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To say Keith was caught off by surprise would be an understatement; Though, there’d be hell if he were ever to admit that. Keith’s blade slipped through his fingers at the sudden yell from their ever so vibrant Blue Paladin: “Hey, Keith!” He gritted his teeth as the blade sliced through his finger as it morphed back into its Bayard form. With a grunt, Keith turned around, his eye twitching in slight irritation. It wasn’t that he hated the Paladin - okay, he actually liked the guy - it’s just that whenever he was around, they’d always spark an argument. And it seemed exactly where this conversation was going.
“What? Look, I’m busy,” Keith bluntly stated, gesturing to his fallen Bayard, “I’m supposed to be training.”
Lance shrugged, a small smirk on his face. “That’s all you do! Can’t you just chill for a second?”
“If we’re ever going to beat Zarkon–”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. We’ll need to be the best, never back down, blah blah,” Lance interrupted, speaking with his hands as he waved offhandedly at nothing. Keith felt his earlier irritation course through him again, as if his day was stellar already. Sure, he wasn’t exactly ‘supposed’ to be doing anything, but after the beat downs from the Blade of Marmora, he couldn’t shake off the rising anger that passed by him every now and then. It seemed like anyone could beat him at this point; If he couldn’t take down a few of their allies, how could he fend against Zarkon? He had Red, thank whoever cared enough, but even she had her limitations. Even if they were less than Blue, Keith thought with pride, they were there. …To be fair, he ignored those more than often. It hadn’t mattered, though – Because they’d still win. Which is exactly back to his point:
“Maybe you should train yourself, sharpshooter.” Keith narrowed his eyes, before reaching down and swiping his Bayard off from the ground. He looked at Lance from across the training room, more or less at the door. Lance shook his head, and Keith barely caught the sigh coming from him. Keith turned away from him, relaxing his eyes before taking a step towards the middle. “Start training sequence. Level three.”
The robot gave its affirmative reply and Keith slipped into his defensive stance. He felt the hiss of his Bayard transforming as soon as the training bot fazed into existence. Keith hardly caught a breath before the bot launched forward. Keith aimed for a jab at the bot’s right. The bot moved, twisting away from the sword. It slammed their blunt weapon into Keith’s side. Keith gritted his teeth, stumbling before bringing out his sword to counter. He swung out at the bot, feigning left before stabbing right. A clean slice. Keith narrowed his eyes before widening them as he narrowly dodged a blunt to the head. He slid across the ground, keeping up his position. Keith’s grip tightened on his sword before he launched forward. The bot was fast– But Keith was the Red Paladin. No way was he losing to a level three bot. He attempted to stab the bot, but the moment it grabbed his blade, Keith cursed under his breath. It ripped his Bayard from his hands - oh, the deja vu - and twirled the staff before flipping forward.
Keith forced himself back as the bot hit the space. He moved back, narrowly dodging the blows. Keith grunted as the bot hit his chest, spinning backward before harshly hitting the ground. His hip practically vibrated at the force, and he swore he heard something crack. Keith stood up, his breath picking up as he tightened his fists. The bot simply stood there, bringing out the staff and jumping forward. Keith’s eyes widened, and he swore time slowed down as he launched to the right, reaching out and tucking in as he rolled, swiping the Bayard from the ground. The sword formed and Keith yelled, stabbing the bot straight through the side. He could hear his breathing slow as the bot’s light turned off. He stood up, yanking the sword from the side.
“Finally.”
Keith blinked at the sudden noise, whipping around to see Lance leaning against the door frame – Still there even after all of that. Keith scoffed, rolling his shoulders as he placed his Bayard to his hip. He winced before stealing a look at Lance. “Why are you still here?”
Lance… had the nerve to look offended, placing his hands on his hips. “Hey! Can’t a guy enjoy a free show?”
Keith furrowed his eyebrows, pausing when he grabbed the small towel from his pack. “What? Do you like what you see?” He rolled his eyes, before wiping the towel at his forehead. Lance was interesting, to say the least. Keith always felt conflicted whenever he talked to or about McClain. Keith faintly remembered the guy as ‘That One Cargo Pilot.’ He wasn’t even sure he’d ever called Lance his rival. Apparently, since the year he’d been booted from the Garrison Lance had been upgraded. He wasn’t too sure how he liked that.
And Keith wasn’t too sure how to react to the red growing on Lance’s face as Keith neared him with his response. “No!”
Keith shrugged, scoffing as he did. “Thought so. Do you mind?” Keith gestured to the door.
“Hey! Aren’t you gonna stay? Y’know, watch me train?” Lance suggested, still standing in front of the only exit.
Keith huffed, raising an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”
“…Bonding?”
Keith blinked at the note of desperation, giving a short glance at Lance with confusion. The last time they tried ‘bonding,’ Lance hadn’t even recalled what happened. He practically cradled Lance in his arms. If that wasn’t enough, Keith felt a bit cheated by the whole scenario. The one time Lance hadn’t been trying to spark another contest and he wouldn’t even remember it. Typical. “Like that worked out last time. Can you move?”
Lance huffed, wildly raising his arms in… exasperation. “See? This is exactly why I don’t even try with you! You- You’re always like this!” Lance continued to stand there like he was guarding some sort of treasure. Keith felt irritation build up in his head.
“Nobody,” Keith took a step closer to Lance, “Is asking you to do whatever you’re doing!”
“Can’t you just pay attention to me for once?!” Lance jammed a finger into Keith’s chest, the action completely taking Keith off guard. Keith froze, eyebrows furrowed. ‘…Pay attention to me for once.’ Keith– frankly, had no idea what he was talking about.
“What?” Keith cleverly asked. Lance had absolutely no reason to be just-just saying that out in the blue to him, of all people. He had seen the hero-worship he held for Shiro, which was irritatingly common, but almost all of them had it. Maybe he could say it to Shiro but him? If anything, most of his attention was on Lance. Whether he was cracking another pathetic pun or challenging him to a riveting contest, Keith always joined in. Even though sometimes he had no idea why.
Lance stilled as much as he, eyes widening as he stared at Keith before violently looking away. “Nothing, Mullet. You can leave now.” Lance took a step to the side, muttering something under his breath that Keith couldn’t get… But from the likes of it, sounded very aggressive. Keith’s shoulders tensed, and he moved away from Lance, a small frown on his face.
“Fine.” Keith exited the room, rubbing his left arm as he did so. The hiss of the doors made him slow, his mind whirring. That whole episode – He didn’t even know what the hell just happened. One moment, he was training with an unwanted audience, and a second later Lance was arguing with him about attention. His mind blanked that very second and even after all of that, remnants of the whole thing just confused him. Sure, after all the fighting with the Blade of Marmora and the Galra, he and Lance rarely had their daily contests. Everything was just rushing at him. Keith stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hallway, whipping his head back to the training room. If he was being honest… he looked forward to those contests. It was something fun in the middle of a world that went against them. He turned, taking a tentative step towards the training room before full out sprinting. Maybe he should…
After all, Shiro always said forgive and forget. He could at least try—
“What does Mullet know?” Lance was in there atleast—
“We got that Coca-Cola bottle shape, shape, shape…” Keith froze at that, doubling back at the sudden other voice. It sounded like someone singing, but it couldn’t be Lance. Too high-pitched, and no way was it Pidge. Keith pressed his ear against the door. The sounds of someone stepping was evident - was that Lance?
“I mean, he’s always going off doing the cool stuff and leaves me in the dust–”
“We got that sugar, do you wanna taste, taste, taste?”
“–And it kills me sometimes, argh!” Keith heard Lance kick something, and he could guess it probably was the metal weights at the shriek from Lance. “Ow! Ow, ow! Stupid metal-weight-things!”
“We take it all around the globe. Baby, everywhere we go.” At this point, Keith was sure that the second voice was music because the instrumentals kicked in. But how did Lance get the song? And did he even want it on? “Make it hot when I’m around. Shake, shake shake.” Keith tried to lean even closer to the door, his ear basically plastered against the door. What was happening?
“I don’t get why I even try! That Keith– I swear!” Lance yelled out, and Keith swore the stepping was becoming more rapid. “Nothing ever works for him.”
What was he even talking about? Why did Lance of all people want something to work for him? Was he talking about earlier? Keith bit his lip to stop the groan of frustration that bubbled up his throat. Lance and he were rivals, apparently; Rivals are supposed to make things go wrong for the other. That’s what Keith thought at least. He wasn’t too sure what happened in Lance’s mind. And why was the song still on, playing more lyrics?
“Like oh, you know you want it. Ay, andale.” The song kept going, and the footsteps increased. Keith huffed as he stepped away for a second. It definitely didn’t sound like training. He hadn’t heard Lance fall down for three minutes – he always fell in three minutes to the training bot. He leaned back in.
The girl kept singing the song, and Keith was this close to just barging in on pure confusion.“Oh, you know we got it. Ah, smile we say–”
“Soy Latin-o, baby. Soy Latin-o, baby! Okay, let’s party, say ole!” And suddenly, Keith stepped back again abruptly, Lance was singing along to the song, sound of steps speeding up. He blinked owlishly. Everything was falling into place ever so slowly. Lance was dancing and singing along to the song. The thought burst into place as Lance continued the verse, “Soy Latino y la noche* we own it, baby. OK, let's party, say ole, ole!”
Keith gently placed his hand on the door lock, holding it down so the doors opened slowly. He peeked out from the corner, staring down at the dancing figure in the back. Keith was sure Lance wouldn’t be able to see him from this angle, but he got a clear view. The song continued on, relaying the first verse along with Lance’s singing. Yet Keith couldn’t help the gaze that remained on Lance, the dance he was performing along with the song. Lance stepped to the back before bringing his other foot forward and switching it out, moving in rhythm almost like a salsa before he spun. Keith reluctantly found this whole thing fascinating as Lance raised his right hand as he continued his dance, moving his feet left, right, forward, backward, while rolling his hips. A rush of heat hit his face as Lance turned in his direction. Even though Keith was sure he couldn’t see him, he whipped his head closer to the wall, feeling the burning emotion on his face. His heart sped up as Keith peeked out from the wall again, entranced with both the singing and dancing.
Suddenly, the voice changed to a deeper one. “Entra tranquila, pura Coca Cola, a dar tequila. Hasta Romania, tu sabe que esto es magia.”
Lance’s dancing sped up, though it was clear he was trying to focus on changing his own voice. Keith tried to lean closer. He could hear the whole thing from over here, but he found himself longing for more. Whatever that meant, Keith thought idly. He shifted, tilting his head as Lance began to quickly follow the song.
“Hoy gusto a Inna, el negocio Web miralias. Entra tranquila, que tu no hace fila,” Lance sang out, spinning with the change of tone. A smile grew on his face, growing only wider as the song continued on. Keith saw Lance’s shoulder lose their tension; A laugh bubbling out of his lips in the middle of the verse. Keith only felt himself continue staring at Lance’s dancing curiously. He couldn’t… couldn’t help but just continue staring. In some part of his mind, Keith knew that he should just get up and leave. He did not want to be here when Lance found him out. Yet, the whole thing was just fascinating. And it was a rare sight to see Lance doing anything but argue or crack a joke.
Lance took another few steps, a quirked smile evident on his face. “Sabe a cola cola, sabe a vitamina. J to the B, I doubt with a name.”
Keith began tapping his finger against the wall; The song was definitely catchy, and it didn’t help that Lance was singing it too. And then in that second Keith felt his hand hit a roadblock. Lance was singing in Spanish. Lance knew Spanish. Yeah, Lance did have an accent occasionally at the Garrison (from the few times they interacted), but Keith always brushed it aside as some sort of funny thing he did. Even if it wasn’t even funny – Keith thought it was kind of cool sometimes. It hadn’t ever happened during their time as Voltron Paladins though…
“You follow my game, you know what way. La noche es de nosotros y hoy venimos a celebrar. La fiesta apenas comienza y la gente y grita ole! No le eche la culpa a Inna que ella solo vino a bailar. J Balvin, Inna, la combinación mundial!” Lance’s voice rang out with Lance’s voice being a bit higher than the second singer — J Balvin, maybe? Keith wouldn’t exactly know. … How did Lance get this song anyway?!
“Soy Latina baby! Soy Latina baby!! Okay, let's party, say ole!” Lance spun, a laugh resonating from him, and Keith faintly noticed the thumping in his heart. Keith gently raised his hand to his chest, feeling a rush of emotion hit him. Maybe Keith wasn’t detective, but he wasn’t stupid. Keith abruptly dropped his hand, tightening his fist in irritation as he slowly stood up, leaning against the wall and shuffling towards the wall. He was almost there—
“Soy Latina y la noche we own it, baby! OK, let's party, say ole, ole!” Lance full out laughed, doubling over and clutching his chest. The song ended, but the chuckles bounced off the walls. A warm glow of red crossed Keith’s face as he dared to look back. Never look back.
Lance was panting, sweat obviously trickling down his forehead. He was holding onto his knees, and from this angle, Keith could still see him silently laughing to himself. Lance swiped at his forehead, standing up and Keith quickly pressed himself against the wall, tense. His breathing suddenly leaped, and for one split second, he thought: What will Lance think? …And he himself wasn’t too sure what to think about that. Keith’s mind wrestled with itself as he peeked around the wall cautiously — only to freeze up as Lance turned in his direction. Another spur of heat rose onto his face as Keith stared, entranced; Could Lance even see him? Keith saw Lance take a step in his direction, arm raised out as if to grab something – Dark blue eyes staring directly at him. What will Lance think? Everything, just like in a goddamn movie slowed down, rushing at him.
Everything hurt– But why did his heart hurt the most?
Keith snapped back to reality, forcing himself backward and hitting the wall roughly. He scrambled for the door, slamming his hand into the scanner and bolting out. Keith closed his eyes as he ran down the hallways, heading somewhere.
Just anywhere away from that stupid Latino boy.