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Keith was acting weird.
Lance sits in Red's cockpit, with a knee jerking in a nervous rhythm. His brows knit together in concentration.
Why was Keith acting like this?
Three days ago, something had changed. Keith kept the team together and talked with them, but once business was done with, he shut himself out. It was subtle, but Lance was attuned enough to Keith's presence to know that something was wrong. He just couldn't pinpoint what.
Keith acted like he did a year ago, when they had just become Paladins. He sought out time alone whenever he could, only he didn't do it with everyone. He was avoiding Lance.
The thought causes a pang in Lance’s chest. It’s a weird, bitter feeling of betrayal. He's supposed to be Keith's right hand man. They're a team, and when you're a part of a team, you're a part of it full-time. No part-time contracts. Keith should be able to confide in Lance if something was off. So why wouldn't he?
Lance watches the evening sky paint everything with hues of gold through Red's window, but his mood sours whatever enjoyment he could get from admiring a sunset. Maybe he should go for a walk to clear his head before it gets dark and stop by Black to ask Keith what was going on. He’d tried already, but every time he brought the subject up, they seemed to have something more important to focus on.
Guess that's part of the job description.
Lance sighs and stands up from his pilot seat.
"I'll be back soon, buddy. Tell Kaltenecker not to worry if she wakes up,” Lance puts his hand on the control panel, a reassuring gesture he refuses to let go off. Red lets out a low rumble in Lance's mind, a wordless confirmation Lance understands.
Lance throws on his jacket, too tired to change from his undersuit, and makes it halfway out of the cockpit door before the control panel beeps.
"Lance? You in there?"
Keith.
"I'm here,” Lance answers, steadying his voice.
Why was Keith contacting him now after days of radio silence? Had something happened? Would they need to take off again? He turns around to face the screen, ready to—
Oh. Keith's standing in front of Red's ramp, wearing his cropped leather jacket on top of his undersuit. The sight causes Lance's breath to hitch. In the halo of the early evening light, Keith looks every bit as handsome as ever, if not more. A breeze ruffles his unruly hair, strands of black curtaining his eyes. Lance realizes this has nothing to do with their job as defenders of the universe. This is personal.
"I need to talk to you. Can I... can I come in?"
Lance reels back. Did Keith just... hesitate? He's only ever heard Keith sound like that twice — when he told them about his Galra blood and introduced Krolia. It takes a moment for Lance to gather himself before he answers, and his voice still wavers.
"Yeah, sure. Just a tic,” he says, and puts his hand on the cockpit's cool metal wall. "Let him in, Red."
Another low rumble in his mind, and Lance hears the ramp doors open. Suddenly he feels bare, standing there in the middle of the cockpit in Red's presence, waiting for Keith to climb up the steps. Abruptly, the space around him turns quiet, like Red decided to shut everything off. He must have sensed Lance's need for privacy. Lance huffs gratefully and pats Red's hull.
"Thanks, buddy. I can always count on you, huh?"
Lance stays near the door, leaning on the closest wall as he waits. Keith's steps approach steady and sure, the sound of boot soles hitting metal growing louder in Lance’s ears. The wait feels excruciating — seconds slowing down to minutes slowing down to hours. A knock on the door snaps Lance back from his thoughts, and then Keith is standing there, right in front of him.
"Hey,” Keith says casually.
Lance hates how much he's missed this. How he’s missed seeing Keith out of duty, more relaxed. Missed those moments when it's just the two of them. Missed that singular tone of voice Keith uses. It feels almost intimate, the two of them standing there. The thought makes Lance's heart beat faster.
"I wanted to talk to you. Alone."
A burst of irritation flares up in Lance's chest — first Keith avoids him and now he just decided to pay him a visit? To talk? Earlier today he was acting like nothing had happened and now he just changed his mind? Lance won't have that.
"Okay, so are you going to tell me why you've been avoiding me or pretend that never happened?"
Keith looks down, his expression turning guilty. That's strange.
"I'm sorry, Lance. I just needed some space. To think."
"About what?" Lance counters, still irritated. "We've worked well as a team. Better than ever actually. So what the hell's made you avoid me?"
"I like you."
Wait.
"... What?"
"I like you, Lance,” Keith repeats. There's no hesitation in his voice. No hidden message. That's not how Keith operates, how he's ever operated. The cockpit's metal floor is tilting dangerously under Lance's feet.
"Good joke, Keith,” Lance tries to force out a laugh to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracks. Damn it.
There's no way Keith of all people would like him. There's just no way. He's an ace pilot, a damn talented fighter and Voltron's new leader. Lance's former rival. He has no reason to like Lance as anything else than as a friend.
Lance can't keep his thoughts from spiraling. Through his daze, he registers Keith stepping up to him. Keith reaches up and cups Lance's face with tentative, gentle hands. Lance freezes. He must be dreaming. There's no way this is really happening. No way in this reality or any other.
Keith lets Lance have his space to back away, but Lance's heart is screaming him to stay, stay, stay. The voice is louder than his mind, the rational part that warns him not to get too close or he'll get burnt again.
"Does this look like a joke to you?" Keith asks, voice soft yet firm. His face is suddenly close, so incredibly close, that it steals Lance's breath away.
Keith dips his forehead against Lance's, and the contact leaves Lance's skin tingling. Keith's touch feels so intimate, that Lance allows himself lean into it. He can feel his nerves relax a fraction.
It's mysterious. Keith's touch always makes him hyper-aware of things, but it's never uncomfortable. Not when they held hands after defeating Sendak, not when they were back to back in the Castle's elevator tunnel, not when they were squeezed together in a group hug. And god, it's been so long since they've had any kind of physical contact. Keith's touch warms Lance up deep to his bones and gives him an inexplicable sense of comfort. It's welcome.
"You're not joking,” Lance's voice comes out as barely a whisper.
"I'd never joke about this."
Lance dares a glimpse up from Keith's cheekbones — which he's been staring intensely to avoid Keith's gaze — and that decision dooms him. Once his eyes meet Keith's, there's no going back. It's impossible to look away. He's never seen Keith's eyes this close. He’d sometimes dreamed of it, yes, but never thought he'd have the chance. Now that he does, it knocks the wind out of him.
There's a fire blazing in Keith's dark eyes. An intense burning that reaches into the bottom of Lance's soul, pries open his heart, and reveals all his deepest thoughts and fears. On the spur of the moment, Lance feels brave for a second, and a second is all it takes.
"Why me? Why me of all people?"
The questions are out before Lance can stop himself. For so long he’s been afraid to voice them in fear of rejection, but all it takes is one glimpse at Keith’s eyes, and Lance’s carefully built act comes undone.
"I like you because you're you, Lance."
The way Keith's words hang in the air tugs at Lance's heart. There's more there. There are things Keith doesn't address out loud and instead tries to convey with his actions, with the almost unnoticeable move of fingers on Lance's cheeks. Keith’s eyes are begging him to understand something, and Lance's heart knows. It somehow, inexplicably, almost ironically, knows, but his mind keeps pushing down the momentary elation because it still feels too good to be true.
He frowns and continues to stare into Keith’s eyes. A silent question passes between them. Keith closes his eyes, then sighs. His breath tickles Lance's face and leaves his skin tingling pleasantly. Keith opens his eyes and meets Lance's gaze with the same intensity as before.
"You're selfless, brave, fun to hang out with, and I wouldn't have made it this far without you. You used to rile me, but it's because I didn't know you, not really. You make me happy, Lance, and that's so fucking surreal because I'm not used to this kind of thing. But you do that by just being you."
Lance's world is spinning, spinning around faster by the second as Keith's words keep replaying in his head.
Make me happy.
Wouldn't have made it.
Fun to hang out with.
Brave.
And the loudest voice of them all:
You do that by just being you.
Lance has gotten better about appreciating himself recently. Even so, hearing Keith — Keith whom he admired, who inspired him, who always seemed to be a step ahead — say all those things feels surreal. His words paint Lance’s world from grayscale to full color. They're equals. They've always been, and the thought makes Lance want to laugh. He never needed his bravado. He never needed to beat Keith at anything.
"I don't want anyone else, Lance. I want to be with you. I've wanted that for a long time.” Keith smiles at him as if he were looking at a sunset or something precious. He's baring all of his heart to Lance, and Lance doesn't remember ever seeing Keith this open.
Wait.
Lance reels back. Since when has Keith looked at him like this? Lance's mind starts replaying their time together, all the way back to the early days when they had their "bonding moment.” The one moment Lance wasn't ready to admit. Holy shit, has Keith liked him ever since? Lance's world is turning upside down, and no, he can't keep doing this. He can't keep everything bottled in anymore.
"I like you, too,” Lance blurts out.
Keith's eyes widen, and Lance realizes Keith wasn't sure if Lance felt the same way about him, not even after Lance didn't pull away. Keith took a leap of faith. Keith, the boy who's been abandoned so many times; who's had his walls up almost all his life; who's had trouble connecting with people. Lance has always known Keith was brave, daredevil even, but now he realizes he hadn't the faintest clue of just how deep Keith's bravery ran. It gives him the courage to continue, to lay bare his own heart.
"I've admired you for a long time. Since our Garrison days, actually. I started that rivalry and thought I'd messed up. We still became friends, but then you left and I didn't know how to reach out to you. My crush on Allura got serious and it didn't work out and I know now that we're better off as friends and I respect her and—” Lance is rambling, he’s entirely too aware of it. But Keith took Lance’s walls down with those burning eyes, and Lance can't stop now. He won't stop until he's said it all.
"And you came back all cooler and confident and then one day, I realized I had a crush on you. That I'd fallen for you, little by little. You used to annoy me, but then I got to know the real you and, well, I never stood a chance."
Lance smiles — a wide, content smile he doesn't remember conjuring for who knows how long. It's ridiculous how long it took him to connect the pieces, to admit that Keith Kogane wasn't just a teammate to him. No, he was something much more.
"Is there more you're keeping from me?" Keith chuckles, actually chuckles. His voice is softer than Lance has ever heard before. Then Keith's smiling at him again, that warm smile that makes Lance's heart do somersaults. It's the most breathtaking thing he's ever laid his eyes upon.
Lance returns the gesture and says, "No, I think that's all."
Keith strokes his thumb over Lance's cheekbone, just beneath his eye. Lance is acutely aware of every inch of skin that Keith's palms touch and of all the small calluses on Keith's fingertips from three years worth of wielding swords and fighting. Keith inches closer, eyelids fluttering shut and head tilted. Lance can feel his own pulse all the way down to his fingertips. He closes his eyes.
Keith brushes his mouth against Lance’s carefully. His lips are slightly chapped, yet so damn soft. It’s perfect.
Lance moves his lips against Keith's, wishing he could stop time right then and there. Everything in this moment is only them. Only Keith. The gentle pressure of his lips on Lance's; his hands cupping Lance's face; his scent that reminds Lance of dusk and sweat matched with careful touches that are so perfectly Keith. It's an epiphany that's over way too fast to Lance's liking. When Keith pulls back, Lance opens his eyes slowly, gripping on to Keith's jacket to keep him close.
"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Keith admits to Lance from under his lashes. His expression so open that it takes every ounce of Lance's strength not to kiss him senseless then and there.
There are no more walls between them, no more guessing. Lance inhales deeply and smirks.
"Then show me."
He pulls at Keith's jacket and dives back in, and Keith is there to meet him halfway. Lance trails his hands up to Keith's hair and runs his fingers through the soft strands, making Keith hum against his mouth.
Keith kisses with a kind of intensity that Lance doesn’t expect. He imagined Keith's kisses to be fast and sloppy, bordering on rough. Instead, his kisses are slow and thorough with an underlying fire of passion and tenderness. They move in a slow, tentative rhythm which simultaneously feels every bit perfect and taunting. It leaves Lance drunk on the feeling of Keith's mouth against his.
Lance keeps running his fingers through Keith's hair, tugging at the ends. The action coaxes out a pleased noise deep from Keith’s throat. The sound raises goosebumps on Lance's skin, paired by a shiver that runs from his neck down his spine. He never thought he could hear Keith sound so exposed, yet relaxed. Lance revels in the feeling.
Keith's hands tangle in Lance's hood as he deepens their kiss. He tugs at Lance's bottom lip, traces it with his own tongue and sucks. Shit, that feels good. Lance moans into Keith's mouth and then pulls back, only to capture Keith's bottom lip between his own. Keith trails his hand from Lance's hood to his throat, fingers pressing to his pulse point. His touch feels like fire under Lance’s skin. They're so entangled Lance can't pinpoint where he ends and Keith starts. He can't even say if the warmth burning on his skin is his or Keith's, and he melts into it.
This is just the two of them, vulnerable, sharing a moment he can't put into words. It's like coming home.
They break apart to catch their breaths, hair mussed and cheeks flushed red. Their eyes meet, and Lance can't help the grin that rises to his lips. Keith returns it with a smile of his own, leaving Lance with a want to memorize every inch of it, so he may never forget the exact curve of Keith's mouth or the color of his lips, nor the tiny dimple near the left corner of his mouth.
Lance leans his head down to bury his face into Keith's neck. Keith wraps his arms around Lance's torso, and they stand in a calm silence. For a fleeting moment Keith’s hold tightens slightly, but it's more than enough for Lance to notice. The gesture feels like something akin to desperation, and Lance remembers, yet again, how much loss Keith has gone through in his life.
Lance raises his head and moves to wrap his arms around Keith's shoulders. He dares a glimpse at Keith — his eyes are closed tightly and he’s biting his lip. Lance presses his cheek against Keith's before whispering carefully. "Keith, I'm not going anywhere."
Lance's words snap Keith back to reality. Keith’s his hands fall down to rest featherlight on Lance's hips.
"Sorry, I just..." Keith's voice is guarded, like he were treading on thin ice, and it breaks before he can finish the thought. He swallows, and the gulp in his throat could as well be a warning siren for how loud it echoes in Lance's ears. "I don't want to lose anyone from my family again, but we're in the middle of a war. I don’t know if can stop it."
Lance tightens his hold to let Keith know he heard everything. "Keith, we're going to be okay. Lance and Keith, neck and neck, remember? We've got this.”
Keith lets out a small laugh that tickles Lance's neck. It's barely a breath of air, but Lance counts it as a victory.
"You're right. We're going to make it... as a team." A moment of silence passes, and then Keith's lips brush the shell of Lance's ear, his voice hopeful again as he whispers. "Thank you, Lance."
Lance hums and squeezes Keith's shoulders. Keith kisses his jawline gently and starts trailing a path down Lance's throat, leaving light butterfly kisses on every inch of skin his lips brush. Lance's eyes flutter shut and a sigh passes his lips. Keith's gesture is so appreciative, so loving, that Lance digs his fingers deeper into the fabric of Keith's jacket to ground himself. It's as if every kiss was a wordless confirmation, a different version of reassurance that they are going to make it. That they will survive.
Keith trails a path up Lance's jaw and when he pulls back, Lance steals the moment to press his lips back against Keith's. This time their kiss is even gentler, holding all the weight and tenderness of the moment in a physical form.
I like you, I like you, I like you so damn much, the voice in Lance's head keeps repeating, and it sounds so natural. It’s almost as if it was in Lance's very being to feel this way about Keith. At last Lance pulls back to press his forehead against Keith's.
"So... are we like space ranger boyfriends now?"
Keith's eyes widen and he chuckles. "I can't believe you just gave us a name like that..."
"Says the person who named their cosmic wolf 'Cosmo,’” Lance teases.
"It's a good name!" Keith protests, but Lance sees the moment his mouth quirks up. "And yeah, we are. If you want that, too."
"Yeah, I do," Lance smiles. He can't believe they're finally here, side by side, after avoiding and dancing around the obvious for so long.
Suddenly, Red lets out an amused purr that makes Lance jump. Keith glances up at the cockpit's ceiling, his brow cocked up in question. In two seconds everything falls into place in Lance's head, and then he can’t stop laughter spilling out from his lips. A few seconds later, realization flashes in Keith’s eyes, and then he joins Lance's laugh with his own — a streaming, bubbling sound that makes Lance swear to make Keith laugh whenever he has the chance. It's simultaneously a selfless and selfish promise.
"I can't believe it, Red. You knew something was up, didn't you?" Lance tries to keep his tone reproachful, but bursts out laughing again. He shakes his head in disbelief. Red, his giant robot lion, was eavesdropping on them this whole time.
"Was he like this with you, too?" Lance asks.
"You've no idea,” Keith says with an amused glint in his eyes. "I'm glad you're his pilot. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Well, I couldn't be happier to be your right hand man,” Lance responds reassuringly.
Keith's expression turns serious. "Lance... Listen, I'm still new to all of—,” Keith gestures to the small space between them,"—this. Us. I want to be with you and that won't change, but I'm not the best with romantic gestures."
Lance brushes a strand of hair from Keith's face.
"That's fine. Lucky for you, I'm an expert in all things romance."
"Oh yeah?" Keith quirks up a brow teasingly. "Then what do you suggest we do, Mr. Lover Boy?" The last syllables fall from his lips like dripping honey. It makes a pleasant warmth rise to Lance's cheeks. Oh yes, he will gladly get used to this.
Lance reaches for Keith's hand, brushing their palms together, and Keith responds by entangling their fingers. It's a warm, comforting touch — a promise of something new, something more. A promise of something that's just beginning.
"How about we climb up to watch the sunset from Red's roof?" Lance asks.
Keith smiles and squeezes Lance's hand.
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."