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Lance stumbled out of the healing pod, groaning as his skin absorbed the heat from the air. Shiro steadied him, gently helping him sit in front of the pod. Hunk crashed into him, crying a bit into Lance’s shoulder. Pidge punched his shoulder softly, her eyes betraying how worried she’d been. Coran and Allura sent him relieved smiles over the heads of the other paladins.
They were right to be worried. The laser had barely missed one of Lance’s major organs. If it had hit him a millimeter to the right, the healing pod wouldn’t have been able to bring him back. But Lance didn’t regret taking the hit. He would never regret it because he had saved Keith’s life.
And Keith now stared at him, his eyes hard and his arms crossed in front of him. “What were you thinking out there, Lance?” he asked, his voice cutting through the mirth.
Lance met his eyes. “I thought I was saving your life,” he answered, an edge coming to his weary voice.
“You almost died!” Keith exclaimed.
“Yeah, and if I hadn’t pushed you out of the way you would have died!” Lance shot back. He crossed his arms and looked away stubbornly.
Shiro sighed. “Of all the things to fight over . . . . Can’t you be happy Lance is alive and let it go, Keith?” he asked.
“I won’t be satisfied until he gets some sense of self-preservation into his head!” Keith exclaimed. “First he risked his life to save Coran from the Galra bomb. Then he let himself be lured into an airlock because he thought Coran was stuck inside. And now he almost died saving my life,” Keith said.
Lance huffed. “Relax, dude. It’s not like a quick pop in the healing pod can’t heal me,” he said.
Keith stared at Lance for a moment, a storm of raw emotions churning behind his eyes. In a low voice, he asked, “What if the healing pod can’t fix it next time, Lance? Then what?”
Thirty pounds of lead landed in Lance’s stomach. He looked down, the reality of Keith’s words settling in his gut. Lance . . . would die one day. If he didn’t die in this war with the Galra, then he would die of natural causes. It was an inevitable thought that Lance had rarely spared a thought for back on Earth. But now--here in space--the idea of his own mortality swallowed him whole.
He felt numb as Shiro lead him to his room, ordering him to get some rest. Lance replied with a weak jest (something along the lines of “okay, dad” ), and let himself fall into bed.
He stared up at the ceiling of his room, the weight of reality pressing down on him until it was getting hard to breathe.
He would die someday.
That would be it for him. There’s no coming back from that. He would be gone and the world--the universe--would keep moving at a speed increasing 67 km every second.
Lance was being swallowed up by the thought of his own insignificance.
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and groaned. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on counting his breathing. He let himself be swept up in the steady rhythm of his heart and soon the sweet embrace of sleep came around him.
He dreamed of Varadero Beach and watching the sunset with his siblings.
Lance tried to get back into his normal routine--he tried to return to the upbeat attitude that filled some of the deafening silence of space, but he had shifted away from that part of himself.
He began to worry that there would be no going back to that version of himself. Maybe, he thought sometimes, that happy-go-lucky boy had died during the Galra attack and the Lance he was now was just a shadow of himself.
Because Lance found it harder to flirt carelessly with anything that moved. He was drowning in thoughts that maybe he wouldn’t make it home. There were late nights where he’d lay awake and think about the possibility that he might die up there in space. Silent tears would slip down his cheeks as he thought about what Shiro and Allura might say to his mother when they defeated Zarkon without him. His heart hurt because in every case he saw his mother being overtaken by grief again and falling into a despair more terrible than he could bare to thrust upon her.
So Lance began to take his training even more seriously than before. He spent hours upon hours dueling the robots. Sometimes he’d be in the middle of training when Keith would show up. They’d nod to each other curtly, sometimes working on hand-to-hand combat together, sometimes keeping to their own separate regimes.
The carefree smiles that Lance once gave out like they cost him nothing were far and inbetween--like he was going bankrupt and was saving his smiles because now they actually cost him something.
Lance wasn’t surprised when Hunk asked him about it during dinner.
“What do you mean?” Lance asked, plastering a half-hearted smile to his face.
Hunk narrowed his eyes. “That,” he said, “what you’re doing right now. You aren’t smiling like you used to.” Lance sighed, pushing his food goo around to avoid the worried gazes that were aimed his way. “What’s going on, man?”
“Nothing serious.” Lies . Filthy, terrible lies and Lance knew it. But how did he tell Hunk that every day felt like he was walking through molasses. That every night he spent an hour remembering every detail he could about his family and his life on Earth and felt his heart spasm when he took a moment too long to remember something. How do you even begin to explain that , he thought.
“That’s bull,” Hunk said, ignoring the warning gaze Shiro threw his way. “You used to be the happiest, most annoyingly carefree guy I knew, Lance. You’re but a husk of yourself, now.” Lance bit his tongue, keeping the fighting words that Hunk didn’t deserve at bay. “What happened to the boy who would look up at the stars and see every answer the universe had to offer?”
Lance swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, “That boy got to live his dream. He went to space. He fought and met aliens. He got to see some of the wonders that the universe had to offer. But then he realized that not all the answers the universe had were awe inspiring. So he grew up, and moved on. Because he couldn’t bear to think about what might happen if he let himself get swept away by the greatness of the universe, only to be brought down by the darkness it hid.”
The table was silent as Lance stood, blinking away tears. “Lance,” Keith called softly. Lance shook his head and left.
Hugging his knees to his chest, Lance tried to fight off the emptiness in his chest. He watched the stars as they passed them by on their interstellar journey. Stars that made constellations Lance had no hope of recognizing. He sighed, wishing on all the stars before him that he could go back to being happy--to being the Lance that all his friends loved.
Someone sat down next to him.
“I’m not in the mood to talk right now, Keith,” he said, resting his chin on his arms.
Keith shrugged and leaned back on his hands. Lance glanced at him and envied the awed gaze that Keith gave the stars. There was a fondness in Keith’s face that made Lance’s heart squeeze in a way it hadn’t for a while now. He looked back at the stars and swore for a moment that they gazed back at Keith with the same fondness.
“You’re going to make it home, Lance,” Keith said suddenly.
Lance’s eyes shot over to Keith’s immediately. Keith was still staring out at the stars, but Lance noticed how his fingers tapped on the bench with nervous energy. Lance lay his cheek against his arms and stared at Keith tiredly. “How can you be so sure?” he asked.
Keith glanced at Lance before looking away (Lance swore there was a blush on Keith’s cheeks). “You’re . . . Lance . I know I said those things about you putting yourself in danger before, but you’re destiny is to save the universe and make it home to see your family again and be . . . happy.”
Lance let a ghost of a smile flicker across his lips as he scoffed. “Destiny? You talk as if a regular ol’ Joe like me has a special destiny.”
Keith looked at him with a perplexed look. “You don’t think you do?” Lance shrugged.
“Lance, you’re in space saving the universe! How is that not your destiny?”
“Saving the universe wasn’t my destiny, if I ever had one in the first place,” Lance insisted. “It was a fluke. I’m not some talented pilot or ingenious inventor or a veteran soldier. I’m not meant for this. I’m not amazing like you or Pidge. I’m just . . . me.”
Keith stared at him for a moment before taking Lance’s hand in his own. Lance watched as Keith lay Lance’s hand palm up on his own. “Look at your hands, Lance. See your veins?” Lance nodded. “Iron flows through your blood, and iron is one of the elements that is made in hearts of stars. Your entire body is made of the stardust from billions of stars.” Keith looked up into Lance’s eyes as he squeezed his hand softly. “You’re bringing pieces of the universe together just by existing and being Lance. And I think that’s pretty amazing.
“I think you’re pretty amazing,” Keith added quietly.
Lance stared into Keith’s eyes for a moment longer, listening to his heart bang against its cage of ribs. He felt a blush dust his cheeks as some of the weight that had been on his chest was lifted. Not much, but enough for Lance to thread his fingers with Keith’s and scoot a little close as they watched the stars fly past in their ever expanding universe.
“You know what I miss most about Earth, besides my family?” Lance asked, his head in Keith’s lap as they lay in his bed. “I miss ice cream. And sitting on the porch while it rained.”
“I miss the beach,” Keith said softly.
Lance leaned his head back to look up at Keith. “Oooh, I didn’t pin you for a beach babe, Keith.” The flirting was getting easier these days--though Lance found himself only wanting and only feeling comfortable flirting with Keith.
Keith shrugged. “I like feeling the sun on my skin with the sea at my heels,” he said, setting down his knife that he’d been cleaning.
“You would like going to the beach with my family,” Lance said, settling his head back on Keith’s thighs. “My mom and older sister love just walking on the beach. I guess my younger brother, sister, and I got the preference for swimming from my dad.” Lance picked at the sheets for a moment as his heart wilted with melancholy memories of his family. “You know,” he said, trying to regain the cheerfulness in his voice, “you should come with us to Veradero Beach when we get back home.”
Keith raised his eyebrows. “You would take me to the beach with your family?”
“Of course!” Lance exclaimed. “My family and I would love it. We have this little beach house--it’s a really humble thing--that we spend a few weeks in every summer. It’s really quiet on that stretch of the beach. We light fireworks at night sometimes. And if we’re lucky, the sea turtles might be nesting and we can see the babies make their journey to the sea!”
Lance looked up at Keith and felt his cheeks heat up at the fond smile that lay on Keith’s face. “I’d like that,” he whispered. “I’d like that a lot, Lance.”
“I’d like that a lot, too,” Lance whispered back.
Earth was a hard planet to forget when memories of it were all around Lance. In the next few weeks, he began to find Earth in the little things.
He found it in the little references Pidge would throw into her conversations absentmindedly.
He found it in Hunk’s cooking and hugs.
He found Earth in Shiro’s awkward flirting with Allura.
He even found it in his relationship with Coran and Allura: they reminded him of uncles and cousins from his father’s side of the family who had little understanding of Lance’s Cuban heritage.
Most of all, he found Earth in the smiles that Keith gave him.
Keith’s smiles were Lance’s anchor. They brought a bit of light into the abyss of his sadness. They set his heart aflame during the little moments they shared just talking about anything. The smiles Keith sent his way after a friendly argument brought one to Lance’s own lips.
Lance found the tension in his muscles receding when he came near Keith and fully disappearing when he bumped his shoulder against Keith’s or slipped their hands together.
Keith was the sun at the center of Lance’s solar system, drawing him in with an undeniable force. And Lance was crashing into Keith. He just wasn’t entirely sure if that was a bad thing.
So, like most things with Keith, Lance found it easy to just ask him one night. As they lay on Lance’s bed, he said, “Keith, I think . . . I think I like you.”
The silence that lay between them was stifling. Keith tapped the hand Lance was fiddling with the sheets with to get his attention. “You like me?” Keith asked. Lance nodded, his face feeling redder than Betelgeuse. Keith gave him one of his shining smiles. “I like you too, Lance.”
“Really?” Lance asked. “Because, I know I’m not perfect and I’m really annoying because I’m always questioning my self-worth, but if you’re okay with the me that’s still healing . . .” he trailed off as Keith kept smiling at him.
Keith cupped Lance’s cheek with his hand. “Lance, you are healing, and I’m prepared to help you through that. I just hope you know I love you, healed or not.”
Lance felt his heart skip a beat. “Love me?”
Keith’s cheeks flushed as he nodded. “Is that . . . too much?”
“No!” Lance exclaimed. “I just . . . wasn’t prepared for it.” Keith smiled at him again and this time Lance let a true, sincere smile shine back (he was showing more of those smiles recently). Lance leaned his head forward and rested his forehead against Keith’s. “I kinda love you, too,” he whispered.
Keith intertwined their free hands together and threaded his fingers through Lance’s hair. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. Lance nodded, letting Keith guide their lips together.
And it was sloppy. Their lips slided together awkwardly before they got used to each other. Lance deepened the kiss, and they fall into an easy rhythm that was laced with just a little bit more need than either of them would care to admit was theirs.
They pull apart and Lance buries his nose in the crook of Keith’s neck. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“For what?” Keith asked, combing his fingers through Lance’s hair.
“For loving me,” Lance replied. “For loving me and being my center of gravity.”
Lance felt Keith’s chuckle in his chest. “Thank you,” he replied, “for loving me. For loving me and being my home in the universe.”
Lance felt his eyelids grow heavy as Keith’s warmth seeped into Lance’s chest, and happiness settled in his chest. He felt dreams of a summer with Keith call to him. Before giving into the hold of sleep, he thought to himself:
What if soulmates are made of stardust from the same stars?