Work Text:
The paladin gripped tightly onto his lion’s controls, shutting his eyes close in pain. Pain was all he could feel as he rewound Matt’s quick report in his head, the words hitting him, all of them, like a punch in the gut.
Their relief from getting away alive and the surprise at Lotor’s actions died out, a somewhat deafening silence taking over team Voltron as they made their way back to the spaceship.
His heart, moments before filled with nothing but fear and adrenaline, felt heavy with what could only be described as heartbreak. Lance’s head fell forward, the stars they passed suddenly too much to look at. He felt Red try to reach him, but dismissed her attempt at consolation, finding himself muttering in his mind in response.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry–
“Shiro,” he called without looking up at the way said man stared at him through the screen, understanding, concerned, hurt like the rest of them.
“Tell Keith to head to the castle.”
“Lance–“
“Please,” he practically begged, noticing the way his voice failed at the end. He didn’t see, but the black paladin responded with a small, short nod before doing as asked.
Lance cut the communication off then, knowing that Keith’s voice would tip him over the edge, make him say what he shouldn’t; make him break right then and there, still piloting Red, in front of everybody.
The lions arrived at their respective hangars shortly after, the paladins pulling off with defeated expressions all over their faces. They explained what had happened to Coran and watched the man’s smile vanish, his own look soon matching the rest of the team’s. Everyone waited until a small, purplish grey ship approached, soon being let inside.
Keith didn’t take long to arrive at the main room; he wore the Blade uniform as he walked in with fast steps and a clueless smile. “I’m glad everyone’s safe–” he said quickly, but then took notice of the frowns and disapproving looks directed at him. He froze on the spot, staring at them in confusion, trying to spot what was amiss.
“Matt told us,” Pidge offered, arms crossed and eyes refusing to meet his.
Realization hit him, one of his hands reflexively going up to squeeze his other arm, his gaze lowering. No one spoke, tension in the air thick enough to be cut with a knife. Pidge kept her previous position, Hunk and Allura were off to the back of the room, unsure of what to do or say. Coran stood beside Shiro, both men trying to grasp the right words for the situation– what did the team need? Comfort? Someone to chew the boy out for his reckless manners?
“Let me do this,” Lance suddenly spoke, more quietly than he usually did, head finally snapping up to look at Keith as his eyes pierced through him. Keith met his gaze hesitantly, watching as the paladin approached him slowly. The closer he got, the clearer his exhaustion was apparent, shoulders stiff and hands balled into fists.
Once they stood close enough to each other, it took a few moments before Lance dropped his gaze, letting out a short sigh. “Not here. Your mission’s over, right? Stay the night.”
“Um,” the boy said, blinking at him. “Sure. Lance–“
“Let’s cool off. Shower, eat something,” Lance walked past him, directing himself to the hallways. “Then we’ll talk.”
With the tan boy’s exit, the room fell silent once more. Keith stood glued on his spot, trying to process Lance’s behavior while also thinking of what to say to the rest of his teammates. Before he could open his mouth, however, Pidge followed Lance in long strides, Hunk behind her. The latter stopped next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lance will say everything and more, but dude, just. Don’t do that to us again.”
The yellow paladin proceeded to walk out of the room as well, leaving him to the remaining three people who were also angry at him. His eyes immediately went to Shiro, unsure of what to expect. Said man shook his head slightly, crossing his arms. “Princess Allura and I will handle Lotor’s talk for now. Go.”
He nodded weakly, slowly turning on his heels to head to his room. He knew the way by heart, his feet bringing him there without barely any effort. Keith let the door open for him as he took a deep breath before stepping inside. His bed was made, his clothes carefully folded on top of it, boots placed on the far end of the room.
Keith had left his few personal belongings there, aware he wouldn’t need them where he was going; a quiet, unspoken hope of coming back to his team, his family. But he had left them where they were, messily scattered around as he hadn’t gone back before leaving with the Blade. Taking his usual grey shirt and bringing it to his nose, he sniffed the fabric, noticing it had been washed after he was gone.
The raven haired boy couldn’t help but shudder slightly, all the emotions he held mixing together, the realization at what had almost happened, what he had almost done hitting him– the thought that his room would be empty of his presence forever, that he would never again wear the clothes one of his fellow paladins cleaned and folded so neatly just to obediently wait for Keith to get back.
Lance, he guessed, tightening his hold on the piece of clothing before putting it back where he had found it. Keith quickly made his way to his bathroom, stripping out of his dark outfit and getting into the hot shower he much needed.
Keith felt the gentleness of the water caressing his skin, welcoming it with a relieved sigh. He was aware everything had become a mess and he was the main reason why, but his thoughts focused on the positive side of things for once, thanking the universe for the successful mission, for his friends being safe and sound. The paladin washed his dark locks and rubbed his body absentmindedly, letting the falling water do most of the work. Once he was done, he stepped outside, the shower head immediately turning off behind him.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, Keith grabbed another one to absorb the excessive water from his hair. He moved back to the room, wiping his skin dry before changing into his clothes. Keith had particularly missed his gloves, having gotten used to the leather fabric on his hands from wearing them so frequently. Finally putting on his signature red cropped jacket, the boy left the room to head to Lance’s door right beside his.
In front of it, Keith stalled. He didn’t know if Lance was out of his shower yet, or if he should wait for the paladin to go to him instead. Before he could change his mind and run from the inevitable rather than facing the tan boy, he raised his hand and knocked on the metal surface.
Unconsciously, Keith began playing with the hem of his sleeve as he waited. Without warning, the door opened, Lance’s figure suddenly standing before him with the same expression he bore in the main hall. The paladin stepped aside without saying a word, silently telling Keith to come inside.
Keith did just that, walking to the middle of the room as he nervously glanced around. Taking in his surroundings, he noticed Lance kept way more things in his room than he did; pictures, a variety of small items from random planets they had visited, a few books, a television and a gaming console Keith didn’t remember him buying, his paladin armor which was scattered around the floor and finally the red bayard sitting by itself on a surprisingly clean desk.
When he looked up, Lance had an eyebrow arched at him, an unsurprised look on his face as he stared at the wet dark locks going all the way down to Keith’s shoulders.
“What?” Keith asked, taken aback by the other’s gaze.
Lance’s serious expression didn’t wear off as he went to his bathroom, coming back seconds later with a small tube, a comb and an obnoxiously orange blow drier. Keith could only watch as the other set everything on the previously almost empty desk and pulled out the chair from underneath it, gesturing for the raven haired boy to sit.
Usually Keith would reject the offer, argue that it was pointless and his hair was just fine. This time, however, Keith did as Lance wished, sitting on the cushioned chair before the tan boy spinned him around, standing behind him.
Uncapping the bottle he had brought, Lance squeezed a bit of its content in his palm, rubbing his hands together briefly. He let his fingertips feel the end of Keith’s hair on his shoulder, before passing it all along the tips. Once he thought he had spreaded it well enough, Lance went for the comb and began, slowly, untangling the boy’s hair with it.
Keith was tense despite the kind treatment, not used to a quiet, serious Lance. He tried to relax under the boy’s ministrations, but something tingled inside him whenever he felt the fingers on his skin. Keith let out a silent gasp when Lance reached and pulled his bangs up, touching his forehead. The paladin gently pulled Keith’s head back a few inches, combing the hair backwards while his free hand secured the boy’s position.
Moments later, Lance let him sit upright again, this time going for the blow drier next to them. He turned it on, the temperature being set to medium before he started blowing Keith’s hair. Keith closed his eyes, focused on not freaking out over long fingers flipping his hair from one side to the other, trying to get the strands to dry. Lance was careful with it, hand almost stroking Keith’s scalp as it moved from one side to another.
As hard as it was, Keith managed to stay still for him, watching as Lance moved to stand in front of the chair. He blew the hot air on his bangs, drier far enough not to accidentally burn Keith’s skin with the heat. The boy had his eyes closed instinctively, afraid he would keep staring at Lance were he to keep them open.
The sound died once Lance turned the gadget off. He looked at the sitting boy’s face, fingers instantly traveling to fix the black bangs. Keith opened his eyes then, swallowing hard before opening his mouth.
“I’m not done,” the paladin broke the silence, making Keith frown at his emotionless tone. Lance kept smoothing his hands over the hair, feeling the ends of the boy’s mullet, pulling a few stray strings of hair behind his ear. “Everyone there has a sword and no one thought of giving you a haircut? It’s gotten longer than before.”
“Um,” Keith gulped, eyes downcast. “Scissors are better for it. And I don’t really–“
“Care,” Lance finished for him, letting go of his hair finally. He stood upright, looking away. “I’m aware.”
Keith got up, standing in front of the other. “Lance, it’s not like–“
“Yeah, it is exactly like that,” the tan boy interrupted him, eyes meeting him in a cold glare Keith had never been directed before. Lance stepped further away from him, a hand being brought to his forehead in distress. “I can’t– I don’t even know where to begin, Keith.”
“Let me explain,” Keith tried, getting closer to the paladin, holding back from reaching out to touch Lance – to feel the warmth of his sun kissed skin, to see the smile that haunted his sleep every night since he had left, to hear his name the way only Lance ever called it; softly, like it fit his voice perfectly.
“I don’t want your excuses!” Lance’s tone rose abruptly as he yelled at the boy, high enough to be heard by anyone near the area. The chill from his gaze had dissipated and turned into sheer anger like Keith had never experienced. “No one wants your excuses! We barely made it today! If it weren’t for Allura’s magic, we’d all be dead by now and you–“ Lance was shouting the words, spilling them like an unstoppable flow of resentment that had reached its limit. “You just go and almost kill yourself the first time you get a chance!”
Keith’s hands had turned into fists by then, eyes glued on Lance’s furious ones. He listened intently, watching as the other’s features trembled, face twisted in rage, sadness, pain.
“And we were too far to stop you! You were going to die, sacrificing yourself to break a stupid ship’s shield, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything! Keith,” his voice broke at the end, eyes closing shut as he tried his hardest not to break with it. “I’d never get to see you again. You’d be caught in the explosion and, and all I’d have of you would be those stupid clothes and regret!” His voice had finally lowered, hand clutching the fabric of his shirt on top of his chest. “How could you?”
The question had come in an exasperated, breathy whisper that pierced right through Keith’s heart. The raven haired boy bit his lip harshly, taking in all the words, each syllable Lance spoke making him wish he could take all that hurt away, fix everything he had done wrong and go back to where they were before.
For the first time, Keith consciously cursed their situation, their roles in the war. The universe was too heavy of a burden to be born by five children, a princess and a counselor. He had never missed Earth before; there was nothing for him back then, and so he welcomed the part of a soldier whose purpose was solely to fight, despite what it took.
But seeing Lance in the verge of tears because he had almost lost Keith made him wish to go back and start over; to actually introduce himself to the tall, loud boy in the back of the classroom, befriend him and hold onto him because that kid was worth fighting a millennial space war for – he was worth coming home to.
“I’m sorry,” he let out, looking up to see the tan boy’s wet orbs staring at him. “Lance, I’m so sorry.”
Lance sobbed, finally giving up holding back the tears as they rolled down his cheeks ceaselessly, like an open faucet. Lance’s hands flew to his face, rubbing his eyes, trying pointlessly to stop himself.
Keith stepped closer, his own eyes watering at the sight, his feelings boiling inside him, begging to be acknowledged, begging Lance to stop crying because it was too much for Keith to take.
“I was so scared,” Lance said between sobs without looking up, sitting on the bed behind him. “I was so scared we were gonna die today. I kept thinking of you, either that I–I wanted to see you again or that I finally had a reason to be happy you weren’t with us,” he took a sharp intake of breath, his crying being reduced to small sobs as his hands fell to his knees, unmoving. “And when we were safe, I couldn’t wait to meet you. Your mission was over, you’d come back to us, I’d have you here again.”
Keith felt a few stray tears wetting his own cheeks, coming closer before kneeling down in front of Lance, looking up at the boy. “I’m here. I’m here for you, Lance, I’d– I never intended on leaving you.”
“For a moment, yeah, you did,” the paladin spoke harshly, trying his best to glare at Keith through the wetness on his eyes. “If a Galra prince had not stepped up, you wouldn’t be here.”
“What–What can I do? To–“
Take the pain away.
“For you to forgive me, Lance?”
“I’m never forgiving you for that,” tan hands were back on Lance’s face, supporting his downcast head as he refused to meet Keith’s eyes despite their proximity. “I can’t trust you. If you head off alone again, I–I won’t be able to sleep. Everyday I don’t see you I won’t know if you’re still alive or not. If I’ll– Get to see you again.”
“Don’t say that,” a sob escaped Keith’s lips, the sound catching Lance off guard as he quickly removed the palms covering his face and stared at the kneeling boy. “I don’t want to hurt you, Lance, all I wanted was to protect you and– and everyone.”
Keith sniffed, both gloved hands being placed on top of Lance’s knees, lightly squeezing the jeans beneath them. He hated it, all his instincts screaming at him to stop, to hide, to control himself, but he couldn’t; he owed Lance his true emotions after what he caused him.
“Keith,” Lance called, his tears having stopped as he gazed at the boy with wide, astonished eyes. “Killing yourself won’t protect us. You’re a paladin of Voltron before you’re a Blade soldier – we need you, Keith.”
It was Keith’s turn to hang his head, dark bangs covering his eyes as more sobs filled the room. The paladin’s back trembled as tears kept falling, forming tiny puddles on the floor. Lance’s arms soon enveloped him, pulling him up from his spot and bringing him to the mattress to sit next to him.
His eyes kept hidden, Keith’s own arms being wrapped around himself, his entire figure shaking. Lance brought a hand to the pale face, coaxing him to lift his head, to look at him. It worked, but Keith’s eyes were shut, opening only when Lance began slowly stroking his fingers over his cheeks, brushing away the tears.
He looked up weakly at the other boy, relishing in the warmth of his touch. “Lance…”
“Yeah?” Lance asked softly, continuing his caresses.
“I missed you,” Keith said, being followed by another sob. “I missed you so much.”
The words drew Lance’s own tears over the edge once more, his arms instantly flying to wrap themselves around Keith and pull the boy into his embrace, holding tightly as if afraid he would disappear.
Keith immediately hid his face on Lance’s shoulder, taking in his scent and the heat enveloping him, his own hands clenching into the back of the boy’s jacket. “Lance.”
“Keith,” Lance called, bringing a hand to the soft dark locks he had finished drying not long before and holding onto a fistful, his free arm pulling Keith’s body impossibly close to his. He felt the boy’s uneven breathing on his neck, his trembling arms squeezing Lance tightly.
They stayed still until Lance’s eyes were dry and Keith’s crying had ceased, loosening their hold on one another. Keith pulled away just enough to look at Lance, staring into his eyes.
“I haven’t told you,” Lance broke the silence, voice soft as he watched Keith’s confused expression.
“What?”
“Anything,” the tan boy gave a small, sorrowful smile. “I haven’t told you anything yet, Keith.”
“Lance, what–“
Lance pulled Keith closer and pressed their lips together. He saw violet eyes going wide for a second before the two paladins closed their eyes, almost simultaneously. It was a simple touch, a way to try to convey, even if only partly, his feelings to the boy in his arms.
They pulled away shortly after, but remained close. Lance couldn’t help but grin at the blush gracing Keith’s pale cheeks, glassy eyes waiting for a continuation of his words.
“I have– So much to say to you,” Lance repeated, essentially in a whisper, before he pulled dark bangs upwards to reveal Keith’s forehead and kissed the skin. “I missed you too. Your stupid mullet, your bad temper, your smile.”
“Lance,” Keith closed his eyes as Lance bumped their noses together, breathing deeply as he pushed a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear. He pulled him back into his arms, letting the boy’s head rest in the crook of his neck. Keith relaxed into the embrace, hands lying on Lance’s shoulders.
“Can I,” Keith spoke moments later, close to Lance’s ear. “Stay?”
“As if I’d let you go anywhere tonight,” Lance whispered, feeling the other’s lips curving through the fabric of his shirt.
Keith pulled apart to stare at him, thanking the universe for the second time that evening – for being alive and getting to be in Lance’s warm, strong arms for the rest of his night. For having gotten a second chance to get to know the boy, to fight alongside him, to protect and be protected, to hold and be held, to love and–
The raven haired boy closed the distance between their lips one more time, briefly, watching the way Lance’s whole face lit up at the short contact. Keith smiled at him, silently praying for the universe to deliver him one more miracle.
To one day be able to bring Lance back to Earth with him.
