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This is the absolute last thing Keith needs right now.
Life has been hellish. He’s had the shit kicked out of him by someone he loved, had to watch them die and come back to life. He’s had to endure a long, frustrating journey, listening to his teammates suffer hit after hit while he desperately begs Black, Shiro, and whatever freakish cosmic forces exist to propel him faster. He’s had to fight an extremely intense, terrifying battle in a giant sea of quintessence, only to be forced ignore all his instincts and leave a crazy, power-mad Galran prince in the midst of a source of endless, literally infinite, power.
It could have gone worse, of course, but for some reason he still feels like he’s a just few ticks away from faceplanting the ground in exhaustion.
And now his dog is missing. Right when he wants nothing more in the universe than to curl up into her fur and sleep for sixty vargas.
It’s definitely got his anxiety spiking. How do you lose a giant, fluffy alien dog in the middle of a barren landscape, anyway? Especially one that’s rather attached to him. She couldn’t have forgotten about him in time that he was gone, right?
His next, panicked steps are taken with such speed and urgency that he trips and almost falls over the roof of a small, natural alcove.
A familiar voice calls out, startled. “Who’s there?”
He leans over the edge and peers down, surprised. Below him, his beloved pet lies with her head resting in Lance’s lap. Traitor.
Launching himself gracefully over the edge and landing in a roll, Keith approaches the both of them carefully, examining. Lance avoids looking at him.
“What do you want?” he calls out to the side, brown fingers weaving, sorting out wafts of white fur.
“I was looking for my dog,” he says, hands up in a gesture of peace. Despite the stab of envy he feels at being so suddenly abandoned for Lance, he’s not planning on getting between them. His pet can do what she wants, after all. “I couldn’t find her and I got worried.”
If this is where she wants to stay, Keith can’t really blame her. The movement of Lance’s hands is gentle, rhythmic, soothing. Suddenly, he’s not so sure which of the two he ought to be jealous of.
Shit, you’d think he’d have better stuff to think about after almost dying several times in a row, but then again, it has been literal years since he’s been around a cute boy.
And boy, is Lance cute. He still recognizes the butterflies in his stomach when he sees him, alive and well after all this time. Even in the dark, he can make out his familiar sloped nose, the softness of his hair, the curve of his lips - doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything about it though, especially when he’s this tired. He’s honestly surprised that he’s still standing.
- It’s probably why it takes him a minute to comprehend what it means, Lance being here alone.
Lance is never, ever alone after a mission, especially one as intense as this. It’s how he rides out the adrenaline, the tension, buzzing around, talking the ear off of anyone present about how cool they all were and how much they kick Galra butt.
To see him position himself away from the group, almost like how Keith used to, just feels wrong. There must be something wrong. He can feel it, ready to snap like tightly wound elastic in the silent air between them, offset only by the calming, mesmerising movements of Lance’s hands. Ugh. He rips his eyes away.
Mindful to keep his tone gentle and free from accusation, he decides to just speak his thoughts. “Why are you out here by yourself? It doesn’t seem like you.”
Lance tilts his head upwards, but his tone remains needlessly defensive. “I’m just thinking is all! Did you need me for something?” At this angle, Keith can finally see his eyes, wet and reflective. Oh.
“Need you for-? No.” Keith is way too tired to deal with something like this with any finesse. But he can’t ignore the worry eating away at his stomach, either. “Uh… Did you want me to get Hunk?”
“Was he looking for me?”
Oh. Well. No, actually. In fact, no one seemed to notice that Lance was gone. This is so weird. Even with his apparently terrible ability to reading social interactions he can tell that this is weird. What had happened between them all while he was away?
He must take too long to respond, because Lance tries and fails to repress a sniffle. Why was that noise so damn distressing?
“Don’t bother him with anything.” It’s hard to miss the strain in Lance’s voice now. “Just leave me alone. You can take your dog.”
He tries to move to dislodge the head on his lap, but she burrows in, licking his arm. Keith tries to rack his brain for something comforting to say. What would Shiro do? He can’t just leave Lance all alone by himself, even though the uncomfortableness of the situation has his fight or flight instinct going nuts at the forefront of his brain.
And when he looks back at Lance, so small and vulnerable against the empty background, Keith feels guilty for even considering it.
As leader, he’s going to do his goddamn best. Who the hell is afraid of emotional vulnerability? Not him. Biting the bullet, his tone direct and blunt, he asks, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“What- I mean, sure. I guess. Why, though? Don’t you kind of hate me?” Lance struggles to lift his head from where he’s watching the soft, white lump in his lap. “I don’t need you here out of pity. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“I don’t hate you.” He says as he sits, wiggling his legs under a warm, fluffy belly. That part is simple at least. He thinks it would be impossible to hate someone as beautiful and bright as Lance. Find him annoying, sure, but hate him? He’s just too likeable, too energetic. It would be like hating sunshine, or rainbow ice cream.
His dog certainly loves him, the way she keeps nuzzling and licking at his hands. Ice cream, Keith thinks as he watches, I really want ice cream. He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement as he watches Lance return her affections with equal fervour, rubbing at her ears and smoothing down the fluff at her cheeks.
“I see you’re still as popular with the ladies as ever, loverboy.” He quips, hoping that his attempt at a joke would lighten the mood, maybe even encourage the crack of a smile. But if anything, Lance’s expression becomes stormier.
“I don’t need you here to make fun of me,” he snaps in response. He crosses his arms, leaving her whining and nudging upwards with the tip of her nose. She’s such a spoilt little thing, a consequence of her being the main focus of his attention for two years straight.
“I wasn’t making fun, Lance, she clearly loves you.” If his jokes aren’t working, he can at least point out the obvious.
He adds the next part without thinking. “And I missed you. Is it so bad that I want to be here for you?” He tries not to think too hard about how that could be read, if he’s too obvious. “I can leave if you want me too.”
Lance just looks shell-shocked, like Keith’s just informed him of some kind of messed up space-pregnancy. “You missed me?” He shakes his head in disbelief before resuming his usual accusative tone. “What about before? I was so hap- excited, to see you and you totally brushed me off!”
Keith feels a familiar spark of irritation at the words (he was trying his best in a stressful situation, goddamnit) and what comes out probably sounds a little too harsh. “I don’t know if you noticed, Lance, but I was kind of busy!” He takes a deep breath and tries taper down his frustration. “You know that – when there’s a mission or emergency or whatever, I have trouble paying attention to anything else.”
“…Yeah, yeah, you’re right, it was an urgent situation, I’m sorry.” Lance sighs forlornly, resuming his petting, and visibly slumps. “I just feel so terrible, lately.”
“I’m sorry too, Lance.” He learns towards him and puts a hand on his shoulder in a manner which he hopes is comforting, like how Shiro used to do it for him. Sleep deprived, Keith’s brain finally manages grasp at some hopeful-looking straws. “Hey, we’re going to earth, remember? You should have time to see your family.” When he’s met with silence, he continues. “From what I’ve heard about them, they should be really happy to see you. Proud.”
Lance leans into the hand on his shoulder, staring straight ahead. “Will they really be proud of me, though? They shouldn’t be.” His voice cracks painfully, “I’ve been fucking up pretty much nonstop since I got here.”
“Lance…” Keith doesn’t understand, tugs on his shoulder in order to make eye contact. “You’re a defender of the universe. Of course they’ll be proud of you.”
Lance barks out a laugh. It sounds wrong, broken. Keith squeezes his shoulder harder. “Maybe you’re right…” Lance admits. “Still…”
“-Is this about Shiro? Because you can’t blame yourself for that.” He cuts Lance off, wanting to eliminate that particular line of thought straight away. “I knew him better than anyone and I still didn’t do anything. Haggar fooled all of us-”
“-She wouldn’t have fooled you, if you were in my position. He tried to tell me and I-"
“-But I wasn’t there, Lance. You were stuck there for all of that and -"
“-you wouldn’t have left if it weren’t for me. I should have tried harder to convince you to stay.” There are fresh tears now, leaving tracks behind on Lance’s cheeks. Keith desperately wants to touch, to brush them away. “I should have quit being a paladin so you stayed with us.”
“What? Lance, I didn’t leave because of you.” I didn’t think you would care that much if I left. “If anything, I felt better leaving knowing you were there to take care of everyone.”
“And I completely fucked that up, too!” He’s actually crying now, sobs wracking his whole body. Keith has never felt more helpless in his entire life. “I had more reason than anyone not to trust Lotor! And still, I didn’t manage to stop any of this from happening.”
Panicked, Keith reaches out to cup his cheek, “Lance! Lance, look at me, I-"
“I’m sorry, Keith.” He shies away from Keith’s hand. “I’m so pathetic. No wonder Allura could never see anything in me.”
You’re beautiful, he wants to say. Allura doesn’t know how lucky she is. Instead, in a moment of leftover bravery, he wraps his arms around Lance’s shoulders and pulls him against his chest.
“It’s all okay now, Lance.” A hiccup. “No, listen. Everything worked out okay. Shiro’s back for real. We kicked Lotor’s ass. You’re going to see your family, and they’re going to be proud of you.”
Lance buries his face into Keith’s shoulder. “…Thanks.” After a while, his breathing evens out, and a few minutes pass in which Keith considers just leaving it at that.
But honestly, he’s found the exhibition of Lance’s insecurities to be one of the most upsetting things he’s experienced in the past hundred or so hours, which is saying a lot. He doesn’t want to let it rest until he’s reassured Lance as best he can. So, with as much delicacy as possible so as not to discourage Lance from doing anything crazy like moving from his position resting against Keith’s rapidly thudding heart, he nudges him gently. “…I’m not done.”
“What?” Lance mumbles, turning his head upwards.
“You need to know how important you are, Lance.” He sighs, running a gloved hand through his hair. “We would be fucked without you.”
“Keith?” He questions blearily, sitting up. “What are you even talking about?”
“Remember after our fight with Zarkon? I was- I had just lost Shiro again and I was- I couldn’t do anything.” The memories tug painfully at his heart. “I could barely keep myself together, let alone a team. You were the only reason I could lead as much as I did.” He looks down at his wolf, fast asleep on both their laps. “Even today, you were still giving important directions in battle, keeping everyone safe.”
When he shifts his gaze back, he sees Lance smile, hazy and watery, and his brain almost shuts down. “Best right-hand man ever, right?” he whispers gently. As if to demonstrate, he reaches for Keith’s hand (his right hand) and laces their finger together.
“Right.” Keith repeats dumbly. Maybe he’s asleep after all, and what he’s seeing and feeling is the result some kind of messed up exhaustion dream. He leans backwards until his head is resting on the sand, staring up at the stars, trying to comprehend what’s currently happening. How did he get here, again?
Lance, who’s still holding his fucking hand, lies down with him, their legs still trapped under a huge lump of fur. “So…” He drawls out sleepily, and Keith’s heart almost stops. “This is kinda gay, huh?”
Keith would ordinarily want to die at a comment like that. But considering that it is the only thing in that moment that keeps him from calling bullshit on reality, he can only feel grateful for it. He still doesn’t dignify it with a response though, instead curling his arms around the ridiculous and ridiculously beautiful boy next to him and burying his face in his hair, pressing his mouth against the crown of his head.
“So,” Keith murmurs into the brown strands as he feels Lance’s arms wrap around him in return. “Did I do a better job that time?”
“Yeah.” Lance leans up to kiss his jaw. “Yeah, you did, leader.”
It’s the last thing Keith can remember before he finally, finally, falls asleep.