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Lance came to realize Keith was the primary problem. Or, solution, really, depending on the perspective, but from Lance's, he was pretty fucked either way.
He was long past the point of calling it stupid. It’d been like that, in the beginning, purely Keith’s dumb dreamy eyes and pretty face and stupidly hot bod, until Lance realized he liked him too much. Liked talking to him, getting him to laugh so the deep dimple on his left cheek made an appearance, asking him how his day was. They were finally friends. Sometimes Lance even called him by his first name. The (the small, practically molecular-sized part) part of Lance that didn’t miss him when he went off with the Blade was just glad he’d never acted on the way his chest tightened when Keith looked at him. It would’ve hurt more, right? To be even closer than they already were?
Right.
None of the months of silence and pushed-down loneliness prepared him for Keith to come back blazing. To come back and fight with them and lead just how Lance had told him he could.
Then Shiro. Then Earth.
Jesus, it was a lot. When the adrenaline from the battle and the happiness from the announcement started wearing off, the truth of it all planted itself in front of him so it was all he could look at.
Krolia had started a fire in the middle of the circle of their lions. She and Romelle were lying against Kosmo (which was finally decided upon after Keith begrudgingly said he'd just been calling him Wolfie up to this point, how could Lance not be absolutely lusting), listening intently as Pidge, Hunk, and Coran made an attempt at giving the gist of the past year. The last pit stop they’d left off at around the time they had first encountered Lotor, so now it was Keith’s decision to move out with the Blade.
Lance got up quietly. Hunk gave him a questioning look, mouthing You good? And Lance dismissed him with a whispered, “Knocking out.”
Kaltenecker was already dozing off in the lower level so Lance had the cockpit to himself. He’d made up a makeshift bed along the wall with his blanket and pillows but he sat down at the controls instead.
The lights brightened and dimmed.
You’re distressed.
Lance blew air out from his nose, tapping out on the armrest, “Nah. Just tired, girl, you don’t have to worry.”
I’m connected to you, Lance. In case you’ve forgotten.
Right, he hadn’t, but he was so skilled in suppressing his feelings, he thought maybe it could translate even on the astral scale.
Red gave him more of a nudge than words that time, a warm push at his shoulder.
He touched the spot and leaned back, kicking his feet up on the control panel. He shut his eyes. “It’s nothing too bad. Just boring, insignificant human stuff. I'm too wired. We’ve had a long day.”
She doesn’t do anything, then, but her presence is still surrounding him. It was kind of calming despite the fact his heart is threatening to break one of his ribs with the strength of its jackhammering.
Maybe calm down a little bit, bud?
Lance heard him outside, voice giving a familiar crack as he hastily tried to defend himself at Hunk’s accusation that he’d been hoarding sweets from other planets in his room. Lance silently bet on Hunk’s victory because 1) he was Hunk and 2) they’d tagged off the task of keeping Keith’s room clean and Lance had found the stash himself.
If Keith was out of Black, that meant Shiro must’ve been doing better. He hadn’t really left his brother’s side since getting him back, but when he wasn’t scowling because Shiro was telling him his stress was payback for the years of him having to tell Keith to calm down, there was this soft smile that settled on his face that made the spare spaces in Lance’s body feel like they were glowing.
Maybe Keith wasn’t entirely it. Keith was the center of it, what he meant, but it was—
A lot. A lot of feelings he’d never had for a boy—or girl, if he was being honest—and too little capacity to deal with it at the moment. The fact the boy was Keith of all people wasn’t helping his case. Like, in the slightest.
This really wasn’t the time to be having his sexuality crisis. And yet.
He needed to sleep it off. Get his priorities in order. Shiro was back, Lotor wasn’t an issue any more, and they were going home. That was important. Focus on the important things.
Lance made a low noise in his throat and crossed an arm over his chest, perching the other one on it to dig the knuckle of his index finger into the divot of stress between his eyebrows. Would it be super crazy to do a mask right now? Or was he really just that scrambled?
“I’m a piece of work,” he said out loud, pushing himself back to stare at the ceiling. Red kind of moved without actually doing it. “A full Monet. Frame me and put me up in the MoMA when we get back to Earth, please, I deserve it.”
“Hey.”
He jumped. If his legs weren’t hooked over the controls, he would’ve fallen out of his seat. Lance whirled and Shiro had his hand up apologetically. He had the decency to only be half-smiling. “Sorry. I should’ve said I was coming in but I thought Red would say something.”
Lance shook his head out, sitting properly despite how he was twisted so he could look Shiro in the face. “No it’s fine—uh. Hey. Yeah. She usually does.” He tapped the back of his seat then motioned around, “Or she should. But she likes to mess with me.”
Shiro nodded, eyes flickering around like he was trying to familiarize himself with the cockpit. He walked in more fully, his hand running along the wall. His hair was tinted pink with the wash of the lights and it kind of reminded Lance of when he saw him at Olkarion—
He looked away and fought the guilt back down into his stomach. There was nothing he could’ve done about it anyway.
Breathe. Respira, McClain.
“So, uh.” He considered standing but decided to let Shiro familiarize himself in peace for a little more. “Not that I don’t want you here, dude, but ‘s there any reason you came up?” When Shiro stayed quiet, Lance looked at him and was met with one of those patented expressions he and Keith could always pull off exclusively with their eyebrows. Lance pushed himself up so he was sitting on the armrest, pointing at him “Listen, you were resurrected a couple of days ago. Shouldn’t you be, like, I don’t know, resting or something? I don’t really think that’s something you can just bounce back from.”
I should know.
He wanted to glare at the thought. Now what we were not going to do was think of that right now.
Shiro grinned sheepishly, “I am resting. I’ve just been meaning to talk to you and we have the time today.”
Lance blinked. Oh.
His first thought was, Now why would you want to do that?
His second was, “You wanna… talk?”
Shiro nodded and leaned his hip against the console, hand supporting him up on a free spot. It was a very dad-like stance. Lance was pretty sure he’d seen it in most Gap catalogues. “I want to talk. If you’re up for it. I’m not gonna make you.” He made a face and shrugged one shoulder, “I mean, I might. A little. It’s been bugging me for a while.”
“Jeez, okay,” Lance rubbed at the back of his neck and dropped his hands into his lap. He pressed his fingers together and lifted his head cautiously, “About what?”
“You.” He paused a second before turning to half-sit instead, “How you saw me in the astral plane, when I was calling for help.”
A trickle of cold dribbled down Lance’s spine. Just the memory of it, standing in everything and nothing, and then Shiro, more real than Lance had seen him in months. Gone just like that. And Lance didn’t do shit.
He had to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat so he could get out a quiet, “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Shiro shut his mouth against whatever he was going to say next. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” Shiro stayed mute, staring at him. That was a mistake, because Lance’s big mouth took lack of interruption as a go to keep rolling. “For, um… for not being able to do anything. For not trying to, I mean, because I just. I feel like if I had, we would’ve realized sooner, and you would’ve been out—“ He literally couldn’t stop himself, all of it was sprinting out of him without his permission, “And—And there were so many times the team could’ve used you, but because I didn’t—I’m so sorry—“
Shiro’s hand on his shoulder and Red’s presence shut him up. His eyes were stinging. Was he crying? He brought his hand up to his face but it wasn’t wet.
That was too much. That was about the emotional equivalent of a villain monolouging his whole ass evil plan before getting his ass kicked.
You’re very distressed.
Yeah, thanks buddy.
“Lance,” careful, a practiced approach. Lance didn’t really want to meet his eye but he didn’t have many other options. They were searching his face like Veronica’s would when she knew he was hiding something.
This time it was for lack of anything better to say. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing you have to be sorry for,” he said, firmer. His hand tightened on his shoulder, “After everything Keith told me, there is absolutely nothing you have to apologize to me for doing. You did great, Lance.”
I left you in there, I forgot— I forgot—He kept his mouth closed. The shock of it was forcing him silent.
Shiro paused, grip softening before continuing, “I didn’t expect you to do anything. I didn’t even think you’d heard me. And I have all the memories from those months even if I wasn’t there, Lance, I can see how you tried to help the part of me that was here when he was struggling. You looked out for him, you looked out for the team, and you looked out for my brother when I couldn’t.
“If anybody should be sorry, it’s me. For how I treated you.” Lance’s eyes snapped up. Shiro’s were fittingly apologetic, steadily kind. It made him double down on how stupid they were for not noticing the clone wasn’t him. “Even if it wasn’t really me. You shouldn’t be brushed off like that. The only reason I could even get such a good connection with you on the plane was because of how strong your connection with Red is. How good a paladin you are.”
I agree with him in everything. God, you softy. You big, soft thing. You are great in yourself, Lance.
He was definitely crying now. It hurt less this time, because he didn’t hold it back.
Lance wiped at the tears roughly, covering his face with the same hand and hiccupping into it. Jesus, crying. In front of Shiro. Takashi Shirogane. Lance from two years ago, you have a big storm coming.
Shiro hugged him.
A goddamn hurricane.
They stayed like that until Lance calmed himself down enough to take his hand off his face, breathe deeply. He gave a weak laugh, “Welp. Thanks for the pep talk, dad. You really got me out of my funk there.”
Shiro pulled back, a divot between his eyebrows that was unnaturally Keith-like. Lance then internally smacked himself for even noticing. “Why am I a dad? What about me is dad-like?”
Lance snorted this time, genuinely, and motioned at him, “Dunno. Your everything is pretty daddy.”
Shiro wrinkled his nose, “Maybe say something else.”
“You’re right, that was bad.” He stuck his tongue in his cheek to think and put a finger up, “You’re fatherly. There ya go.”
“I always thought I was more like…” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, flapping his hand around, “An uncle, or something.”
“Coran is our space uncle, don’t trip,” Lance said immediately. Almost too fast, really, but it was the truth.
Shiro seemed to actually consider it before nodding thoughtfully, the universal sign of that’s fair. He crossed his arm over his chest, the side of his mouth lifting, “I’m serious, though, Lance. I’m proud of what you’ve done. I’m proud of you.”
Maybe when he died he really stayed dead. His childhood hero, proud of him. All he needed now was for Keith to waltz in and plant a wet one on him and he’d be good to go.
And as if summoned, there he was, laughing in that bright, raspy way that Lance had dreamed about without him there. It was the laugh Lance was always trying to get out of him when he poked around Keith like an annoying pigeon. A cute annoying pigeon, with good intentions, but annoying nether the less.
It went on for a hot second, until it was wheezing and Pidge joining in to make fun of him and Romelle genuinely asking if he was okay.
I love him, was the stark thought in his mind, bold white. And maybe he shouldn’t say it like that, skipping the first step altogether, but it was the feeling beating a shore under all his bones. It’d already been there, the same kind he had for all the people in his life, until it overflowed. Too much, too new. Too unimportant, in the grand scheme of it. Just another one of his stupid crushes with the volume turned up.
He squeezed the hand he had on the armrest to steady himself. Get a grip.
One emotional breakdown at a time.
“Hey,” Shiro nudged him with his elbow and Lance snapped back into the room, looking at him. Shiro was training that Big Sibling Terminator look back on him, searching his face like he could very well get into Lance’s thoughts just by squinting hard enough. “You zoned out. Is there anything else you need to talk about?"
Lance’s eyes went wide and he cut a hand through the air, “Nope. No. Nothing. Just—Uh. Brain fart.” He motioned around his head, “You know me. It’s just weird to get… To be… praised? I guess?” Shiro blinked. Lance pushed back so he was sitting properly in the chair again, putting on his most convincing smile, “Thanks, Shiro. Seriously. It’s been on my mind and it helps that I know… I mean, that you don’t blame me.”
“Of course,” he said slowly. Still full scan. Lance was weirdly inclined to make his mind go blank. Then Shiro stood straight, finally looking away through the window, “You don’t have to thank me, Lance. We’re a team. We’re here for each other. If there is anything else you want to talk about,” the side eye might’ve been worse than the full scan, “you can tell me. I might not be the team leader any more, but I’m here.”
It was a good proposition. It made sense. The words practically shoved their way onto the tip of his tongue, I like a boy, I like Keith, and they might’ve just gotten loose if Lance wasn’t so trained in internalizing them. Shutting himself up was knee jerk at this point. Even if…
Lance knew his smile was weak this time. He put his leg out to balance it on the dash, linking his hands together so he was pushing at his own thumbs. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Krolia’s voice rose up, muffled by the distance but obviously amused. Keith’s immediately followed, a clear, embarrassed, Hey, wait— before Hunk and Pidge were shouting over him. It made Lance want to go down and join in but he felt too much like a shaken bottle of Coke. Everything was surfacing, popped open and fizzing over.
“You should join ‘em,” Lance said quietly. “You’ve missed a lot.”
“Right,” Shiro responded. He didn’t move.
Stubborness is not a trait unique to my paladins, Lance. He wants to help.
Lance covered his scowl with his fingers, perching his chin on the heel of his hand, He doesn’t have to.
And yet.
And yet.
God, Lance wanted to speak.
Shiro shifted and Lance didn’t have to look to know he was starting to walk away. Lance shut his eyes.
The buzz of voices quieted down. After a beat of silence, there was a howl. It took Lance a second to register it as Keith before another one, an actual one, joined in. A bark of laughter before Romelle did it, then Coran.
Lance’s heart skipped a few beats.
Red’s lights dimmed. The words were strange, her voice overlaid on an echo of his own.
You should join them.
Keith’s howl died out first but restarted immediately. Kosmo followed suit.
“Shiro, what if—“ He kept his eyes closed. The footsteps stopped. The red of the cockpit was pushing through, hazing up his head. Get it out, McClain, no turning back. “There’s… I mean. There’s one thing.”
Pause. Lance didn’t breathe.
“Which is?”
He opened his eyes a crack. He could see the very top of the picture of he had stuck up on his dash. They were lined up in front of the Castle, arms around each other, caught mid-laugh. Even Keith, leaning into Shiro, his cheeks pushing his eyes closed. It was one of the first times Lance had seen Keith smile, much less laugh, and Picture-Lance showed it clearly, all his attention focused on him instead of the camera. They’d retaken the photo because Coran didn’t make it in completely after running from pressing the timer, but Lance had kept it for himself.
Lance crossed and uncrossed his arms. He put his foot back down. Shiro was back on his right, all that air of patience.
“What if I like boys?” It sounded too loud and he let his voice taper off, “What if I like boys, as much as I like girls? I mean, I know that’s a thing. I know what being bi is. But—I’ve never.” There’s a shot of adrenaline driving him off, the Mentos, the pop-off, only slightly dwindled by the fact Shiro hadn’t said anything. “Nobody knows. And I don’t know how to do it.”
He dared to glance over. There weren’t any red flags, no wide eyes or grimaces or— Shiro was just staring at him. It wasn't even Terminator this time. Just... thinking. Lance thought he saw a flicker of amusement before he spoke, that same shade of careful as before, "How to do what, Lance?"
"Like a boy," Lance said. Then he shook his head out, "No. No. What I mean is, like... Like a Boy. Capital B. One boy, a specific one. I just— This is the first time I'm even saying it out loud, I don't know how everybody would react, and I don't know how to deal with the fact that he... Everything feels so much more.... It feels like more. With him. Than a normal crush."
"Because he's a boy?"
Lance rubbed his hands over his biceps, focusing on the toes of his boots, "Maybe? I..." He squeezed his arms and splayed his fingers out, wincing, "I get this might be a little too, like, high school for you—"
"Lance," Lance looked up and Shiro rose an eyebrow, tilting his head, "I told you I would help you with anything. And this isn't just anything. This is you figuring yourself out, and I'll be the first to tell you, first and foremost, that being bisexual is valid, if that's what you choose to be."
The room's stifling energy broke. Lance thought the air might've been buzzing. Everything inside him was twinkling with the feeling. "Yeah," he said, the exhale taking all his worry with it. And it felt good. It felt like he was hearing his name out loud for the first time. "I'm bi. I'm sure I am."
"I mean, I believe you." Shiro crossed his arm over his chest, grinning, "It'd be hypocritical of me to say otherwise, right?"
Lance opened his mouth to respond before the shock of what that meant made him close it again with an audible clack of his teeth. His eyes widened. "What?"
Shiro blinked, "What?"
"Are you—" It was Lance's turn to look him over, like the clues could have been there all along (maybe the eyeliner, and maybe the hair), "Since when have you been bi?"
"Me?" Shiro pointed at himself before flapping his hand out, "No, wait, okay. I'm not bi. I'm gay."
"What?"
"Hasn't it come up before?"
"No!" Lance squawked.
"Oh." He hooked his hand over the back of his neck gingerly, "Well, I am. I thought that was why you were telling me."
Lance wagged his finger in the air, pushing up to sit on the edge of his seat, "Nope. Fake. I'm telling you because I trust and respect you as a person, but I was never aware of this before. I learned this at today years old."
"I guess it was never relevant to the situation," Shiro said and shrugged. "Now it is."
Lance stuck his tongue between his teeth and had to fight back a smile. He was aware nothing had changed externally. His eyes were still blue, Shiro's hair was still white, this was still the cockpit of his lion, his home, but it was different. The dread he'd carried in under his tongue was evaporating with every breath. "Huh. Go figure."
Shiro did smile, more a smirk and Lance immediately wished he could take the trust and respect part back because that was definitely Vero, it was wholeheartedly meddlesome. Shit. Lance wanted to go back to the serious talking soley to avoid it.
"So you like a boy."
It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Lance himself had figured it out.
"Yeah," he folded his feet back up on the chair, grateful the lights were already red because his ears were burning.
The smirk faded. Shiro glanced at the others through the window, profile strangely severe with the lights and shadows from the fire. Lance had the same strange feeling he'd had after Shiro first woke up, like even though he was fully aware it was the exact same body, it was different. Not quite as jarring, but it was a new light. An entire other piece of Shiro's person. Lance hadn't anticipated having someone to help him with this shit, especially not someone with some semblance of firsthand experience.
Shiro looked back at him, "Is it because he's the first guy you've liked?"
Lance's leg was starting to fall asleep. He pressed into the uncomfortable feeling at his knee when he answered, shaking his head slowly, "No. He's the first guy I've liked this much. Or, I mean, person. In general. I might... I call it love, sometimes. In my head."
Shiro nodded. His eyes shut briefly before he turned so he was facing Lance fully while still leaning on the console. "Yeah. Okay. Then I understand what you're feeling.
"It's kinda terrifying, right?" Shiro put his hand up, shoulders bumping up, "In my experience, it was pretty fucking terrifying."
"Yeah," Lance said quietly. The fact that Shiro had cursed didn't even faze him at this point. "Super fucking terrifying."
"The circumstances weren't the same for me," he rose an eyebrow bluntly, "obviously. But if you want my advice... Since we're talking about," he motioned outside, "Keith. Which is an entirely different conversation about your tastes, by the way, Lance, because I don't know how you can jump from Allura to my greasy little brother—"
Lance covered his face with both hands, letting out an explosive, "Oh my god, I swear I'm gonna have Red eject you," as Shiro started snickering. His foot reached out to knock at his shin on instinct and he didn't even regret it.
"Okay, okay, I'm serious." Shiro kicked at his leg back, pointing more firmly over his shoulder, "It's Keith, though. Just to make sure."
"Yes, Shiro, it's Keith." Lance flapped one hand out, "And you don't have to lecture me about my tastes, I got Blue kidnapped because of my tastes, man."
"I forgot about that."
"Re-forget, then."
"That's insensitive to say about someone with actual memory loss, Lance."
Lance unfolded himself from the chair to stand, wagging his finger at Shiro as he perched his elbows on the control panel. He almost considered daring Shiro to make a death joke just to fire back. "I can't believe I used to have a picture of you hung up in my room. You're a huge goddamn meme."
Shiro snorted, "You say it as an insult, yet I'm flattered. What picture?"
"Hey, Red, we're done here, ej—"
"Alright, I'm sorry. Back on track." Shiro still had a faint smile on his face, but the Dad Mode was settling on his face. The forming laugh lines around his eyes softened. "I'm not super qualified to give you advice on how to go about it since for me it was..."
His voice got all quiet. Like it was the first time he was saying the word in a long time, listening to an old song and relearning the lyrics, "Adam was the one who finally got it done." Lance looked at him. He had his eyes closed, head tilted up to the ceiling."We'd been friends for a long time at that point, but I was an awkward kid. He was one of my closest friends and I thought telling him would ruin everything, so I kept my mouth shut. I got to the point where I could wholeheartedly say I loved him, in my head or otherwise, but I still didn't say anything because of that fear. He was everything I wasn't and more and I thought he was out of my league." Shiro swallowed and opened his eyes, smiling at Lance ruefully, "He was. But he liked me back anyway. And I couldn't believe the fact that nobody was surprised when we did get together. I had friends in some classes who thought we'd already been together for a while. That was how bad it was."
Lance spoke before thinking and he cursed himself for choosing now to do so, "And you... What happened? With you guys? If I can ask."
Shiro expression went distant. Guarded. He rubbed at his neck, "Yeah, no, we... we were engaged, before Kerberos. Adam didn't want me to go but I was stubborn, so I kept pushing, I kept insisting I had to and he just couldn't go through that again. He said he wouldn't be waiting for me when I came back."
Lance was stunned silent. He felt like he had to pinch himself.
"We're talking about you, though," he dismissed and Lance had the wild thought that Shiro might have been wired a little bit like he was. He kept it in mind, filing it away for later. If SHiro wanted to talk, too. "Adam and I were stupid and nobody wanted to point it out to us." He met Lance's eye and pointed his head out toward the others. Lance could see the top of their heads, bowed toward each other, shoulders shaking as they laughed. "I'm gonna point it out to you. If the reason it's terrifying is because you think Keith won't accept the fact you like him, then you have nothing to be scared about. You can't pine for someone how he has for you without being an actual Christmas tree."
The image of Keith the Christmas tree made him laugh in an exhale. Shiro's words stick carefully, wiggling through every defense he'd put up against... against hoping. Letting himself believe it to be true. He bit at the inside of his cheek, poking at his tongue through his cheek, "That's... Even if he does. Like me. There's a lot going on, Shiro. This isn't super," he flips his hand out, "important, y'know? It's not pertinent to anything. He has enough on his plate leading us back to Earth."
"His being leader doesn't change the fact he's still Keith," Shiro bumped his elbow against Lance's arm. "If this is weighing you down, imagine how it must feel for him, with everything. I can't promise you that you guys can successfully start working on a relationship right this second. But I can say it'll feel good to get it out. Just so both of you are on the same page."
And in theory, that sounded pretty great. Just the thought of finally getting it off his chest made him want to bolt out and do it, even if Shiro was wrong and Keith actually thought Lance was Big Gross and never spoke to him again. It'd been building up so carefully inside him, brick by stupid, pining brick, that now that Lance had taken one out and given it to Shiro, it was wobbling. His resolve really wasn't equipped for hoping with Keith. It was never a thing.
Keith looked up. His eyes searched between Red's, looking back and forth between them before stopping. He couldn't see through them, obviously, but Lance could still feel it as if they were mere inches away from each other. The fire threw his face in all kinds of light and he almost didn't look real.
"And you... How can you be sure he—" Lance motioned between the window and himself, Keith's face ripping back down to bite back at Hunk, face darkening, and Hunk fell back on Pidge as he giggled. Keith's eyes flickered back up briefly.
"Reciprocates?" Shiro supplied.
Lance nodded wordlessly.
He moved so they were in the same position, back with that unnerving eye contact. Please take a break, Schwarzenegger. Lance suddenly got why Keith bolted whenever Shiro was prowling around the Castle to talk to him, "Lance. I know this might be hard to believe, but you're a likable person. You're a great person. Didn't I just say that? You don't have to do it. But I know Keith and if it's him reacting badly you're worrying about," he put his hand on Lance's shoulder, "don't. Give yourself a little credit. You have to remember he's still Keith."
When Keith came back, brushing past Lance in his hurry to talk about Lotor, hair longer and jaw sharper and a few inches taller (though still not taller than Lance, he would die on that hill) and Lance had thought, Maybe he's outgrown us. What were petty rivalries and dumb nicknames to this older, Galra-minted version of him? Probably nothing. Probably a distant memory, right, it'd been two years.
Then they were organizing to start the road trip and Lance had made an offhanded comment about being the first to finish sorting his boxes and Keith had said, "Bet," with a smirk and those same gorgeous eyes and Lance's heart might've completely dropped out of his body. It might've been Keith, beating softly in the light of that barren moon and Lance fell again, harder than before.
Lance knew he was still Keith. Just Keith.
Mierrda, am I considering this? Am I actually thinking about it?
"You make a fair point," Lance said faintly. It was a very, very fair point. It made Lance feel even stupider before because at the gut of it, it was simple. "I guess... I guess I'll think on it."
Shiro grinned. He thumped Lance's back and crossed his arm in front of him to stand straight (though that wasn't entirely accurate at this point, right?). "We have time. There's still a long way to go for Earth."
Earth. God, he'd have to tell Vero first. Luis had always joked about the fact that all they needed to be more alike was for Lance to be gay too. The McClains were gonna have a fit.
"Yeah, there is." Lance nodded, putting his hands on his hips and straightening up too (definitely not accurate). "Jesus. I think you just rearranged my life in, like, five minutes."
"Hey, you asked me. That was my take."
"It was a very hot take," Lance said and drummed his fingers where they were resting. He could almost feel his brain churning inside his skull but in, like, a good way, if there was such a thing.
"You good?"
The smile on his face came unbidden and he didn't even try to tamp it down. He realized he'd been fixated on Blue, positioned right in front of Red, and even if his connection with her wasn't as strong as before, he felt a pang of her familiar cool-edged presence. A trick of the way his adrenaline was pumping, probably, but it just made him happier.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm great, Shiro. Thank you."
When he looked over, the side of Shiro's mouth was lifting, "So. You think you're up for coming down with me to join the others?"
Lance turned on his heel, already heading toward the cockpit door, "Definitely. I feel like I drank too much coffee. There's no way I'm gonna be able to sleep right now."
Shiro hummed and went on ahead.
Lance only ended up thinking of doing it when they got to the exit, putting his hand on Shiro’s arm to stop him, “And, uh, hey.” Shiro glanced back at him. Lance could by no means recreate the Terminator look but he put every ounce of sincerity he could muster behind his words, “If you ever need to talk about anything either... I don’t have your supernatural ability to make sense, but I can try.”
Shiro blinked. Lance thought for a second maybe his shit was a lot heavier compared to Lance’s and he might not want to share. Was it overstepping? Should he attempt to swallow the words back out of the air?
Kosmo barked right outside the door. And Shiro’s face split into a softer smile than before, nodding, “Okay. I might take you up on that.”
Lance beamed back, dropping his hand and holding back from wiping it on his thigh because he had his suit on, “Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”
“Not right now though. I promised Krolia I would tell her about what Keith was like when he was younger and I can sense that he’s being made fun out there, so I think it’s the perfect time to add on.”
Lance flattened his hand on the panel to open the doors, jumping through, “Jesus, yeah, lead with that next time, dude!”