Archive of Our Own ^beta

Four hours after Keith leaves, Lance is still a ghost in his wake; there in his arms, lips against his, their contented sighs echoing in his mind. He flicks through the screen before him, studying plans and papers needed for their next mission. A simple request from a planet not too far away. Easy, routine by this point. But his heart and mind are still on Earth, so the letters merge nonsensically; just scratches without meaning.

He sighs again, puts down the screen and leans back in the uncomfortable standard issue plastic type chair, stretching his back as he does. For a moment he’s tempted to trace his fingers across his lips, feel any sparks and remnants of the kiss, but dismisses the idea with a faint blush no one is there to see. That’s ridiculous, love sick behaviour and Keith will not give in.

No matter how love sick he may be.

As with most of Keith’s ideas during his life so far, this wasn’t methodically planned out. In fact, this time it hadn’t even been his idea, he has Shiro to blame for inciting his reckless behaviour. So he’d parted with Lance after time caught up, forcing himself to leave to make his deadline and here he is. Lips bruised from kissing, heart soaring from confession, mind reeling from acceptance.

And a gaping hole in the ‘what does this mean and what do I do now’ section of his mind. There hadn’t exactly been much time for talking. Or well, there might of been but they sacrificed that for kissing and trading jabs because they were Keith and Lance, and their foundations are built on taunting and testing one another. Therefore he’s reveling in the changes but the promise of more to think about and do is creeping in, bringing with it a flurry of worry and concern.

For now though, Keith pushes that back, and is determined to just cover himself in the joy of this part, of these moments that after so many years living under his skin he honestly wasn’t sure would ever be brought to life. He also has work he needs to do, and although this stint is all at the Blade base preparing and planning, it is still an important aspect of what they do, deserving his full attention.

Keith swings himself forward and out of the chair, locking down the screen and taking it with him as he leaves the room. If reading isn’t working now, he’ll have to be around others, get lost in doing something to help focus his mind.

He opens the door and walks out only to find his team hovering in the doorway; Ezor almost vibrating with excitement, Zethrid managing to look both amused and bored at the same time and Acxa looking half apologetic half knowing, smile on her face.

Keith groans and pushes past them because it’s only been 4 hours. Ezor catches him though.

“I’m so happy for you!” she shrieks, pulling him into a ridiculously tight hug, voice echoing around the wide room, several people turning to stare in their direction. Keith stiffens, still after all this time not completely accustom to random affection, and tries to unclench as soon as he notices.

Zethrid pries her girlfriend off him after a moment, only to clap him roughly on the back.

“Finally,” is the response from her, although it’s given with a smile. Keith glares at them.

“How do you even know?” he asks. The two shift their gazes towards Acxa who raises an eyebrow.

“You dramatically fly to his home unannounced, then kiss him in public and you expect people not to know?” she says.

Keith closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Veronica,” he states.

“She was home,” Acxa answers and Keith sort of feels like screaming and isn’t entirely sure why. It’s too much of a build up, the public scrutiny of their blossoming...change of circumstance not something he has accounted for.

Not that it matters, he isn’t ashamed. On the contrary, part of him wants to yell ‘I kissed Lance McClain!’ from the top of his lungs on every planet he lands on from now until eternity, and it’s that irrational, buzzing part of his mind which scares him. He is still unsure of what this is, what is happening and how to deal with it. Dealing with other people’s opinions and thoughts is another battle entirely when he’s still coming to terms with his own.

He opens his eyes and all three are still looking at him; it’s plain to see the general happiness though. They care, a lot, and up until now he hadn’t realised his feelings for Lance have been so obvious for them all to be this excited on his behalf.

“Now you’ll actually have to take your leave and stop hanging around here between missions. You have a boyfriend to go visit!” Ezor says, bouncing twice in excitement at the prospect.

Keith feels his expression falter at the word ‘boyfriend’ and of course it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What?” Zethrid asks and Acxa’s face morphs into a look of concern.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Keith mutters, turning to look anywhere but them.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Ezor replies, and out of the corner of his eye he sees her and Zethrid exchange a look. It reminds him of Shiro and Curtis, and he is surrounded by these type of people, where did he find so many of them?

There is a moment of silence and when Keith turns back to the group, Acxa is giving him a pained look.

“Are you saying you had time in the 40 minutes you were gone to kiss him but not actually ask him to be your boyfriend?” Zethrid states bluntly.

Keith turns scarlet and splutters once, which causes Acxa to sigh and shake her head, Zethrid to howl with laughter and Ezor to look completely horrified.

“Keith! Come on, really?” Acxa says in exasperation.

“I’m not even surprised. Well, at least you had the romance factor right with the spontaneous visit!” Ezor says, trying to cling onto something, but Keith has to break that bubble.

“It was Shiro’s idea,” he confesses.

The three just stand there for a second and Keith huffs in exasperation.

“Okay, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is all very new,” he says, hating confessing to any level incompetency, but he is truly floundering and feels awful. Has he gone about this in the wrong way? Lance deserves to have Keith’s full effort in what he hopes to be their relationship (when he actually confirms that’s what Lance wants) and the more he thinks about it, the more he realises he should have, could have done better.

“Hey!”

Ezor springs forward and taps him lightly on the head.

“Stop this. I know what you’re doing. Just plan a really amazing date for your next break and talk to him. That’s all.”

Acxa nods from behind, smile turning kind. “Yes. Make sure you take a good amount of time off to spend with him. Believe me, it can be hard balancing time to see each other, so you have to make the most of your breaks.”

Zethrid nods too. “Use your tongue to talk this time. Not just for-” but Ezor elbows her and she cuts off, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, I just thought of a super cute date! Ah, hurry up and book your leave so you can start planning. And have you called him yet? You should call before he goes to bed, make sure you call!”

Keith wonders, as they walk towards the main deck, if he went back in time and told newly appointed Black Paladin Keith that three of Lotor’s generals they were currently battling would eventually be helping him plan his first date with Lance, what he’d say.

It’s six weeks after their first kiss they schedule their first date. Keith has a month off, split between staying with Lance and Shiro. His first week is with Shiro though, as he promised he would spend more time with his brother, and he will keep to that.

It’s also partly as he isn’t sure he can cope with seeing Lance first thing back on Earth. His nerves have been yammering away in the uncertainty of it all, in the newness of everything and he questions exactly how he should behave with Lance. It is easier over messages, and similar over calls; although the first few times were supremely awkward, balancing this shift with the fact it is still shifting under their feet as they go.

Lance is flirty, and Keith can stare at his eyes without it being strange, tell him he misses him without it being read for anything other than what it is. And he does miss him. He’s had a taste of what it’s like to hold Lance and it’s addicting, wants to reach through the screen and melt into the touch again, kiss him until neither can breathe. The reaction is strong to the point of frightening as Keith has not experienced this level of want for another person before.

His past dalliances (as it’s the only apt word) have been short lived with gaps of years in between; stolen kisses once or twice at the Garrison with a boy whose name he doesn’t remember, and a couple of short lived connections with Blade members only lasting a handful of months, no one leaving with bruised feelings as there wasn’t much emotional attachment keeping it together.

Love and similar emotions are still so hard to come to terms with. Keith had spent so much time locking himself away from such things, building up the walls because each time they lowered he’d inevitably be left bleeding and broken. But slowly, one at a time, he’s attempting to let people in; family, friends and now the final strand. It just isn’t so easy to let go and feel. He is still so very afraid.

Shiro though is an example of one of these gone right; his brother, his family, his constant support. He is looking forward to their time together, and will spend his final week with his brother again before heading back to work. He’s also seeing Pidge and his mum during his time off, two others he needs to make sure he sees as frequently as he can.

He sleeps almost straight through his first day with Shiro, which is normal; he seems to crash badly whenever he’s off work. From then the week flashes by, the two catching up and just spending time together. Curtis joins them for dinner one night and it’s getting easier, both of them genuinely having their own conversation about flying; an obvious topic but they have enough material to speak to each other about without needing Shiro to guide.

It’s that evening as he and Shiro sit watching reruns of a crime series Keith is currently addicted to that Shrio mentions his plans.

“Curtis and I are going to move in together,” he says, casting his eyes to Keith. Keith stops the show, turning to Shiro with a smile.

“That’s great. When? And where?” he asks. Shiro smiles, wide and happy, and Keith feels the contagious excitement.

“Next few months we’ll look for a new place together. Still in the same neighbourhood, but we need more space. Better kitchen.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “You can’t cook, Shiro. You’re literally a danger to anyone in the kitchen.”

Shiro’s mechanical arm crosses the distance and swipes at him while Keith laughs loudly and smacks it away, hearing Shiro chuckle.

“Have you thought about getting a place?”

Keith’s laughter dies instantly but Shiro sees exactly where those thoughts are heading and holds up his hand.

“Keith, don’t even think that. Just because Curtis and I are moving in together does not mean you aren’t welcome. Both of us want to see you, and want you to stay with us when you visit.”

Keith calms his heart rate and inhales once, annoyance crowding in. Why he still automatically jumps to these conclusions he isn’t sure, the fact he still cannot convince his mind that he belongs in people’s lives is frustrating. However, before he can condemn himself further, Shiro elaborates.

“I mean just as you’ll be visiting Lance more often. It would be easier to have a place of your own, wouldn’t it?”

Keith hasn’t actually thought of that, but it does ring true. It’s a little one sided to rely on Lance putting him up each time. Assuming there will be another time. He swallows the blockage of anxiety that’s risen up, forcing his way past it.

“Maybe. I’m still not sure what’s happening with Lance. We haven’t really talked about things.”

Shiro nods. “I know, take your time. But you know Lance; once his heart is set on something, he doesn’t give in easily. And neither do you. I know you’re nervous about tomorrow, but you’ll be fine. He cares about you a lot.”

Keith nods, then narrows his eyes. “What do you know?”

Shiro laughs and shakes his head, but no amount of insults, threats and throwing popcorn at his brother throughout the rest of the evening convince him to reveal his secrets

Keith leaves early the next morning. His connecting flight doesn’t take too long, and he hires a bike to take him to Lance’s. He misses having his own, wonders idly as he rides if he does end up settling if he can buy one.

Another fantasy to indulge in, another ‘if’ to add to his collection.

As he drives up he see Lance waiting on the porch again, just like he did weeks ago when he arrived unannounced. His heart leaps and his fingers tingle because this time there is a plan, a purpose, and the expectations drown him for a moment before Lance steps down and comes fully into sight.

And the fears are replaced by an intense level of comfort because he’s here . He may not know how to start this; what to say, how to move, how to be. But Keith will learn and shape himself around these growing feelings until they have something which is theirs, making sense in both their minds.

He parks, removes his helmet and smiles as Lance walks over, whistling as he approaches.

“Nice bike! Yours?”

“Sadly not. Just hired it,” Keith replies, standing away and admiring it as Lance makes his way to his side. Keith turns and they are close, not as close as they have been but closer than most of their lives.

And Keith has no idea what to do next.

“Hi,” he breathes and feels himself flush as he stumbles to say anything with more meaning.

“Hi yourself,” Lance replies, and leans in, leaving a soft kiss on Keith’s increasingly reddening cheek. Keith has barely processed this when Lance curls his fingers through Keith’s and leads him into the now familiar house.

“I thought we could go into town after you’ve settled in? If you’re not too tired?” Lance asks as they make their way inside, still holding hands as they go up the stairs.

“Sure,” Keith replies, thinking his head is still such a jumble of giddiness he would agree to anything in this moment.

They walk the familiar route to the guest bedroom Keith stayed in previously when Lance suddenly freezes.

“I err...set this up, is it okay to err.. I’m mean I’m not sure I’m ready to-”

“I don’t mind sleeping here, it’s fine,” Keith finishes, trying to give Lance a supportive smile. Lance visibly relaxes and Keith files that in the back of his mind that this is a particular worry. Keith has not assumed anything and agrees they should take things slow.

He quickly unpacks, then returns downstairs to Lance who is waiting by the door. This time Keith goes for his hand first, possibly snatching it in what isn’t the most graceful of gestures, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind, smiling widely and giving his hand a squeeze as they walk to his car.

Conversation is easy then, as Lance drives and Keith chips in, picking up on old stories and questions they’ve not had time to ask. Talking is simple, they have already established a routine of this and while Lance is driving there is little Keith needs to do, can do other than talk in a relaxed way.

It hits him halfway there that this is his first date with Lance. The actuality of the moment, the reality rather than a daydream from the past few weeks, a longing from the past year or a hope from his time in space, when the first flickers of feelings had ignited at the base of his spine.

He has a strange out of body sensation; looking at himself with Lance from an alternate perspective, floating above, staring in, spying on Keith slowly starting to sweat from the truth of a moment building. Elation, shock and fear suddenly become a blanket across his being.

“Hungry? I really want to show you this place, it’s such good Spanish food. The couple who own it are now friend’s of my mum’s as she addicted to coming here,” he says with a fond smile.

“Sounds great,” Keith manages, pushing the strange experience away and forcing himself into the present. The present where Lance runs around to his side of the car to open the door for him, Keith rolling his eyes but secretly a little flushed over the attention.

Lance leads them in, this time their hands magnetising to one another instinctively, neither of them taking the lead. The restaurant is small and warming in presence, with yellow brickwork and covered in plants, sprawling and winding their way through from the ceiling downwards. The owner chatters to Lance in Spanish rapidly, kissing both his cheeks as she greets him. They are led to a cozy table near the back, candle already lit.

Keith sits, looking around and Lance smiles.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice. Homely,” he offers.

Lance grins happily as menus appear, and Keith is lost in names of dishes he doesn’t know, unsure what to pick. So he asks the expert.

“Want me to order a few things?” Lance replies and Keith agrees readily, putting down his menu in favour of just looking at the man in front of him now he can.

Lance ponders the menu and Keith watches the candle light flicker across his face, dancing shadows and illuminations of all the lines and hollows in his face. He looks softer in this half light, skin warm just waiting to be touched. Keith wants to memories the curve of his jaw, the distance from his lips to his eyes, trace them with kisses and feel his breath move. An overwhelming feeling that Keith tries to bask in before it becomes too much, and he has to lean away.

Lance also looks tired though, the dark circles under his eyes highlighted, the way his mouth draws in shaped by shadow. It is worrying still, the signals and signs of Lance still healing, or more accurately the ways he is still suffering, marking his very flesh.

But his eyes meet Keith’s and they are bright, happiness plain as sunrise and Keith has to go with that, has to meet him there until Lance is ready to share what is happening in the moments in between where Keith cannot see.

They order, and once they are alone again, Lance captures his hand, grinning as he rubs his thumb along the skin. Keith smiles, the contact now being so familiar even after a few hours that it’s now slotted into his mind as theirs, part of this new them they are creating.

“Good first date so far?” Lance asks with a wink. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Yes, the past 30 minutes has been enjoyable,” he says and Lance laughs.

“I’m glad I reach the ‘enjoyable’ status. Any tips on how I might reach ‘astounding’ or ‘best date ever’?”

Keith’s is so preoccupied with the cadence of his laughter, piecing each note together in his recollections for future days that he loses control of his words and confesses.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Lance blinks. “Wait, is this your first ever date?” he asks, voice high and incredulous and Keith hates that embarrassment colours his face at the mention.

“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth and Lance’s face immediately softens.

“Hey, no I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything, I was just surprised. It certainly wasn’t your first kiss before, so I just assumed.”

Keith shrugs. “You can kiss people without dating.”

Lance nods, and the air is strange and heavy all of a sudden. Keith inhales, and looks down at their interlocking hands.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, really. This is all...new. A little scary. I’m still getting used to the idea of you wanting this. Wanting me,” he says, forcing himself to look at Lance as he finishes.

“That’s not in question, Keith. Don’t worry about that part. I know it’s a little scary, I feel that way too. But just be who you are. That’s all I want.”

Lance makes it sound so easy, and part of Keith knows Lance is right, but another knows that being who he is and forming a relationship with that will not come with ease. People are complicated, have their own ways, experiences, fears and joys. Any connection takes work and knowing what they have in their collective pasts means nothing can ever be simple.

But instead of voicing he leaps into that impulsive part and lifts Lance’s hand, kissing his fingers once, and watching as Lance’s eyes widen and his own blush spreads. He smiles and lowers their joint hands as Lance glares at him.

“Oh it’s on, Mullet. Think you can out maneuver me?” he teases and Keith laughs, settling into the familiarity.

“I look forward to your comeback.”

Lance winks, and Keith decides now is the time to ask since the subject has been breached and they are already on serious topics.

“You said you want me to be me. But what else...do you want. Of this.”

Lance tilts his head, assessing and then a smile.

“I want you.”

Keith’s face practically explodes into a blush and he tries to salvage his train of thought as Lance grins.

“Comeback complete.”

“Really?” Keith says with a groan, and Lance’s wonderful laugh echoes again.

“Okay, sorry I couldn’t help it. I know what you mean. It’s still new, as you said, but I’m in this for the time it lasts, which is hopefully a long time, and I’m in fully. I think it might take us a while to get the hang of it and for it to not feel so fresh, but I am serious about it. About us.”

And Keith’s exhale is shaky but it’s a good wave, the release of tension and the anticipation of the new.

“I’m serious about us too. I want to be with you,” he replies.

“So we’re together,” Lance confirms, which may just be for Keith’s benefit as he needs to have it clear as crystal or he’ll worry on semantics for days, which Lance is aware of. So Keith agrees and Lance mock cheers.

“I have a boyfriend! Oh that feels weird, will definitely take some getting used to, but I like it. Ooh I need an appropriate pet name for you, ah so many to choose from.”

“Please don’t,” Keith says, a distraction from the thrill and joy emanating from the word ‘boyfriend.’ He will also need time to get used to that, has never been or had a boyfriend before. A title he wants to live up to.

The food is as incredible as promised, and Keith relishes in each dish, trying in vain to pronounce them all correctly. As they eat, Lance twins his foot around Keith’s, their ankles brushing, the faint hint of contact just as electric as hand holding had first been. Keith practically inhales his food, while Lance eats more slowly and less, insisting though that Keith continue, that he enjoyed it. Keith worries but still says nothing as it’s not the time or the place. But it will be returned to, he thinks to himself.

“I have another stop before we go back,” Lance says as they walk to the car, the daylight starting to dim, entering night although it’s really not that late.

They drive a short way before Lance parks, and Keith is unsure what they are doing. He can’t fathom what this is until he steps out and realises they are in a secluded grassy area, a small hill reaching out before them.

Their hands meet again as they climb to the top, not taxing in the slightest but Keith is sweating due to the only just fading humidity and light, extremely conscious of how hot his hand must be to hold. But Lance does not let go or seem bothered; if anything he clings on more as they make their way across the grass to look out over the town in the dying light. It is a view to devour; although not extremely high, the tops of houses can be seen, the clear weather making the horizon long and far, everything smaller like a toy town in pleasant shapes and angles. Lance tugs at his hand slightly, and they lower to the ground to sit next to one another, their hands still remaining clasped as they make their way slightly awkwardly down.

Lance grins as Keith looks over.

“What do you think?” he asks, once again checking in and gesturing with his free hand to the view. It hits Keith then that Lance is nervous, has been this whole time in the same manner he is. And it lightens everything, the blanket of emotional weight slipping down his shoulders as instead of speaking, Keith leans in.

He thinks Lance leans as well, as they are kissing before he expects. Lance’s lips feel warm, the heat of the day or just the heat of him and they fall back into the rhythm of before, as if it had been moments since their last set of kisses. It’s slow, unhurried with an edge of exploration. Keith feels himself scramble forward ever so slightly to just be nearer, and Lance moves to catch him as he does, hand beginning to run along Keith’s arm as their kiss turns deeper, breath with an afterthought of sound, electricity in skin.

And this affection to Keith is intoxication and want; that feeling of need with each touch of lips, his nerve endings snapping with every brush and push. He has never had this before, and it’s a world of new beginnings and feelings he’s happy to drown in. It ends though, rather abruptly and unexpectedly as Lance pulls away and Keith’s body is caught off centre.

Lance’s arm steadies him again though, and he chuckles lowly, pressing his forehead into Keith’s. The intimacy of the gesture is striking and Keith closes his eyes just to feel as his breathing evens out.

“I brought you up here for the sunset, stop distracting me,” Lance murmurs and Keith takes that as his cue to move away. He doesn’t go far though, as once he is upright, Lance leans to the side, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder. Their hands are so very hot now but Keith doesn’t care, leaning into the touch slightly, resting his head on top of Lance’s.

He wonders once again, as the light fades, if Lance remembers that sunset. He almost asks but the circumstances had been so different then, and this is for a new purpose. He does hope though, deep down that Lance associates sunsets with him, in the same way Keith irrevocably does with Lance. But Lance sighs next to him in a way which can only be contentment as the day glows orange and deeper into purple and blue, and Keith just lets the moment happen, the feel of their skin touching washing over him. The moment is theirs, alone in time of their creation, nothing to be broken or disturbed. Just a space for them.

It is not always so easy though.

“I thought you’d booked more time off?”

Lance is annoyed. Understandably, Keith has sprung this on him last minute. Lance has been annoyed and snappy a few times in the past few weeks and Keith is unsure why or how to fix it when he’s so far away. He rubs his temples.

“I did, but there’s been a mix-up with one of the supply chains, so I have to stay and help. I promise though I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he answers.

“Only for four days.”

Keith nods and Lance huffs, looking away from the screen. It’s a childish gesture and Keith is thrown back to their early days as Paladins, fighting just like this, in huffs and dramatic moods.

“I’m sorry Lance, I really am. I miss you. I want to see you again. And next time I promise I’ll make sure I stay for longer.”

Lance turns back and Keith can see the disappointment and hurt in each small movement of his face. Acxa had been right, this long distance was already hard, and the balance was still too new for them to have got the right communications skills on track for when it goes wrong while they are far away.

Lance looks restless, eyes flickering around and only settling for a few minutes before roving once more. He also looks tired, and Keith’s worry flares. He doesn’t want to ask if Lance is sleeping, how he’s doing and really probe into it while on the phone and Lance is already antsy. It’s a conversation he needs to have with him face to face, once he can see in person how he really is. They talk more and Lance seems calmer, though still upset at the change by the time Keith has to end the call.

He immediately dives into work, sourcing a new tender, comparing prices and companies from known planets as quickly and thoroughly as possible, determined to take his leave as soon as he can. Time passes in a flurry and a knock breaks his concentration.

The door opens to Acxa, carrying a tray of food.

“You missed dinner. Again. I’ll start dragging you away from that screen,” she threatens, placing the food down near him.

“Thank you,” he says, offering a smile as she leans over and looks at the screen.

“Good progress, but you know we can help with this.”

Keith nods. “I was going to ask, but I wanted to shortlist myself today. Then we can get started on bids, and I’ll leave that part to you.”

Acxa takes a chair and sits next to him, gesturing to the food. Keith rolls his eyes and begins to eat as she speaks again.

“You’re meant to be off. You can’t keep working without a break, you’ll collapse or burn out. You need to learn to delegate better, you shouldn’t be doing everything by yourself. And I know Lance is probably really disappointed he can’t see you. He had plans for you both, you were so excited.”

Keith swallows around his current mouthful. “I know, and he is. I’ll make it up to him.”

“Keith, you can’t always do that. Our schedules are complex enough. I’ve been doing this for longer than you, and at some point you’re going to have to manage it better or the relationship won’t last. This isn’t an emergency, you don’t need to prioritise it; let us all work out the best way to solve it so you can have your time with Lance and not worry about the Blade.”

Keith nods, eyes closing against sudden tiredness. He’s bad at letting others take work from him, so used to having only himself to rely upon, a remnant from war time that has not fully shifted. But Acxa is right, he shouldn’t have automatically buried himself in the task when it was unnecessary, cancelling on Lance without even thinking. Before he knows it, Ezor and Zethrid are in the room, and between the four of them they have a plan to solve this so Keith can leave tomorrow evening and get an extra day with Lance.

He’s exhausted when he arrives, having worked almost all through the night but it’s worth it when Lance folds him into a hug on arrival. He breathes in deeply, the scent of Lance’s skin, his shampoo and fabric softener. His muscles relax as that scent grounds him, here with his boyfriend and feeling like he’s returned from longer than a few weeks.

It’s late though Earth time and Keith is already flagging.

“You’re so tired. You really did rush,” Lance almost whispers as he traces the skin under Keith’s eyes, the brush of contact causing him to shiver.

“You look tired too,” he answers and Lance stiffens. Strange. Keith pulls away, opens his mouth to ask but Lance picks up his bag.

“Let’s get you to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”

His smile is strained as they make their way in. Keith settles himself into the familiar room, reveling in the prospect of rest. This will be the second time he’s stayed since his confession, the last two times they’d seen each other just for a few hours when Keith stopped by on Earth as part of missions.

Although he’s exhausted, there’s something preventing sleep. He may now just be too wired, too caffeinated or still not used to the change in time or setting. He lies awake in the dark, trying anything to soothe the rushing of his mind, the jolting in his limbs and let the heaviness behind in eyelids overtake.

It’s through this mist he hears the sound. Something dropping, not a crash but a muffled bang, followed by a cut off sob that has him out of bed and crossing to the door quickly. He isn’t sure who is staying, can never keep up with which of Lance’s family or family friends is around, but if someone is hurt in the middle of the night he’ll make sure they are okay.

He goes to Lance’s room first, each step causing a new spark of worry that becomes a crescendo when he realises the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs is coming from his room. He runs the last few steps and knocks, probably too loudly for the middle of the night, but manages a whisper when he calls out.

“Lance? It’s Keith. Are you okay?”

The sobbing is cut off with a gasp. A second, two, three, four his heartbeat a metronome in his ears and then.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

That’s it. Silence. Keith rests his head against the door and thinks his heart may be tearing in two, a victim of Lance’s tone of voice.

“Can I come in?”

Less of a pause this time.

“Yes.”

He enters. A lamp on the bedside table illuminates the room, casing an enormous shadow of Lance, sitting hunched on his bed, hands visibly shaking, whole body almost rocking, everything painfully taunt with wild still streaming eyes.

“I...dropped my screen,” he manages, and Keith follows his eyeline to see the smashed device on the floor, screen completely cracked. Then he ignores it, crosses the room in three strides and is on the bed with Lance in his arms in a matter of seconds.

Lance breaks. Keith holds him close as he cries, full body sobs shaking them both. Keith turns them so he’s sitting against the headboard, Lance in his lap who curls around him instantly with his head against Keith’s shoulder.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he says, endearment slipping out without conscious thought, and Lance grips him. Keith’s fingers float up into his hair, running through the strands at the base of his skull, trying to be as comforting as he can.

“I can’t sleep. It’s come back, this hasn’t happened in months, I thought...whenever I try I feel like I’m falling when I close my eyes and it makes me sick...and sometimes I do sleep but I’m always falling and the enemies I’ve killed are always reaching for me, pulling me as I fall...I thought it had stopped, I’m meant to be better, I-”

“Lance,” Keith says, using a tiny amount of pressure with his shoulder to get him to sit up, and he does, follows the movements of Keith’s body until he rises. Keith’s hands move to Lance’s face, fingers wiping at his damp skin. He remembers the forehead touch, remembers how much it made him feel so goes for this, leaning until they’re connected for a few breaths. He then tilts Lance’s head, adding on kiss to his lips before moving back, hands still caressing, not letting go.

“These things, they don’t just vanish. Getting better isn’t a term that’s helpful because sometimes the nightmares just come. Sometimes the bad days override the good for no reason. The memories come back. The bad days can turn into weeks or longer. It feels harder when it’s been easier for a long time.”

Lance nods and it’s a shared understanding they are forever changed.

“We went to war. We killed people. We didn’t save everyone. I have nightmares, Shiro’s had them longer. It’s harder when it’s in our minds and we can’t see it to remember there are scars and gaps in us we don’t know how to mend. But we’re living and we’re trying everyday. And it’s okay when some days we just can’t figure out how to keep on like everyone else.”

Lance’s breathing has settled and a few stray tears fall as he closes his eyes. Keith just watches him, knows his heart is torn to shreds and wants to curse every power in the universe for doing this to Lance, to all of them. He’d willingly take all of Lance’s hurts and struggles on top of his own, but he can’t and he doesn’t know if his words or touches are any help at all.

But Lance opens his eyes and there’s a shine there. He leans forward and this time it’s his turn to be kissed, once and a little more lingering, sweet although it’s filled with sorrow and tastes like tears.

“Will you stay?” he asks.

“As long as you want,” Keith answers.

They shuffle around, neither knowing how to position against the other, and Keith finds he has too many limbs to fit as they dance complexly around a relatively small space. In the end, Lance is stretched out, Keith curled into him, hand on his chest. Lance reaches to turn out the light, eye mask in hand.

“You can keep it on, if you like,” Keith says, but Lance shakes his head.

“I should try and sleep. So should you.”

The darkness descends and it’s as if Keith’s senses have a trigger point, and he is overwhelmed with such full body tiredness he can feel himself powering down. Lance shifts beneath him, and sleepily Keith clutches at his shirt.

“I’m here,” he slurs, and it’s the last recollection he has before sleeping.

It’s bright when he wakes, eyes hurting and blinking rapidly. He’s warm, far warmer than he usually is and his right arm has gone completely dead. Keith turns, making a noise of protest, at well, the world at this point, only for his eyes to snap open when a low laugh sounds.

He looks up to see Lance, smiling, and the memory of the night awakens within him.

“You are so adorable when you first wake up. So confused, how were you a rebel fighter?”

Keith squints at him. “I’m a retired rebel fighter.”

“You’re an adorable sleepyhead. Admit it. You are not a morning person. Shouldn’t the hero Mullet Man be ready for action any time of day?” Lance teases, running his hands through what is undoubtedly Keith’s terrible bed head.

Keith is certain if he were to be attacked and not woken up naturally his instincts would kick in, as they have done even of late. But Lance just smiles harder at the look on his face, and he’s honestly concerned nonsensical babble will spill out if he does reply.

He’s surer than ever in this moment he’s so in love with this man. Has known so for a long time, but the love just blindsides him now; in the way that Lance looks at him, the care and adoration clear. It’s not the romantic sense of novels and movies which would dictate Lance looks incredible on waking. He does, but not due to anything aesthetically pleasing, other than how Lance always looks good to Keith. It’s more the vulnerability of the experience, of being present through the night and into the dawn, the lack of space between them that each allows, and the tidal wave of emotions accompanying this.

So he blinks, then shuffles upwards to lie next to Lance, Lance’s arm coming to wrap around his middle.

“How are you feeling?” Keith asks, hands combing through Lance’s hair in a mirror of the comfort he’s just received. Lance’s eyes close and he sighs.

“Not great. But not like last night,” he replies, and it’s honest. Which is all Keith wants to hear from now on.

“You should have said sooner,” he voices, and Lance looks back at him.

“I know. I guess I thought it would pass before I needed to. I honestly didn’t think it would get back to this stage. I’m sorry, I’ve been so snappy lately because of the lack of sleep.”

“It’s okay, Lance. It’s not like a broken bone, it goes backwards and forwards,” Keith reminds him, an echo of last night.

“I know. I think...I think I’ll go and talk to someone again. I don’t want it to get worse,” Lance decides, looking at Keith as he speaks.

Keith smiles. “Sounds good. And I’m here, you know. You can tell me if it’s ever too much.”

“I will. And you can too. I didn’t know you still had nightmares,” Lance says. Keith closes his eyes once, and feels something in the back of his mind grow. He pushes it back.

“I still have many things,” he answers quietly.

Lance frowns but doesn’t say anything further, just links his fingers with Keith’s and squeezes. It’s a moment of contentment then Lance sighs.

“This is not how I imagined our first night together,” he mutters

Keith’s eyebrows launch upwards and he moves closer, grinning. “Imagined,” he drawls.

Lance immediately flushes, and he laughs, a little awkwardly as he looks away. “Err, maybe. Yes. It would have been way less dramatic. More romantic for sure.”

Keith laughs fully, clutching at Lance’s hand gaining his attention again. “There’s other nights,” he says, kissing the edge of Lance’s jaw. Lance stiffens a little then relaxes.

“Y-yeah. Another time for sure. I-um. I need more time, I think. I haven’t ever spent the night with...I mean, I-”

“Lance. Stop,” Keith says and it’s amazing to him that Lance is so full of charm, moves and lines but fumbles saying he’s not ready for sex. Keith is utterly and completely in love with him once again, the feeling so abrupt and clear this early in the day.

“We go at our own pace,” he says, and leans forward to kiss Lance. Arms wrap around him willingly, locking him in place. They break away, and Lance’s arms just lock him in tighter.

“This is also good though,” he says and Keith chuckles his way forward into another kiss.

“I think I’m ready to try flying again.”

Keith sits straighter, looking up from the controls. He’s heading down to Earth, will be seeing Lance in a few hours so was not prepared for the statement. Lance seems to sense this as well, for he laughs and gestures at the screen.

“I’ve been thinking about it on and off, but watching you do it now kind of made me remember. And it’s all good memories right now. I’d like to fly.”

“I think you should,” Keith answers, and he cannot keep the smile from his face as he flies himself. He imagines Lance beside him, his co-pilot in their journeys and it’s perfect, just as it should be.

“I mentioned it to Shiro last time we spoke, and he said he can set me up with something. Retrain, I guess.”

“You’ve already planned that far ahead?” Keith replies, a little surprised Lance hasn’t mentioned it until now.

“It was part of another conversation, and I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to do it then. Anyway, I’m so excited to see your apartment! I should be there at six, I’ll leave soon. Sorry I can’t make it sooner.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. You have a job too,” Keith says as he types in the coordinates and waits for ground control’s permission to begin landing. When he looks up, Lance is frowning.

“Everything okay?” Keith asks.

“What? Yeah, of course. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and I see you’re wearing the shirt I like,” Lance replies, winking and leaning forward slightly.

Keith tries not to blush too hard. The shirt had... unexpected results last time they’d been together. Funny, how a few months ago Lance had stuttered at the thought of such activities, and now instigates the precursor to them from miles away. Keith feels his own eyes glaze as he remembers the feel of Lance’s fingers popping each button, the slide of their lips, the heat between them-

An alert that his request has been accepted. He snaps himself to the present, flushing wildly and on seeing Lance look smug on the screen, narrows his eyes.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Fine. Think of me while you unpack, babe. See you soon,” he says, winking and blowing a kiss exaggeratedly at the screen before ending the call.

Keith rolls his eyes but settles into the last of the flight. He’s later than he imagined he’d be by the time he reaches the apartment, knowing Shiro and Curtis will already be there. Indeed they are and to his horror they have already unpacked for him.

“Don’t be too grateful, we stole your coffee and both your mugs,” Shiro adds, toasting him as he just stares.

“You know you only have two mugs, right?” Curtis adds and Keith nods, distracted. Why have more than two when it was just him?

“Why didn’t you wait?” he asks, settling down on the small sofa next to Shiro.

“You don’t have much stuff, Keith. We thought we’d get started. Took us less than an hour,” Curtis explains.

Keith feels awful, but as the afternoon melts away into catching up and discussing Keith’s plans for the apartment, the feeling fades. He promises himself though he’ll do something for Shiro and Curtis in the future, a thank you gift or action as soon as he can.

Lance arrives dead on time and Keith is suddenly nervous. Lance has seen all the photos, helped Keith narrow down the places he liked from just images, but he’s suddenly filled with baffling concern he will not like it now he’s here.

However Lance seems enchanted with the place, running into every room inspecting it, commenting on the things Keith can do and change, all of which Keith knows he’ll never have time for. But he does love the place. With a small window seat, a comfortable bedroom, kitchen-diner and bathroom, it has everything he needs. A place to stay when he’s here on Earth, a place Lance can visit to feel a little like theirs.

Lance and Shiro hover by the door, discussing something deeply as Curtis and Keith clear away. It takes them longer than expected, but after goodbyes and a promise of dinner later in the week, it’s just the two of them.

It’s quiet for a moment, and Keith just lets the stillness fall, framing in his mind the vision of Lance being here in his apartment for the first time.

“So how does it feel, to have your own place?” Lance asks, snaking his arm around Keith, holding him close.

“Good. I think. Nice to have somewhere to come back to.”

Lance smiles and kisses him, soft and slow. Not the intensity he’s expecting given their earlier conversation but one to sink into for hours, leaving his eyelids fluttering.

“Sooo, I brought this!” Lance exclaims, bounding away and rummaging through his luggage to produce a games console. It looks like something Pidge may have designed, sleek and meant for travel, easier to fit in a bag.

“Why?” Keith asks, slightly bewildered.

“Because, Mullet Man, my oh-so-beautiful boyfriend, you are probably the only person in the galaxy at this point who hasn’t played, a new apartment means a game night and I’m going to teach you this by kicking your ass,” he says, finishing off with a wink.

Keith tries not to appear affected by the overt flirting, rolling his eyes and fetching drinks before Lance can catch any signs that he’s grinning at the ridiculousness. When he returns, Lance is still hooking up the console, so he sits down and asks

“What were you and Shiro talking about?”

Lance stills, then resumes, TV lighting up as he connects the console successfully.

“The Garrison are looking for a flight instructor. Shiro asked if I’d be interested.”

Keith freezes completely, as it’s perfect. It’s actually the perfect job for Lance, he isn't sure why he’s not thought of it before. But that’s not what matters.

“And what do you think?”

Lance turns away from the screen, facing Keith.

“I’m not sure. Maybe. The idea is...appealing. Mainly because the Garrison screwed us up so badly I know I can do better, want to make sure kids coming through don’t have that experience. But I’m not even flying yet. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Keith nods, knows Lance is still taking everything a step at time. Still working out who he wants to be now, how he wants to live his life.

“If you want to talk?” he offers, but Lance shakes his head.

“I don’t really want to think about it tonight. Right now, I just want to play,” he says loading the game and coming to sit beside Keith, handing him a controler.

“Sure,” Keith says, taking it and following instructions on the screen to the game.

“So, each time I win a lap you need to unbutton your shirt.” Lance announces.

Keith shakes his head and turns to Lance, whose smirking, sitting very close now.

“What the hell?”

“You’ve never heard of strip video games?” he says idly, all innocent tones and glittering eyes.

“That’s not a thing, Lance,” Keith says, but is smiling regardless at the antics.

“It is and oh, hey would you look at that, game’s starting!”

Keith turns back to the screen and feels the competitor within him rise to the surface, even if it’s just video games with his boyfriend in his new place.

Keith doesn’t relent to Lance’s playful insistence of strip video games, and the night moves on with more competition, a decent amount of yelling over the results and pizza. They go to sleep worn out from the evening, Keith overly tired from the travel earlier in the day. Although it takes him a while to get to sleep, the bed still slightly uncomfortable, the noise of the house unfamiliar, he eventually succumbs, Lance’s breathing lulling him under.

The dream starts like they always do. With fire.

In this one, a figure walks toward him, embroiled in flame. They are just a moving body, unconcerned they are alight and everything they touch ignites, until Keith is in a cube of flame, just him and the huge, monstrously tall person before him. They reach out one flaming hand and beckon him, one, two, three times.

And then he falls.

Falls so fast his throat fills with air but he’s not breathing, just asphyxiating on his own inhalation, until his body crashes, jolts to the bottom and he’s surrounded. They are shadow figures, a wide circle of them touching body to body like paper cut outs.

In one fluid motion they step into the light and are all clones. Of Shiro but also of others, of Lance, his mother, his father, Pidge and Hunk. Their eyes corrupted, their movements constructed wrongly. He feels his scar burn; searches for the flames but only sees faces, a sea, an ocean, colliding.

“I’m sorry,” they say in one unified voice of nothing, then loom in and-

He’s awake. But not. He tries to breathe but there is something there compressing him, pushing him down into the sheets and bed, although he can only see the ceiling. He tries to move but his body is frozen, wants to scream but he has no voice, not anymore.

Then Lance is there. He appears, their eyes lock and Keith still cannot breathe, it’s too much. His vision fills with water and he must be crying but he still cannot perceive anything other than the need to get more air, to return, to fully wake up.

It subsides in waves. His chest loosens, he can hear Lance speaking; first noise then words, and he can move one finger then two. It finally ends, he detaches himself from the paralysis with an effort so great it feels like battle. He inhales. It no longer burns.

“Lance,” he mutters and Lance is there, helping him sit up against the headboard.

“Are you okay? Stupid question, sorry. What can I do?”

Keith can feel a headache, and feels himself begin to shake, the trembling of his extremities a telltale sign he’ll soon be in no fit state to do anything.

“My throat hurts. Can I have water, please.”

His voice keeps cracking as if the fire were really there, charred remains of his voice a souvenir.

“Sure, baby, whatever you need,” Lance whispers and stands, giving Keith another look as he leaves.

Once he’s gone Keith falls down again, shaking and clutching at his head, curling inwards. He’s not had a nightmare in months, not had sleep paralysis in even longer. He used to wake a lot like this in the aftermath of Naxzela, locked in his own body as he smashed into the shield. But in recent years they’d faded to the occasional appearance. The fire dreams have been around since he was a child, but the second part changes depending on whatever horror his brain would like him to recall in that moment. Clones are a recurring theme.

The sleep paralysis will leave him useless, it has always made him particularly vulnerable. As he struggles with his thoughts Lance re-enters, and Keith feels him crawl onto the bed.

“Keith, can you sit up and drink?”

Keith does, although it takes Lance supporting him to do so. The water helps, refreshes and focuses. Once he’s downed half the glass he leans back, resting against Lance who holds him close, hands securing him as Keith rests against his chest.

“Nightmare?” Lance asks after a moment. Keith inhales, then nods.

“They change. This one was about..the clone.”

Lance hugs him tighter, adds a kiss to the back of his neck. For Lance knows all about that, there is nothing else needed to be said or explain. Keith’s hands shake and Lance removes one arm to grip his left hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I’ve got you. It’s over now.”

Keith nods, but feels his teeth begin to chatter. The shakes don’t subside, so Lance sits them both up, gently turns Keith’s cheek so they face one another.

“What helps?” he asks, and Keith wishes he has an answer.

“Nothing. Or I’ve never tried. It’s just.. like this.”

Lance watches, then nods once, moving them again.

“Are you okay by yourself for a few minutes?” he asks, and Keith wants to roll his eyes except it’s a fair question, and in this moment he wonders if he will be, wonders if Lance being gone will make the nightmares comes faster, return in a moment of solace.

But he nods his head and Lance kisses his forehead once before leaving. The sensation lingers, a buzz lipped shaped for a few moments. Keith clasps his fingers together in a rhythmic movement to try and gain some semblance of control. The twitching remains but the action passes the time.

He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t sense Lance return until a familiar pink blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. He looks up and Lance is holding a mug, still steaming as he fixes the blanket like a cape around Keith.

“Blanket, and tea. And now cuddles, so I hope you’re prepared to be completely spoiled today. As that’s literally the plan. Pamper my boyfriend until he’s so sick of it he chases me out of his new apartment with one of his many knives.”

Lance’s smile is blinding and Keith is just confused as Lance puts down the mug on the bedside table and moves in front of Keith, securing the blanket around him.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Lance laughs, and shakes his head.

“Taking care of you, Keith. Like you take care of me. Now please just let me. If you’re having sleep paralysis you’re gonna be a wreck for a while.”

He’s back in Lance’s arms, hugged close before the sentence even registers. Carefully, Lance traces the edges of the scar on his cheek with the pads of his fingers, before leaning in an placing feather-light kisses across the uneven flesh, slow as can be, so Keith can feel each and every one. Normally, he hates the reminder of that day, the physical accumulation of one of the worst experiences of his life. But Lance is using it as a way to ground and comfort, giving care and attention to the remaining reflection of the basis of the just passed nightmare.

This affection is still so new, given freely and provided as a result of something he’s spent his entire life coping with alone. Now he doesn’t have to. Now Lance is here, in his bed, wrapping him in his favourite blanket and just holding him until it all comes back down from orbit.

“I love you.”

It’s out in the open. He just can't contain it. He’s not been hugged after a nightmare since his father died and it’s such a simple thing, but to him it’s everything.  He’s told exactly three people he loves them in the past, all of whom have at one point or another left. It’s been hard then, to add a forth, a different type of love as well.

Vocalisation of feeling has never been his strong point as words get tangled and stuck before he can make the sense known. It just hasn’t ever felt right, but now it’s leaning so far in another direction. It feels wrong to leave these feelings unsaid. Lance just has to know. Now, while Keith is in the throws of exactly just how lucky he is to have him, to have been given this chance to fall, he can’t keep it to himself.

And Lance’s face morphs, it changes shape through emotions; the surprise to the joy, and he leans in with smile, to Keith’s shaking figure.

“I love you too, Keith.”

It’s a surprise because it’s not fireworks, or his world imploding, or magic sparking from the famous four words. It’s molten gold, liquid stardust shimmering inside, spreading fully and evenly into each limb, each chamber of his heart and just stays. It’s comfort and ease, joy in the rightness and the sense it makes to love Lance and be loved in return.

So he leans in, smile that cannot be contained on his face, and lets himself be loved.

Lance pilots for the first time in years on a Tuesday morning. Keith finds it hard afterwards to describe the feeling of being there; after all, it’s just a flight, the circling of a plane in different directions, nothing spectacular compared to some of the feats he’s seen on this planet, on others and in the solitude of space.

Yet, it’s magnificent.

Because the knowledge it’s his boyfriend piloting, performing those simple maneuvers they both memoried practically as children in preparation for the the Garrison, is astounding. He is so proud to be standing here, knowing just how much this means to Lance.  Knowing all the preparation, indecision and determination that occurred before he stepped into the cockpit today has his blood singing in happiness on Lance’s behalf as if he were in free-fall.

Keith’s taken day leave just to be here, eyes gummy and stinging from the lack of sleep, limbs aching with too much strain and stretch. But as he watches Lance’s craft come in for landing all he can feel is pure joy for another; that strength of emotion reserved for happiness due to a loved one’s success, different from your own victories but just as sweet.

“That landing was good, I don’t think I could have done better,” Hunk says from beside him, filming the entire thing.

“He’s a natural, always has been,” Keith replies, eyes glued to the scene before him, even as Hunk chuckles fondly.

Shiro is on the ground meeting him, and Keith watches from the observation deck where he and Hunk stand as Lance practically jumps out of the plane and hugs him. Keith can’t stop smiling, wants to be there too, and suddenly wonders why he’s not.

“Let’s go down,” he says and Hunk agrees, the two leaving the room.

“I’m gonna send this Pidge once I’ve shown Lance, they’ve been texting me nonstop,” Hunk says as they walk.

“Let me see,” Keith demands, and the two awkwardly walk while replaying the video, Keith smiling just as brightly as he did on seeing it first hand.

Lance and Shiro have moved inside by the time they reach the ground level, Shiro going through Lance’s flight path, picking out tips and pointers for improvement. But as soon as the door opens, Lance turns and smiles widely at them both.

“Buddy, that was amazing!” Hunk yells and the two are high fiving and hugging, the professional run through abandoned for the blow by blow between best friends. Keith hangs back awaiting his turn, Shiro coming to stand beside him.

“He did great. I know paid instructors who perform worse. He’s just a bit rusty.”

Keith nods. “Hesitant too,” he adds which after such a long gap makes sense. Much of this is trusting your instincts, which after a long break can feel as if they’ve vanished into the past. With time, Keith knows, Lance will remember to trust himself, develop that second sense he still most definitely has inside him.

For his eyes are bright and his laugh is clear and Keith is sure more than ever Lance belongs in the air. There is no one else in this world who loves flying as much as Lance, even Keith doesn’t think he can claim the title. And seeing him after this one small try, Keith knows it won’t be long until he’s back making it his focus.

“So. How did I do? Impressed? Think you can take me?” Lance says, standing before Keith with a grin so knowing Keith wants to thank whatever powers run this tumultuous universe for giving him back this part of himself.

“Your right turn is too wide. Descending choppy. Landing was good but could have been smoother. Your take off was fine though,” Keith says with a shrug.

And Lance gasps dramatically, knows by now how Keith works and this is taunting tone. But Keith cannot keep up the guise for long and he’s wrapping Lance in a hug, who laughs and clasps him tightly back.

“I’m so proud of you,” Keith whispers in his ear, kissing his cheek as he leans in. Lance clutches him tighter in response, and when they pull back he looks happier than Keith can remember. So he kisses him, tastes that smile and shares in the joy Lance is radiating, loving that he can be part of this moment.

“Aww, I need a photo of you guys!” Hunk calls as they part.

“Um...” Lance says and Keith looks at him, concerned. Some of the excitement has slipped, but Hunk is already pulling out his phone, tapping away. Keith thinks it’s strange; they actually don’t have any photos together, he realises. Keith is terrible at taking them, and this is a perfect moment to capture.

But Lance is tense, even as he leans in to Keith’s side, Hunk clicking away. He shows them, and Keith likes it, a lot.

In the image, Lance is pressed close to him, face tipped to one side leaning into Keith’s space so naturally. The stiffness Keith felt from a moment ago hasn’t translated, and Lance is smiling widely. Keith is still decked out in his Blade gear, hair tied up but one annoying piece falling in front of his face on the left side, thankfully missing his eye. Lance’s flight suit is standard issue but still looks so perfect on him, his hair wild from the helmet removal, a little longer than it’s been in recent months, so much so Keith wants to smooth it through the screen. His eyes are what Keith is draw to though, so alive, surrounded by less shadow than they’ve been for years, his face fuller and smile one part happiness and one pride, with a little of the attitude he was so known for as a teen. Because he is made for piloting, this is his place. And Lance knows this now. The plane is in the background, just about seen as the focus is on them, the other key player in this monumental day.

“Send it to me?” he requests and Hunk does instantly.

“I just need to check on something. Lance, I’ll be outside to finish the debrief and book in your next session,” Shiro calls, and Hunk departs with him, sending a wave over his shoulder.

Keith turns back to the photo, and Lance stares at it over his shoulder, making a disappointed sound.

“You don’t like it?” Keith asks, surprised. Lance again seems tense and nervous, and Keith is at a loss.

“It’s fine...I guess. Not such a fan of photos of myself at the moment. But, hey, I need to get home soon.”

Keith files the photos comment away; something new he’s not expressed before. But immediately circles Lance in his arms, their imminent parting more of a focus.

“I wish I could stay longer. But I’m glad I saw you fly. You really were great,” Keith says, brushing back Lance’s hair from his forehead as he’d wished to before.

“Yeah? Think we can race again soon?” Lance replies, taking the one step closer that was separating them, bringing his forehead to Keith’s.

“I’ll still beat you,” Keith says, watching Lance’s smirk grow with the challenge.

“Oh, just you wait, babe. It’s on.”

And Keith laughs as Lance kisses him, peppers them across his cheeks and back to his lips. But he sighs resignedly as he leans in.

“I’m so glad you came today, but I wish you could stay longer. I hate that I’ve barely seen you recently.”

Keith hums, his whole body relaxing into Lance. The long distance is taking its toll at the moment. Every day since they’d spoken their love, Keith finds himself longing to spend more of his time with Lance exploring this feeling. He misses waking up with him, misses hearing him sing in Spanish in the shower, misses the random conversations about nothing. A few hours, a few days here and there did not allow that type of lingering experience to occur. It is all making the most of time, scheduling activities and plans. No time to just be, to just feel and love.

“I know. I need a nice long holiday with you,” he says, already trying to think of a way to take at least a month off.

“Yeah. It’s tough we still live so far away even on Earth. But I’ll take all of you I can get, Keith. Even an hour is better than nothing.”

Keith smiles, reveling in that feeling, that expression of love coming from one of the people he cares about more than anything in this reality. That there is someone who will make this work, spends their energy and time ensuring they can share in as much as possible with one another has his head spinning, his heart growing. It is amazing to him how he can be loved like this, even after all this time.

“I love you,” he says, not sure he can convey in those words just how much it’s true and how happy he is.

“I love you, too. Thank you for coming Keith.”

Keith rolls his eyes, takes Lance’s hand and they start walking towards the exit.

“As if anything would have stopped me from seeing your first flight.”

And it’s still such a wonderful feeling that, even after being together for a while now, he can still on occasion leave his boyfriend flustered.

It all seemed routine, a normal supply drop. Except, once or twice a year the planet of Cerisedora has such strong atmospheric disturbance the whole planet goes into lock down; ships grounded, external communications not able to reach out. Something the planet’s occupants neglected to mention to the Blade.

And of course, the universe being what it is, this happens while Keith’s there.

“How long until the storm passes?” he asks.

The Queen looks apologetic as she answers. “We cannot tell. The longest has been...3 of your weeks. The shortest mere hours. I do not think, judging by the heaviness of the storm, it will be as long as a week but we will keep you comfortable in your time here.”

Keith knows there is little else she can do, so thanks her before relaying the news to his team. They immediately begin trying to see if they can boost the signals on their communications devices, but of course it’s an exercise in futility.

“Days without contact. Not good,” Ezor comments and Keith nods.

“Lance is gonna panic,” he mutters. He looks up at Acxa. “Veronica too.”

She nods but says nothing. There isn’t anything they can do so instead they try to distract themselves. They provide the supplies needed and aid in other areas; most importantly they start working on a device which can predict the storms, and in the three days it takes for it to pass, they have a workable blueprint.

As soon as the storm clears through, their communication devices almost explode with messages.

Ezor informs base they are safe, leaving the rest of them to deal with personal messages.

Keith has several, but as they quickly start up their crafts for the flight home, he receives a call. He answers, a little surprised to see two figures on the screen.

“Mum? Lance?”

“Keith. Finally,” Krolia says, and Lance exhales once. Both look drawn, worried and Keith’s guilt falls like an avalanche in his stomach, heavy and brutal. But the relief is also clear, their face’s visibly lighting up as Keith walks.

“We only just got comms back,” he explains, keeping his device on as he enters the plane. Krolia nods.

“I’m aware, we’re on the base. We’ve been searching for you since the lines went dead, but it became apparent after the first day what was happening. It’s good to see you well, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry, mum. Promise, we’re fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He sits down in the pilot seat, and transfers the connection to the crafts comms. His mother and Lance’s faces appear larger next to him. He offers them a smile as they appear. Lance is closer now, smile lighting up the dim interior of the craft, although that is probably just Keith’s mind conjuring the effect.

“Just have to dramatic don’t you, Mullet? Can’t go a month without something happening,” Lance teases, although it is soft, testing, ensuring Keith really is alright.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Do you even have permission to fly this far? Talk about dramatics.”

“Excuse me for worrying about my boyfriend! And those rules are more like guidelines,” Lance waves him off, smirk in place.

“That means no.”

“Alright, enough. Keith, fly safely. We’ll be tracking you. If you come into any difficulty, let us know.” Krolia says, but gives Lance a fond look as she speaks, which Keith catches.

Something about that exchange, the ease and the knowledge his mother and boyfriend get on fills him with a new frequency of happiness. The coming together of parts of his world, of the fragments of love he’s still learning to manage meeting and caring. It’s a lot. A wonderful lot, spilling over the brim and leaking into his smile.

Keith starts the craft up and does his final checks, taking his eye off the screen to do so.

“Okay, I’m heading off. I’ll be an hour.”

Krolia nods, an edge of a smile visible through the professionalism. “We’ll be there. I love you, Keith.”

“I love you too, mum. Lance, I’ll see you soon. I love you,” he says, voice wavering as he launches. It’s still odd saying those words with an audience, and the emotion from a moment ago has him wavering in general.

His mum has moved over, and blue eyes framed by crescent marks are all he can glimpse as he takes off.

“Hurry back, Keith. I love you.”

The comms cut out and Keith sighs, flying fast and clear off the planet, no sign of the storm ever existing. Once he’s cruising, he lets his thoughts fly free.

He knew they would be worried, but it’s good to see the problem was understood before too much panic set in. Lance has already lost one partner, and Keith had just vanished, disappeared without a trace for three days straight. Traumatising enough in general but considering their pasts, all that much more triggering.

He remembers losing Shiro twice, what that did to him. The cruelty of the double play, the way the feelings maximised by a thousand on having to go through the same actions, the same reactions. But it seemed to magnify the experience, making it worse because in between he’d found again, hoped again and the loss was more than overwhelming.

He hopes Lance isn’t covering, wasn’t too afraid initially. Keith still feels a little shaken himself, and he’s been blocking out any hints of negativity thought the past few days. As he enters the base though, the creeping sadness ebs instantly on seeing his loved ones.

Once he’s inside, Lance literally runs at him, lands in his arms and Keith pulls him close and can’t help but swing him round once. Lance squawks and breaks away, looking around embarrassed, and Keith may be a little giddy from being stranded.

“Okay, I’m never coming to help rescue you again,” Lance mutters, but wraps their fingers together as they walk.

“How were you planning on rescuing me from a planet no one could get in or out of?” he asks, laughing. Lance pouts.

“That’s not the point, just. Urg. Way to ruin this Keith, the mood is gone.”

Krolia appears before he can think of an answer. Keith is wrapped in another strong hug, her hand coming to cradle the back of his head, in a comfort he feels carved through his bones.

“Good to have you back,” is all she says as they part, relief clear. He nods, and then Kosmo is just there, leaping up and Keith laughs again, his family complete and everything back as it should be. The spiraling feeling from before resurfaces, every part of him tingling with the knowledge of having people here to miss him, to greet him and worry over him.

He’s swept into a briefing only a minute later. It doesn’t last long, but it’s standard procedure and cumbersome. So by the time he escapes, it’s been hours since he first made contact and he’s completely done with anything to do with the ridiculous planet.

He exits the briefing room, yawning and Krolia is there. He smiles and she gives him another hug in greeting.

“It’s been too long since I saw you.”

He nods and they begin to walk together. “I know. I’ve missed you. Time seems to pass by too quickly,” he says and she agrees before continuing, answering his unspoken question.

“Lance is waiting in your room. You should go to him, you look exhausted. You should also call Shiro when you get a chance.”

Keith closes his eyes and stops, guilt increasing. In his gladness to be back with them, he’d forgotten initially he’d been a missing person, and the concern this must have produced.

His mother reads the expression though.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have done anything. But Lance loves you, he was bound to worry. He flew over here as fast as he could, as soon as he heard you lost touch.”

Keith drags a hand down his face. “I know, I just hate that I couldn’t even stop the worry for him. For all of you.”

Krolia shakes her head. “We all understand, we’ve been there. It is an awful feeling, but you did all you could, and these things are bound to happen. It’s a side effect of the path we’ve picked.”

She smiles down at him, then ruffles his hair. He wonders if it is something she did for him as a child, something he does not remember, although it seems natural to her.  

“Go, Keith. We’ll catch up in the morning.”

And Keith is so grateful for her, as although his mum has always been strong, she’s lost so much herself. She made choices to protect her family, thinking to have lost them forever, had done so with the man she loved. He still isn’t used to her affections, having a mother back after living without any knowledge of her for so long.

All this love from different places, it’s hard to categories.

He speeds to his room, bursts through the door and sees Lance turn, Kosmo stretched out on his lap. The sight is more homely to him than anything he’s seen in years, and he feels suddenly the last few days collapse on him; the concern for others but also the nagging worry perhaps the storm would last longer or leave him stranded, never to see his family, friends or Lance again.

He’s in Lance’s arms before he even realises, Kosmo nuzzling into his side as well. Lance hugs back, but seems startled at the suddenness.

“Whoa, hey babe. It’s okay, you’re back, Keith,” Lance says, just knowing how he’s feeling without words.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, hands curling in Lance’s jacket, relaxing into the hold.

“It wasn’t your fault, don’t apologise,” Lance says lightly. He doesn’t seem too upset, but Keith looks up to check. Lance meets his eyes, skin creasing slightly at the corners, mouth turned up and posture calm.

Lance leans in to rest his forehead against Keith’s, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as he moves. It’s Keith’s favourite touch, and Lance knows this, bringing him his ideal comfort. They part, and Keith just looks at him, taking him in and keeping him in his sight.

“How are you doing? What was it like?” Lance asks, moving so they sit in a more comfortable position, side by side on the bed. Kosmo settles down, partly on both of them, taking up the space between.

Keith sighs and leans his head back against the wall as his boyfriend laces their fingers together. He turns to face Lance.

“It was fine, we weren’t in any danger. Just...cut off. They were reassuring but part of me wondered each morning if it would clear. If I’d be stuck, if I could trust them. I’m tired, so tired. And glad to be back with you.”

Lance stares back, eyes equally tired but clear, squeezing Keith’s hand. Keith leans down to rest his head on Lance’s shoulder, finally feeling calmer than he had in days.

Lance puffs out a steam of air.

“You know, this reminds me a bit of being back with Voltron. One of us goes on a mission, it inevitably goes wrong. Feeling amazing when you reunite, then crashing hard once it all sinks in.”

Keith hums in agreement. “You didn’t used to run into my arms when I returned though,” he says with a smirk.

Lance pushes him off his shoulder, arms flailing. “I’m never being happy to see you again, Mullet. Never.”

Kosmo teleports to the otherside of the room, obviously sensing he’ll be disrupted if he stays.

“So happy I cradle you in my ar-”

“If you say bonding moment, I swear Keith!” he yells but his laughter rings around the room and Keith is smiling so hard it hurts.

Because it isn’t always like this. They aren’t defenders of the universe anymore, the Blade has changed it’s operations completely but it’s still a dangerous occupation. Space is dangerous, it always will be. He can’t say or do anything to stop that, or to promise he won’t get hurt, will always come back. Sometimes people don’t, as they know well. But he has so much reason to fight to return, more than ever before. Lance is one part of it.

So he just teases Lance, watches him stutter and reply blow for blow until Keith is just as flustered. He revels in a good day, a joyus return, and the love from those around him.

“Kitchen’s done, babe.”

Keith glares from the floor as Lance stands, triumphant, in front of a pristine kitchen. Keith points a screwdriver at him.

“That’s cheating. This is much harder,” he says, pieces of the half built bookcase still scattered around.

“Not with the amount of mugs we have!”

“ You , Lance you have over 20 mugs, I only own two!”

Lance has more stuff than he did when he moved in, and the rest of the afternoon will probably be a painful exchange of compromise and shifting around bits and pieces to fit them both in. They only have the weekend, Lance starts teaching on Monday and the apartment will probably still be in slight shambles from their attempts to hastily put things together when he runs out the door.  Arguments will undoubtedly ensue. Something will get broken, and they’ll definitely need to order take out after trying to put a bookcase together.

But then, after all that, they’ll be living together.

The delirious queasiness of excitement and terror fills him. Because this is the final test really. Can they live together? Not in dorms, not in a ship with five others trying to save the world but them, as a couple. They’ve spent a lot of time together but the nitty gritty of how you clean a bathroom, how long it takes you hang up clothes after they’re washed, if you leave shoes lying around. That can actually tip the scale at an alarming rate.

But Keith is ready for that, and ready to adapt to this new stage. Because this little place, with the window seat and the lopsided table is his. He returns to it with every journey back and now he gets to return to Lance too at the same time.

“I can’t believe you only have two mugs, Keith. Anyway, that still puts me at three rooms while you’ve failed to do this monstrosity. Face it, you’re just not a mover.”

Keith sits back and relents, Lance coming to sit down next to him. He kisses Keith’s cheek absently as he picks up the manual. Keith stares for a second, just reveling in the moment, when Lance suddenly looks up.

“Oh, I nearly forgot!”

Then he’s up, sprinting away and rummage through the boxes still stacked around the room. Keith watches in muted horror as Lance digs through, discarding bits and pieces on his quest, placing them haphazardly around. Keith just turns away; it’s going to be chaos no matter what. Kosmo, lying down in the opposite corner of the room half asleep raises his head at the disruption, but soon goes back to his slumber. Keith grins, feeling as if his wolf has just accepted this is Lance, and isn’t affected by the sudden noise and flurries of movement.

“Here we are!”

Lance is back, almost flies onto the floor, hair array and eyes bright. He hands over a large rectangle to Keith, who frowns in confusion. He looks down, and his breath hitches.

It’s a framed copy of the photo Hunk had taken on the day of Lance’s first flight. It’s been blown up, but the quality is still good, their twin smiles the centre of the image.He recalls the pride and love of that day like no time has past; it is so evident in their expressions in the photo.

This is his favourite picture. He knows Lance will say ‘so far’ if he vocalises it, but Keith doesn’t ever think he can top that day.

He laughs suddenly as he notices the frame; gaudy in red glitter, tiny little cat and dog stickers surrounding it. Lance giggles along with him as Keith’s hands trace the outlines.

“Rachel printed the photo. But my niece got to make the frame.”

“I love it,” Keith says, turning to Lance, whose smile gets impossibly brighter with the declaration.

“Me too. You were right, it is a great photo.”

Keith melts, sinks a little into that, into the truth shining out of the statement. For Lance had hated that picture before, barely been able to stand it or any other images. Keith has a few more photos of the two of them now, but they were still easing into it as Lance gained confidence in seeing himself again. Photos of anyone close to him were important, he’d not had that luxury growing up, while Lance could barely move for them. It was a simple thing Keith loves, having these moments, these people to capture. And Lance being part of it is essential

“We should put up more pictures. You always complain that wall is too bare.”

Lance nods, considering. Keith gets up and places the photo on the mantelpiece, the only item there so far.

“We can have that one of you and Shiro, when you got into the Garrison. That’s cute, he has like fifty copies so I think he can spare one.”

Keith turns and groans, walking back to sit beside Lance.  He hates that photo and Lance knows it.

“Fine. And the ones you took at your brother’s birthday,” he offers. Lance grins.

“Definitely. We need some of Pidge and Hunk too. And you and your mum.”

“And Kosmo,” Keith answers. His watches as the wolf’s ears perk up, but he stays otherwise asleep.

“Yes Keith, we will fill your house with photos of your dog, I promise.” Lance deadpans and Keith nudges him.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love him. You were always taking photos in space, we have to have some of those.”

And Lance’s eyes light up and Keith’s body feels warm as they’re getting to a point where Lance can not only talk about that time more freely, but actively remembers the good parts. He’s getting there; the gaunt look is faded, and the shadows under his eyes are less deep. The nightmares still come, but so do Keith’s and they manage their own personal struggles together. In this, like all else, they are a good team.

“I have sooo many good ones, yes! Keith, this will be a mission buddy, hope you’re ready!”

Keith grins, because he is. But there’s one last name to mention.

“We need some of Allura, too.”

And Lance’s smile does not die, but changes. It’s fond and sad, wistful but happy. Keith finds himself aching a little then, as she will always be such a huge piece of their lives gone, in so many ways. But seeing Lance react that way, not torn apart with the suggestion, gives him hope that the pain is morphing, moving into something that can be lived with.

“Yes. We’ll have pictures of the Princess.”

Lance turns and kisses the top of Keith’s head, lips lingering.

“Right, Mullet Man. Wanna bet who can put this together fastest?” Lance says, grabbing his own screwdriver and starting on his own separate section.

Keith grins, the wild thrill of the familiar back and forward causing him to grab the next two pieces, fit them on and smirk as Lance looks confusedly at the instructions.

“It’s pretty obvious who’ll win, but fine, if you’re up for loosing.”

In the end neither of them can make the bookcase, and it just stays in a heap while they sit with take out on the sofa, still arguing over whose part is more stable, no winner declared. And Keith loves it, his first night in their home.  

Because anywhere he is with Lance is home.