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Since Keith had returned to the paladins with Krolia and his space wolf, Lance had noticed that there was something different about him. Not just his physical appearance - though that in itself was difference enough - but in the way he held himself. Before, when they had only recently begun their mission together to save the universe, Keith would more often than not have a hand tightly curled onto his hip as if he were gripping the sheath of his sword, or both his arms would be crossed against his chest, forming the shield to match the constant weapon at his side.
Now, with his shoulders broadened, Keith stood with his chest exposed and his hands relaxed but firm by his thighs. His stature was no longer one of a wary boy ready to counter and protect himself from the next hit without a word of warning whether it was coming for him or not; it was sturdy and strong. His jaw, though more defined, had learned to slacken and fell into a smile more easily than it used to. It was still a feat to get one out of him, but Lance enjoyed the challenge.
Keith was not the boy who felt unworthy of Shiro’s choice to fill the place he left, nor the one who felt that he was the wrong option to be the Black lion’s paladin, and Lance had absolutely no idea what to do about that.
Lance had almost expected, hoped even, that Keith would slot back into the team and everything would be as it used to; they would bicker on occasion and Lance would have to over-explain a joke to him or stop him from doing something utterly reckless just in the nick of time, but it wasn’t the same. Something was different.
If Lance was honest with himself, which he tried to be, but was finding increasingly difficult of late, he was admittedly, a tiny, little, minuscule bit, sort of intimidated by the new Keith. Lance had always been the taller one of the two, that had been his thing; he enjoyed taking advantage of the inches he had on Keith. Keith had his galra heritage, his piloting skills, and a bond with the Black Lion, but he did not have Lance’s lanky frame.
“You know, when I was your height -”
The comment, though overused at this point, (Hunk and Pidge were probably just as tired of it as Keith was), always elicited the reaction from Keith that Lance wanted. He would scrunch his eyebrows together, so much so that his nose would wrinkle too, and scowl at Lance. Lance would not have been surprised to hear a growl rumble in Keith’s throat as well.
Lance could no longer see over the top of Keith’s head or comfortably rest his arm on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before it was inevitably shaken off. It was heartbreaking, really; now he would have to think of new material to bug him.
It wasn’t just Keith’s height and filled out body, his voice was different too. He commanded himself with a new vigour. When he had first become the Black lion’s paladin, his orders were unsure and his voice showed it; Keith knew what they had to do, but he didn’t know how, and his unknowing slipped into his voice even underneath his hotheaded forwardness. Lance had detected none of his previous wavering as Keith told the team the truth of Lotor. It hadn’t deepened; it was the same voice that had both calmed and enraged Lance on numerous occasions, but now it flowed out of Keith as steady as a river follows the same course it has for centuries. It was unnerving; Lance had believed in Keith’s abilities before he himself did, but there had been, he realised now, some comfort to know that he was not the only one who struggled.
Lance didn’t blame Keith; it wasn’t as though Keith had planned to find a place where time was strange and use it to his advantage, or find his mother and a cool space wolf. It seemed a little unfair on the universe’s part though, Lance mused, for Keith to grow so much in what seemed like no time at all; all Lance had to show for the time that Keith had been gone was a near-death experience and an aching heart, neither of which he particularly felt like sharing with anyone.
He might have shared them with Keith, once, but now that Keith was, well, as he was, it was a though there was an invisible barrier between them that Lance didn’t know how to breach. He had sensed it immediately when Keith returned; open-armed, Lance had been silently hoping for a hug. He hadn’t been expecting one, per se, but after being away, he figured Keith must have missed their touches, small and infrequent as they were, as much as he had. When Keith pushed right past him, his mind on the mission and the mission only, Lance had deflated for a moment and that moment was enough for Lance to feel Keith’s new barrier.
Now that they were on their way back to Earth, back home, Lance thought this would take his mind off things in the stars. He had overlooked the fact that they were still a long, long way from home.
Without the Castle of Lions, they had no wormholes, but Lance was still happy enough knowing that Earth was their destination, even if they had to fly there in their individual lions. Unfortunately, however, it gave him a lot of time to think, which was decidedly what he did not want to do. So, in the middle of the night, though it always felt like night in the depths of space with the swirling shades of blackness and refracting light of stars, he would talk to Hunk.
Lance laid in a makeshift bed in the Red lion with his legs in the air, feet leaning against the wall and crossed at his ankles. “Hey Hunk, what’s the first thing you want to do when we get home?” Home. The word still felt foreign in his mouth.
“Well,” Hunk’s voice came over the communicator; they, meaning just Hunk, had fiddled with it until they had created a two-way conversation between them only. “I want to see my family, obviously, and I want to cook for them as well. I used to do it a lot. It was fun. And I want to see my dog. Keith’s wolf is cool and all, but it really made me miss my dog.”
“Yeah,” Lance replied. He thought about what he wanted to do first. There were so many things, and they were all forming a lump in his throat. Thinking of home only made him miss it more, in the same way that picking at peeling, grazed skin made it sting all the worse. He wished that space wasn’t so big, that the lions could travel faster, but most of all, that Earth was closer to him.
Even though he was the one who had brought it up, he wanted to talk about something else. Lance tapped his fingers on his thigh. “Does Keith seem different to you?”
“Only bigger, cooler, more grizzled.”
Lance cringed at his own words being repeated back to him. “I’m being serious.”
“He doesn’t seem too different to me. More secure in himself, I guess, but that’s it.”
Lance made a noise of agreement. He wanted to believe Hunk, but he hadn’t been as close to Keith as he had been. Had he been close to Keith? Was he? They had gotten closer, that was for sure, but they had been so far apart to begin with it was hard to tell the distance they’d covered.
Hunk yawned loudly over the communicator. “I’m going to sleep. Night, Lance.”
“Night,” Lance murmured back. He wasn’t tired himself, but he didn’t want to keep bothering Hunk with his thoughts.
The person he did want to bother them with was completely out of the question. Somehow, since his return, Lance had only spoken to Keith when he needed to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was that the barrier made him feel like he would be blown back from him if he got too close. Maybe Lance was being ridiculous, it wouldn’t have been the first time, but still, something was preventing him from risking it.
Though he still felt wide awake, Lance sunk himself into the covers and forced his eyes shut.
He dreamed of rain showers and a boy with black hair.
-
Even without the Castle of Lions, Allura was insistent that they keep up their training. The only issue was, now that they only had the lions, they didn’t have the training area anymore.
In the end, they figured that the Black Lion was the biggest and thus had the most room, so they would take turns to practice and hone their skills there. Lance had been looking forward to some rest on the trip back, but Allura was as stubborn as forged metal, perhaps even more so, so Lance resigned his complaints and headed over to the Black Lion with his bayard tucked under his arm, leaving the Red Lion to trail behind them.
“I’m not going to go easy on you,” Keith said when he arrived, his mouth upturned in a smile that was bordering on a smirk. He was in his usual black t-shirt and black trouser combo, though his trousers now showed nearly half of his shins. Keith’s tone had the same element of teasing that Lance was well-accustomed to, but combined with his wider chest and fuller arms which made his shirt cling tighter to his figure than before, Lance felt a twinge of uneasiness in his stomach.
“I wouldn’t want you to.” Lance extended his bayard into its sword form, shoving down the feeling unfurling in his stomach. They would be training close combat, something that Lance did not have the most confidence in. He preferred to take care of things at a distance, but nevertheless, it was a skill he had begun to neglect more recently. He was able to get himself out of a rough situation in a pinch, but he would rather not get into the pinch in the first place.
Keith removed his knife from its sheath and lunged at Lance within the same second. Lance stood back, spread his legs into a more secure stance and threw his bayard up in front of him to shield himself from Keith’s hit. The blades clanged upon impact; the clash of metal echoed and rattled in Lance’s ears. Keith pushed his weight against the blades, his knuckles white, forcing Lance to resist; Lance struggled to keep his feet from sliding backwards. Keith was not letting up.
Baring his teeth in a cat-like grin, Lance slipped his bayard out from beneath Keith’s blade. Keith fumbled for a second in the now open space before regaining his balance, but was able to meet Lance’s thrust with one of his own. Lance pushed against Keith’s blade first this time, but he was unable to gain any ground. Keith’s feet and legs remained firmly as they were no matter how hard he forced; Lance frowned at them. How was Keith’s stance any different to his? In the moment that Lance’s eyes were at the floor, Keith pushed harder until Lance was backed against the wall with Keith’s blade, and his own, at his throat.
“If this were for real, you’d be dead.” Keith’s hot breath washed over Lance’s face. Tiny drops of sweat gleamed on Keith’s upper lip; he was panting slightly and his baby hairs were sticking to the sheen of his forehead. Lance had given him a bit of a challenge at least, then.
Keith’s mouth twitched into a smug smile. Lance scowled.
“I gotta admit, though, you’ve got better.” Keith dropped his sword to his side, but he remained close. “Have you been practising?”
“Duh, I couldn’t just mope around all day missing you.” Lance rolled his eyes. He was surprised at how easy it was to say that.
“You missed me, huh?” Keith arched an eyebrow; his smile showed no signs of shifting.
“I never said that,” replied Lance. Then, just as Keith parted his lips to say something in reply, Lance dived, grabbed Keith by the waist and shoved him into the place where he had be pressed against only moments ago. In his rush, he had forgotten to reach for his bayard; instead, he used his arm to keep Keith pinned to the wall. “I practised so I didn’t miss you.”
Their faces were closer than before without the two swords between them. Silence hung as they got their breath back. Lance raised his eyebrows, but quickly let them fall again. The air felt hot and dense, and Lance wasn’t so sure it was just because they had exerted themselves training. Keith’s fringe had fallen across his eyes; evidently, he hadn’t cut it at all since he had been away. He blew at it with a breathy exhale, but it fell back instantly. Without removing his arm from Keith’s chest, Lance pushed Keith’s hair back up his forehead with his free hand. Keith’s sweat worked like hair gel; he now sported the look of a boy band member from the 2000s. Lance spluttered out a laugh. It felt as though the barrier he had felt around Keith had weakened, at least for the moment, now that his image had been distorted and he resembled the messier version of Keith that Lance remembered.
“What?”
“I thought your mullet looked bad, but it’s nothing compared this.”
Keith narrowed his eyes, then shoved his elbow into Lance’s stomach. As Lance doubled-over, Keith seized his chance and hooked his arm around Lance’s neck into a headlock.
Lance clawed at Keith’s arm with his fingers, but couldn’t prise them off. He sighed loudly. Just as he was about to speak, Shiro’s voice called out for Keith in the hangar, saving Lance the embarrassment of admitting that he had lost in the final moments.
Keith released Lance from his grip and retrieved his sword from where it had clattered onto the floor. Moments ago, his expression had been playful, within Lance’s reach; now, a solemness had clouded his face, pulling him away again. His hair flopped lank against his forehead.
His jaw clenched, he waved briefly at Lance, then left following the direction of Shiro.
The next day, Shiro suggested they stop off at a planet to stretch their legs, and find a place to wash. The lions were big, but they had nothing on the Castle’s vast rooms and halls, nor the showers that they all desperately needed. Lance missed them already.
The planet they arrived at was small and quiet, something the Galra Empire would consider an easy target, yet there were no purple, fanged figures in sight. It was a lucky break, and Lance hoped it would continue as they travelled on. The planet’s sky had a pink hue, like the remaining embers of a sunset, except it lasted all day as far as Lance could tell. The air was sweet and free-moving. Lance breathed it in; it was unfamiliar like every other planet they had come to.
“We shan’t stay long,” Coran said, twirling the end of his moustache. “A doubache or two. Will that be sufficient for you all to… recharge, as you say?”
“Yes,” replied Keith, his wolf stood beside him with its tongue lolling in and out of its mouth. He patted it on the back and the two walked off to the west where there was a meadow with swaying flowers. Lance’s face twisted as he watched them leave.
Aside to Allura, Coran whispered, “Did you know humans have charging ports?”
“I’m afraid I did not.” Allura frowned. “Where would they be, I wonder?”
In a split second, Coran appeared over Lance’s shoulder, then between his right arm and torso.
“We don’t have charging ports! It’s just a figure of speech.” Lance slid out of the way of Coran’s port inspection with his arms across his chest.
Lance strolled toward the east; hills rolled upwards across the horizon and perhaps the climb would reward him with a worthwhile view. Allura fell into step beside him, but the others had wandered elsewhere.
Lance was surprised to find the hills grassy; it was thicker and more coarse than Earth’s grass, and the blades curled at the end like natural ringlets, but it was also green and waxy.
“What is Earth like?” Allura asked suddenly. They had walked nearly half way up the hill and both had been silent for the most part, aside from Allura’s occasional gasps and comments about the planet.
Lance tilted his head to face her; her eyes were wide and her ears twitched as she waited for his answer. Allura was still beautiful, nothing would change that, but now that she was looking directly at him, he noticed that his cheeks remained cool and his heart was continuing like it normally would.
“When the sun goes down, the sky looks like this too,” he started; most of his love for Earth came from his memories, but there were other things he loved too, and something tangible for Allura to imagine and expect was better for her. “I used to stare at it from my window, and sometimes it would be so red that it looked like the world was going to end, but it never did.”
“I wish I could say the same for Altea.” Lance startled for a second for what he had said before, but Allura smiled at him, if a little sadly, and continued, “It’s all right. I will hold onto my memories of Altea forever, but I must move on.”
Lance was unsure of what to say; Allura was no frail princess in need of saving, he knew that, but the Castle of Lions had been her home since she had awakened and learned her home planet was no more, but now that was gone, too. “We’ll make more memories, on Earth and everywhere. All of us.”
“Yes. We will.” Allura agreed.
When the reached the summit of the hill, Allura continued on, wanting to see more of the place before they left, leaving Lance to himself.
All around there were hills of a similar size to the one he and Allura had walked up, though there were a few with higher peaks and craggier edges. The sky had maintained its rosiness and there were wisps of pale blue clouds that glimmered like water and floated higher than the hills’ peaks.
Lance laid back and closed his eyes. He heard nothing but the sound of the wind blowing by his ears; it was oddly quiet without the consistent humming of his lion or someone’s voice coming through the communicator when he was trying to have a moment to himself. He wasn’t sure if he liked the silence. He had gotten so used to the others being a constant around him, that the space felt empty. That was why, when Keith had left the team to join the Blade of Marmora, things had felt amiss at Voltron.
Initially, the gap that Keith left hadn’t been too big of a deal. They had enough paladins for the lions, and that seemed to be the most important thing. But after a while, Lance had begun to notice it more and more. If he told a particularly good joke, he would look to see if Keith had gotten it, ready to explain it if he hadn’t. All he saw was the empty spot next to him where Keith would usually be. Sometimes, as he passed Keith’s room, he would consider knocking before remembering that he was not inside; he was somewhere out in space, with only his blade by his side.
Lance knew that Keith was familiar with being alone, but the thought still made him chew his lip until the skin peeled away. Keith was with the blades, he knew that, but he also knew that the blades weren’t exactly the bonding type.
Lance rested his arm across his face, covering his eyes. The light was bright here; they must be close to a sun.
Lance still missed Keith. He was back, but they were yet to have a proper conversation.
Rather suddenly, he realised that this… apprehension was what Lance had felt at the Garrison, before he and Keith were friends. Keith was one of, if not the most, skilled pilots and he knew Shiro; he was everything Lance wanted to be. They had been on mostly equal ground after they initially joined Voltron, but now the disparities between them were clear to Lance; he could barely keep up with him in training. The thought weighed heavy on his chest.
A shadow fell across Lance, pouring into the gaps between his arm and his face. Allura must want him for something else. “Allu-” As he lifted his arm, he did not see Allura standing over him. Instead, Keith stood, blocking the path of the sunlight. His hair was faintly greased and billowing lightly in the planet’s breeze. His wolf had already lain down on the ground with its nose twitching. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
Lance shuffled himself onto his elbows. “I thought you were Allura.”
The last person he had expected to see when he opened his eyes was Keith. Hunk maybe, Pidge was more unlikely, but definitely not Keith.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Keith sat down beside Lance and went to put his hand on the wolf’s head only to meet thin air. It moved to lay across the both of them, its head on Lance’s lap. Lance was a little surprised; he had pet the wolf a fair many times and tried to teach it a few dog tricks with no success, but it had never come to him on its own. He scratched its head between the ears, which it seemed to like.
“I’m not disappointed,” replied Lance, more to the wolf than to Keith. Keith reached to stroke the wolf down the length of its back; his arms were bare and goosebumps littered them.
Lance turned to Keith. “Where’s your jacket? It’s cold out here.”
“It, uh.” Keith dug his fingers into the wolf’s fur. “It doesn’t fit me anymore.”
Without thinking, Lance slipped off his own jacket and held it out to Keith. “Here. You can’t just sit out here in a t-shirt, what would we do if you caught a cold?”
Keith looked between Lance and the jacket, his eyes wide and startled like a cat watching dangled string. He took the jacket, then said, “Won’t you get cold now?”
Lance waved him off. “Nah, I’m wearing layers.”
Keith chewed the inside of his cheek, but he put his arms through the jacket anyway. It had been a little over-sized on Lance, so now it fit Keith fine. He tugged the sleeves over his hands to warm his fingers. Seeing Keith wearing his jacket was something Lance had not prepared for, much like seeing him older when he returned for the first time. He knew giving Keith the jacket would have these exact consequences, but now that he was seeing the consequences, he swallowed a gulp.
“You’ll have to buy a new one when we get home,” Lance said. “I’ll help you pick something that isn’t ugly.”
“My jacket isn’t ugly!”
“Right, and you’re not part galra.”
“Not comparable,” Keith grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted a little; the sight was a familiar one.
After a few silent moments, Keith’s expression softened again and he relaxed his arms. “It doesn’t feel real, that we’re going back to Earth. It’s been so long.”
Lance ran his hand down the wolf’s neck. “I know. I keep having these thoughts, like, what if my moms don’t like who I am now? I was only going to be a pilot, but now I’m right in the middle of a war.” Lance paused, then said, “I can’t wait to see them, but I know things will be different.”
“They’ll be happy to see you,” Keith reassured him.
“I hope so.”
“There isn’t much left for me on Earth,” Keith said suddenly. Lance let him talk. “My mom, I found her out here, but I don’t know if she’d want to stay there, after all this, after my dad’s gone. And Shiro - I don’t know what he wants to do.”
It hit Lance that it had been even longer since they left for Keith. Lance had always felt rooted to Earth and to his family, but Keith was scattered and drifting; the pieces of his family were like stars in different constellations.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, not yet.”
This answer irked Lance. “Well, you’ll figure it out. Since you’re all smart and.. “ - he gestured vaguely at Keith’s body - “like that, now.”
“Is that what you really think?” There was something like sadness in his voice, which Lance had not been expecting. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed, not in anger, but in confusion.
“You were gone two years, you said. I thought you’d have yourself all figured out by now. You act like it.”
“I don’t,” Keith said matter-of-factly. He turned to face Lance and splayed his hand on the ground between them. “Lance, I’m still me.”
Lance looked down at Keith’s hand; it was barely inches from his own. He wanted to move his hand closer, but it stuck like cement. He lifted his gaze back to Keith’s face. The slight purple hue of his eyes stood out brighter in this light. They were rarely this close to one another, but Lance recognised the sincerity in his expression; he had seen it before. It didn’t happen often, yet his mind had etched the image of Keith’s softness to his memory.
Underneath that heightened exterior, Keith was still the same boy he knew; longing for a family, for a home. Lance winced and felt almost stupid for letting the muscled arms, broader chest and stronger voice fog his view. Yes, Keith had grown, he had learnt things, but his insecurities hadn’t vanished. Keith hadn’t been the one throwing up a barrier between them, it had been him.
“I know that. I’m sorry.”
Keith hooked his hand beneath Lance’s, the movement smooth and sure. His palm was warm as Lance squeezed back. Lance’s mouth dried as Keith parted his fingers to slip his own between them. The wolf let out a sigh on Lance’s lap, and Lance smiled.
As they walked back to the lions and the rest of the team, Keith said, “I’d like to meet your family.” He said it so quietly that Lance wasn’t quite sure he’d heard him right.
“What?”
“Your moms, would it be okay if I met them?”
Lance pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, then said, “Only if you don’t wear an ugly jacket.”
“So I can’t wear yours, then?”
Lance raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I let you wear my jacket, out of the kindness of my heart-”
Keith rolled his eyes then took Lance’s hand again, which quieted him just fine.