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Keith hadn’t been lucky enough to start testosterone before he was taken to space in a giant metal lion. He had, however, been lucky enough to start going to a school who accepted him with open arms. The Garrison, upon finding out that Michelle was actually named Keith, and was a boy instead of a girl, they made quick changes to his forms and in their systems. Going into the school, he honestly expected denial, and to be told that because his name was legally Michelle and his gender was legally female, there was nothing they could do. But, as previously stated, he’d been lucky.
Having that name change at school also meant that everyone he met there would know he’s a boy, and probably wouldn’t think otherwise. That seemed like a good thing to him going into school, but now? Cursed. He was cursed. Since everyone on Team Voltron had known him from the Garrison, including Shiro (despite the popular belief that they’d known each other beforehand), no one knew that he was trans. And yes, that is a problem.
Now, a few weeks after being launched into space and recruited as the Red Paladin, Keith’s good ol’ Aunt Red is here to visit.
Keith’s been having his period for five years, and it’s pretty regular, so back on earth, it wasn’t always something he was super worried about. He’d had these awesome pads that didn’t feel gross or anything, and that could go the promised eight hours, even on his heaviest days. He hadn’t planned on leaving earth and never coming back on that day though, so he wasn’t exactly prepared with a lifetime’s supply of pads and pain meds.
When he woke up this morning, and felt that tell-tale ache, he knew he was screwed. He’s been worried about this for a whole week and a half, and now it was here, ready to wreak havoc on Keith and his daily life. He wasn’t going to let his period win without a fight, though, so he put on his clothes, ignored the slow drip he was sure would start seeping down his leg within the hour, and went about his day.
This morning’s breakfast had gone by relatively smoothly. There was no stain on the seat after Keith stood up to depart, so that was good. No one seemed to notice he was a little out of it. No one noticed his extra three cups of coffee (his coping mechanism while Aunt Red was in town), and if they did, didn’t say anything. It was a normal breakfast.
After breakfast, the paladins were scheduled to train, which is when shit really hit the fan. Keith had started feeling the blood flow steadily a little while after breakfast, and he was sure it had spread on the insides of his thighs, which lead to chafing. Along with being uncomfortable, Keith also started getting a bit woozy after starting to train with Pidge. He had been losing a lot of blood, after all. His first and second days were always the heaviest. On top of that, he’s kind of a small guy, so the blood loss affects him more than it would someone else.
Then, just to add the icing to the cake, the cramps kicked in. Keith has the worst cramps, but back on earth, he had meds that helped a lot, so he wasn’t forced to deal with them. Being without them, especially while training, was absolutely awful. One hit could send him to the floor and have a tear bubbling in his eye. It was so fucking bad.
Keith, however, is one stubborn piece of shit, so he made it through training. He got knocked down a few times, but it’s okay. Everyone seems to think it’s just an off day for him. No one suspects a thing.
After training, they don’t have anything scheduled for the rest of the day, for which Keith thanks his lucky stars. He doesn’t know how he’d be able to handle doing other things today. Just training was bad enough. So, he goes to the showers, which are vacant, thank god, and cleans himself up, washing away the literal blood, sweat, and tears. With a clean pair of sweatpants on and a fresh black v-neck t-shirt, he heads back to his room. When he gets there, he curls up in a ball in his sheets, and tries to ignore the cramps and take a nap.
Tries, and fails, to take a nap. He lays there, completely still, for maybe half an hour before the pain becomes too much and he starts to cry, around an hour before dysphoria hits and he starts to sob, and roughly two hours before he hears a bang on his door.
“Keith, I swear to god, if you stole my-”
Lance. Of course it’s Lance.
Lance, who was saying something just a second ago, and stopped mid sentence. Did he remember leaving the thing someone stole somewhere? Did something outside distract him?
Did he hear Keith crying.
Keith hopes not. Because then, Lance will want to come in, and talk to Keith, and he’ll ask Keith whats wrong, and Keith will spill, only because he’s weak for those kind blue eyes. But he doesn’t want to. He isn’t ready to tell anyone, let alone Lance, that he’s not a real guy. What if Lance thinks less of him? What if Lance actually thinks Keith isn’t a real guy? What if Lance is grossed out about Keith being on his period? What if, what if, what if?
Then comes to soft, “Keith?” and Keith can’t help but to let out another strangled cry.
“Keith, what’s wrong? Can I come in?”
Keith doesn’t want him to. But, at the same time, he does. They both know they don’t hate each other. They’ve grown quite close in the past few weeks. Keith thinks he can trust Lance. And, god, this hurts so much alone, it would be incredible to be able to have someone to confide in. So, he says with as much control over his voice as he can summon, “come in.” And he hears the door slide open, and then closed, and he can hear footsteps, but he doesn't lift his head. He’s facing away from the door, and he doesn’t lift his head, or turn it, or open his eyes.
“Keith?” Lance asks, softly. Keith hums to acknowledge Lance’s presence.
“Can I sit on your bed?” Another hum of response from Keith, and he feels the new weight pressing on the mattress.
“Can you sit up so I can talk to you?” And Keith sits up, not because he has to, but because he wants to, and he wants to talk to Lance.
He knows he looks like shit. His eyes are puffy, his nose is running, his face is all red and wet, but Lance still looks at him so soft, and not-disgusted. Lance isn’t seeing a mess of a person, he’s just seeing Keith, and that’s what gives Keith the okay to start talking.
“I have something to tell you,” Keith admits quietly. “Okay,” Lance replies, and shifts a little to be looking more directly at Keith.
“My name hasn’t always been Keith,” he starts. He looks down before saying the rest. “I used to have a different name. I used to have… I used to have a girl’s name. I was born a girl,” he says, unsure of himself, unsure of what Lance’s reaction will be, unsure if this will be the end of their friendship.
There’s a few seconds of silence before Keith looks up again, and he sees Lance’s face soften even more in understanding. He looks like he’s about to say something, but Keith speaks up first.
“I never started hormone therapy back home. I still get… I still get my period, and today was my first time having it in here, and I don’t have anything to help it, and my cramps are always really bad and I don’t have medicine, and training was shit, and I feel like shit, and I don’t really know what to do.”
He sees Lance processing and thinking about what to say next. He ends up sighing, giving up on trying to say something (wow, that’s a first), and he simply reaches his arms out and pulls Keith into a hug.
“Thank you for telling me,” Lance settles on as Keith brings his arms up to reciprocate the hug. “You know, Pidge gets a period too. She probably has pads or something. Do you want me to go ask her about it?”
“Yeah,” Keith whispers. With that, Lance backs out of the hug, stands up, and leaves with, “I’ll be right back.”
He returns about ten minutes later with a box of pads in hand and the news that Pidge has talked to Allura, and Alteans go through the same thing, so she’s got a storage room stashed with as many pads as could possibly be needed.
Keith thoroughly thanks Lance and heads into the bathroom with yet another clean set of underwear and sweats. Once finished, he goes back into his room to find Lance sitting on his bed. Lance looks at him and asks, “is there, uh, anything that I can do to help you with cramps? Anything that’d make it hurt less?”
“Anything? At all?” Keith questions.
“Yeah. Anything you’re okay with.”
“Uh,” Keith says, quite eloquently. “When I first started getting my periods, my mom would rub my stomach, and it’d always help with cramps,” Keith says shyly, knowing that’s probably too much to ask of Lance. However, Lance scoots back on the bed so he’s up against the headboard, and motions for Keith to sit between his legs.
Keith gets on his bed as well and situates himself with his back against Lance’s stomach and his body resting between Lance’s legs. Lance lifts his hands in front of Keith’s abdomen, but hesitates, asking, “over your shirt or under your shirt?”
“Under.”
Lance slides his hand under the seam of Keith’s shirt and sets his hands down over Keith’s diaphragm. “This okay?” he asks.
“Uh,” Keith thinks, and decides to place his hands over Lance’s and slide them down just a little, so his hands are over the area where his cramps are located. “There,” Keith confirm, and takes his hands away from Lance’s.
Lance begins gently rubbing across the skin, pushing down just a bit, and the light pressure feels so, so nice for Keith.
“Thank you,” Keith says.
“Of course,” Lance replies. “You’re not alone here, Keith. None of us are going to think any different about you because you’re trans. You’re still Keith. You’re still a guy. We wanna help you. I wanna help you. You don’t have to hide from us. You don’t have to be alone.”
And Keith is glad that this time, he decided to open up to Lance. That he decided as well. He doesn’t have to be alone.