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Keith stares at Lance in dawning horror, the fracture in his heart splitting wider.
“I’m not leaving you behind.”
Lance smiles, soft and resigned, assault rifle cradled in his arms. The light from the portal casts flickers and ripples across his face and it’s unfair that even now, he’s beautiful.
“Someone has to make sure the portal collapses once you’re all through.” His expression is fond and it hits Keith all at once that Lance has already made up his mind, has already decided this is what’s happening and he can’t accept that. Before he can say anything Pidge interrupts.
“We can throw the bomb back once we’re all out!” they argue, clutching the explosives to their chest as if to protect it or Lance from what he insists on doing. Lance shakes his head.
“The portal is one way. You know that better than anyone Pidge,” he says gently. “Matter only goes through in one direction. The bomb has to be detonated from this side after you’re all through. It’s the only way.”
Keith is dying. This can’t be happening. He finally, finally figures out how he feels about Lance and now he’s never going to get to tell him.
“Besides, there’s a small window after it blows that’ll give me time to get back.” Lance tries to smile but it’s brittle. Pidge is ashen. They know exactly how small that window is and how very unlikely it is Lance will make it back in time.
Keith takes a step forward, little white pinpricks bursting in his eyes, making it hard to see. The movement catches Lance’s attention, drawing his eyes back to Keith. Keith isn’t sure he’s breathing. Can’t draw a breath past the vice on his chest.
“I can’t-” He chokes on all the things he wants to say but never got the chance to. And now he can’t get them out. There’s no time.
So his brain settles on something simple and direct and the only thing in this moment he wants.
His dark eyes catch Lance’s and hold on desperately as the world breaks apart around him.
“I never got to kiss you,” he rasps. That reality is dragging him down and he’s drowning in it. Keith doesn’t want to live in a world where he never gets to kiss Lance.
Determination grips him through the heartache. He can’t and won’t leave until he has.
Lance’s eyes widen, searching Keith’s face, taking in everything Keith knows is written so openly there, all the things he thinks and feels and wants, the way he’s leaning in towards Lance, desperate and wanting.
He sees the moment Lance’s heart breaks as he realizes what Keith isn’t saying.
Lance lowers his blue bayard, collapsing it into its holster in a flicker of light and Keith feels his heart tremble in his chest like a death rattle. Lance reaches up and pulls off his helmet in what feels like slow motion, letting it fall to the ground in a clatter Keith doesn’t hear. It’s not like Lance is going to need it anymore.
His hair is sweaty and curling, all mussed from the helmet, and his eyes are glassy when they meet; and he’s still so damn beautiful.
There’s a weight to his gaze, posture and expression open, inviting, and Keith’s heart lurches.
“I’m still here,” Lance whispers. And Keith is desperate and afraid and he wants.
He closes the distance between them, tearing the helmet from his head like he’s suffocating, all but throwing it aside as he lunges forward, yanking Lance into him.
He crashes their mouths together in a clatter of teeth, hard enough to bruise and Lance makes a pained noise but doesn’t pull away. He presses into Keith, turning to fit them better together, one hand cradling the back of Keith’s head, changing the angle.
All the fire and burning inside of Keith melts the moment they kiss and Keith realizes just how much power Lance has over him, how much he cares because he just goes weak. He melts under Lance’s hands, his tenderness soothing the desperation and pain burning in Keith, the flames that nothing else will quench. He groans.
Lance’s arms circle around Keith’s lower back, pulling, hungry, wanting, the force of him bowing Keith back, forcing him to bend and give under the pressure until Lance is the only thing holding him up. Keith’s back protests the angle but he’s unwilling to pull away to ease the discomfort.
Lance’s teeth sink into his lip, fingers curling painfully in Keith’s dark hair and Keith tilts his head, running his tongue over Lance’s lips, giving permission. Lance’s mouth opens against his own, their tongues sliding together hotly. Someone whines and Lance’s fingers tighten in Keith’s hair.
Lance kisses him like he’s been thinking of doing it for years and everything in Keith aches at the heat of it, the potential. Potential he’ll never get to see and the kiss turns bitter.
Neither of them really pull away when they need breath, leaning into one another and gasping, still pressed close. Keith keeps his eyes squeezed shut as they lean into one another, exchanging breaths when the kiss breaks. Keith knows his mouth is open in a silent scream against Lance’s, his face twisted in agony.
Lance is panting against his mouth, his grip on Keith gentling until they’re both standing upright again, chest to chest. One of Lance’s hands smooths over Keith’s hair petting and soothing, the touch filled with regret.
“Think I’m in love with you Samurai,” Lance whispers against his lips and Keith cries, his forehead pressed to Lance’s.
“Please don’t ask me to do this,” he begs, fingers curling over Lance’s armor. He’s lost so many people he loves already, he can’t do it again. Not now, not when it’s still so new and fresh and raw. Like a blister that’s finally burst but hasn’t begun to heal.
Lance’s hand finds his cheek and he kisses Keith again, soft and kind and sorry, fingers toying with the ends of his hair.
“I’m not asking,” he whispers.
Keith’s hands curl against Lance’s armor, unable to find purchase.
“Please don’t do this.”
Lance’s free hand palms the side of Keith’s waist, sliding around to the vulnerable spot of his lower back, holding him close.
“The team doesn’t need me,” Lance reasons softly, still pressed as closely to Keith as he can be. “Blue is the most flexible of the lions. It’ll be easier to find her a new paladin than any of the others if I don’t make it back,” he rationalizes. “We can’t afford to lose anyone else.”
Keith yanks away from Lance, catching him by the belt. He’s furious.
“Fuck the team!” he snarls. “What about me!” His eyes are wide and desperate and dark. He searches Lance’s eyes, terror lodging in his throat. “I can’t- Lance I can’t do this without you,” he gasps. “I don’t know how to do this, how to be the leader Shiro is so adamant into making me.” He sounds afraid, like the stability he’s always relied on is giving way beneath him and Keith is falling.
Lance cups his face in his hands, kissing him with so much love and tenderness it just makes the wound in his heart worse, more tears slipping down his cheek.
“You’re gonna be fine.” He pets Keith's hair back from his face, trying to press all the faith and belief he has in Keith into his skin through his fingers.
“You are so very capable Keith. You always were,” he whispers. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“Neither are you,” Keith snaps. Tears are thick in his voice. Lance can feel the hand on his belt shaking.
“We have to go,” Pidge whispers, eyes averted, trying to give them privacy. Lance can hear the pounding of feet in the hall behind him, getting closer. He extends a hand for the bomb, eyes never leaving Keith’s. Pidge passes it over after a moment and Lance slings it across his shoulder. He pulls off the necklace he always wears with the little silver ring on it.
“My brother’s wife was pregnant when we left Earth,” he explains softly. “This is a gift for my new niefling when we get back.” He drops the necklace over Keith’s head, tucking it under the collar of his suit, pressing his fingers over the material.
“Hold on to it for me? I’ll be back to take it off your hands.” And if he isn’t, at least the ring will still make it to them, one way or another and they’ll know their tio loves them very much.
Keith’s hand is still on Lance’s belt, holding him there, swallowing back all the things he still needs to say.
“You better make it through that portal,” he orders, grip tightening, giving Lance a brief shake.
Lance tips his head, brushing their noses together in a long slow slide, kissing Keith’s forehead. He grins, the sharp edge of a tooth behind it, the challenging spark Keith knows he loves flickering to life in his eyes.
“Or what?” he teases, hands wandering down Keith’s arms before dropping to his waist.
Keith pulls back to look him dead in the eye. “Or I’m ripping apart the very fabric of time and space to get you back,” he threatens.
The heavy weight to his voice leaves no doubt in Lance’s mind that he would. He knows Keith can do anything he sets his mind to. If anyone were able to unravel the threads of the universe it would be him and it makes Lance’s stomach bottom out.
“And Pidge will help me,” he says darkly. Lance flicks a look at them and Pidge nods gravely.
“Don’t want to be responsible for the unraveling of the entire universe now do you?” He can hear the tears in their voice too, their amber eyes wide behind their glasses.
Lance tries to smile but his knees are turning soft. “Guess not.” His voice comes out thicker than he intends. He never was very good at goodbyes.
Keith grips his chin, yanking Lance’s head back around and kisses him hard. The fingers on his chin are bruising, the taste of Keith’s tongue in his mouth leaving him weak. Keith’s hands are shaking and Lance can feel his resolve crumbling. He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back tears when Keith finally releases him.
“I can’t do this if you don’t go,” he pleads, forehead resting against Keith’s, voice wrecked. Keith can feel Lance’s tears on his own cheeks.
“Come back to me,” he whispers against Lance’s mouth, finally pulling away. Lance doesn’t answer him, just steps away, putting distance between them and Keith’s hand on his belt falls.
“Go.” He turns his back to the portal as the Galra arrive, laser fire peppering and angry shouts filling the hall in a burst of sound. They’re out of time.
Lance’s shield flicks up, deflecting shots and protecting Pidge and Keith both, the bomb still draped over his shoulder.
“Go!”
He doesn’t see if Keith hesitates, doesn’t see him make it through the portal, just trusts that he does and that Pidge is with him. He doesn’t look back because he knows if he does he’ll never be able to do what needs to be done.
He returns fire, stray shots ricocheting across his armor as he protects the bomb, hoping a stray blast doesn’t accidentally clip the explosive, ending it all right here. He counts for three seconds, giving Keith and Pidge time to arrive back on the ship as he arms the bomb, careful to stay in front of the line Pidge had marked on the floor with their katar.
Any further back and the device would detonate prematurely. Something about the energy being given off by the portal and frequencies and things Lance doesn’t understand and hadn’t tried to. Cross line, bomb go boom, that’s all he needed to know.
He hurls the explosive into the sea of Galra and runs. Please be enough time.
The timing has to be perfect. The explosive will leave only the smallest window of opportunity for him to get back before the portal is destroyed, permanently cutting him off from the ship. He could come out in space or not at all, his energy left to dissipate inside the wormhole or trapped inside it forever. He doesn’t know which option is worse.
The blast from the explosive hurls him through the portal just as it begins to flicker, threatening to sever the connection and Lance knows he only has a few precious ticks to make it before the portal collapses for good.
He runs.
A laser blast clips him on the way through, the Galra shouting behind him and lunging forward to follow as he disappears through the portal. Lance can hear the shots peppering the walls and floor as he tumbles out onto the bridge with a scream a breath later. Shouts of surprise erupt from the Paladins who are all clustered around the portal, not expecting the sudden laser fire and scramble back to avoid being hit.
The wormhole is destabilizing behind him in bursts of static and light, stray fire and shrapnel from the explosion coming through as Lance rolls, bringing up his bayard automatically. He drops one shot straight into the chest of the officer who’d managed to follow him through, still lying on the floor.
The Glara hits the ground in a heavy pile, dead eyes still wide. The portal blinks out behind him, a severed arm dropping to the floor from another Galra, ending his arrival prematurely.
Lance flops back to the ground, chest heaving, his bayard clattering against the floor as his brain tries to catch up to the last thirty seconds.
“Lance?”
Lance tips his head back so he can see behind him and grins, adrenaline leaving him jittery.
“Hey guys.”
Pidge is staring at him, tear tracks down their soot-stained cheeks, hands clutched to their chest. Hunk is standing just behind them, wide hands on their shoulders.
“Do you have any idea what the odds of that were?” Pidge breathes. They stare numbly at the portal before looking back at Lance as if unable to come to terms with him really being there.
Lance grins like an idiot, he can’t help it. “Never tell me the odds.” He’s giddy on adrenaline and can’t help the giggle that spills out of him, high and tittering
Pidge looks ready to kick him in the head, a dark scowl on their face.
“You wouldn’t understand them if I did.” They sniffle and scrub a hand over their face, dropping down to give him a hug.
“I hate you,” they cry into his shoulder and Lance pats them on the back. Pidge tucks their face against his neck and whispers, “never do that again.” They squeeze him so tightly Lance is afraid he’ll crack a rib. “You’re not replaceable. We need you.”
Lance wraps an arm around them and holds on tight. “I know Pidge, I know.” They sniffle and pull away, wiping at their face again.
Lance rolls onto his side with a hiss and Keith sinks to the ground next to him as Pidge moves away, giving them space. Keith helps him sit up. He looks as ashen as Pidge.
Lance is struck with the stupidest sense of deja vu that he laughs.
“Oh, isn’t this familiar.” His eyes are bright with fear and adrenaline. He’d almost died. His hand is shaking in Keith’s.
“You gonna cradle me in your arms again?” he teases because humor is the only defense Lance has.
Keith sees the terror behind the joke and pulls Lance into a hug, tucking his face against Lance’s neck, just as frightened and relieved.
“You better remember this time,” he says wetly. Lance holds him tighter, breath shuddering out of him, wrapping his arm around Keith, savoring the warmth of him, the smell of his skin and his hair.
“Didn’t forget the first time,” he admits, pulling him closer.
Keith grips him more tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head. “Remind me to be mad about that later,” he mutters.
Lance nods, beginning to cry as the adrenaline leaves him shaking. “Okay.”
Keith pets his hair, sitting back to chase away Lance’s tears. “You made it back.” He says it like he can’t quite believe it.
“You did threaten to rip apart time and space if I didn’t.” Lance laughs, scrubbing the heel of a hand over his cheeks, chasing away the tears.
“I meant it,” Keith says, his voice heavy.
Lance meets his gaze, expression sobering. “I know.”
Keith cradles his face for a moment before pressing a kiss to his lips, just holding him.
Lance is more than happy to stay there forever but the laser burn in his back is beginning to make itself known.
“Think you can help me to the medbay? I may have taken a shot or two on the way back.”
Instead of helping him stand Keith scoops him up in his arms, hefting Lance’s weight and he flushes.
“I can walk you know!”
Keith kisses his temple, his grip on Lance tightening. “If you think I’m letting you out of my arms or my sight for the foreseeable future you’re wrong.”
Lance scowls but his face is a deep red, his fingers idly catching along the edge of Keith’s armor.
“Why don’t you just marry me then,” he jokes. Because Lance has always used humor to deflect.
“Give me a year and I might,” Keith throws back, already marching from the room, a flustered Lance in his arms.
And well, Lance doesn’t know what to do with that.
“Oh my god, you actually found a way to shut him up,” Pidge gasps, jogging alongside them and snapping a picture.
“Shut up Gremlin,” Lance snaps, hiding against Keith’s shoulder.
“Quick Keith, kiss him again, it’s the only other way to make him be quiet.” Pidge grins, camera still out.
Lance is ready to argue but Keith is shifting his weight in his arms to effectively kiss Lance and really, that’s not playing fair.