the Altean shampoo drifting off of him. He stepped closer tentatively, wanting to take in Keith’s aura. His skin was tingling at the tips of his fingers and the back of his neck. The closer he got the the back of the red paladin, the thicker the air seemed to become.
“Keith,” he started, and his voice sounded heavy. He wanted to break the tension with a joke or a jab, but his desire to jump directly onto Keith was far more strong. He felt like a hunter stalking his prey-- as if his quarry would flee if he moved too quickly.
Keith turned to face him, and he was red already. He looked only a little annoyed, which served to make his mouth turn in a small pout and his brows knit together in the middle. It was an expression that made Lance want to smooth him out with his hand. He reached out and touched a one cheek with his thumb-- a tentative touch, but one that sent sparks up his hand and arm. His breath came out raggedly and he stepped forward again to close the gap.
There was something to be said for a mutual kiss. It meant that both parties involved were actively working to make the experience enjoyable. There was no resistance or hesitation, and the eagerness of both paladins accelerated the moment tenfold. They were stumbling backwards, hands on hips or faces or chests, fighting to remain dominant but also making allowances for the other. Lance let out an embarrassing, pleasurable sound when their mouths opened and tongues met. Keith was no better, and Lance’s head was spinning from the shy little moans that were humming in the back of his throat.
They only stopped when Keith actually tripped backwards onto the bed, Lance falling forward and catching himself with hands on either side of the other paladin. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not sure if he was actually sorry or if it had just been too long since he had last spoken (or taken a breath). Looking into Keith’s eyes, he hesitated, because this was all happening too fast. “Is this weird?”
Keith frowned slightly, narrowing his gaze. “Two guys making out in a castle space ship billions of miles from every other human on Earth; of course it’s weird.” He averted his eyes then, looking self conscious. “But I like you, Lance. And I don’t want to overthink this.”
Lance felt a rush of emotion that made him want to start hugging again. Instead he dropped on the bed beside Keith and ran a hand through that damn hair. “I like you too, buddy.”
“Then shut up and get me a damn Twinkie.” Lance obliged, because he had no problem with Keith owing him one.