Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Pass, set, hit.

    Bump, set, spike.

    Pass, set, kill.

    Whatever you called it, it was what Lance had done for a majority of his life. He could play any position, but his best was setting. His sets were beautiful each and every time he pushed one up. No matter where he put it, it was perfect. Whether it was an outside 14 for Pidge, a middle 52 for Allura, or a back 93 for Matt, it was gorgeous.

    Lance was a very decent hitter as well, but he didn’t like it as much as setting, tipping, and blocking most of the time. He liked the skill he put into it; the grace he emitted. So did the audience. Everyone in the stands ogled at the way he smoothly guided the ball into the air, or how sharp and precise his tips were. His tips were beyond shocking. He would float in the air like there was zero gravity and flick his wrist as fast as lightning in whichever direction he pleased, sending the ball straight down.

    A majority of their points were scored on Lance’s behalf. He set the hitters up perfectly, and even adjusted to all of their preferences as far as ball height and length. Once he had them all figured out, Altea High was unstoppable.

    “14!” Pidge shouted to Lance. He grinned and positioned himself under the ball, then delicately launched it up; perfect for all of Pidge’s hitting desires. She moved her feet forward, left, right left, and jumped up, then swung her arm forward, flicking her wrist, and sending the ball down sharply on the other side of the court, grunting while she did so.

    “Yeah, Pidge!” Allura high-fived the shorter girl. They laughed and Lance walked over, picking Pidge up into a crushing hug.

    “You did it! Oh gosh, you’ve been practicing with your wrist! Pidge, I’m so proud of you, this is great!” Lance spun her around in a circle, then put her down. She grinned sheepishly and punched Lance’s shoulder lightly.

    “Shut up,” she grumbled. Lance smiled and ruffled her hair a tiny bit. Hunk walked over and clapped Lance on the shoulder.

    “Gorgeous set,” Hunk commented, “as always.” Lance blushed. He got those compliments all the time, but hearing it still made him flustered. It made him feel better about himself.

    “Thanks, Hunk,” Lance flashed his beautiful 10,000 mega-watt smile. The rest of the team bombarded Lance with compliments and pats on the back.

    “The finest setter in the country,” Matt gestured with his hands. “You’re amazing, man.” Pidge smiled and nodded.

    “I mean, seriously,” she replied. “You know all of our favorite sets, you know exactly where to place the ball, your sail sets are absolutely perfect, and your tips are deadly.” Lance blushed further and linked his hands behind his back.

    “T-Thanks, guys,” Lance grinned. “I like to know that I’m doing it right. If I ever need to change something let me know.” Allura scoffed and crossed her arms.

    “Lance, that’s why we say ‘sail’ or 93,” she commented. Lance raised a brow.

    “No, I meant if the height or length wasn’t right, not the position,” Lance replied in confusion. Allura raised a brow and smirked.

    “Well that’s highly unlikely,” she commented. “Your sets have always been perfect. I doubt anything is going to change now.” Lance smiled softly and flicked Allura’s arm, making her shoot a toothy grin.

    “I love all of you,” Lance sighed, wiping a fake tear from his right eye. They all fist-bumped and smiled at one another.

    “Alright, team!” Coran shouted. “Nice run-through on that drill. Now, I want the same pass, set, hit, but Lance, do something different and random with the ball every time.” Lance grinned and nodded. He loved this part.

    Coran tossed a ball in the court like a free-ball, and Shiro called it. He stepped up and passed it to Lance, who grinned as it seemed as if time was slowing down.

    “93!” Lance shouted, and Matt ran up to position. Lance set the ball behind him, and Matt performed his approach, his arms swinging forward and wrist snapping down. The ball hit the floor with great force. The team cheered and they repositioned.

     Coran threw another ball in and Pidge called it. Lance positioned under the ball and a thought instantly clicked into his brain.

    “Back, Shiro!” Lance called. Shiro waited in his spot as Lance set the ball toward the left backside of the court. He watched as Shiro approached and went up, then snapped his wrist, sending the ball down perfectly.

    Coran tossed another ball in. Hunk called it and passed to Lance, who again waited beneath the ball.

    “4, sail!” Lance shouted. He heard Pidge’s whoop of excitement and he set the ball short and just past Allura’s position in middle. Pidge went up quick and fast, snapping through and sending the ball no further than the ten foot line.

    Coran threw yet another ball in, and Lance and Allura made quick eye-contact, having a brief conversation within them. Allura grinned and passed the ball a little too close to the net, allowing Lance to go up and meet the ball mid-air with his fingertips, then flicking his wrist forcefully and sending it straight down right behind him. Him and Allura high-fived and whooped.

    Coran threw another ball to Allura, already knowing that her and Lance had something planned out. Lance got under the ball and readied his hands.

    “52!” Lance called out. Allura was already positioned. He set it up short and right in the middle, exactly where it needed to be. Allura approached and went up, then smacked the ball downward with a loud grunt. Lance and Allura high-fived. Volleyball had brought them very close, making their friendship strong.

    Coran threw one last ball in, directly to Lance. He grinned happily and passed the ball to Allura, who was a secondary setter and primary middle hitter.

    “Back to me!” Lance positioned in back’s hitting position and Allura set the ball up. It was a nice set, Lance could tell she had been practicing her placement. He approached aggressively and went up, hitting the ball down with a loud grunt of his own, sending the ball right in a dead spot between middle back and middle front. Allura cheered and the rest of the team followed, attacking Lance with a large hug.

    “You’ve still got it!” Shiro ruffled his hair wildly, and Lance laughed. They all crowded him with cheers and pats on his back.

    “Well what do you know,” Pidge grinned. “Mister Graceful-as-royalty-himself can still hit a ball like he wants to kill someone. Nice job.” Lance smiled and fist-bumped Pidge. Coran smiled and slung his arm around Lance.

    “My boy,” Coran sighed happily, “you are a wonder. I’m so glad to have you on this team, and to even have been gifted the chance to work with you. You are singlehandedly the best setter I have ever come across. You can do anything I ask you. Even when it’s not setting. I’m so proud of you.” Lance’s eyes widened and he felt his eyes well up with dampness.

    “Jeez, Coran,” Lance sniffled and covered his face. “Now I’m crying.” Coran patted his back and let out a small laugh. Lance wiped his eyes and dried the small-oncoming of tears.

    “Alright, team,” Coran grinned proudly, “who do we play tomorrow?” The team grinned maniacally, a signature threatening look of theirs.

    “Marmora!” they all shouted simultaneously. They all put their hands together in the circle and waited to dismiss.

    “Who are we gonna pound into this very gym floor?” Coran asked again.

    “Marmora!”

    “Who are we?”

    “Altea Lions!”

    “What team?”

    “Lions!”

    “Lions on three!” Lance shouted. They all smiled and joined Lance on the next part.

    “One, two, three, Lions!” they all chorused. Their hands flew up into the air from their circle and they parted to go pack their bags.

    The team followed one another over to the bleachers.

    “So, Lance,” Shiro began, “how about that number 12? The one that plays for Marmora?” Lance blushed and crossed his arms.

    “Yeah,” Matt chimed in. “Are you going to just daydream about him from afar or are you going to get his name and number this time?” Lance blushed even darker and shoved Matt.

    “Shut up!” Lance shouted. “And I don’t daydream. I never get distracted during a game.” Matt shrugged.

    “Oh, trust me, I know,” Matt replied. “Your concentration is like stone. But when their team walks in, is warming up, or when the game is over, your eyes are glued to him.” Lance looked down and groaned.

    “Don’t fight it!” Allura advised. “Embrace the love! And Lance, I swear to god if you don’t get his number this time I’m going to get it for you and tell him about your mindless ogling.” Lance shrieked and grabbed Allura by the shoulders.

    “You wouldn’t dare,” he spoke quietly.

    “Oh, I would,” she smirked and narrowed her eyes. Lance’s eyes went wide and he gulped. Okay, so he had to get the cute guy’s number himself.

    “Fine,” Lance dragged out. Pidge rolled her eyes and smacked his arm.

    “Oh, don’t act like he hasn’t been looking at you, too!” she remarked. Lance’s eyes shot over to her, and she snorted as he did so.

    “What?” he shouted in disbelief. Pidge smiled.

    “Lance, he looks at you, too,” Pidge laughed. “I don’t know about you guys, but I see it happen all the time.” Lance gaped and turned to face the team.

    “Okay,” he pointed a finger at all of them. “Who saw number 12 looking at me?” They all raised their right hands, even Coran all the way across the court with the cart of volleyballs. “You too, Coran?”

    “We’ve watched hopeless pining for three years now,” Shiro commented. When we played them a few weeks ago, that’s why we were eyeing you the entire time. You were both looking at each other when the other wasn’t.” Lance groaned and turned to pack his bag.

    “This is stupid,” Lance groaned louder. Hunk patted Lance’s back and stood beside him to pack his own things, the others moving to do the same.

    “If it makes you feel any better, buddy,” Hunk commented, “I didn’t interfere so you could talk to him on your own time.” Lance smiled and patted Hunk’s shoulder.

    “Yeah,” Lance sighed. “See you all tomorrow!” They all waved goodbye to him as he made his way out the door.

     The only thing on Lance’s mind all the way home was Marmora, number 12, dark hair tied into a ponytail, and gorgeous purple eyes.

    I gotta find out who he is, Lance thought, or I’m gonna have a heart attack.

Chapter Text

    “Hey guys!” Lance called to his teammates, who were putting on their gear. They smiled and waved at their beloved setter.

    “Hello, Lance!” Allura beamed, and he returned it with a fond smile. He would miss Allura when he went off to college. She was truly an angel and the best friend he had made in high school after Hunk and Pidge.

    “How’s our favorite setter?” Pidge asked as she slapped his shoulder. He winced a little and tapped her nose.

    “Well, I feel spick and span. How’s our favorite midget outside hitter?” he tossed back, and she gasped softly, then nudged his shin with her foot.

    Lance smiled yet again and began to pull his kneepads onto his ankles, then put on his shoes, letting the kneepads rest just above the footwear. His ankle braces fit snugly into his shoes, and he loved how it made him feel stable. He had anxiety, and the ankle thing was silly, yes, but he liked the reassurance.

    “Hey, Lance,” Allura trotted up to him. “Would you like to pepper with me? It seems our usuals have already found different partners.” Lance already knew why they had done this.

    “Sure, Allura,” Lance smiled. “I know this game you’re all playing but yeah, sure.” Allura grinned mischievously at him and Lance grinned through gritted teeth.

    Every time they played Marmora, they would pair Lance and Allura because they played so accurately and flawlessly. They were both aggressive and challenged one another. It made them look like they were an insanely good team. When the rest of their players saw Lance and Allura picking up a groove and doing so seamlessly, it encouraged them all to play their best warming up.

    That was one reason.

    The second reason was that they all claimed that when Lance and Allura were peppering, number 12 would watch nearly the entire time. Lance didn’t think he did, but Shiro would always walk over nearly wheezing of laughter and pointing at Lance and Allura.

    Allura walked over to the cart filled with volleyballs and squeezed each one between her palms before she found one that was just right, then made her way back over to Lance.

    “You ready, Tailor?” she asked, a familiar challenging glint sparkling in her eyes. Lance smirked and flicked the volleyball.

    “As always, Princess,” he returned, and she laughed lightly. Lance was called the Tailor because of when he set the ball, it was perfect. Almost like placing a thread through a needle easily, and then the hitter found the “hole” in the court and proved his accuracy correct.

    They headed over to the inside of the court, closest to the net. Lance rolled his eyes as Allura laughed deviously. She tossed him the ball and he passed it to her, in which she set it to him. He grinned from the feeling it gave him, and sent it down, a perfectly placed hit. Allura passed it back up with ease and Lance grinned even wider as he placed himself to set it. His hands met the ball and he pushed it up gracefully, allowing Allura to send the ball back down to Lance, who also returned a perfect pass.

    Every pass, set, and hit was like euphoria to Lance. It sent happy shocks through his body, tingling throughout his veins.

    Lance saw Allura change her positioning and he followed it, chasing the push she had sent about twenty feet back. He chased it and dove right at the end, sending a beautiful pass back over to her. He smiled and laughed in shock.

    “Nice, Lance!” Allura shouted to him. He shot a thumbs up and his grin widened. He watched as Allura held the ball closer to her and covered her mouth, trying to suppress what seemed like a giggle. Lance raised a brow and noticed the hand extended toward him. He looked up at met shimmering purple eyes.

    “Need a hand?” the voice belonging to them asked. Lance took in all of his features, then came to a short realization. This was number 12.

    “Y-Yeah, uh, sure,” Lance managed to say. The other player held Lance’s hand firmly and hoisted him up.

    “That was a gorgeous pass, by the way,” the guy told him. Lance’s face swarmed with heat and he looked at his shoes, away from those tempting eyes.

    “Nowhere near as gorgeous as you,” Lance mumbled, but it was audible.

    “W-What?” the other guy asked nervously, but Lance was quicker on his feet than that.

    “I said,” Lance stepped closer and wore a challenging smirk. “Always better than what you could do.” The other guy grinned and snatched the collar of Lance’s jersey, bringing his ear close to the guy’s mouth.

    “Try me,” he gritted out lowly. “I’m the best left-side hitter in this entire state and the surrounding ones.” Lance smiled and pushed away.

    “I’m the best setter within those same areas,” he chuckled. “Too bad we clash attitude wise, we could’ve been a good team.” The guy rolled his eyes and pushed past Lance to make his way to the benches.

    Lance scoffed and shook his head, making his way over to Allura, who was wearing a frown.

    “What?” he asked innocently as he stopped right in front of her. She raised a brow and stuck her bottom lip out with impatience.

    “Lance, don’t think I couldn’t tell what you were saying,” she grumbled. “You literally told him he probably sucked when you know for a fact he’s amazing.” Lance shrugged and began letting his nerves take over.

    “Allura, I freaked out,” he began. “Cute boy helped me up, Allura! Cute boy helped me up. What was I supposed to do?” Allura slapped her hands against her thighs and then stuck them out in a wild gesture.

    “Compliment him?” Allura nearly shouted. “At least acknowledge that you could’ve gotten his number?” Lance felt his face flush with embarrassment.

    “Shoot,” he cringed at himself and snuck a peek at number 12. He was angrily strapping his ankle braces and snarling. Lance looked back to Allura, who shrugged and then looked over to the guy again. “Oh, no, Allura, heck no.” He walked over to the cushioned chairs on the sideline and sat in the front one, taking his water out of his backpack and taking a huge swig.

     The ref blew his whistle and called for captains. Coran looked over to Lance and waved him over.

    “Lance! You’re the captain this game!” Lance nodded and trotted over, high-fiving Coran on his way over. Lance stood to the left of the referee and waited for Marmora’s captain to stroll over. When Lance looked back up from his shoes, he saw number 12 right there across from him. Their captain.

    “Alright, boys, introduce yourselves,” the ref suggested to both of them. Lance looked up apologetically at the guy, but he just creased his brows in further and extended his hand.

    “Keith,” the guy spoke. Lance melted at it and almost felt himself sink into a puddle of his own mush.

    “Huh?” Lance asked, and Keith shook his hand between them, showing Lance where it was, and he grinned a little at Lance’s small slip up.

    “My name’s Keith,” he repeated. Lance’s mouth made an “o” shape and he extended his hand quickly to shake hands with number—Keith. His name was Keith.

    “I’m Lance,” he replied sheepishly. “Lance McClain.” Keith nodded and his eyebrows shot up, acknowledging Lance’s awkwardness. Lance felt his blush creep up to his face and he knew Keith noticed it. He could feel the red practically bursting off of his face.

    “Alright, boys,” the ref sighed, “same rules as always. If it hits the ceiling, play it. If it hits the goals, play it. No profanities, no arguing with the other teams, no carries, no lifts, basics like that. You know how this works. Any issues, come to me.” Keith nodded and placed his hands on his hips, licking his top lip. Lance watched this very intently.

    “Yessir,” Lance replied the smoothest he had the entire day. The ref patted Lance on the shoulder and presented a coin.

    “Alright, whattdya call, McClain?” he asked. Lance smiled and crossed his arms.

    “Tails,” he licked his lips and pursed them. The ref took the coin and flipped it in the air, then smacked it against his palm. When he opened his hand, the coin was...

    Tails.

    Lance had learned that if you get to call the side, choose tails. It was always the winner. Keith nodded and looked to Lance, who was grinning proudly.

    “Serve or receive, McClain?” the ref asked. Lance lightly punched the ref’s shoulder and smiled.

    “What do you think, Luis, I always choose serve,” Lance laughed. Okay, so the ref was Lance’s older brother Luis. So? It didn’t change anything, Luis never called anything in Lance’s favor. In fact, he tried his best to single Lance out and call most of the fouls on him.

    “Alright, Lions get the court for the first five minutes, then Marmora, it’s all yours,” Luis gestured from Lance to Keith, and they rushed to their specific positions.

    Lance rushed out to the setter’s spot and took position. Coran wheeled over the cart full of volleyballs and waited for Shiro, Allura, Pidge, Hunk, and Matt to line up.

    Shiro and Hunk stayed in back row to pass to Lance. Pidge went to left side, Allura went to middle, and Matt went to right side. Coran tossed a ball to Shiro, who passed the ball to Lance, who set it to Pidge, then Allura, then Matt. Then Hunk passed the ball to Lance, and Lance set the ball to Pidge, Allura, and Matt, and so forth.

    This went on about two more times, then Coran passed a ball to Shiro, who jumped up and hit it, and the same for Hunk.

    “Alright, Lance, get on right side, and hit some,” Coran winked at him. “I know you want to hit some down.” Lance grinned and ran to stand behind Matt.

    “Oh my gosh, Matt, I’m gonna pee my pants!” Lance jumped around excitedly. Matt laughed and smacked his shoulder.

    “Why?” he asked with a chuckle.

    “Coran never lets me do this!” Lance grinned. “Matt, he’s letting me do this!” Matt laughed and turned around to do his handshake with Lance.

    “Aw yeah, man!” Matt smacked Lance’s palm at the end of their handshake and Lance laughed. Matt turned around and waited for Coran to finish tossing to middle, then positioned himself when Coran threw the ball up in the air.

    Lance waited for Matt to finish and then took position. He felt the energy surging through his bones as he bounced on his toes, and nodded to Coran. He tossed the ball up just how Lance liked it and Lance did his approach, but everything felt like it was in slow motion.

    Left...

    Right, left.

    And he was up in the air, floating, his right arm coming up and around, tracking the ball and swinging down, snapping his wrist right above the ball, and then everything was back to normal speed.

    And the ball?

    It traveled right to the center of the court, making a loud “boom” noise when it made contact with the floor. Lance jumped up in the air and smiled, and Matt tackled him.

    “Lance! Holy crap, Lance you did it!” Matt smacked Lance’s shoulder repeatedly. Allura shouted and ran over to him, punching his core. Pidge smacked him on the back and laughed. Shiro smiled and Hunk high-fived him.

    “Hey! Little bro!” Luis shouted from the ref’s stand. “That was a great hit, and I also got it on camera because the school wanted to record this entire game and warmup, so you’re welcome for that. Also, one minute, serve time!” Lance laughed and shot finger-guns at Luis, picking up a ball from the ground.

    After Lance got all of his jump-serves in, he picked up all of the surrounding balls and placed them in the cart. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked over, his eyes meeting dark purple-ish ones.

    “Hey, uh,” Keith began while rocking on his feet. “That was a nice hit. I didn’t know you knew how.” Lance laughed and lightly shoved Keith’s shoulder playfully.

    “We learn things every day, yeah?” he smiled. “I’ll see you on the court, Keith.” He waved and ran to catch up with his team, his smile never leaving his face.

    “Lance!” Coran shouted from the team circle. “Sha-bing! Sha-bang! Sha-boom! You have never hit a ball that hard, son! I was scared for the floor’s life.” Lance laughed and shook his head.

    “Just had to let out all that pent up former hitter’s anger, right?” Lance replied with a chuckle. Pidge threw her arms up in the air as her eyes went wide.

    “Amen, Lance,” she ground out almost desperately. The group laughed and gathered in a huddle.

    “Hey, team,” Lance looked every one of them in the eyes, “we got this. Easy breezy.” Everyone nodded and patted each other’s backs in sync, then split to watch Marmora’s team hit.

    Lance locked onto Keith, who was waiting at outside, then watched intently as he went up with a strong approach, and hit the ball down so fast all you could see was a blur. This was no exaggeration. He literally hit the ball with so much force that your eyes couldn’t lock onto the ball. It was that fast.

    “Well, I think I just crapped my pants,” Hunk stared bug-eyed at the spot where it landed.

Chapter Text

    Shiro laughed and patted Hunk’s back. “Relax, Hunk, we’ll be fine,” Shiro assured him. “Matt, stop looking at the floor like that, you’re actually gonna get sick.” Lance looked over to see Matt staring at the floor with a pale face.

    “Matt, you’re not even going to have to pass that, you’ll be blocking,” Lance replied. “You only have to pass it when you play back for serve receive.” Matt gulped at looked at Lance with huge eyes.

    “I have to block that,” Matt exclaimed. “He’s gonna break my hands! Just imagine his serves, Lance.” Lance rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips.

    “Do I need to remind you that we’ve played this same exact team before?” Pidge asked him.

    “Oh,” Matt laughed. “Yeah, I forgot.” Lance groaned and face-palmed.

    Lance watched them warming up and felt an arm sling around his shoulders. Matt.

    “You got this, Lance,” Matt assured him. Lance shrugged.

    “We’ve played them before, it’s not a biggie,” Lance replied easily.

    “No, I mean,” Matt laughed and hugged Lance a little closer. “Keith. You can definitely talk to him.” Lance looked over to Matt and smiled in thanks. When he looked back over, Keith was hardcore glaring at Matt and his arm.

    Why was Keith glaring? Did he have something against Matt? Lance watched as Keith stared directly at Matt’s arm slug around Lance until his coach told him to get ready. Keith snarled and went up to hit angrily. He smacked the ball down and grunted as he did so, giving the ball an extra punch.

    “Um, what pushed his buttons?” Matt asked with a little bit of sass. Lance heard a snort and turned around to see Shiro suppressing laughter.

    “Shiro, you good?” Lance asked. Shiro nodded and waved him off, then turned around to laugh loudly into the crook of his arm. Lance shrugged again and turned to watch Keith serve. As always, it was literally stunning. Form and all. After Keith got about five serves in, Marmora’s time was up.

    “Alright, game time!” Matt shouted as he threw his arms up. Lance brought the team into a circle and they all put one fist into the air.

    “Right here, Lions,” Lance told them. “We got this.” They all nodded and Lance grinned. “Lions on three! One, two, three-“

    “Lions!”

    They rushed out onto the court and lined up, then ran across the edge of the court line to meet Marmora in the middle of the net, wishing each other good luck like a litany and smacking palms. When Lance got to Keith, he met eyes with him and smiled.

    “Good luck, Keith,” Lance grinned and watched as those purple eyes swam with wonder.

    “Good luck, Lance,” Keith smiled back, then they rushed to their spots. The ball was tossed to Hunk by the line judge, none other than Romelle.

    “Hey, you got it, Hunk,” Lance shouted to him. “Start us off right here!” Luis blew the whistle and Hunk tossed the ball up, then sent it over with a loud smack and a clear pass over the net. Lance was constantly rambling off, talking to his team.

    “Down! Middle down!” Lance shouted to his team, who readied for the hit. Allura set her jaw and squared up, then jumped up for a block, the ball smacking her palms and going to Hunk’s side.

    “Touch!” Allura shouted. Hunk stepped forward and passed the ball to Lance, who set it up to Pidge.

    “Down, Pidge, down!” Lance shouted to her, and she jumped up, smacking the ball down. Lance watched as their libero made a huge save and passed it back up to the setter.

    “Hit, guys!” Lance shouted. He watched as the setter squared and bared their hands. “Outside! Set’s going outside!” The ball went up, and surely, to Keith’s side. “Pass up, guys! No drop!” Keith sent the ball down and Shiro moved his arms as fast as lightning to pass the ball up, which went to the middle position.

    “93!” Lance shouted. Matt ran up and hit the ball down, Marmora’s libero not making it in time.

    They all shouted and met in the middle, praising one another.

    “Alright, Hunk, keep it up,” Lance patted his shoulder. “We got this.”

Chapter Text

    The score was 28 to 28, Altea Lions winning the first set and then now on their second. The first game was a breeze, and Altea won 12 to 25. And now, Marmora had the ball. The entire game had been chaotic. It was supposed to end at 25, but you had to win by two points. So when Altea had gotten to 25, Marmora was at 24. It went on and on with one-point spaced scores.

    “Alright, Lions,” Lance told them in their huddle, “we need to end this. Get the ball back, then this is done. They can’t score anymore. Allura, hands spread out on that block; get up tall. Shiro, stay squared, don’t get stressed out. Hunk, same for you. Pidge, it’s alright. Swing up top, not by your ear. Matt, get aggressive. You got this. We’re okay. Let’s end this.” They put their hands in the middle and nodded.

    “Lions on three!” Lance shouted proudly. “One, two, three—“

    “Lions!” they all shouted together as their hands flew up into the air. They hustled back to their positions.

    “Right here, pass up!” Lance shouted. “Setter’s here!” Lance nodded to Allura, and she grinned almost maniacally.

    “Shiro,” Allura spoke behind her quietly, “if it goes to you, Hunk, or Matt, pass it middle!”

    “Got it,” Shiro grinned knowingly. He quickly told Hunk and Matt, and they smiled the same. Lance started flicking his wrist at his side subtly to warm it up.

    Luis blew the whistle and motioned for the server to go ahead, and Lance watched as Keith was grinning in his position at the net. Lance smiled to himself.

    Oh, Keith, Lance thought, your poor little soul hasn’t ever been ready for my specialty.

    The serve came over and Matt passed it perfectly to the middle.

    “I got it, I got it, I got it!” Allura shouted so loud her vocal chords ached, calling Lance off. She set it toward Lance, who jumped up as if he were going to set it over, then snapped his right wrist over so fast that the blocker flinched, and he sent it right down to the floor. This was it, this would get them the serve—

    But then the ball was back up in the air. Someone had dove down and passed it back up. Who the hell—

    Keith.

    Number 12.

    “It’s up, it’s up!” Lance shouted. His throat hurt from shouting so loudly.

    “Cover back!” Shiro barked out. The setter squared and Lance immediately knew what was happening.

    “They’re going sail!” Lance shouted. “Sail outside, sail!” Surely enough, The set was up, and it was a sail. The Lions squared around quickly and awaited the hit. Keith went up, and is arm swung around, then the ball was hit, but Lance had gone up to block.

    “Touch, touch, touch!” Lance shouted. Hunk passed it back to Allura, who set it up, then Lance grinned. They were letting him hit.

    “You got it, Lance!” Shiro called out encouragingly.

    “Strong, Lance!” Matt shouted to him.

    Lance approached forward, his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel the cold rush sparking throughout his body as he pushed up off the ground, floating midair. His arm swung around, his wrist flicked, then there was a loud smack of his hand hitting the ball.

    It was sent straight down to the middle of the court. But everything was still in slow motion. Everyone held their breath and watched as the libero made a silent plea for the two others in back row to get it. The remaining two were having a silent quarrel about who should get it, but it was too late. The ball made a loud “boom” as it hit the court floor. The entire gym was silent as they looked at one another, then Lance in shock.

    Lance had never been able to hit a good down ball onto the court during a game. It always scared him. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the urgency spiked in his blood made that statement otherwise. After a few seconds, everyone in the gym was roaring with cheers and applause, standing from their seats in the stands.

    “That’s how you play volleyball!” Coran shouted. Lance hadn’t hit the ball as hard had Keith had, and he doubted he ever would be able to. But the way that Lance had hit the ball had proved that he meant business.

    Lance was surrounded by his team who were jumping and screaming. Lance bared his arms and shouted out into the air. Lance got large smacks on the back and Hunk shook him like he was a rag doll.

    “Alright, Lance, it’s your serve!” Allura told him. “Get back there and get a good toss up, and don’t hit it too hard or too soft.” Lance nodded and Romelle tossed him the ball.

    “See you guys when we get to 30 points,” Lance commented slyly. They all rolled their eyes playfully and rushed to their positions. Luis blew the whistle and motioned for Lance to serve the ball.

    He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

    He could do this.

    He opened his eyes and bounced the ball once against the floor, then took a bounding step forward, tossing the ball in the air a little bit ahead of him, then approached toward it and served it forward.

    It floated and moved throughout the air from the force and traveled at a sharp downward angle. Their left back player stepped toward it and made a pass up to the setter.

    “It’s going outside!” Lance shouted. He positioned himself up at the net, Matt scooting back to cover Lance’s previous position. The set went up and everyone got in position.

    Lance and Allura went up for a double block, towering over Keith and the hit that he made. It smacked loudly against Lance and Allura’s palms, and dropped straight down to the floor; dead.

    Lance and Allura dropped back to the ground and screamed in each other’s faces from being so ecstatic.

    They had just blocked that insane hit!

    Lance was pretty sure that Matt was right and that his hand was broken.

    Allura was shaking her wrist to confirm that as well.

    “Ooh!” the team shouted deeply as they twiddled their fingers in the air, symbolizing a block.

    “That was freaking amazing!” Pidge punched their own palm.

    “The winner is Altea Lions!” Luis shouted from his stand. The team lined up and smacked palms with Marmora under the net and said “good game” to each player. Lance was at the end, as well as Keith. They stopped when they reached one another.

    “Hey,” Lance kept his hand on Keith’s, “you did so amazing.” Keith’s eyes went a little wide as he smiled and blushed a little bit.

    “Thank you,” he smiled softly. “You did incredible. Nice job, set.” Lance smiled and winked at him.

    “I only bring out that side of me when I wanna show off a little bit,” he chuckled. Keith raised a brow and leaned forward a little bit.

    “Whom for, your right side hitter?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with an enticing manner.

    “Matt?” Lance asked, then shook his head rapidly. “None other than the infamous number 12 is who, Keith.” Lance smiled larger as the other boy’s face lit up.

    “O-Oh,” Keith blinked in shock. Lance flashed that same 10,000 mega-watt smile that he was blessed with.

    “I’ll talk to you later?” Lance asked softly. Keith’s entire face was flushed red and he used his left hand to fiddle with the hem of his jersey.

    “Um, or,” he spoke quietly, “I could give you my number.” Lance smiled and chuckled as he looked down at his feet.

    “I would really like that,” Lance spoke as softly as he could.

    “I’ll wait for you by the door,” Keith grinned. Lance nodded and shook Keith’s hand as he bowed to exaggerate the gesture. Keith laughed and covered his face with his palm, then walked away as he waved. Lance waved back and walked over to his team.

    They all waited anxiously and when he got over there, Allura was vibrating in her own skin.

    “Did you get his number?” Allura asked quietly. Lance tried to speak, but a smile broke over his face and he felt himself blush as he covered his face and laughed.

    “Yeah, I’m gonna get it in a sec,” Lance smiled and laughed lightly. “He’s gonna wait for me by the door.” Allura squealed and hugged Lance until he couldn’t breathe.

    “Thatta boy,” Coran smirked from behind the group. They shuffled to let him in.

    “I’m proud of you guys,” Coran said. “Everything we need to smooth out will be covered next practice. I’ll text you guys about day and time.” Everyone nodded and gathered into a circle.

    “Lions on three,” Lance shouted. “One, two, three—“

    “Lions!” they all shouted in unison. Lance took off his shoes, ankle braces, and kneepads, placing them in his backpack. He took out his sandals and slipped them on, then slipped his sweatshirt over his head and slipped into it comfortably.

    He said goodbye to his teammates and walked to the doorway, where Keith was waiting with his arms crossed.

    When Lance neared, Keith looked up and smiled.

    “Hey there,” Lance playfully nudged his shoulder. Keith smiled and looked at his feet, then back up to Lance.

    “Hi,” he nudged Lance back.

    “What’s a guy got to do to get your number?” Lance asked jokingly. Keith laughed and shrugged.

    “Well I prefer him to be you,” Keith replied shyly. Lance laughed and covered his face with his hands.

    “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, jeez!” he laughed. Keith smiled and hugged himself closer. “Hey, are you cold?” Keith shook his head and Lance tsked in response. “Here, I have a spare sweatshirt.”

    “That’s really not necessary.”

    “You’re cold, I’m not gonna sit and let you freeze to death.”

    “Lance, it’s sweet of you, but-“

    “Keith,” Lance cut him off. “Take my sweatshirt, please.” Keith groaned and unfolded his arms, then placed his backpack on the floor. He took the sweatshirt from Lance’s hands and slipped it over his head, letting his arms slip in and watched as it draped over nearly half of his thighs.

    “Woah,” Keith laughed. “It’s so big on me.” Lance laughed and reached forward, smoothing the fabric out and fixing the sleeves.

    “Yeah,” Lance sighed. “But you look adorable.” Keith met Lance’s gaze and felt his entire body heat up.

    “You devil,” Keith grumbled with a smile, then picked up his backpack. “Just give me your phone.” Lance laughed and handed Keith his phone from his backpack’s side pocket.

    Lance watched as the light from his screen made Keith’s eyes glow even brighter. He studied every feature on Keith’s face. He noticed the small faint freckles littering across his nose, covering his cheekbones. Keith looked back up and handed Lance his phone back.

    “Thanks,” Lance smiled genuinely. Keith nodded and smiled softly.

    “Text me, like,” Keith fiddled with the sleeves on the sweatshirt, “when you get home.” Lance nodded and grinned.

    “Will do,” he replied. Keith stepped forward hesitantly and raised a finger, then put it back down. He huffed in and exhaled sharply, then looked up and met Lance’s eyes again.

    “Um,” he began, but shook his head as he leaned up and quickly pecked Lance on the cheek. “You did great today.” He began shuffling away and toward the doors where Shiro was waiting. Lance smiled and placed his fingertips where the small contact was made.

    “You ready, little bro?” Shiro asked. Keith sighed and covered his face.

    “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that in public. It’s embarrassing,” Keith replied. Lance’s eyes widened and Shiro watched as Lance began to speak.

    “Oh god,” Shiro mumbled to himself. Keith smirked and glared at Shiro innocently.

    “Shiro, Keith is your brother?” Lance shouted. “You never told me this! Shiro, don’t you dare run away from me, get back here!” Shiro grabbed Keith by the arm and dashed out the door with him, leaving a confused and frantic Lance in the lobby of the gym.

    “Oh,” Lance mumbled, “my gosh.”

Chapter Text

    The next practice, Lance was hurtling toward Shiro at full speed with his hair a rumpled mess, his clothes wrinkled, and his eyes wide as saucers. Shiro already knew what was going to be said. Or screamed, rather.

    “Shiro, you jerk, why didn’t you tell me Keith was your little brother!” Lance shouted loudly as he smacked Shiro’s bicep.

    “So I could watch the pining in peace,” Shiro shrugged calmly. Lance narrowed his eyes and poked Shiro’s chest with his index finger.

    “I hate you,” he said lowly, but Shiro just snorted and patted Lance’s head.

    “You look dandy,” Shiro eyes him up and down, trying to change the subject.

    “As per usual,” Lance puckered his bottom lip out. “I always look good, on the contrary.” Shiro rolled his eyes and nodded sarcastically.

    “Oh, yeah, uh huh,” he replied coolly. “Well, all jokes aside, Keith certainly does think that statement is true.” Lance choked and smacked Shiro’s bicep again.

    Shiro laughed and nudged Lance knowingly.

    “You gotta set me up, Shiro,” Lance groaned. Shiro raised a brow and shook his head.

    “No, Lance, you’re the setter, and Allura is, too,” he shrugged again. “I don’t set. I never have.” Lance shook his head and face-palmed.

    “No, Shiro, that’s not what I meant!” Lance groaned yet again. “I meant set me up with your brother, please! Get me a date with him or something!” Shiro’s mouth made an “o” shape and he smirked.

    “No problem,” Shiro winked and went on the court to warm up, and Lance sighed as he sat down to put on his gear.

    Jeez.

    The stupidity Shiro has sometimes, Lance thought to himself, honestly worries me.