Chapter Text
Whenever Lance came out to someone as bi, a common thing people said was that it was alright; that to them he was still the same.
At first Lance was incredibly relieved, most of his coming outs went much better than he had expected. Over time, however, he discovered that it did change things, in different ways. Some of his straight male friends suddenly behaved awkwardly around him in the locker room, or started making jokes to cope with how uncomfortable the situation made them. When Lance came out to his family, his mother said it too, that it didn't change anything, and while Lance knows she always has and always will love him, he still felt that his coming out created a gap between them he never seemed to be able to bridge.
It wasn't always like that, of course. Hunk didn't change his behaviour at all, and supported Lance as best as he could. Lance's siblings were very encouraging, and accepting, and overall Lance can say that he got pretty lucky.
When he and Keith came out to each other, it changed things in the best way possible. Suddenly there was someone aboard the Castle of Lions that Lance could talk to about these issues, someone who'd had similar experiences, who just got it. It came as such a relief. As much as Hunk tried and supported Lance, this was different.
In the weeks since then, he and Keith have grown closer. The unexpected side effect of discovering this shared life experience, was that the two began supporting each other in all sorts of ways. Keith began opening up about his past, and allowed Lance to be there and comfort him, unable to change what has already happened, but eager to listen and show his support now. Lance on the other hand lets Keith help him with his homesickness. Where he used to become closed off, angry, or simply withdrawn, he now goes to Keith, more often than not and lets himself be comforted. Their rivalry hasn't changed. Keith is still quiet, hot headed at times, awkward at others, and infuriatingly good at everything, and Lance, well, he's still himself. But he can't shake the feeling that they're changing each other for the better, even just a little bit.
The downside of discovering that your crush likes guys, is that you're constantly breaking your own heart by holding on to a last bit of hope, when you're certain they don't like you back.
Lance knows that lately Keith has been struggling with his identity. They've talked a little about Keith's experiences as a trans guy, and how he finds it difficult to express his gender with anything other than hyper masculinity. Even when Keith assures him he's okay, Lance can tell it's weighing on his mind. He catches Keith watching the other guys on the team, sometimes mirroring a posture or a gesture. He catches Keith watching him, when Lance does something that could be considered traditionally more "girly". He doesn't push it, even if he thinks that Keith spends way too much time in his own head.
Keith never brings it up again, and Lance can feel him pulling away. The way Keith is more quiet than usual and barely responds to Lance's banter, is making his stomach twist unpleasantly. In the end he figures that perhaps Keith could do with a little push after all.
"Hey, man," he smiles, letting himself into Keith's room, one slow afternoon. Keith is lying on his bed, scribbling something onto what seems to be a faded map, and while Lance is dying with curiosity about it, he decides it will have to wait.
Keith hums noncommittally, likely a little disgruntled by the intrusion.
He lets himself flop down at the foot of the bed. "You know you can talk to me, right?" Silence. "Like, I don't know, about how miserable you've been lately."
A strange look crosses Keith's face before he frowns. "I'm fine, Lance." He sits up next to him and stuffs his map under the bed.
"Alrighty!" Lance says cheerily. They sit in silence for a while. It's not unusual for them. Keith rarely talks much, and Lance whose thoughts are ever racing enjoys the quiet that somehow feels relaxing instead of unbearable. Keith has a way of making him feel more quiet, and it's so nice that it sometimes makes his chest hurt with how much he wants his calming presence around. Lance busies himself with labeling the pictures he took on his phone, so he can explain them better when he shows them to his family one day.
“It’s just that I’m not sure if this is what I want," Keith says finally, as if continuing a previous conversation, and Lance's fingers still, but he doesn't look up. "Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I transitioned. I’m just not sure that the way I present myself is what I actually want. You know, when you paint my nails, it feels like I let go a little. I’m holding on so tight to this idea of who I thought I wanted to be when I was 16 or 17. I’m not sure it fits me anymore.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I mean people change. You’re allowed to want different things,” Lance says thoughtfully, putting the phone down. “So then what do you want?”
“I don’t know,” Keith says, voice laced with frustration. They’re quiet for a while, Keith fidgeting with the zipper of his battered leather jacket. “Here’s the thing,” he says finally. “I know that gender can be fluid, or, or gender expression can be. I know that in theory. As long as it doesn’t concern me, personally. When it comes to my own gender the whole thing seems more black and white. At least it did until now. But now, I'm not so sure anymore.” The way he looks at Lance almost pleadingly, like he's afraid Lance will make fun of him, makes him want to reach out and hug him.
"So are you saying you're not sure you identify as a guy?" Lance asks carefully.
"No. I mean, I don't know. It's more like I'm losing sight of what being a guy even means. It's..." he runs a hand through his hair in frustration.
"It's okay, take it easy, buddy," Lance says trying to sound calming.
Keith takes a deep breath. "So, you know how you're kind of femme?"
"Yeah," Lance nods encouragingly.
"And you identify as a boy." Keith's gnaws on his bottom lip.
"A man even," Lance quips and gets a snort in response.
"It's like I'm holding myself up to this impossible standard. Being super buff, only wearing certain clothes, not allowing myself to do anything that could be seen as feminine and generally acting like one of those awful action heroes. I don't hold anyone else to that standard. I never questioned your masculinity, no matter how much of that glittery powder you wear on your face. But me, I limit myself so much." He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "For example, do you know how we have that flowery shower gel that smells really nice, and then the other one that doesn't have a scent? I only ever use that one, because my stupid brain won't allow me to be chill about this whole thing for one second and just use the one I like." The words come out like a flood, and while Keith himself looks surprised at the outpouring of emotion, Lance gets a sense of relief, that he got all of this out.
"Woah."
"I know, it's just small things, but..." Keith blushes
"Shut up, stuff like that is important," Lance interrupts him.
"Other people seem have this stuff all figured out. There was this older trans guy I knew, because he was a friend of Shiro's, and he seemed so comfortable in his own skin. And yeah, once I began transitioning, I felt so much better every day, but I still never felt as comfortable as him." He picks at his thumbnail.
"Dude, I'm by no means an expert, but I think that sort of thing just takes time. Like, for most of your life, you've had this body that didn't feel right. And you've only started looking and feeling like yourself relatively recently. You gotta give it more time."
Keith sighs. "Yeah, you're right. I forget that sometimes."
"Besides, everyone feels not-so-great about themselves a lot of the time. I know it's hard to believe, but even I doubt myself."
Keith rolls his eyes, but he's smiling weakly.
"Seriously, if there's one thing space has taught me, then it's that no one has it all figured out, and once you solve one problem, the next one is sure to come along. But, trust me, we've been through worse. I'm confident you'll figure it out." Lance gives him, what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Hey, maybe you should talk to Pidge about this. They totally know more about that stuff.”
Keith frowns. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” He swallows and nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Lance.” He goes back to fidgeting with his jacket.
It takes Lance a moment to catch on. “I mean, no!" Keith startles. "I mean," Lance struggles to come up with a coherent sentence, words shooting around in his brain. "You, don't have to. You can just talk to me instead."
"Lance, it's fine. I know this is all super weird, and you don't have to..."
"No, Keith, I meant, maybe we can talk to Pidge about this. I’m not trying to get rid of you.” He slings an arm around Keith's shoulders, and pulls him close, even though the other feels stiff in his embrace. “You’re right, this is all new to me. I’ve never had to deal with such conflicting feelings. I can’t really relate to you,” he shrugs. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
Keith relaxes a little and drops his head so his face is half buried in Lance’s chest, one arm coming around Lance’s waist and squeezing tight. “Thanks, Lance,” he mumbles. It just about kills Lance.
After a while Keith asks Lance if he feels like training with him, and Lance shrugs, so they end up going to the gym together, sparring until neither of them can move.
The next morning Lance tentatively asks, if Keith wants to talk to Pidge now, but only gets a non-committal “Later, maybe.” After that their days are a blur of fighting battles, saving planets and forging new alliances. Keith seems to throw himself into the war fully, with a focus Lance has always admired. His eyes glow with intensity, he keeps his sentences short to a minimum and generally kicks ass. Everything else seems to disappear for Keith when he is focused, and Lance has no idea how he does it, his own thoughts always a jumble, his attention flicking from one distraction to the next. Keeping his concentration is such an effort for Lance it exhausts him, and even though he is getting better, he knows it will always be a struggle.
After days of fighting and barely getting any rest, it’s becoming too much, his senses are overstimulated by the constant action. By the time the battles are won, another planet saved, he has reached the point where he can’t even rest anymore. He feels jittery from a fight nearly lost, and from being beyond exhausted.
They’re having to sit through Allura and Coran holding a diplomatic meeting with the planet’s officials, and he can’t seem to stop his leg from jiggling. He knows it’s annoying, but he can't sit still. Somehow it feels grounding, while setting everyone around him on edge. Hunk finally clamps a hand down on Lance’s knee, and that helps a little, until he gets used to the sensation and starts feeling antsy again. Keith watches him, a frown on his face, and Lance can’t tell if he’s actually annoyed, or if that is just his neutral expression. What he does know is that if he doesn’t get up from this stupid chair, and leave this stupid meeting, he’s going to explode. When it's finally over, he jumps up so fast everyone turns to stare at him, but he doesn’t care, he walks right out of the room, through the vast corridors of the parliament they’re currently in. He can tell that someone is following him, but he doesn’t turn around to see who. He doesn’t need to. Keith catches up with him, as he’s swinging open the doors of the ornate mint green building.
“Lance, where are you going?”
Lance holds the door open for him. “For a walk, I feel like exploring the planet we just saved. See those hills over there?” He points to three hills, all covered in thick purple plants, growing on jagged pink rock. “The locals said I should check it out.”
“Lance, we’ve barely slept or eaten in days, I don’t think a hike is a great idea right now.” They’ve come to a stop at bottom of the parliament’s stairs. The whole world is tinted orange from the setting sun. Lance refuses to let it make his heart ache for home.
“Oh, yeah? Since when are you Mr. Responsible?” he asks.
Keith glares at him. “Lance, you look like shit.” Lance is about to say something snarky, even mean in return, when Keith continues. “How about this: we return our lions to the castle, and if you still feel like walking after that, I’ll come with you to those stupid hills.”
“Fine,” Lance says snippily. Keith nods curtly, and they start making their way through the city to where they left the lions.
Lance severely misjudged how far they would have to walk. As they weave through the crowd of purple, and lavender coloured aliens, he feels more and more anxious. At one point he loses sight of Keith for a moment and panics so much that when he finds him again, he presses close to his side, too exhausted to feign nonchalance. Keith shoots him a worried glance, but Lance keeps his eyes ahead, trying to navigate the narrow streets. It’s too much, the colours, the people, the noise of traffic and aliens yelling in languages he doesn’t even begin to understand. Anxiety begins to constrict his throat and he struggles to catch his breath. He knows they’re almost at the lions now, but he can’t help the panic rising in his chest. Keith calls his name, but he can’t seem to respond. He thinks he’s going to spiral into a full blown panic attack, when suddenly Keith’s hand is in his. The skin contact shocks him enough for him to zero in on it, and focus on Keith pulling him through the crowd and towards the lions. He keeps his eyes on their joined hands and lets himself be led to Red. Keith turns to him.
“Are you good to fly, or do you want to ride with me?”
Lance shakes his head “I’m good. I just need to get out of here,” he says meekly, his breaths coming fast, his heart erratic. He’s grateful that Keith just nods, and leaves to board Black, instead of pointing out how Lance was going to "explore the planet" just minutes ago.
He climbs into Red and lets her do all the work, flying them back to the Castle of Lions. When they dock and he climbs back out, Keith is already there, helmet in his hands, his hair a sweaty mess and Lance almost cries with how good it feels to be back here with him. They don’t talk, taking off their armour, not bothering to clean it or put it into the proper cases. When they’re done, Keith takes Lance’s hand again leading them to Lance’s room. He doesn’t let go, until they’re at the door.
“You gonna get some sleep?” he asks.
Lance shakes his head. “I can’t. Not like this, I’m too”, he gesticulates, looking for the right words, “...hyped. Can we just hang out in your room?”
Oh god, he's being selfish, Keith is probably dead tired. "I mean, no, it's fine. You should get some rest."
"Sleep is for the weak," Keith smirks and Lance is so, so grateful to know him.
They flop down on Keith's bed, and the buzzing feeling in Lance's limbs is still there, but it's beginning to calm down. "Can I braid your hair?" he asks.
"Absolutely the fuck not," Keith grumbles, but it's without heat.
Lance sticks his tongue out at him, and he knows he's being bratty, but he's tired and his brain feels weird, and nothing is making any sense.
He lets himself slide down onto his side, and resists the urge to bury his nose in the blanket. Even like this Keith's scent is all around him, and it's comforting, even if it makes his heart ache a little.
"Mn, I think your bed is softer than mine," he mumbles.
Keith snorts. "All the beds are the same, genius."
"Oh yeah? Have you checked?" Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows, but since one is mushed against the sheets, the effect is slightly lost. Keith rolls his eyes, but he looks amused. "'S not fair," Lance goes on. The fatigue is really beginning to settle in now, keeping his eyes open is a struggle. "I have to test it though, sorry, I'm going to crash here tonight."
"Are you trying to get me to switch rooms with you?" Keith asks suspiciously. "Because, no way."
"Of course not, I'm graciously allowing you to stay."
"Thanks," Keith says wryly.
Lance looks up at him, through heavy eye lids. "Seriously, though, do you mind if I stay?" he asks. If Keith says no, he'll go without arguing. He's extremely tired, but he could very well drag himself to his own room. The thing is though that he doesn't want to. Keith's presence is grounding and calming, no matter how much they fight, and rile each other up, being around Keith makes him feel more focused. Any other night Lance would be able to tear himself away, would deny himself the comfort Keith provides, but after all the fighting, all the fear he needs it.
"Fine, stay. I'll just sleep in your room tonight," Keith says finally.
"What? No, just sleep here." Lance can't tell if it's the fatigue that's making him reckless, or if he feels bolder because the two have been growing closer lately, but he reaches out, and tugs Keith down to lie next to him. For a moment it feels like Keith is going to pull away, but then he relaxes and rolls over to face Lance. He opens his mouth to say something, before closing it again and shaking his head in exasperation. "What?" Lance asks, knowing he won't get a response.
"Nothing, shut up and sleep." Keith gets up again to turn off the light, while Lance climbs under the blanket and holds it up for Keith. They both turn to face away from each other, but the bed is too small to leave any space between them, their backs pressing together in comfortable warmth. Lance feels guilty for about two minutes, because Keith is willingly sharing his bed with him, not knowing that Lance maybe, definitely kind of likes him, before his exhaustion hits fully and he gives in to sleep.