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Keith is in awe.
No matter how many formal alien events the paladins have attended, Keith’s heart races just a little bit faster than it usually does whenever he looks at Lance.
Of course, Lance is beautiful. He always has been, even when the only thing he ever wanted to do was keep the stupid “rivalry” alive between them. Ugh. Keith was split between stabbing him in the arm and making out with that stupid stupid smirk of his. (Lately, it’s been the latter more frequently than usual.) At the most mundane times, like the time Lance was lifting a slice of fresh pizza, thanks to Hunk, as high as he could so the string of melty cheese would separate. He looked so stupid. This is a paladin of Voltron for crying out loud, and yet , Keith’s heart just swelled with-with-- emotion . It was at that sight that Keith’s heart had sighed in content and thought, “God, I love you.”
He froze mid-sentence and blinked several times (Hunk thought he poisoned Keith with some of the new pizza). At this thought, Keith was shocked. So, logically, he threw his Mamora blade at the melted cheese string while he leaving the room. Oh, he punched Lance on the way out too. Keith, then, proceeded to expel how he felt about this revelation of feeling feelings on to the Altean teenager setting of the Gladiator. Keith lost every time, but he was hoping something would happen to sway the gooshy feeling in his heart. It didn’t. Keith didn’t know it was even possible to feel so soft. Who knew that Keith would feel soft about something the paladin who wanted nothing more than to beat him in everything. Keith went back to his room sweaty, battered, and nauseatingly lighthearted for no apparent reason other from seeing that content starry-eyed look Lance had when he saw Hunk’s surprise for him. Keith didn’t get much sleep that night.
It has been several months since that day, and so far, Keith has done nothing but suffer.
The awareness of knowing why he suddenly stopped relentlessly teasing Lance and instead began to favor working out with him and talking about his family and all their wild adventures haunts him. When did he even fall in love? When did it happen? How did it happen? And, with Lance ? He’s a flirtatious man who takes trivial things too seriously and worries about everyone too much, like who gave Lance the right to be the one who always checked up on Keith on his sleepless nights? He’s an immature man who takes every opportunity to make something into a challenge, how can he be someone responsible for the universe’s safety?
Tonight is like any other formal alien event: Shiro, Coran, and Allura are the ones to interact with the leaders of this planet, and the rest of the paladins are encouraged to intermingle with the civilians.
The difference about tonight is that Keith’s secret may be found out by the worst possible person.
Keith has been lurking around by the dessert tables to sample all the foods. His tactic is to stuff his face with food in an attempt to deter aliens from asking him to dance. To Keith’s dismay, many aliens have asked him to dance this night, many more than his typical formal Voltron night. Keith is getting annoyed. If someone else came up to him when he had food in his mouth, so help hi-
“Heeeey buddy.” A modestly sparkled sleeve wraps around Keith’s shoulder and a familiar body leans against his side. Lance. (Keith almost chokes on his snack.) “So a little birdy told me that you’ve been denying every lovely alien that’s come your way! How cruel of you, Keith! Are you too good for them?” Lance turns them away from the snack table, so he can gesture to the lavish ballroom they stand in. He waves to an alien Keith just saw him dancing with. Why did Lance stop dancing mid-song? Lance always finishes the song while dancing with someone (“It’s what a gentleman would do, Keith, but you wouldn’t know”).
Keith evades most of Lance’s pokes and spins out of his arm. He reaches for another treat. “Who said I was even asked to dance?” Keith’s eyes slide up from the new pile of snacks in his hands to Lance. (Keith’s heart is begging to know if Lance was watching him throughout the night, but it’s so so so stupi-
“My last partner told me so.” Keith lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Said she was in a betting pool with her friends to see if any of them could snag a dance with the oh so angsty Red Paladin.” Lance plucks a snack out of Keith’s hands and places it on his tongue. Keith scowls, but Lance’s eyes go wide. “Oh! That’s delicious!” He reaches to take a few more from Keith’s hands.
“Wha-hey! The food’s right there!” Keith turns around so his back is to Lance, shielding the snacks. Keith’s elbow juts up to fight of Lance’s long arms. “Just,” Keith’s snacks are cupped in his hands and Lance’s arms are snaking around Keith to obtain the goods, “grab your own!” Keith somehow manages to hip check Lance.
Into the table. Correction: onto the table. Onto the snacks.
There’s a loud thud from Lance’s body, and a few crashes from the broken dishes that clatter to the floor. The table wobbles but thankfully remains standing. There are gasps. A stand of decorated, beautiful desserts are knocked off the table into a smaller alien. There’s a squeal. Delectable desserts litter the floor.
Keith’s eyes bulge at the scene. What the fuck, Lance? He focuses on Lance. Keith’s jaw drops. Lance’s utterly gorgeous outfit is covered in colorful dessert cream and jellies; there’s even some cream in his hair. Keith hates that Lance still looks just as amazing than before. Maybe even more so because mayhem is a good look on Lance. Keith’s heart fucking melts . And because Keith deals with his emotions in a healthy manner, Keith grips Lance by the lapels, yanks him up onto his feet, and whisks him off to the dancefloor away from the scene of the crime.
“Hey, Keith, buddy. Slow down. We should check on the little guy I nearly killed.” Lance looks over his shoulder to see the little alien on the ground rubbing his head. Hunk sweeps the little alien into his arms and before Keith can look over his shoulder, Hunk has already bolted to who knows where to give him a healing cookie.
Keith cringes. Oh man, maybe the hip check was a little bit too much. He looks over his shoulder. There’s no little alien anymore. He tugs Lance further onto the dancefloor. Sorry, little dude.
Keith stops once there’s no more open space. His abrupt stop caused Lance to stop within a hair's length behind Keith (Keith could feel Lance’s breath on his neck). A chill danced up Keith’s back. He turns around (oh that’s so much worse). Then, while looking at Lance all over again in awe, Keith realizes he’s still holding Lance’s hand. Keith drops it like a brick of lead.
“So uh, I almost killed that little alien, huh?” Lance awkwardly says (Keith hates it. He hates that he made it awkward (Keith internally screams)).
But thankfully, because of the slightest of pauses, a handsome alien immediately taps Lance’s shoulder, and Keith is saved from his embarrassment (but at the same time who dis). And before Lance can even respond to the alien, Keith blurts out, “I have to go. Sorry,” and pushes past Lance’s shoulder. Of course, Lance has someone else asking him to dance. He’s Lance, and he’s gorgeous and just amazing. Who wouldn’t ask to dance with him.
Keith brushes off the nonexistent dust off his hands and turns on his heel to power-thefrick-walk away. The moment after Keith thinks he’s far enough from the two, Lance grabs Keith’s wrists and whips him close to his chest. “Sorry, Yaniah, but I already have a partner for the song.” The alien looks very confused but shrugs and walks away.
Keith flails to get out of Lance’s hold, but the attempt is futile. “What,” flail, “are,” twist, “you,” tug, “doing!” Lance tightens his grip on Keith.
“What! Woah, chillax, Red. It’s just a dance.” Lance loosens his grip once Keith gives up on getting out of the position. Keith huffs, rolls his eyes, and meets Lance’s warm gaze. Lance smiles at Keith, aaaaand Keith switches his gaze to his feet.
Within moments, Keith steps on Lance’s foot. Lance, surprisingly, doesn’t say anything.
At the fifth time, however, Lance gasps, “You don’t know how to dance!”
Keith immediately tenses up and meets Lance’s eyes. “What?! Of course I know how to dance! Shut up!” Keith yells.
“Oh yeah?” Lance looks at Keith skeptically, tilting his chin up. “What dance are we dancing then, huh? Right now?” Lance raises an eyebrow.
Keith’s eyes crinkle up. “Whaa-what kind of dance are we dancing? What? We’re just dancin-”
“Wrong! Waltz! We’re waltzing , Keith!” Lance facepalms his face with their intertwined hands. Keith’s heart combusts. Lance returns their hands to the proper dancing position after his theatrics (the back of Keith’s hand is warm, so warm, from where it touched Lance’s forehead).
Keith makes a face at Lance’s exasperation. “I know . I was uh, I was testing you. Congrats, you know a dancing technique.”
Lance’s eyes bulge. “Dancing technique? It’s waltzing , Keith! Waltzing! ” Lance sighs. Keith’s face is still doing that thing where it twists into a sour face. “Did you never learn this during a prepubescent gym class?”
Keith looks away from Lance. Keith’s body tenses in a different way, like he’s trying to relax his body (Keith fails as his entire upper body is visibly tense). “No.” A pause. Keith’s gaze flicks back to Lance’s great, blue eyes (goddamnit). “ My school didn’t have it because it’s ridiculous! My school had real gym class with dodgeball and pull ups and kickball and soccer and handball and baseball an-”
“Okay, Kogane, we get it. You played with a lot of balls in middle school.” Lance smirks.
Keith shoots Lance a sharp gaze before rolling his eyes. “Whatever. So what if I don’t know how to dance? Big freaking deal.” Keith’s gaze focuses on a point just on the edge of Lance’s head and the distant background. He didn’t need to dance to defeat the Galra.
“Hey, don’t get all grumpy now. It’s not a big deal really. You’re still a kickass defender of the universe without possessing the knowledge of dancing. I think you’re fine to survive without it.” Keith relaxes, but then Lance gives him that smirk, that shit eating smirk. Keith frowns. “But! For diplomatic matters, you should learn how to at least box step. C’mon man. How can you be coordinated enough to cut down Galra robots while flipping and kicking and slashing and be unable to not step on my feet!”
Keith stomps on Lance’s foot. Lance grimaces. Keith says, “Oh, sorry. Did you mean like that? Or,” with a smirk of his own, “like this?” Keith gives an even harder stomp to Lance’s other foot.
“Quit it! To think I was going to offer to teach you how to dance!” Lance cries as he dodges Keith’s quick foot stomps.
Keith’s mid-air attack stops. He straightens up and looks at Lance skeptically. “You were, weren’t you? Uh huh.” He kicks Lance in the shin. “Stop making fun of me. I know I suck at dancing.”
“Hey, no. I meant it. I’ll teach you how to waltz,” a long step to the left, then right, “salsa,” quick steps forward and back, “tango,” Lance gives Keith a spin, and Keith can’t help but let out a wild laugh, “foxtrot,” smaller steps here and there, “and cha cha real smooth.” Lance winks before dipping Keith without warning (Keith hates to admit that he did, in fact, yelp). Lance smiles and pulls Keith back to his chest, even closer than before (Keith didn’t think that was possible).
Keith likes their clasped hands in between their chests, and for once, Keith listens to his heart.
“Okay. Teach me how to dance, Lance.”
“With pleasure.”