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~
Lance was eleven when he’d first seen through his soulmates eyes. It was terrifying- they were in a fight, people were yelling and there were fists smacking into their jaws and stinging their cheeks over and over- but they fought back, bruising knuckles with lightning fast strikes and a surety Lance could only dream of.
He’d cried that night.
The day after he started learning martial arts (though he’d always favor his bow).
~
Lance was fifteen when he got his next glance. It wasn’t much- just an endless loop of rain outside a car window. Everything held a tint of resigned sorrow. The view moved, and Lance saw a scrawny bag and an angry woman, with lips pursed and eyes on the road.
~
Lance was eighteen when he saw his soulmate in the mirror.
It was a guy, which didn’t surprise Lance as much as it would’ve a few years ago- he’d started having his suspicions. But what did surprise him was the undeniable beauty of the stranger. Long dark hair framed violet eyes and a frowning face, inspecting what looked to be a cut above his eye. A rush of affection surged through Lance as he mentally huffed at his soulmate who always seemed to be in trouble. He probably should’ve been scared, or even terrified but his soulmate just… felt right.
When he came back to his own eyes, he was met with the stare of his family and his hand collapsed inside his food. But even that didn’t dampen the soft smile he had when he met their stares with his own, feeling warmer than ever.
~
Lance knew the boy’s face, but didn’t see him until three years later.
Looking back, how they met was hilarious given the soulviews each had been privy to. But at the time, it was just terrifying. A culmination of adrenaline and anxiety, a tipping point and bruising faces.
Lance had tightened his hold on the strap of his backpack, a strange feeling of unease pooling in his stomach. It was dusk, and this was one of the shadier parts of campus.
A sudden loud yell jolted into Lance and the boy darted forward, peering into an alley where five guys were standing around a figure with a red hoodie pulled up overtop his hair, hiding his face. In any other circumstance, Lance may have just walked away. But then he heard the words spilling out of shadowed mouths.
“Listen up, fag, we don’t want no trouble. Just get down onto your knees and apologize and you’ll be free to go.”
In that second two things became clear to Lance. One, these guys were bigoted assholes ganging up on the single guy in the middle. And two… the kid in the red hoodie was in no way just gonna ‘apologize’ and go.
Lance stepped into the alley, shoulders tense and teeth gritted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
One of the men looked back and sneered. “Oh good. Join us in beatin up this fag wouldya?”
Clenching his jaw, Lance’s eyes drifted to stare beneath the red hoodie. Violet eyes met his, steady, and Lance felt a brief moment of shock before they were both moving forward, blue backpack abandoned on the ground.
His leg snapped out, catching one guy unaware and solidly dropping him. He hooked a punch towards another, jabbing his other hand into the guy’s nose and grinning at the telltale crumbling of a bone’s crack. He pressed back, feeling the warmth of Red behind him as he defended from sloppy attacks.
Idiots.
When they were all down Lance grabbed Red’s hand and ran, leaning down to swipe his backpack on the way out.
After a few blocks they slowed, panting, and Lance started to laugh. He couldn’t help it, body hiccuping in violent shakes.
“Oh gods that guy’s face - you alright man?”
“...Yeah.”
“Phew! What’d you do to piss em off anyways?”
He can practically hear the smirk in the other guy’s face as he answers “I fucked their brother.”
Lance chokes, laughing even harder. “ Dude , that’s amazing. Oh man. I’ve gotta invite ya over after that. We can clean you up, and my amazing roommate makes a mean taco.”
He feels the guys hesitate. “You could be working with them…”
“What, with those thickheads? Nah, bisexual and proud I’m not gonna fuck with you. Unless that’s what you want of course~”
Lance grins as Red snorts.
“Sure, I’ll take you up on those tacos then.”
It’s only a five minute walk to Lance’s dorm, and when he gets back he dramatically kicks open the door.
“Hunk! I’m home!”
A face pops up from beneath the table and sighs with relief.
“I thought you’d died, you’re like half an hour late buddy.”
“Nah, nothins gonna get past my iron taekwondo defences.”
“Oh so is that why you know how to fight” Sounds at the same time Hunk incredulously asks “Wait, is that blood ?” and Lance winces.
“Yup, that’s how I knew how to fight and umm, it kinda sorta might be?”
Hunk screeches, scrambling out from beneath the table and rushing forward. His eyes dart towards the door and widen. “Oh, Keith! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Lance blinks, brows furrowing. “You know ‘im?”
“Yeah, he’s Shiro’s brother. You should know this, Lance”
“Ohh! That Keith. Small world, huh?”
“Wait, if you don’t know him through Shiro then…”
Keith cuts in, sounding shocked. “Wait… Lance? You’re Lance?”
“Wuzzat s’posed to mean?” Lance asks, pouting.
“Nothing I just- you’re hotter than how I imagined you.”
Crickets.
“ Oh , shit I mean-”
He’s interrupted by shaking laughter. “Damn right I am. Hunk, can you make us tacos while we clean up?”
“Sure man, but use the old towels! Shay just bought the yellow ones.”
“Sure, sure.”
“They’re NEW”
They both walk towards the bathroom and Keith reaches up to pull his hood down.
To which Lance freezes.
“Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Holy shit .”
Keith just looks confused but Lance is bounding forward, hands cupping reddening cheeks and blue eyes piercing Keith’s face.
“It’s you.”
Keith just stares, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Um-”
“Right, blood first, other stuff later. C’mon.”
They step into the bathroom and now Keith is the one stopping, hands stretching towards the pictures tucked on the side of the mirror.
“I know these people…”
“Keith, you literally have blood on your face. Sit.”
“But-”
“ Keith, dios m í o sit the fuck down.”
And Lance can see the moment the connection clicks into place, the slight slackening of lips and trembling hands.
“No way…”
“Lance McClain, at your service.”
“But… you can’t be.”
Shit , Keith is crying. Silent tears, tracing patterns on his cheeks. Lance flinches at the words, like cold water is rushing through him, drowning him, pelting im in ice, but he simply grabs the cotton and gauze as Keith grips the counter.
“There’s no way I’m good enough for you.”
And that’s not what Lance expected. He jerks up, staring at Keith sho’s just biting his lip like it’s fucking candy. The pain shifts to bewilderment and then focused anger at whatever world made his soulmate believe this.
“You’re so caring , Lance, so perfect and whole. Shiro talks about all of you, and the stories he has- I can’t…
I deserve a fucking murderer who’s just as broken as me.”
The gauze slips from his hands as he lunges forward, wrapping Keith into a hug and breathing in his scent (campfires).
“No. You deserve the world , Keith. You aren’t broken, you can heal. And scars may still be there but they fade , and I’m not perfect. I’m insecure and loud, I’m annoying and push too far, and half the time all I want to do is go home. You think Shiro doesn’t talk about you as well? Because he does, Keith, and you- you’re amazing . Absolutely amazing, and gorgeous, so I’m the one who doesn’t-” Lance cuts himself off, lips pressing together to keep from wobbling. “We deserve each other, okay? I can’t have you running into battles without someone watching your back, can I?”
Keith only answers by squeezing into the hug tighter, then letting go. Violet eyes are soft as he speaks. “I’m Keith Kogane. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Lance grins. “As you know, I’m Lance McClain. I almost can’t believe we met in a dark alley by fighting, but I can’t say it doesn’t fit us.”
Brushing a finger against a cut on Keith’s cheek, he picks up the fallen gauze.
“Let’s eat some tacos, yah?”
~
Lance was twenty-one when he finally met his soulmate.
~
Lance was twenty-five when he got married.
~
Lance was thirty-one when he adopted his son.
~
Lance was thirty-three when he wolf whistled at his best friend’s wedding.
~
Lance was thirty-five when he adopted his daughter.
~
Lance was thirty-eight when he flew to the moon and came back to his husband’s waiting arms.
~
Lance’s love was eternal.