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We are a good team.
The hand lying in his shakes, grip fragile, but sincere. Keith frowns—he’s worried, but he knows it’ll be alright. Although they all had trouble working together as a team until now, they managed to defeat a strong enemy by doing just that. He’s still not sure what to make of any of this—how they’re supposed to save the universe; if they even have the power to do it. But now, with everyone relatively safe, he knows he wants to try. For the first time, there’s no hostility between either of them, everyone’s willing to help each other, and it feels…
It feels like home.
He almost doesn’t dare think it, would never say it out loud. Everyone here besides Shiro is a stranger to him, and all of them have families, unlike himself. Still, though, he can’t shake off a familiar, long forgotten feeling of warmth.
“I’ll get you to a pod,” he offers quietly, wraps an arm around Lance and waits for confirmation. It might be the very first time they manage to talk to each other without any hard feelings, without any malice in either of their voices. Keith can’t help but think that he likes it, way better than fighting at least. The way Lance antagonizes him isn’t foreign to him in general—Keith knows what its like to be hated, despised—but it does bother him that he remembers nothing about their make-believe rivalry. More than that, he doesn’t even understand why it should be thing. They work way better as a team than as enemies.
“God, no one’s gonna let me live this down,” Lance replies weakly, lets go of Keith’s hand—unpleasantly, as the steady warmth leaves with it—then leans against him for support. “Pidgey will make fun of me for a week.”
Keith doesn’t know why she would—and from the looks of the rest of the team, neither of them are planning to say anything rude about what’s going on; all of them seem worried, if anything. He decides against arguing, though, because he knows how fast he and Lance can go from peaceful to angrily heated, and he’s not planning on risking it.
“Going up,” he says instead, hooks his free arm under Lance’s knees and lifts him up; he’s surprisingly light for his height, Keith notices, but doesn’t comment on it, just makes sure to not hurt him even more.
“Don’t drop me…Mullet,” Lance comments weakly, chuckles about his own stupid joke or whatever it is, and leans his head against Keith’s shoulder, eyes falling close. Keith saves himself the time of saying that he couldn’t if he wanted to, with how intensely Lance is clinging onto him, instead grabs his body a little tighter for reassurance, and starts moving.
“Can we get one of the pods ready?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. He watches Allura and Coran look at each other shortly, before the adviser nods and hurries ahead, Keith following close behind. He wonders…wonders why the lights feel even dimmer than they are, why every step is draining and painful. He remembers, faintly, what it is—the feeling swelling up in him, wrapping itself around his heart tightly. He knows because it’s the only thing he’s felt for a long time, but he’s never felt it for someone who is right there.
“What’re you…frownin’ for?”
Lance is staring up at him with a raised eyebrow and a cocky grin, but his lips are trembling and he can barely keep his eyes open. Keith knows. He knows, he knows, he knows—
“I’m worried about you,” he admits, causing Lance’s eyes to twitch. He obviously hasn’t expected such honesty, any sincerity between them. It’s like breaking a wall of safety, like turning something carefree into a harsh reality. It’s not what they’ve been before, because there never was a reason to, but after today, things will inevitably change.
“D-don’t say it like that.”
He grumbles, drops his head on Keith’s shoulder again, but grabs his shoulders a bit more tightly, relaxes in his arms. For how cool and full of himself he always pretends to be, he’s quite easily embarrassed, Keith finds, but doesn’t bring it up. If anything, he likes the fact that Lance can’t always pretend he’s too great for the world.
“You asked,” Keith settles with, tightens his grip around Lance and carries him the rest of the way in complete silence. He notices that no one follows them, and is honestly quite grateful for it. Just this once, he doesn’t need the presence of anyone else, because it would cause Lance to put his mask back up—cocky attitude, only so he could show off.
The change is good.
When they enter the cryopod room, Coran is already busy setting up one of the magnificent machines. Keith still isn’t entirely sure how they work, but to be honest he doesn’t care much either—as long as they help so Lance will be alright again, that’s the only thing that matters.
Speaking of him—
“You still with me, Lance?”
He hums instead of answering, forehead pressing against Keith’s collarbone, seemingly ready to fall asleep. That’s alright, though—the crypod is shining in a peaceful blue, humming its mechanical tones, ready to patch him up as if he wounds had never been there. At least, that’s what Keith hopes; it’s what Coran explained to them the pods can do.
“All ready, number four! Time to get number three patched up.”
“Heh.” Lance chuckles dryly, then coughs. “I’m taller than you.”
Keith rolls his eyes and lets him have it, because it’s not worth arguing about, especially right now. Besides, with a little fantasy, those words are more teasing than insulting, and that’s something he can definitely work with.
After this, things will have to change.
“We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!”
“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen.”
Keith feels insulted, can ’t believe what he’s hearing. He wants to say more, wants to argue and ask why it always has to be like this—but then he sees it: The soft shimmer of red on Lance’s cheek as he turns away, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Oh.
The cool guy attitude.
Keith sighs and shakes his head. For now, he guesses, it ’ll have to do.