Chapter Text
If Keith hadn’t seen Lance cry, this would never have happened.
The scales in their impossibly complex battle of the male egos had been irrevocably tipped by that one, embarrassing moment. The neverending mental sparring match ebbed and flowed in favour of each paladin, sometimes favouring Keith, and other times allowing Lance his small victories. Each day the points were tallied and one of them was able to hold themselves a little higher than the other, and stare down with satisfaction and smugness at he who lost the match. But the next day the battle would be won by the other, and so on.
If Lance managed to beat Keith in a training simulation, that was his battle for the day, and he could laud it over him until the dark-haired Paladin retreated to his room.
The next day Keith would be chosen by Shiro to perform a complex and dangerous task, and the looks that he would give Lance were unbearable.
But there was no going back from this one.
Lance had tried-- lord, he had tried to keep it to himself. Real men were not supposed to cry, right? They suppressed their emotions and punched each other in the face instead. Crying was for children, not manly Paladins who fought for the justice and peace of the universe. What was there to feel sad about, anyway?
A lot, apparently.
Lance was, admittedly, very lonely. So when Allura and Coran announced to everyone that they were going to try to visit Earth-- yes, that Earth-- he was ecstatic. More than ecstatic, he was jubilant, excited, cry-for-joy happy. (Ok, men are allowed to cry for joy.)
He got to work immediately making plans. They had a rare window of time to load up, drop off on the surface of Earth, pay their respects, then get back on the castle to continue their mission. The pretense-- because Lance was sure Allura was just sick of their whining about missing their home planet-- was to restock and resupply.
And boy, would Lance resupply. He was going to go positively berserk in a grocery store, or maybe even a bulk barn or maybe even a liquor store.
Hell, he would have settled for a convenience store in the middle of the desert.
And then there were the visits. He calculated that if he used Blue, he could probably visit all of his extended family within a few days. He’d start at home, obviously, and make a spiralling trip outwards from there, visiting each family home based on a careful algorithm of spatial proximity, bloodlines, and cooking ability. He would bring them all souvenirs, of course-- abuela would be crazy for the edible goo-- and he spent a serious amount of time taking selfies that he would print and leave on each mantle, to remember him by.
All in all, the planning took nearly a day.
It also took nearly a day for the plans to come crumbling down.
The Galra were watching Earth, Coran told them all. They had set up a rudimentary outpost on the dark side of the moon. They knew that the first lion had been found on Earth. They knew that the paladins had family there and if the castle showed up, it would only lead the Galra to those families. Earth would have to wait until the Galra had been defeated, and the galaxy liberated.
“I know you are all disappointed,” said Allura in her best princess voice. “But someday you will return to Earth as heroes.”
Lance didn’t stay to see how disappointed everyone else was. It’s hard to be sympathetic when your own feelings are rising up like a tsunami. He bit his tongue before he could say something scathing, and fled the bridge instead.
To say he was disappointed would be an understatement. Even ‘devastated’ didn’t seem to scratch the surface. He was filled to the brim with a mixture of anger, sadness, longing and loneliness.
And that was how Keith found him.
Their rooms shared a hallway, after all. If only Lance had managed those last staggering steps to the privacy of his room before that smug jerk had to show up.
“Lance?”
The blue paladin started at his name, but didn’t turn around. He tried to gather himself, pushing down the feelings and swallowing the big lump that was rising in his throat.
“Yeah, what?” he snapped, because anger seemed like the most dignified of the emotions to leave on his tongue. He turned to face Keith, hating the look of concern on his dumb face. He almost wanted the red paladin to start laughing at him. Somehow, that would have been easier.
“I know how much you wanted to go to Earth…”
Lance wanted to punch him. Who needed his stupid sympathy? How could he understand what it was like to be used to calling your family every day for your whole teenaged life? And before that, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t have a meal with some collaboration of his extended family. He was so used to those ties that the space between them-- the vast, emptiness between the castle and Earth-- were making him wonder if they were even still there.
“I don’t care,” Lance lied. He tried his confident voice, but it was cracking under the pressure of holding it all in. “Like the Princess said: next time we go back, we’ll be heroes…” His voice definitely cracked at that last word and like the weak rock in a damn, the word broke him and the emotions came tumbling out.
He was crying, and Keith just stood there watching him and probably feeling so very proud of himself for not looking so pathetic in comparison. Lance tried to wipe away the tears but they just kept falling.
“I’m sorry,” Keith said soothingly, as if he was talking to a child. Lance couldn’t stand it anymore. He crossed the gap to his bedroom door and pressed the button furiously. The thing about these space doors is that they are impossible to slam, but if they could-- hoo boy. Instead Lance watched the door slide serenely closed, blocking off the view of Keith’s worried face.
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One thing Lance was sure of: he had to even the score.
The worst part was that Keith didn’t mention anything the next day. He took the high road and didn’t even try to tease Lance about his emotional breakdown. He didn’t need to; Lance found himself shrinking in embarrassment at the memory and avoiding Keith’s gaze at all costs. It was unbearable and Lance promised himself that he would get even.
But how?
Usually the easiest way to jab at Keith was to make him angry. The guy had a short fuse and it took very little to set him off. But anger wasn’t enough-- anger was nothing to crying. No, Lance would find another way.
“A mission?” asked Shiro at the dinner table after a particularly tiring training simulation. They were all eating ravenously, despite the off putting colour of the particular combination of space jellies that Coran had put together.
“Yes,” Allura went on, eating as daintily as ever. “Although, it’s a diplomatic one. There should be no need for fighting, if everything goes smoothly.”
“Which means there will be fighting,” supplied Hunk with a sigh through his meal.
“Not if you all do as I say and act like adults.” There was something in the way she was holding up her chin that made Lance think she was acting even more regal on purpose.
“Well, that leaves Lance out, then,” said Keith and Lance shot him a look. Normally, this sort of banter was expected and he would be ready with a comeback, but his ego hadn’t recovered yet and all he managed was a glare.
Allura put her fork down and poked at the air. A hologram of a planet illuminated at her touch, rotating gently. Three moons orbited at different planes. “Horocron,” she supplied. She pressed at the planet in a seemingly random location, and the hologram zoomed in to an advanced looking city. Little hologram ships whizzed over the tops of the narrow skyscrapers. “According to the intel from our friend on Nuatuma 3, this is where we will find the rebels.”
“A planet like that must be crawling with Galra,” Shiro said seriously.
“The Horocronians have an alliance with the Galra, it is true. They manufacture ship parts for the empire and enjoy some degree of freedom for their compliance. The rebels here are spies, using this tentative alliance as a place to gain information.”
“So we’ll need to make contact with them,” Coran chimed in happily. “On the surface.”
“Why does that make me nervous?” Pidge muttered, eyeing Coran’s obvious glee.
“No need, number 5! This will be an easy mission, albit one that takes finesse. The Horocronians are a very proper society, even amongst their rebels. We will be making our contact at a party. To be more specific, a gala!”
There was a collective groan around the table, and even Shiro looked uncomfortable. But, always the man with his mind on the mission, he sighed and nodded. “Alright, sounds easy enough. We’ll go to this party and shake hands-- or whatever. Meet the contact, and then leave. Right team?”
“Well, it’s not that simple,” Allura admitted.
“Here it comes,” said Lance, who decided he had been entirely too quiet this whole time. This talk of a mission and a fancy party had made him forget, for now, his own problems.
Coran was actually giggling so they all looked expectantly at him. Allura heaved a breath and dropped her chin on her hand. “Go ahead, Coran.”
“Well,” he said, coughing and trying to regain his composure. “The proper way for you to attend a party-- that is to say, the expectation is--” He cleared his throat to cover his loss for words.
“It’s a same-sex culture,” Allura supplied, looking a little annoyed. “300 years ago their society nearly collapsed due to overpopulation. It took an overhaul of their values and culture to control the numbers, and now being with someone of the opposite gender is unheard of. It is seen as crass and barbaric to be with someone you could reproduce with, and in a society where manners are important, this is taken very seriously.”
The paladins all seemed to be at a loss for words. No one was thinking about Earth anymore.
“B-but how do they reproduce?” Pidge finally asked, somehow being the most mature one in the group.
“Artificially,” Allura supplied. “It’s brilliant, really.”
“And how does this affect our mission?” Shiro asked slowly, as if he already knew the answer.
Coran and Allura exchanged a look that could mean anything. “Well, those who are coming on the mission will have to pair off. I will be there, obviously. And Shiro, I think you should, too. The rest…”
“Nope,” said Pidge flatly, before anyone even looked in her direction. “Not going to happen. Definitely not.”
“Pidge, be reasonable--” started Allura.
“I refuse,” said Pidge fiercely, which made everyone sit up straight.
“Well, Allura doesn’t have to have a partner, does she?” asked Shiro, hoping to smooth over the tension.
“It’s expected,” Allura said with a frown. “A single person at a social gathering is a scandal. The aim here is to bring the least amount of attention to ourselves. You will need a partner, too, Shiro.”
They exchanged looks around the table. Lance found himself glancing from paladin to paladin, wondering if they all felt as awkward as he did. Pidge was looking at her food furiously, Hunk had his usual worried expression, Shiro was embarrassed and Keith--
Keith was staring at Shiro from across the table. His eyes were serious and focused, like he had locked onto a target in his lion. It was as though he was trying to communicate with Shiro mentally, but the black paladin wasn’t making eye contact with anyone.
And then it clicked. Shiro was Keith’s greatest weakness. He worshiped the guy. He would do any number of embarrassing or dangerous things if Shiro asked him too. He would follow him to the ends of the universe.
“Well, I think it’s obvious who the lucky guy will be,” Lance drawled, putting on his best seducing voice. He stretched his arm around Shiro who flinched noticeably. “Shiro, babe, if you ask me, I might have to say ‘yes’.”
Hunk, who had started to eat to cover his own embarrassment, laughed and started to choke. Pidge’s laugh sounded more sarcastic and Coran was loudly mirthful. Keith only glared and Lance felt a wide smirk grow on his face.
“Number one smoothest socialite and best dancer besides,” Lance drawled on, savouring the daggers that Keith was throwing with his eyes. “I think I can convince a bunch of stuck up aliens that I am the best boyfriend around.”
“That’s--” Shiro started, only just recovering from the awkwardness. “Fine, Lance will do. Just-- maybe don’t lay it on so thick.”
“Oh, I’ll let you lay it on thick,” Lance shot back in a low voice, waggling his eyebrows. Shiro buried his face in his hands and groaned, Pidge started to actually laugh, and someone fell off their chair.
When they had recovered, Allura was thinking. “That leaves me without a partner,” she said, almost looking a little sad that no one was jumping to accompany her.
“Well, besides Pidge, we don’t have any other girls.” Shiro said, looking around the table. “Unless--”
“Yes!” Lance said with triumph. Suddenly, his plan for reclaiming his ego and gaining the upperhand over Keith was skyrocketing towards success. He nearly jumped to his feet. “Someone will have to dress up!” The look of horror on the remaining paladin’s faces was beautiful. “Hunk-- sorry, I don’t think you would pass.”
“No offense taken,” said Hunk, putting his hands up. “I am as manly as they come.”
“That leaves--”
“No!” Keith was on his feet, hands on either side of his plate. “Absolutely--”
“Keith,” Allura said, and her voice was like a whip. “This is a mission, not some game. Everyone will do their part. You are just as obligated to help as Pidge.” Keith cringed under the force of her words.
“We’ll toss a coin,” said Shiro, always the voice of reason. “Tails is Pidge, heads is Keith.”
Oh, this was going so much better than planned.