Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance McClain considered himself lucky.

He was powerful, could bend objects to his will, could manipulate the energy of the world.

He had an amazing family, tight knit and kind.

He was a ladies man. He said so every day and therefore it must be true.

He knew his friends and he knew his enemies.

Lance grew up in a time of oppression, it was all anyone had known. The Galra restricted liberty and eliminated all that stood in their way. But even with the constant stories of repression and cruelty, Lance’s life at school was fairly normal. Most people assume that being under the control of a ruthless family would mean whipping in halls, but as long as you kept your mouth shut around officials, life for students was not all that difficult or hard, at least for normal students.

The only real threat was propaganda (and maybe Keith but he’d get more in depth on that later) as all the lessons taught were heavily edited and redacted, unsurprisingly. Newspapers would come in glorifying the Galra’s recent victory against the evil rebels, newspapers that Lance would promptly ignore, not believing a word of it.

In terms of magic, simply speaking, everyone on the planet had it. Where magic differed was the levels of power. Of the magic users there were elitists, members of the factions: the Manipulators of Matter (or MOM which Lance found hilarious), the House of Energy, and the Elementals. In ancient myth there was a fourth faction, the Shapeshifters, but they were little more than a folktale.

The Elementals varied, the most powerful being those who could tame and bend all four elements. Obviously the less elements you could control, the weaker you were. Those who had only one often proclaimed that it didn’t matter as long as you had an element. This was factually inaccurate.

The Galra were the strongest of the Elementals, they ruled the faction and currently the world.

The House of Energy could access the Quintessence of the universe, manipulating it to create spells varying from healing to power.

Finally, members of MOM could bend the very material of the world, changing objects into something else of the same mass (as they were still governed by the laws of science).

Lance had grown up surrounded by stories about the Chaos, an unstable figure with powers of both energy and matter. The Galra consistently “saved the universe’ by killing the Chaos who at around 18 would become irrational and eventually try to rob a bank, attack the capital or something else strange. No one quite knew the origin of this being.

Lance was 18, he held the power of energy and matter in his hands and fortunately he had not yet gone off his rocker. He likes to think it’s because he’s always drank his milk (to which Keith would later roll his eyes and declare him an idiot).

The Chaos was a constant, while they were a child their powers lay dormant protecting them for a short period while the Galra did all they could to find them. Sometimes they found them the minute they turned 15 and their powers awoke.

As a kid Lance had thought he was extremely weak. His parents had great hope originally, a seer having told them that he would hold immense power. Let’s just say Lance has been disappointing his family for a while now.

When he started school he was a smart but weak kid and everyone knew it. In this society, this was a common demographic, and not a bad one at that. Maybe you took some shit in school, but at least you weren’t drafted as a soldier for the Galra.

When Lance’s power kicked in he was old enough to know they had to remain hidden. The only person who knew was Hunk, his best friend. In order to erase all suspicions, Lance crashed his grades, letting go of it all. After all, when you’re the Chaos you don’t have to worry about grades. Either he dies or he brings down the empire so either way his future was set.

Did he mention he’s been disappointing his parents for most his life?

Lance had grown up in Cuba, spending most of his childhood swimming along Varadero beach. At night he would sneak out of their cramped house to hone his “pre-chaos powers” trying to comprehend why he was so much weaker.

In the middle of his general training and subjects, which was supposed to be taken in a certain school depending on your zone, Lance was forced to move. He was 14 at the time. His older sister Veronica was moving to the private training stage of education which began at 17 and his family wanted to spend what little they had saved moving into a zone that would filter into a better school.

His mom would pull him tight and tell him it was all for the best for the entire family. His father would ruffle his hair and assure him he would make new friends.

The young cuban boy sulked the entire flight there.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when Lance tripped into Hunk, that he felt a little better. Hunk had also recently moved from Hawaii, and Lance quickly realized that he had managed to find the sweetest friend ever who made the sweetest treats.

After discovering his own personal chef, Lance finally settled into his new home.

When he turned 17, it was time for the two of them to graduate to the next, specific magic, level. Hunk entered an Engineering and Magic course, and Lance tentatively took diplomacy (a decision that still baffles Keith and Lance because, although Lance is good with people, he had a short attention span and thus the subject was not his cup of tea). This is where he met Allura.

The white beautiful locks, clipped accent, and markings of the Altea family culminated in Lance’s first crush away from Cuba. However, despite his best efforts and because the universe was against them, the two of them did not fall desperately in love. But Allura was far more than a pretty face as she was powerful member of the House of Energy. It wasn’t until Lance accidentally saw Allura and Coran discussing their plans, that he realized she was a prominent leader in the underground resistance movement.

This is how he became Leandro, an agent of the Blade of Marmora, led by Kolivan but working closely with Allura. The Blade was shrouded in mystery, but whenever contacted, Lance would not hesitate to jump into action. His identity as the Chaos however, remained a secret.

Allura and him became fast friends, and Coran would regale the two with tales late into the night.

Lance met Pidge, or Katie Holt, because they shared classes with Hunk. A young genius who was a whiz with technology and held blatant disregard of authority was a great addition to Lance’s group of friends.

Upon deciding diplomacy was not the right fit for him, Lance boldly entered the Field Training course which focused on offensive and defensive magic. The way he saw it, he did not have to do well in the class but he could develop his abilities in private using advice from said class.

It was in this course that he met Keith.

The moment the boy walked in, Lance knew something about him rubbed him the wrong way (there would be many jokes about this in the future). Some could say that Lance found him so interesting because everyone had become very quiet when the boy walked in, but Lance liked to say it’s because he could feel their future. Either way, Keith caught his attention immediately, all sharp angles with piercing violet eyes. Lance would swear, when they caught each others glance something electric had passed through the room. He felt power radiating from the boy, quiet intelligence and intensity.

This is why it came as a shock when he spoke to Allura about him.

He was quickly informed that Keith was a) the son of the very people Lance swore to defeat and b) apparently extremely stupid and incredibly weak (this one particularly shocked him as he was not normally so off base).

While Allura described him, her eyebrows were furrowed with anger, words seeping with hatred. Lance could only assume she blamed him for the fall of the Altean line. She regaled Lance with descriptive and rude adjectives she attributed to Keith.

All in all Lance did not learn much about the boy other than that he was an entitled brat who worshipped his parents, believed his family held the right to rule and only survived saying what he did because of his heritage.

Curiously, being the son of the Galra Keith was an elemental but he only held one element: fire.

Unsurprisingly, Lance would soon learn that much of what he knew about Keith was very wrong, that the Japanese boy held secrets beyond his comprehension. But this will come later.

Such was the beginning of Keith and Lance’s tempestuous relationship. The two became fast and unfriendly rivals. They could not stand being within ten feet of each other and when they were, fighting would break out within the hour.

Lance considered himself lucky.

He knew his purpose in the universe, why he was given his powers.

He knew how this society operated, where he could slip through the lines.

He knew his friends and he knew his enemies.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

Chapter Text

To put it frankly, Lance was bored. He mindlessly watched as the pen he was currently twirling spun round and round, his fingers manipulating it in a tired and practiced motion. He had completely tuned out the professor who continued to drone on and on about this and that and essentially nothing at all. Another class, another indoctrinated and incredibly fraudulent speech. It was no different than the last- the pedantic and generally inaccurate lesson fueling Lance’s hatred for the empire and sending him into an inexplicable chasm of boredom.

Lance wondered to himself just how the people in the front rows cared enough to be taking notes and if they actually believed the drivel coming out of the man with a squashed face and no sense of moral justice.

Lance had better things to think about, more pressing issues at hand. His biggest issue sat right in front of him. His new roommate.

Lance attended the Garrison, a prestigious school with a reputation that could make any student seem like a prosperous candidate. The school itself was a blatant display of the inequity of society in the hands of the Galra. Certain schools held prestige and credibility but they were often in zones where rent was far too high and the Galra roamed the streets, watching for recruits and rebels. Needless to say, the school and its zone were heavily regulated. This fact was extremely deleterious to Lance’s situation, but no matter his complaints his parents took no heed of the words of an “immature and dramatic child”.

Unfortunately for Lance, the Garrison in particular was the most monitored school, mostly due to the enrollment of the Galran son. Thus, all the teachers were employed by the empire and there was a strict curfew, enforced by those who were dubbed “officers”. Because of the strong Galran presence, history courses were never taken seriously and it was of the utmost importance that everything said must be regarded with suspicion. However, despite the glaring faults, it was widely regarded as a good school, with high academics and excellent ties.

Obviously this was all wasted on Lance.

How long a student spent on campus was entirely dependent upon which course they took and when they began. Lance’s track was three years long and if he had chosen it originally then he would be scheduled to graduate when he was 20. However because he took a year of Diplomacy, which the Cuban often argues claimed more than one year from his life, Lance enrolled at age 18. Thus he would remain a step away from sweet, blissful freedom until 21 which coincided with both the end of Hunk’s program and the legal drinking age.

Now due to the system’s strange patterns, it was only natural that people in the same course would be roommates to avoid the confusion of graduation and course length. The unspoken, ulterior motive was the Galra’s paranoia that the intermingling of students would surely lead to a revolution. Lance liked to imagine the marching of a large group of students, enlightened by either their recent turn with the blunt or the second hand smoke and endowed with bravery by the alcohol coursing through their veins.

Regardless of whether or not the Walmarts would be running out of pitchforks and Tiki torches in the near future, when Lance transferred to his new course he needed a new roommate. However, due to the slow nature of the system, he didn’t actually switch rooms until halfway through the year.

Fate had apparently decided to send him the proverbial middle finger in the form of this new roommate. In a coincidence that Lance would swear was the hand of some higher being determined to punish him for saying “dios” one too many times, both Lance and Keith had transferred to the same course. Therefore the school found it quite convenient to room the two of them together, launching Lance into a new spiral of anger, annoyance and the repetition of the question “why god, why me?”

Hunk often theorized that if they had become roommates originally instead of months after having known each other, months that had consisted of him constantly cursing the boy in his head, the problem would not be so drastic. Lance, on the other hand, insists that no matter the capacity to which he knew Keith the situation would always be a disaster of the highest order. And for once, he would not be exaggerating. His presence made him increasingly paranoid of being discovered and the two struggled to exist near one another, much less live together.

When told, Pidge had grinned and congratulated Lance on taking a big step in their relationship. When Lance had questioned their meaning, Pidge had glanced meaningful at Keith and then Lance, prompting the boy to turn away in embarrassment and feign disgust at the insinuation that he was romantically involved with Keith.

Naturally, Lance spent the majority of his time away from his room. This was, to a degree, unnecessary considering actually seeing Keith in the room was a very rare occurrence.

There were some positives to living with Keith, one of which Pidge had helped him discover. After his fortieth complaint about Keith being able to invade his privacy, Pidge had suggested Lance take the initiative. From there on out he paid more attention to Keith and his patterns.

Occasionally he’d catch glimpses of Keith’s progress report and find that somehow the boy managed to do just as badly as Lance himself. And may he remind you he was purposefully failing.

The boy was also extremely private. He kept his room (the dormitories were extremely luxurious) locked at all times and Lance, although curious, could never mentally justify breaking in to investigate. This was most certainly not due to a lack of trying or desire. No matter how many arguments he supplied, a small yet prominent voice in the back of his mind would whisper that breaking in would be wrong and a violation of Keith’s privacy thus making Lance a huge hypocrite.

His hours were also extremely weird. He would return home extremely late, Lance hearing the door creek open at 2 am most nights. He would always sleep through his alarm and get to class late to which the teacher would pretend not to notice. If someone ever tried to bring it up, a sharply raised eyebrow quelled any argument (which Lance swears he does NOT find hot).

Keith himself was threatening in attitude. He was silent and brooding. People in the hallways would whisper that he thought himself above the other students. They were angered that because of his family he could do whatever he wanted with no consequences.

The only time Keith talked was around his best friend Shiro and when Lance would provoke him. Just as Lance could not resist teasing Keith, the latter could not help himself from snapping back. In this he was a predictable fellow. A “mullet” would get him an “asshole”. A stupid comment would get him an “idiot”. Some days Lance could provoke him to the point where they’d both be yelling. Kids cheered Lance because he was unafraid to challenge the Galran son.

Hunk would often tell him that he should tread carefully, that Keith could be the most dangerous to his identity. Lance however, was unworried and would express this liberally.

“My true power far outweighs his, Hunk. He only controls 1 element for god’s sake. He’s dumb as a rock. There’s nothing he can do to hurt me.”

Every time Hunk would only shake his head and say, “his power does not lie in his abilities”.

Lance took this to mean that Keith was a fraud.

Deep down, Lance knew Hunk was right. He knew how bad it would be if Keith figured out his secret. He knew how dangerous Keith was. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, whenever he was in close proximity to the supposedly evil boy it was like something inside of him was trying to burst free. He couldn’t control himself. In the back of his mind he was always aware that he was sealing his own fate, but none of it mattered when he caught sight of those violet eyes that burned with an inexplicable fire.

“No”, Hunk stated, his tone certain and firm. But Lance knew him better. He could break his best friend and in that he had faith.

“Hunk, please,'' Lance whined, making every syllable drip with exaggeration.

Hunk merely replied “No, I can’t. I won’t.”

Lance was growing fed up and because he had taken a nap in class he had far too much energy in his body than he should have at 1 am.

“Cmon Hunk please.”

“This is such a bad idea!” Hunk whisper shouted. “we’re gonna sneak out, get immediately caught and the Galra are gonna kill us. And then Keith is gonna dance on your grave. Do you want Keith to dance on your grade Lance? Do you?” With every word Hunk got closer and more frantic

Lance groaned, loud and dramatic. “You’re being ridiculous, no one will be dancing on my grave. I’m bored” he dragged the last word out, waving his hands around in exasperation. “Please, I just need a freaking break.”

He could feel Hunk’s resolve wavering, his fear of taking unnecessary risks fighting his need to help his friend.

There was a brief silence until Hunk sighed and capitulated. “If we get caught you’re taking all the blame”.

Lance nodded fervently, “Hunk you’re the best. I promise. All the blame. All of it.”

He clapped his hands, slapping one hand on the door and slamming it open.

He heard an urgent shushing behind him, tearing him out of his excitement and back to reality. He flushed with embarrassment, as they waited to see if someone would come. When the coast was clear they began to tiptoe out.

“This is a bad idea” Hunk muttered under his breath. “This is a bad idea”. His breathing got more and more rapid.

“Shut up Hunk!” Lance snapped, annoyed.

“You shut up!” came a rushed and breathless reply. Clearly it had been an instinct, a knee jerk reaction so unlike Hunk that it had Lance stopping in his tracks with a quick turn of his head. Bright blue eyes, filled with mirth and shock, studied the panicked boy, accompanied with an eyebrow raised so high that it brought little crinkles to his forehead.

Hunk cringed “I’m sorry when I get nervous I get mean!!”

“Oh Hunk you sweet dollop of goodness,” Lance began quietly but with as much gusto as he could express. “You beautiful human being who brings endless joy to my life. I would hardly call that mean”

Then Lance smirked, and ran down to the corner where he came to an abrupt halt. Mischief brimming in his eyes, he turned back at Hunk and, in the most exaggerated and theatrical fashion, crouched to peer around the corner as if he was a spy from a kids tv show. However, halfway through the peek he froze.

“What’s up Lance?” Hunk breathed, confused.

The cuban boy urgently raised his finger to his mouth and pointed, all his playfulness and excitement disappearing. Hunk approached the corner to see what had sobered Lance so quickly.

Down the hall, there was a figure clad with black skinny jeans, a black bomber jacket that contrasted his usual red bomber and faded black converses. His head was on a swivel, alert and nervous. Each step was calculated as if a single misstep would mean the end.

Keith was deliberate, determined.

And Lance was entranced by it.

The boy was dead silent and if Lance hadn’t seen him, they wouldn’t have known someone else was wandering the halls at night. Yet this wanderer clearly wasn’t planning on breaking into the kitchen for ice cream.

Lance turned around and Hunk, who had a lot of experience with his adventurous friend, knew immediately what he was thinking. “No, no, no. We are not, I repeat not trailing the Galran son. Most definitely not,” he babbled. “This is a terrible idea, doomed to fail and get us killed.”

“Then go home, you know I have to do this Hunk” came the response, voice dead serious and devoid of any emotion beyond determination. The cautious engineer knew there would be no arguing and resigned he followed Lance who had begun to silently creep towards the corner Keith had recently passed.

Lance was extremely grateful for the loud buzz of the air conditioners that concealed their movements. After all, Hunk was not particularly quiet and Lance, despite being an agent, struggled to keep his long gangly arms in check, especially with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart beat loudly but he was unsure if he could attribute the rapid pattern to the danger or to simply seeing Keith.

The two friends continued to wind through the halls, illuminated by soft lights signifying that it was night. Lance rapidly began to realize that Keith had sneaked out before, his evidence being the course that Keith took. Upon becoming an agent, one of the first things Allura had shown him while she was teaching him the ropes was the pathway through the hallways. The gridlike system was intricate and confusing but it was also filled with security cameras.

Coran had explained that these cameras were instituted so the Galra could monitor the activities of the students and ensure there were no people acting against the empire. However, despite the very 1984-esque atmosphere, it was surprisingly easy to avoid the cameras, if you knew the route. Because this was a hub for Galran activity they had purposefully left this hole in the system so that soldiers and officials and other empire members could remain invisible as well. The empire’s ego failed to account for the people who could also discover the path out of the dormitories. Once you were on the street, officers were the only threat of discovery but Lance had long since memorized their rotations and patterns.

Apparently, Keith had too.

Once they exited the dormitories, and they no longer could hide behind corners or cover their footsteps with the air conditioner, Lance and Hunk lengthened the distance between themselves and Keith who still made no noise whatsoever.

Hunk was shaking like a leaf where Lance feared discovery simply from the pounding of his heart. A deep breath in and a deep breath out brought Lance back to reality. While he was normally an agent who could always keep a clear head and calm attitude, something about Keith made him into a nervous wreck who was barely keeping it together. He was thankful for Hunk who kept him grounded and reminded him that Lance had to remain calm for the both of them.

Eventually Keith stopped, pulled his hood up so Lance could no longer see his head at all and then paused for nearly a minute. Then he abruptly turned into a building, his face still obscured.

When they realized that Keith had entered a library, Lance and Hunk looked at each other in surprise both wondering if Keith had suddenly wanted to do some late night studying or reading. It certainly didn’t sound like something a failing student would do.

Fully aware that they wouldn't be able to follow Keith in, Lance figured they would have to wait for him outside and he was suddenly struck with an ingenious idea. Quickly he began to dig in the dirt, the brown pieces getting stuck under his nails hideously. Hunk’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before realization dawned across his features and he began to help. Lance closed his eyes, holding the dirt, and with practiced ease imagined a camera. It wasn’t long before a beautiful Nikon was in his hands, a smirk upon his face and amazement clear on Hunk’s.

The kind friend, crouching on the dirt, watched with great rapture as the air around them seemed to grow darker, further obscuring them in the night. Lance rarely displayed his true power, but when he did it was a beautiful work of art, especially his work with Quintessence.

Now logically one might assume the Manipulators of Magic would be the strongest faction, or at least the richest considering they could turn anything into gold and never needed to buy anything. It was in fact this assumption that hurt this faction, mostly because the Galra had come to this same conclusion. The greatest users, the Olkari family were hurt drastically by a surprise attack about 100 years ago. Those that were left were terrified of continuing the fight, especially since the head of the family had allied himself with the Galra. The other members of MOM were satisfied as long as they held their wealth and social status. Lance considered these people the worst of the worst.

This was nowhere near the pain of the Altean family who had been nearly wiped out no more than ten years ago, Allura and her uncle Coran being the only ones to survive. Other members of the House of Energy survived, but with no one to rally behind they could never rise against the empire.

The door to the library opened and Keith stepped out. Lance was glad he had thought to further hide himself, because he saw Keith scanning the area checking if it was safe. His face was still obscured and he was holding a book whose title Lance could not read. He raised the camera and zoomed in on the novel in Keith’s hands, snapping pictures rapidly. Once he was satisfied, he pulled the memory card out and the expensive camera crumbled back into dust, something that brought great sadness to Hunk’s face.

“I’m sorry man but you know I can’t leave evidence” Lance whispered softly.

Hunk nodded, eyes filled with understanding but the gleam of wonder had disappeared with this reminder of the harsh reality they lived in.

Once they returned safely to Hunk’s dorm, Lance grabbed his computer from the bed, ignoring Hunks half hearted complaints about not getting enough sleep.

Lance would apparently never be a photographer, since most of the photos he snapped were fairly unusable. However, when they finally found a picture that was clear enough to read the title, it did absolutely nothing to clear their confusion.

Keith was holding a book entitled “Weapons of the World”.

When Lance looked up the novel it was increasingly clear why Keith had needed to steal it. No copies existed online or had been printed in nearly fifty years and the closest copy had just recently been stolen by Keith himself.

Lance had no clue what the contents of the novel were or why Keith would need it. He came back from his adventure more confused than he had been when he had left. Why did Keith need this book and what was in it? Why did Keith steal the novel rather than borrow it? How did Keith know the patterns to avoid the cameras and why did he even need to hide?

His mind was in overdrive not letting him sleep despite Hunk’s soothing snoring. Suspicions and ideas raced through his mind quicker than he himself could keep up with, but all had the same bottom line. Keith was up to something which meant so was the Galra.

And Lance? Lance was gonna stop him.

Chapter Text

To Pidge, Lance was a contradiction. Nothing about him made sense. He got terrible grades, was widely considered one of the stupidest people at the school, and often called Benjamin Franklin his favorite president.

And yet, whenever he fought with Keith, Pidge could see this spark in him, as if there was a dam within him holding back a massive flow of water and power. And when they both got really into it, Lance’s wit was astounding, he and Keith working off of one another’s insults in creative and colorful ways. It was as if their dynamic brought out a special intelligence in both.

They could see Lance walking into a room scanning the people as if they were threats, but then he was a completely open book, or at least it appeared he was.

Lance was clearly weak, he had no faction powers and yet Pidge had a feeling he had undiscovered, untapped sources of potential.

He was insecure but exuded confidence.

Although he talked about his family endlessly, Pidge knew nothing substantial about them, didn’t know their powers or background. And they had never met them either, something quite disappointing for Pidge who had many, many questions.

So yeah, to Pidge, Lance McClain was a puzzle.

It was nearing the end of the day, the sun was lighting up the sky with beautiful hues of reds and oranges and yellows, and honestly Lance was tired as all hell. Yet despite his exhaustion, he knew he had to deal with Keith sooner or later. The kid was beyond shady and Lance was beyond suspicious. He had a duty after all, couldn't just ignore something like this especially considering Keith is the son of the Galra family. If that wasn't proof enough of his evil intentions then nothing was. He just needed the “actual evidence”.

"Hey" a voice chirped behind Lance. A little bit startled, he looked behind him and saw Pidge flashing him a friendly smile, "I had a quick question."

"Uhh," Lance raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. Pidge almost never had questions, often already knowing everything that they needed to. "Yeah? Shoot."

"Well I was looking through some files, and I sorta, all by coincidence of course, stumbled upon your past grades from a while back and-"

"Files? Why were you looking at my files?" Lance’s eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion. He was a little taken aback that they had access to that information. His mind flashed with worry, the possibility of Pidge discovering his secret looming over his head. He rapidly tried to think of an excuse.

"As I was saying," Pidge irritatedly ignored Lance, "you were really smart with great grades and you were clearly a well rounded student. And then you had this sudden drop. By drop I mean you went from like straight A's to D's. What the hell was that all about?"

Their eyebrows furrowed as if they were looking at a math problem they needed to solve.

Pidge was clearly invested in this and Lance knew that once they found a puzzle they would never give up until every piece was perfectly in place and they could see every detail of the picture. Putting it simply, he was in deep shit.

For some odd reason, Pidge found themselves genuinely enticed by Lance's transcript. It wasn't the fact that Lance had bad grades currently, as that was to be expected. It was a known fact that Lance McClain struggled immensely when it came to testing. But what truly surprised Pidge was the good grades. There was a time when Lance was actually smart? It didn't make sense. Granted it seemed to be a while ago, but Lance had never been invested in school, he probably never would be. Something wasn't adding up. With the grades and aptitudes they saw, Lance had to be insanely smart… so what happened?

Pidge zoned out as Lance gave some lazily crafted excuse to explain the situation. Pidge could tell it was a lie, they could read the subtle signs. Whenever Lance lied his voice would become high pitched, he would talk impossibly faster and add in an excess number of hand gestures. Lance did these things in a normal conversation, but watching closely it was just a little bit faster and the hand movements a little bit more dramatic.

Pidge thought Lance’s lying was an art, clearly practiced extensively over the years. They knew what he was saying was almost plausible and would be somewhat believable if he was telling anyone else, despite how obviously stupid it seemed to be. The small things she noticed were subtle but almost crafted as if Lance used his own dramatic nature to sell his lie. Perhaps Lance learned it because of his family, but Pidge had a nagging feeling that it was something else.

"...and so because of my popularity with the ladies and just general coolness, I gave up. That's all. Seriously, I just became more cool", he concluded, taking a deep breath and praying to the god above, whoever it might be, that his words would satisfy Pidge's curiosity. In hindsight he really shouldn't have been so naive.

Unfortunately, Pidge frowned and shook their head in confusion, "c'mon Lance, that's the best lie you could think of? You’re not nearly popular enough for it to have had that much of a dramatic effect."

"Hey!" Lance felt the heat rise to his cheeks, rapidly becoming more and more annoyed with Pidge's constant prying into his life, "You wanted an explanation and I gave you one. The real question is how you just coincidentally stumbled upon my folders. I'm starting to think that wasn't a coincidence. In fact, how did you even have access to those files?"

"Well," Pidge fumbled with their hands, they really didn't think Lance would question them this far, "I just, ya know, I was...

"What? You what?" He was progressively getting louder and it became clear to anyone in their vicinity that he was most certainly a little angry and a little annoyed.

"Alright fine!" Pidge gave in, "I'll let it go and you let this go, alright?"

Lance took a second to process. He didn't want to let it go, but it wasn't really his choice. If they continued to dig into life they might find out about his abilities, about his role in the Blade and association with Voltron. He truly couldn't risk anyone knowing, and that meant everyone, including Pidge.

"Okay," He sighed, "it's whatever, we'll both just forget it."

Pidge nodded.

Despite this conclusion, the Cuban’s mind was racing. He couldn't afford such close threats to his identity and he had no clue if Pidge would ever let this go.

Lance had been tailing Keith for the past half hour. Discreetness, he liked to believe, was one of his talents, a talent that enabled him to follow the Galran son without discovery. Lance knew Keith was a threat, he'd been acting strange and, as an agent, the tanned boy had a sharp intuition. Nonetheless, following him around the Garrison had gotten boring. Keith didn't really do anything of interest, or anything Lance could use as evidence against him. He literally did nothing, just walking around randomly, this way and that. He walked as if he had nothing better to spend his time doing.

The Cuban decided to give up, ultimately concluding that he needed to follow Keith somewhere outside of the Garrison, where Keith would actually reveal his malicious intentions instead of his current useless wandering,

"Would you give it a rest already?" came a sharp and clearly annoyed voice. Lance flinched, jerking backward in surprise, yanked out of his thoughts abruptly.

Keith had stopped in his tracks now facing Lance with anger written all over his face. Despite this apparent anger, the Galran also looked bored, as if this confrontation was a mere waste of his time, an inconvenience. Lance’s blood boiled.

The confrontation itself, however, was a little off-putting as Lance had thought he had been doing a decent job trailing him.

"I could see you the whole time, James Bond!” Keith exasperatedly exclaimed, as if reading his mind. “What. Do. You. Want.”

The Cuban, in a desperate attempt to preserve his dignity and save his skin, began to stare at the sky. He slowly backed up, avoiding eye contact at all costs. In a spur of the moment decision, he decided he heard his phone ringing and picked it up, answering an imaginative call from his mom.

"Lance!" Keith followed him, inserting himself into Lance’s personal space until they were far too close for Lance to blatantly ignore him.

"Oh Keith? Hey bud, how's it going?" Lance gave a cheeky grin and then slowly put his phone down.

"Don't play dumb, though I know that may be hard. You've clearly been following me- for a while now." Keith’s voice had a demanding inflection, his tone snide and rude. Lance sighed, fully aware that there was no chance Keith would let him get away with the fake phone call.

"Me?! Following you? You're the one who's been following me," Lance dramatically declared, pointing an accusatory a finger at Keith.

Keith unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, didn't fall for that one. His beautiful (wait what?) face remained dead serious with a tinge of annoyance.

"What? How is that even possible?" Keith sputtered. He finally frowned and then gave a frustrated grunt, "that doesn't even make sense!"

Lance crossed his arms and sunk into his new role as a victim of Keith's obvious stalking. "That’s what I've been thinking too, I mean why would you want to follow me?" He shook his head, "it doesn't make any sense."

"You can't just reverse the situation like that, Lance." Keith had now reached the state of pure anger and Lance had no response. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Keith sighed, surprisingly admitting exasperated defeat, "just leave me alone alright?"

"Only if you leave me alone."

Keith groaned and stormed off, having no more patience- though he hadn’t had much to begin with -to deal with Lance's nonsense any longer without losing his shit.

Honestly, it seemed denial and playing dumb had somehow worked in Lance's favor and he sighed in relief. He honestly hadn’t expected Keith to call him out like that or even know Lance was following him. He was a trained agent so it seemed highly unlikely that some civilian, even if it was Keith, should have seen or heard him, There had to be something more behind this. He really needed to dig up some dirt on him. Possibly with the help of others.

"Nah man," Hunk replied to Lance’s inquiry about whether or not he thought Keith was up to anything nefarious, "I mean I hate to be rude, but, honestly, Keith doesn’t seem smart enough to be plotting the downfall of the human race. Especially not without everyone knowing. I’m not saying he’s not a threat I just don’t think... it’s in this way.”

Lance was a little surprised at Hunk’s words. He wasn’t normally so harsh, but apparently the Galra brought out the worst in everyone.

"He's dumb, but he's still part of an evil family! He's probably a puppet of some giant conspiracy or evil plan. He needs to be investigated,” Lance insisted.

Hunk shrugged, "It's a possibility. But you’ve said you’ve seen the guy’s grades and they are worse than yours. I really think you should stop focusing on Keith and be more careful about his parents."

Innately Lance agreed with this assessment and he knew Hunk made a compelling argument, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Keith was off, that he was making fools of them all. He had a hunch, an itch that would never be satisfied without proof and evidence. The more he thought of Keith, the more dedicated he was to investigating. Sometimes his mind would wander to- well it wasn’t important.

Lance, to some extent, wanted his hunch to be true, even if it meant danger. Maybe if he actually figured something out he could be useful, could make an impact. Maybe he could feel important.

When he asked Pidge the same question of Keith's evil intentions, they replied with what he thought was the most ridiculous idea ever uttered.

"There’s a simple biological answer to this, Lance. You're into him. C'mon, admit it, you're just following him around so you can stare at his ass."

Lance's jaw nearly dropped to the floor, "He's the son of the Galra family! Who would ever be interested in him?"

"He's hot. Even I can admit it and... well."

"No way, someone like him is far from my type."

"Denial doesn't suit you well. Talk to me when you admit you're into him."

Lance knew that if he wanted to find someone who would believe him and help him in his investigation he would need to go to someone who did not have first hand knowledge of Keith’s aptitude. Currently the issue he was facing wasn’t that they didn’t take him seriously (though this was true) but was instead that they didn’t take Keith seriously. Finally he decided it was time to go to Allura who not only took him more seriously because of her knowledge that he was an agent but also because of her automatic hatred and suspicion of the Galra. Lance wondered why he didn’t go to her earlier considering her position.

"I've actually had similar thoughts myself," she agreed. She placed a hand on Lance's shoulder for reassurance, "Thank you for warning me of your suspicions. I will personally launch an investigation so please know Keith will not be let out of our sight and we will look into that book he was holding, Weapons of the World was it?”

Lance nodded, happy that someone believed him. This is why Allura was great. She was brilliant and she took action when necessary. Although technically Kolivan was his direct commander, Lance felt incredibly lucky to have her as a leader.

Kolivan himself was stationed in the school as an officer, why was unclear, but Lance assumed it was so he could easily contact Allura and access the agents in this zone. The man was an elemental so he could blend in with the other officers.

Speaking of Kolivan, he had just walked in on their discussion. He seemed a little surprised and his normally stoic face was questioning,"did one of you mention Keith?"

"Yeah," Lance replied, "We've decided to investigate him... Actually… Hey, can I have Keith's file? Maybe it will give us a lead because all I really know is that he's the son of the Galra family and his name."

"No, his file contains nothing of importance. I have nothing beyond what you already know and he has remained quite a mystery for some time." Kolivan’s words were clipped, sentences short and curt. His expression was deadly serious.

Lance could not believe that, "C'mon, you must have something more than what I know. You have detailed files on everyone, I'm sure Keith's file has got to have something."

Kolivan clearly wasn't pleased, he grunted "No. I said there is nothing, so there is no need to waste anyone's time searching through files.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue but caught Allura’s eye as she clearly warned him not to push any further. Not with Kolivan.

The Cuban still couldn't drop it though, he wanted to look at the files himself, to see what was really there. The Blade of Marmora had files of information on every single person. They weren't skimpy either, the files had a substantial amount of details, everything from a person's powers, to their family, associations and childhood. It didn't make sense why Kolivan would insist there was nothing in it. And if there were nothing in it why he wouldn’t even let him take a look. Something about this situation set alarm bells whirring in Lance’s head.

He would realize later that this need to figure out Keith’s story sprung from a fundamental need to understand him. He had always been an enigma and it was time to put an end to any nefarious motives he had. The Galra were already oppressive and held a high rank of power, unchallenged by those who had the ability to stop them but challenged by those who didn’t. If it were to carry onto the next generation, to their son, then their atrocious reign would have no end in sight.

Lance would end this regime. He was the first Chaos in centuries to have remained in secrecy for so long, the first to have the opportunity to take on the Galra with both power and mind. Keith had to be investigated, and Lance planned on doing it himself. The end was coming for the Galra, an end to the entire family and Lance intended to start with Keith.

Chapter Text

Repression breeds rebellion. That was a principle Lance lived by, a principle he found reinforced in the history of man and even in his own threatening time. Lance was unashamed to declare himself an idealist, unashamed to believe that in any instance where the rights of the people were threatened they would fight back no matter the damage to their being. He wasn’t stupid, he recognized that there would be some who would step out of the light and hide, whether out of fear or selfishness. But even with those who cower in the back, there would always be rebellion.

In Lance’s time, there was no idealistic rioting in the streets, no throwing tea off the harbor, something he found endlessly disappointing. Most of the opposition to the Galra came from the underground rebellion network which was comprised of the Blade of Marmora and Voltron. 

The two operations worked very differently, The Voltron Coalition was a large and encompassing mission to establish ties all around the world. Instead of focusing on establishing relations, the Blade was concerned with the acquisition of information and the hindrance of the empire. 

Within the Voltron Coalition, there was Voltron itself: a tight-knit organization whose identities were known by the other few members who worked very closely with one another. In the Blade, identities were carefully hidden, often known to none other than individual commanders, Kolivan in Lance’s case. 

After discovering Allura’s secret, Lance had shockingly been offered a position as a spy of Voltron. He had the opportunity to become the Blue Paladin, a center of the rebellion rather than some random, expendable agent. However, close relations with other specialized agents threatened Lance’s identity. He would be unable to use his powers on missions, making him a liability, and would have to work extremely hard to hide them. Therefore, he instead became Leandro, an agent of the Blade whose name was hidden to all but Allura, Kolivan, and Hunk. 

Allura had always been suspicious of the Blade, their tactics far different than what she believed was necessary or helpful. But her biggest suspicion arose from their bountiful information. The Blade always seemed to know too much about people, which was natural for a spy agency, but they also knew far too much about Galran activity. Allura couldn’t figure out their sources, who was supplying the information that was clearly coming from the highest level of Galran intelligence. When something is shrouded in mystery, when it is misunderstood, it is often mistrusted. 

Kolivan’s recent refusal to release Keith’s file had sparked similar suspicion in the blue-eyed agent. While he had questioned their methods before, he had never found a situation so pressing he would directly ignore orders. 

Which was exactly what he was planning on doing. 

In fact, he was planning on doing a whole lot worse. 

In a day dominated by technology, it was surprising that the Blade tended to remain a paper-based system, their general distrust in databases springing from the Galra’s advanced technological capabilities. With nearly eight billion people in the world, Lance was unsurprised that the Blade did keep many files on the computer out of necessity. However, the classified information, the files on officers and agents and Galra and all faction members, could be found just under the Blade headquarters. They sat in a locked room with one way in, cameras and guards lining the hallway but nobody inside. Lance was certain this is where they kept Keith’s file, and therefore he was certain he needed to break in. Breaking in, while necessary, sucked royally. He cursed Keith for not being a law-abiding citizen, cursed Kolivan for not just giving him his file and cursed himself for caring. He’d better be getting extra Karma for this shit (he didn’t really know how Karma worked but he assumed this was it). 

For the first time in a while, perhaps ever, Lance would heavily depend on his powers to complete this mission. The biggest issue he faced was that the Blade was heavily fortified against nearly all types of magic and all specialized faction powers, so he honestly wouldn’t have that much of an advantage. 

What Lance needed was a plan.  

Despite what nearly everyone said and what he himself perpetuated, Lance wasn’t stupid. In fact, he had a natural talent for strategy. He just chose to ignore it most often. But when a mission was at hand, when things became serious, Lance’s mind was essential. 

This situation, however, was a bit out of his league. As an agent, Lance’s specialties didn’t lie in breaking and entering or stealth recon or thieving or basically anything that could help him get into the classified files. If necessary he could do it, but he specialized in missions relating to people, in securing alliances or getting information from a target. He wasn’t bad at stealth and he happened to be skilled in both close and distance combat, but he was most certainly not good enough at it to easily break into the headquarters of those who were perhaps the most experienced in this field. 

His biggest obstacle was the aisle toward the file room. Not only was it technologically protected, but the hallway was heavily monitored with cameras and guards who paced without rest. Additionally, it was a no magic zone. 

No magic zones were highly rare, most people feeling bare and naked without their powers. They were the very reason it had been necessary for Lance to learn hand to hand combat and master his weapon of choice, a gun. 

When Lance first chose a weapon, he’d been attracted to the gun because of its precision, the focus and concentration it demanded. He preferred the sniper because it just looked cool. Once he told Hunk this and the older boy shook his head disapprovingly and reminded him that it was a weapon with great potential to kill. Lance simply responded that magic had the potential to do worse. 

Now, he was eternally grateful for his developed skills since the vents and his sniper would prove to be the most important factors of his upcoming mission. 

At midnight, Lance regretfully had to leave the sanctity of his bed, stretching his legs until his toes barely reached the ground. Carefully he lowered himself onto the floor and closed his eyes drawing in the quintessence until it surrounded him, securing him within the safety that night provided. 

He needn’t worry about Keith finding him sneaking out since the Mullet still hadn’t returned to their joint room. 

Lance’s plan was very, well sketchy. It revolved around the idea that Blade missions generally took place at night and therefore the base would be more abandoned during the day. Thus he would enter the quarters at night but wait until the day had come to attempt to enter the file room.

To some, this would make no sense, but in reality, it was essential to success. The night provided no security indoors with the bright lights and his powers would be useless in a no magic area anyway. 

Lance snuck across to the closet, shifting the clothes to one side so that the back wall was completely bare. He placed his hand on the wall, shifting the matter of the panel into sand until it drained away revealing a hidden compartment. The mechanism had been built by Hunk so that Lance could hide his suits and weapons. Once he grabbed what he needed, he shifted the clothes back to hide the evidence and Lance began suiting up in his gear. 

With a click, his mask covered his face and he strapped his chosen gun to his back under his backpack. It was a long and thin sniper, extremely expensive and lucrative, given to him by the Blade itself. He also loaded the backpack with tranquilizer darts and bullets. Finally, he shut down his phone and shoved it in the front pocket. 

And with that, he jumped out the window. 

When Lance finally arrived at the Blade headquarters, having hot-wired a car lying on campus, he was feeling less and less certain about his plan. 

“God is this even worth it, why the fuck did I choose to do this? Man, I’m stupid stupid stupid” he muttered, banging his head repeatedly on the steering wheel. 

He gripped the wheel tightly and determined. “You can do this. How many missions have you done before? You’re Lance, you kick ass and take names. You can do this.”

Finally, he got up, hand fisting the air, with fake confidence that he hoped would be enough to convince himself (it wasn’t). 

Once out of the car, Lance eyed the small door hiding within the beaten-down neighborhood and hideous storefront. Here came his first obstacle: Rolo. 

Lance and Rolo were fairly well acquainted, Lance having been fooled by him on a previous mission. It had been an embarrassing moment that had fueled him to later capture the man in an attempt to restore his dignity. But Lance had always been good at reading people, understanding the why behind the what. He saw Rolo, a stoned man who had been stealing from the Blade, as someone who could be better and he offered his hand. And apparently, Rolo had seen something in the cold eyes of the mask, something that made him take it. Now Leandro and Rolo were friends, and if the time came when there was no need to seal away his identity then he would hope Lance and Rolo could be friends too. 

But currently, Lance couldn’t risk it and he knew that Rolo would be a formidable opponent even if he looked like a bored employee of a dying food chain. 

As he always did, Lance darkened the quintessence around him and snuck to the windows. The neon open sign glowed bright and the white lights of the shop revealed the sole counter with pizza boxes piled high. 

Rolo sat, casual to anyone who wasn’t looking closely, anyone who didn’t know the weapons under the counter, who didn’t know of Rolo’s illusion magic. But looking closer revealed shifting eyes, a tense pose, and a calm yet alert demeanor.

As mentioned, Rolo was a formidable opponent. Thus the key was Rolo never seeing him. In the darkness of night, Lance’s powers gave him the advantage in this. The next step was finding a way to silently gain access to the room and shutting down the lights in there as well. Here, his power over matter was important. But Lance didn’t solely rely on his faction powers which was the major weakness of the factions themselves. He studied the art of base magic as well and had reached its full potential. Base magic itself was very limited, mostly dealing with telekinesis and illusion. Very advanced users could use conjuration to bring spirits and familiars to life. 

Because Rolo was very talented in illusion magic he could identify it easily so Lance knew he couldn’t use that. Telekinesis was the key. He waited, waited for the poor customer who opened the jingling door during which Lance used his magic to pull the man’s shoes toward him effectively tripping him. The man’s flailing was so terrible, his fall so dramatic Lance nearly laughed. As the door closed, and the shop’s walls blocked his powers, he could only see through the storefront windows as his diversion flew around the shop, knocking down pamphlets and posters. He saw Rolo laughing while helping the man up and at this moment he placed his hand on a brick to the side of the window, turning it to dust and opening a space for him to slip a smaller gun’s head through and shoot the lights out.  

Chaos broke out within the shop, Lance’s abilities now had to remain hidden. If he was witnessed using faction powers, he would be in great danger of being discovered, especially by an agency like the Blade. He burst through the door, the shop now in darkness and Lance’s suit blending in. He didn’t need the safety of quintessence with the chaos he had created. With a swift move he shot Rolo with a tranquilizer and he fell to the floor with a loud thud. Lance cringed knowing his friend was sure to have a splitting headache afterward. Sorry, he thought. 

Next, he thrust his hand out, and with a small flick of the wrist a napkin holder slammed into the back of the other man’s head and he fell as well. Lance yet again had to resist the urge to laugh. 

He skipped over the unconscious men, grabbing Rolo’s employee tag, and jumped over the counter. He pressed the tag on the pad and the back door to the “kitchen” opened revealing the Blade’s entrance. With this, he slipped inside. 

The entrance to the Blade was illuminated by purple at night and there were no cameras in the hallway. This was his sole place of action and he had thought hard about how to avoid entering the main plaza. Pocketing Rolo’s tag he looked upward to the vent. 

Lance could feel his flow, the confrontation with Rolo having imbued him with confidence. The adrenaline within him made his heartbeat escalate, but it cleared his mind. His general stream of consciousness was quiet as he grabbed the plant in the hallway with his gloved hands and dumped its contents onto the floor. Using the dumped material he created a solid block with which he could reach the vent above. He turned the screws to dust and carefully removed the vent, placing it on the floor. 

His arms burned slightly as he slowly lifted himself up into the vent before using telekinesis to bring the block below with him where he left it as a pile of dirt. 

Crawling through the vents, Lance muffled his movements with his power of energy and would pause in front of the grates to watch the Blade members below. Finally, he reached the ladder that would take him down to the file level. It was at the bottom of this ladder that he waited to make his move, waited till the light of day.

Reaching the grate over the aisle, he also reached the hardest part of his journey. Harsh looking soldiers, with multitudes of guns and swords, seemed to stare Lance down. 

For the first time in his life, Lance could not feel the buzz of magic within his body. He was without the safety of his powers, with only himself to rely on. Lance was not one of the people who relied on their magic to the degree that without it they were helpless, and in his head, he knew it. But the feeling of not having it at all felt as if he had been stripped down to his bones. He felt naked, the warmth that usually flowed through his veins was cold.

But Lance persevered. Carefully he removed the gun from his back and placed it through the openings of the vent. He centered the scope on the cameras first, aiming for the wires protruding from the back. Hunk had engineered bullets that would record the camera's feed and begin a loop of ten minutes.

One by one he shot the cameras, the devices attaching to the wires and corrupting the system. Once the last was shot he counted ten minutes and loaded his gun with silent tranquilizers.

Shooting moving and alert targets was much different than cameras but Lance was an experienced shooter. Once the cameras started looping he would have approximately ten minutes before it would become too obvious. There were three guards. One stood by the door, the next paced the first third of the hall, and the second the rest of the aisle. 

Lance shot the one standing by the door first while the other two had their backs turned to him. Thus when the first turned to face the other way and saw the other soldier on the floor he promptly fell forward as well. With two down, the final one had no chance against Lance’s skills. Camera’s disabled and guards down, Lance dropped out of the vent and grabbed Rolo’s card to access the door. Every Blade member had access to the files, but guards would only let you pass with evidence of permission. 

He set the camera devices to self destruct in ten minutes and removed the tranquilizers, shoving them in his backpack.

The file room was smaller than Lance would have expected. Over time the Galra had eliminated many enemies and greatly reduced faction sizes so that members were quite rare. Therefore, there were not nearly as many files as there used to be. 

For a second Lance paused and began to panic as he considered something he should have thought about before. What the fuck was Keith’s last name? 

He nearly cried with relief when he found the divider labeled “Keith Galra” (which he thought sounded like the stupidest and fakest name every created). 

Eagerly he opened the folder, excited to finally know Keith’s secrets. But instead, Lance looked upon a document filled with absolutely nothing. 

Nothing. 

The only thing filled in was 

Affiliations: The Galran Family 

Rapidly his eyes scanned up and down the single page. He has to have missed something. He flipped the page over to the other side which he soon discovered was completely blank. His mind skipped from line to line, only to find a repetitive pattern. 

Date of Birth: Unknown 

Current Residence: Unknown 

Family: Unknown 

Aliases: Unknown 

Strengths: Unknown 

Powers: Unknown 

Weaknesses: Unknown 

On the bottom it read: 

Everything in this file is uncertain and subject to suspicion  

Lance’s head was spinning so quickly he felt like fainting. What was happening here? 

Nothing in the file made sense, some of the things listed unknown were common knowledge. Keith was an elemental with power only over fire so why did it say unknown?  

Lance normally received thick files that were filled with grades, resumes and police records. Never once had he seen a file less than ten pages, much less a single page with only one side. 

This had to be a mistake. He began pulling files out with abandon from every shelf around him, flipping through them urgently. 

Lubos-  

Affiliations: The Olkari: Subject has been widely recognized as the -  

The Galran Family: It has been confirmed by inside sources that- 

He kept going throwing files on the floor and rapidly skimming them. Each one was at least a centimeter thick and fell to the floor loudly. 

Allura Altea- 

Powers: as a member of the faction of energy- last of the Altean family line-  

subject displays powerful control-  

quintessence-  

the field of healing magic- 

Lance spun around in circles, surrounded by files on the floor, files packed with useless information. 

Yet the one file he needed held nothing.

At least Kolivan hadn’t been lying.  

He closed his eyes, letting his frantic confusion calm, but when he opened them he noticed something at the edge of his vision. 

Right next to his foot was a fairly thick file and just the tops of the papers stuck out in a little fan. At the top of the paper, it read: Katie Holt  

Lance quickly grabbed the file and ran his hand over the front of it, wondering why Pidge would be in the Blade databases. 

The camera audio in the hallway still worked so Lance had to contain his gasp when he opened their file. 

Aliases: Pidge Gunderson, Green Paladin 

Affiliations: Voltron- Subject is a member of Voltron having been a part of the Voltron Coalition and rising when- 

Subjects brother Matt Holt is an active Blade member-  

father Sam Holt provides technology and research to the Blade of Marmora- 

joined upon brother and father’s disappearance- 

Lance was overwhelmed by information. One of his best friends was an agent of Voltron? And how did the Blade know their identity? Wasn’t it supposed to be a secret? Voltron was an elite program with only five major spots available. From what Lance had been told only the Black and Green positions had been filled. One of those was Pidge?

Suddenly his heart stopped, eyes widened and a wave of dread flooded over him making his limbs feel heavy and terrified. 

Current Residence: Subject resides in the Garrison on a mission to find the Chaos and report back to Voltron- 

Shit. 

Find the Chaos. 

Lance was fucked. 

Chapter Text

Lance had the unfortunate luck of being seated directly behind the same malicious evildoer that he suspected of carrying out the world’s destruction. To some extent that was an overstatement, and Lance lacked “actual” evidence, but his suspicions still remained. It was purely unintentional that he was constantly in close proximity to Keith, but it seemed chance always directed them to one another: roommates, sitting near each other in class, and obviously when Lance “stalked” him. 

Originally he was willing to accept it might all be due to the strange characteristics of coincidence, until what had happened that particular day in a Non-Magic Combat Training which was required for his course. It was that instant, in that moment, that Lance began to believe in the work of fate. Keith and Lance had personally been assigned by the teacher to be sparring partners. To say the least, this was not a coincidence. It certainly didn’t feel like one to Lance.

The professor had explained all the details for longer than Lance had been willing to listen, and Lance’s mind was distracted with the information he had acquired at the Blade, so who could blame him for spacing out a little.

How was he expected to focus on skills that he had studied years before when he knew that one of his best friends was actively investigating him?

When he questioned Keith about the exact project they were assigned, Keith was not particularly pleased with having to re-explain the long winded speech the professor had just given. So he went with a short version that was somewhat confusing, but perhaps satisfying for someone with as little interest in school as Lance.

"It's a field study, partners versus partners. That means we're training together today. Next time, just pay attention.” 

"Like you pay attention... We all know you're not the sharpest tool in the box,” Lance snidely remarked, hair already standing on edge.

Keith gritted his teeth and tensed up, it was clear he was biting back harsh words. He instead gave Lance an intense glare and crossed his arms defensively. 

"Clearly I pay more attention than you. Now could you shut up?" Keith settled for a pretty tame comeback, but before Lance had the chance to proudly spit out a witty (by his standards) remark, Keith already was rushing into the direction of the small “arena”. Now Lance was no idiot and he could tell that Keith was annoyed with him, but it wasn’t truly his fault. It was the fact that the pretentious jerk was too caught up with his family's "divine" power and found the "lessers" of the world to be an annoyance. Lance wasn't irritating. Keith was just a bastard.

Lance trailed behind him as Keith rushed hurriedly through hallways towards the arena. Silly as it was, Lance felt a little nervous, not that he would admit it. Sparring with Keith? He would win, there was no doubt. Yet, if by the smallest, puniest chance there was a misthrown punch or a misstep in his footwork, and Keith won... Would he even be worthy to investigate him? How could he have the right to challenge Keith if he isn't even able to defeat him in a mere sparring match? The insecurities that flooded his mind were irrational, yet Lance couldn't stop second guessing himself. Something about Keith’s weaknesses didn’t sit with him, didn’t feel right.

And after seeing Keith’s file his suspicion that Keith was more threatening, more evil than he seemed, had only grown.

Lance didn’t know why Keith had such control over him, made him feel things that he couldn’t describe. The boy who everyone called lame and weak had so much power over him, and he didn’t even know why. 

He needed to win and prove to himself that he was capable of defeating Keith in the future, when the consequences would be real. When it wouldn't be a sparring match. When it would be both their lives on the line fighting for the outcome of their world. This was not something Lance could lose.

Lance didn’t know why he felt so distinctly sad when he thought about Keith’s future. Eventually they would meet in battle, one of them representing the rebellion and one of them representing evil.

"Hey?" Keith's voice immediately snapped Lance out of his thoughts and brought him back to reality. "Focus. We don't have time to daydream. This is important, okay? 

Keith was surprisingly invested in this assignment, more than Lance would have suspected. But Keith didn’t seem to care about much in school so why the hell would he be invested in some random school project? 

Finally Lance concluded that Keith was most likely attempted to confuse him, to act scholarly and prestigious simply to throw him off the trail, but Lance wasn’t going to fall for such a weak attempt at trickery.

"Alright Mullet, whatever you say," Lance grinned, pleased with himself for figuring out Keith's secret plan of diversion. Now he felt confident that he could outsmart the Galran if it ever came down to a battle of the wits. Not that it was ever really a concern, but it was definitely confirmed considering Lance had figured out Keith's little plan. 

Keith side-eyed him, but ignored the blissful and satisfied tone of Lance's voice. Lance just assumed it was because Keith couldn’t be bothered to question why others acted as they did.

In the locker room, Lance pulled on his gloves, put on his mouth guard and completely ignored the helmet that was 'mandatory' to wear. In his opinion, the helmet was an unnecessary addition in simple sparring and the coaches never cared enough anyway. 

He slid under the ropes into the fighting arena and saw Keith already inside throwing a few punches at an invisible target. Keith gave Lance a small glance of acknowledgement, but then continued on without any other form of communication. Lance didn't feel the need to show off his talent beforehand, he simply needed to prove himself when the match began. He leaned against the tight ropes of the arena and folded his arms together. It was uncomfortable waiting for Keith to finish, but eventually the professor ordered them to begin their first match. Lance tightened the velcro on his gloves and paced over to the center of the arena. He brought his fists higher to guard his face and widened his stance, then he stood on the tip of his toes and lightly bounced so to remain alert and swift. 

"Don't screw this up, we have to impress Allura," Lance warned Keith, who clearly wasn't taking any shit from him. 

"Your desperation to prove yourself in front of your crush doesn't matter here."

"Jealous?" 

"In your dreams," Keith sighed, finding it difficult to ignore Lance's nonsense, "I'll take care of it, so don't worry your pretty little head."

"So you think I'm pretty?" Lance grinned and even snuck in a wink, seeing the glaring opportunity to flirt.

"It's just an expression!" 

The teacher blew the whistle, and Lance could immediately feel adrenaline rush through his blood and sharpen his senses. He saw every little detail of his opponent, every little step and every little breath of his own lungs. He honed in on Keith and took the first swing, lunging his fist towards the side of his head. His opponent ducked under the hit and took a few light jumps back. Lance had to admit that it seemed like Keith was agile and good on his feet. 

Keith sprang forward heaving his weight into a roundhouse kick that nearly grazed the front of Lance's bangs as he fumbled backwards. Lance regained his balance and positioned his stance to optimise his agility.

"I’m not gonna hold back anymore," Lance warned his rival as he bolted towards Keith head first with a hell of a lot of epinephrine. He knew what to do; distract, overwhelm, and then attack while the irons hot. One jab to his chest, then swiftly, but with force, come at him with a hook. While Keith eagerly blocked what was thrown at him, Lance initiated the second part of his attack and swung a roundhouse kick to his ribs, knowing he could then get his chance to sweep Keith of his feet and pound him into the ground. Suddenly his opponent ducked down low to the ground, dodging the kick, and then immediately pushing his body weight into the air, pulling back his shoulder and thrust his fist full of force into Lance's nose.

With a gasp, Lance stumbled backwards, almost tipping over onto the arena floor. But he stubbornly kept standing, quickly putting pressure on his freshly injured nose. He wiped the blood that began to drip down his nostril, "Could you watch the face?!! Not really wearing a helmet here!"

"I thought we weren't holding back."

Deeply irritated, Lance made mocking faces, repeating Keith’s words in a dopey and dramatic tone. Then he angrily released the pressure from his nose and dramatically flung his arms in the air, ignoring the blood. "Doesn't mean to go for the nose! No one goes for the nose in a training session! It's broken now! You clearly have no aim!"

"Pretty damn good aim in my opinion," Keith mumbled, but Lance had reached his breaking point. While Keith wasn’t looking, the Cuban unexpectedly jumped on him, brutally pushing Keith to the ground and pinning him down. For a second they stared at one another, Lance holding Keith’s wrists tightly above the Galran’s head in a position far more suggestive than he intended. Keith’s eyes were bright and wide, slightly shocked as they silently waited for the other to speak, but he made no move to break the hold. Neither were even breathing. Finally, they broke out of their reverie and sprung into tense action yet again, both of them feeling fairly awkward.

He would have beat the living shit out of Keith if it wasn't for the sound of the coach's whistle that stopped them from engaging in any further aggression. Lance bounced off of him and continued yelling threats of how he intends to "get revenge" and next time he wouldn’t "play fair". 

Keith merely rolled his eyes at all the empty threats, but Lance's insecurity and pride made it difficult for him to get over the fact that Keith had actually gotten past his "sharp defense”. That hit hurt more than his nose.

"Get over it Lance.” Keith groaned. “It was one punch! Just admit you couldn't block it.”

"Admit you weren't playing fair!"

"The helmet is mandatory for a reason!” 

"Oh, fuck off." 

Back in the locker room, Lance was given an ice pack and a firm lecture on his actions.

"He punched my nose and probably broke it!"

"You knew the consequences when you didn't wear a helmet and not only have you disobeyed the dress code but you aggressively attacked him when the match ended."

The coach told him to stay in the locker room and consider his actions so Lance sat in the corner brooding, sulking and pretending not to have heard a word coach had said. Abruptly, he realized he was most certainly not alone and Mullet was drinking water a few feet away by the fountain. 

Lance took a moment to breathe in and out to calm himself down. At least he was aware that Keith made him irrationally mad. The silence that accompanied the obvious anger at one another could have been sliced with a knife. Lance huffed a few times, trying to express his discontent and Keith silently continued gulping down water (seriously was the guy a camel?).

Lance found himself staring at the sweat on Keith’s neck, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down. He then realized this was very weird and instead stared at his shoes, worried Keith had noticed. 

Both of them turned their heads when the doorknob to the locker room opened. To their surprise, Pidge entered and set off an awkward three way staring contest that neither Lance nor Keith were willing to break. 

"Alright geez, didn't mean to intrude on the obvious sexual tension. Should I leave so you two can make out?"

Lance immediately flipped the not so friendly finger at both Keith and Pidge, "Maybe you should make out with him considering you want me to so much!"

Keith awkwardly scratched the back of his head and shuffled a little further away from the both of them, "Am I missing something here?" 

 "Yeah, you are, Pidge is obviously in love with you!" Lance blurted out, pointing an accusing finger directly at Pidge, who in turn held their hands up in defense with a bored look. 

"Is that, uh, is that true?" Keith tilted his head in confusion (Lance did not think this was cute), clearly not reading the situation. His sharp eyebrows (were they plucked?) were furrowed and his nose was scrunched up (not cute he repeats not cute). 

"Negative," Pidge confirmed, "Anyway... Lance, I came here to speak to you about something." 

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I know we agreed to put it past us, but I just need to know-"

"No, forget it. Please, Pidge, leave it alone."  

Keith side-eyed Lance, but knew better than to get involved into any dispute, considering what had previously happened at the arena.

"Listen, I asked around and everyone says the same thing, your grades just magically dropped from A's to D's. I know you're hiding something, I need to know what it is."

Keith scoffed and Lance gave him a glare that immediately shut him up. 

The excuses came next.

"I told you, I turned dumb... I had a brain injury?- I'm just so damn popular!"

Pidge was incredulous. “All of a sudden... when you turned 15, you turned dumb, had a brain injury and became popular.”

The only thing Lance hadn't accounted for was his rival who had heard every word. He hadn't noticed Keith's muscles tense up and his eyes widen ever so slightly as Pidge's words sunk in. He didn't notice the look of pure astonishment that filled the Galran son's eyes for a glimpse of a moment, for a fraction of a second. He didn't notice Keith slip into a pretense of relaxation. While Lance rattled off all the reasons of his innocence, he failed to acknowledge the look deep within the piercing eyes of his rival who stood beside him. 

Lance groaned at Pidge's dissatisfaction and constant questioning, "C'mon Pidge we'll talk later." He eyed Keith, clearly showing his discomfort talking about the issue in front of him any longer.

"Alright but-"

"Bye Mullet," Lance pulled Pidge by the wrist and ran out of the locker room before they had a chance to reveal any more personal shit about him.

Both of them paced down the hallway on their way towards the dorms. It was far, at least from the arena. That meant Pidge had time to talk about everything that had happened in their day and everything they thought might happen the next day. He was supposed to be the one who wouldn't shut up, not the other way around. At least Pidge had given up on the mysterious case of his dropping grades and moved on to other topics... Even if that other topic happened to be primarily based on school.  

They passed through the teachers building, which was not not allowed, as a shortcut to their own rooms. The conference room seemed to be actively in use as they could hear the low voices of teachers discussing who the hell knew what. Honestly, the doors were far too thin. Whatever they were saying didn't concern Lance in the slightest, that is until he heard Allura's name mentioned. He stopped in his tracks and blocked out Pidge's constant droning voice to hear more of what was said behind the thin walls of the conference room. Pidge turned around after they noticed Lance was no longer pacing next to them. 

"You okay?" They looked back at Lance concerned.

"Oh, me? Yeah fine," Lance blanked on what to tell Pidge but then the lies just naturally came to him, "Well, actually, I completely forgot my phone back in the locker room.” 

"C'mon Lance, seriously? I'm not going back with you."

Lance shrugged apologetically.

Pidge’s face scrunched up in confusion but he quickly turned around to make his way back to the lockers only to stop at the nearest corner and wait for Pidge to completely disappear from sight. Then he hurried back to the exact room he heard Allura's name mentioned. He pressed his ear against the wall and prayed he would get some sort of valuable information. 

The voices were low but he knew the higher one was definitely Allura, he could recognize her accent from miles away. The other was a man, perhaps Coran?

“-this object could be of endless importance Princess-“ 

“we don’t even know who the Chaos is. And if we did, how do we know if they will even be on our side? The Chaos is an unreliable ally, we never know when they will lose it just as others did before them.”

“They’ve lasted this long, haven’t they?”

“We have no idea how old they are Coran” Allura’s clipped voice replied, terse and logical. 

“But Princess what if -“

 Allura’s voice cut Coran off. “Absolutely not Coran. You and I both know that would be impossible.” 

There was a moment of uncertain silence. 

“Princess,” Coran ventured, Lance had to lean forward to hear the quieter words. “Even if we cannot use the Chaotic Bayard we should make sure the Galra cannot.”

“I cannot, will not risk my agents on a whim! May I remind you that we have only found two of our agents. We have no Blue, Yellow or Red Paladin! Losing Black and Green would be disastrous. And as good as the agents are, they are not suited for this type of work.”

What was the Chaotic Bayard? Why were they talking about him? These past few days had been too much. 

“Hello Lance,” came a deep voice right in his ear. The Cuban jumped nearly five feet in the air in surprise cussing Kolivan out for taking years off his life. 

“Kolivan: you ass!” 

The older elemental was unamused and just quietly stared Lance down.

Lance crumbled immediately (Kolivan was fantastic at interrogation). 

“Ok ok I know I was eavesdropping but as an agent you should want me to be always listening. In fact, you should totally be applauding me like right now, seriously.” 

“Would you like to come in and listen officially?”

“Wait seriously? I did not think that would work”

He sheepishly followed Kolivan in and gave a small wave to Allura whose eyebrow was arched high and Coran who was grinning widely.

“Ah my young boy. You really shouldn’t eavesdrop like that, you see my grandpa-“

“Coran, I don’t think now is the time,” Allura interrupted before he could launch into an hour long story about his life. 

“Hello Lance,” Allura’s accented voice greeted. A while ago that would have sent Lance into La La Land but Allura had grown into a good friend rather than meaningless crush.  

“Yeah, hey guys,” he said, his hand playing with the back of his neck. “So what exactly is the Chaotic Bayard?”

“Coran?”

“My pleasure princess. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about the Chaos but I’m sure you’ve never heard the truth about the Chaos’s powers. Ah, my great great great uncle figured out the truth ages ago. He was a genius! A beautiful man of intellect and creativity who was just sitting on the floor when he thought to himself: What was the truth? And although many, many people questioned it, he was the only one to follow up on it. It’s like the old proverb says ‘a man-‘“

Allura cleared her throat loudly. 

“Yes, yes sorry Princess. A Chaos at full power is capable of great, great magic. Because of the world’s conditions and the persecution of the Chaos, we have never seen their power at its full potential. In fact, it’s been so long, records of them are practically non existent. But the Chaos of old was a force that could command the material of the universe in the blink of an eye. And it was rumored that there was a weapon that lasted throughout the centuries, that would morph to fit the soul of whichever Chaos wielded it. A weapon that could change to best fit the situation. If the Chaos possessed the Bayard, their power would increase immensely, my boy. Unfortunately, recent intelligence has revealed that the Galra possess it.”

Lance listened intently, the information pertinent to his being. He was in shock, there were apparently dimensions to his own powers far beyond those he knew. And a weapon, hand crafted for him that perfectly matched its user? 

“But I refuse to put my people in danger for a weapon that we ourselves cannot use!” Allura exclaimed angrily. “We have no idea the intentions or the powers of the Chaos. The character is shrouded in so much mystery and surrounded by rumors it is impossible to know anything about the entity at all? Don’t forget Coran, the Chaos is not born a hero, they are simply a person. And a person can be evil, cowardly, weak.”

There was a moment of silence, Allura recovering her breath, Coran at a loss on how to approach the subject and Lance considering her words. He himself didn’t know much about the Chaos, and he was the Chaos. He had no clue why he hadn’t followed the same pattern the others had. Lance was just as in the dark as they were.  

Finally Kolivan’s gruff voice suggested, “what if one of my agents retrieves the Bayard?” 

“You cannot be sure of their discretion.”

Kolivan waited for a minute, not responding to her. A look of realization slowly overtook her face and she released a small “oh” as her eyes shifted to Lance.

Kolivan turned to Lance.  

“Agent Leandro, your next mission, should you choose to accept it (cliche much Kolivan) is to retrieve the Chaotic Bayard from the Galran residence.”

Well at least this time he was supposed to be breaking and entering. 

Chapter Text

The mission was simple, or at least according to Kolivan it was. The Galra base- or essentially Keith’s home- was stationed a mere hundred miles away so Lance would only have to drive for about 2 hours. Only.

Yet again Kolivan’s intel proved far too informative and detailed to avoid Allura’s rapid suspicion. However, this time Lance was forever thankful for the exact pathway to take down the hall, who would be guarding said pathways and how to take them out. 

Fortunately, there was nothing within the outer passages besides sentries, not even cameras. Just as the Blade were suspicious of technology, Kolivan reported that the Galra were as well, despite their heavy use of it to regulate their empire. Within the Galran base was a different story though as there were surprisingly but conveniently no cameras. 

This made it much, much easier to break in. Officers, sentries and commanders ignored the inner sanctum where the Bayard was displayed.

When Lance finally arrived at his entrance point, decked out in the ominous Blade suit, he was certain that this mission would be a stress free and simple operation. He knew exactly what he had to do and the Blade were far more paranoid than the Galra whose overconfidence worked heavily to his advantage.

He popped up his mask and pulled out his gun, a rifle this time rather than a sniper. It was equipped with a silencer so Lance could easily shoot sentries without alerting others nearby. 

Keith’s home was a palace, grand and intimidating as all hell. It stood on the top of the hill, imposing with its giant columns and thick gates surrounding it. On the actual grounds it seemed dead, only a few trees and statues spaced out over the grass. Lance knew, however, that despite how dead it seemed the activity underneath was never ending. Galran commanders discussed plans, sentries guarded the passes and officers monitored camera feeds and incoming intelligence. In fact, one of the departments underneath that very building were spearheading the investigation into the Chaos, desperately attempting to find his identity.

He was meant to enter through a side passage that would lead to the inside of the actual house rather than the underground base. It was in the house that the Bayard remained. 

They had planned to steal it today because the Galran Emperor and Empress were both gone and the only other resident being Keith himself should mean that the upper level would be nearly empty. 

He made quick work of the sentries, shooting them all squarely in the neck where their most essential wires ran. He watched as they all sparked and short circuited before collapsing on one another. He grabbed the Blade sword attached to his belt and hacked off the hand of one sentry. He pressed it against the pad and the doors swished open.

The hallway in front of him was lit up with a soft dark magenta glow and the empire’s symbol could be found on every flat surface. Lance took a deep breath, slung his gun over his shoulder and stepped into the hall. 

His mission had officially begun. 

He walked quietly but confidently in the halls, for the first time in a while completely unworried about being spotted on cameras. 

The next sentry barely had time to recognize that there was an intruder before it too became scrap metal. Lance made quick work of the sentries within the halls having come across these enemies many times before. I look so cool right now he allowed himself to think, relaxing slightly. 

He made his way down the hall, winding through the passages exactly as he had been briefed to do. 

He had just begun thinking that things were surprisingly easy for a mission of this caliber when he heard the slice of a sword coming from a hall to the left of him. 

Immediately he tensed, knowing that sentries didn’t carry swords. From the way it sounded the sword had to be wielded by a person. Additionally Lance couldn’t feel any magic around him (a certain perk of the House of Energy) which means the person was not using magic, just like Lance.

When Lance didn’t have to use magic he never did. Not only did he not want the Blade knowing he was pretending to be weak but he was also paranoid that the more he used his powers the more he would be in danger of discovery. However, despite his unwillingness to use magic it was rare he found someone else who avoided magic completely not even using illusion or other base level magic. Because everyone had them agents often found them safer to your identity and therefore Lance was in the minority in saying he avoided those as well.

And thus the questioned remained: Who else was here?

Quickly his mind ran through the options as he crouched at the mouth of the hallway that opened up to the joint hallway ahead.

He came up with nothing.

It couldn’t be the Black or Green Paladins because Allura knew he was here. Kolivan had sent Lance so it wasn’t a Blade member.

People flashed through his head and each one was rejected. Lance took his gun out, getting ready to see whoever came out of the dark hallway.

Within the minute a figure revealed itself.

Their suit was black and similar to a Blade’s suit but had red marks on the sides. The marks looked like they had been painted with their fingers, messily done but almost eerie.

The body was slim and muscular (exactly how Lance liked them) while also being a couple inches shorter than him.

Their face was covered by a black mask that only obscured the bottom half.

Not wearing a full mask meant this person was confident, wasn’t worried about being seen or caught. Lance immediately knew this person was either very dangerous or stupidly cocky.

The figure was wearing fingerless gloves and one hand held a curved, black sword. Another of the same was still sheathed on his back.

As they stepped into the light Lance could make out more of them.

They had jet black hair with shifting eyes. Eyes that-

“Keith?!”

In hindsight, Lance probably shouldn’t have blurted that out. 

Within the second, he found himself on his back, a sword tip at his throat.

Beautiful violet eyes stared at him, analyzing him quickly and searching his body. As he glanced towards Lance’s chest he saw the Blade crest and slowly the sword was removed from his throat allowing him to sigh in relief (and curb the arousal that was extremely inappropriate at that time).

“Wow dude, kind of a stab first ask questions later guy huh,” Lance ventured, cutting through the tense silence as the shorter boy quietly sized him up.

Keith tensed up immediately upon hearing his voice. He lowered his mask revealing his pretty jawline and lips, lips that Lance maybe stared at for a little too long. For analytical purposes of course.

“Lance?”

Shit.

“What???” Lance questioned with a high pitched voice, drawing out the syllables. “I’m not Lance! Who is this Lance you speak of? Maybe I can help you find him? Or maybe you’re Lance and you’re trying to throw me off?”

“That’s not gonna work on me,” Keith snapped angrily.

Double shit.

“What’s not gonna work on you?”

“Is this your goddamn strategy every time? I swear to fuck.”

“Is what my-“

The sword was back at his throat immediately. 

“Fine! Fine! It’s me just don’t kill me, you lunatic!”

Lance frantically waved his arms in surrender trying desperately to remember if he had anything white on his person to wave around and ask for a truce. He deactivated his mask sheepishly. 

The weight of what was happening was beginning to sink in. Keith had seen the Blade symbol which meant his cover and identity were blown. There were two possible outcomes. Either the Galra knew about the Blade and Keith would turn him in to his family or the Galra didn’t know about the Blade and Lance would be to blame for their discovery. 

Was this it? Was this where Lance and Keith came to an end, where they would fight to the death?

Despite Lance’s powers and Keith’s weak abilities, the Cuban was not prepared to take on the Galran son.

For some reason he had always hoped he would never have to, that someone else would deal with it.

“Hey Keith, buddy. What’s up my dude?”

“Lance? What the fuck are you doing here?” Keith questioned, a mixture of angry, exasperated and confused.

“What the fuck am I doing here- What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Keith ignored his question in favor of manhandling Lance as he examined the suit and his weapons. Suddenly he stilled and turned him around till they were face to face. 

“Why did the Blade send you here?”

Ok so Keith knew about the Blade. If this was better or worse, he didn’t know.

Lance looked at Keith, raking his eyes up and down his frame. Suddenly, a thought struck him as Keith’s outfit registered in his mind.

“Wait a minute… You’re not supposed to be here! You’re sneaking into your own home!” 

Keith stalled and the two of them stood there in dead silence.

Finally Keith broke the silence, “You’re here to get the Chaotic Bayard aren’t you?”

For the tenth time that night, Lance’s blood ran cold as shock coursed through his body. 

He was finally forced to face a reality that he had both feared and denied. Keith was far more dangerous than anyone expected, far more intelligent than he let on. He was clearly hiding things, hiding his potential. But why? Even the Galra regraded Keith with contempt. Or did they? Maybe this was their ploy?

Maybe Keith wasn’t powerful magically, but despite what Pidge and Hunk said, this didn’t matter. In fact, it made Keith a whole lot scarier.

Keith had become more mysterious in mere seconds, questions popping up endlessly in Lance’s head.

How did Keith know?

Why is he here?

What is he hiding?

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck.” Keith cursed repeatedly. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Really god, really?” He looked up at the sky gesturing randomly. 

So Keith’s lost it huh.

“Hey, my man… you good over there?”

“No I’m not good. I’m pretty fucking bad actually. Who sent you? If it was Allura Imma fucking lose it.” Each fucking had extra emphasis. 

Lance had no voice, in awe of this new, strange Keith. He eyed him like he was a foriegn creature. This wasn’t the Keith he knew, not at all.

“Lance, answer me!”

Um, how about no.

“How do you know about the Blade? What do you know about the Blade?”

“I've known about the Blade for a while now and before you get all uppity, I haven’t told the Galra yet.”

“You haven’t?! Why?”

Keith paused and seemed to consider this. 

“I’m saving it for when I really need to secure my place in the empire?” Keith supplied, but it sounded like a question as if he was testing whether or not Lance would believe him.

“Why are you uncertain?” 

“Why are you stupid?” Keith retorted before bringing his hand up to his face in deep regret. 

Lance reeled back shocked. What had happened to Keith? This wasn’t like him at all. The Keith he knew barely replied to Lance unless tormented for a very long time. And when they did argue he had never pulled the “no you” strategy.

“Oh my god, being around you is physically bringing down my intelligence. My brain cells are literally dying,” Keith whined. That was a little more like the Galran. But far more dramatic. 

But Keith’s recently discovered dramatics aside, he knew about the Blade but hadn’t told his family? 

”Look, Lance like it or not you're gonna tell me about your mission here, we don't have time for you to sit here and consider it like a dumbass. Wake up and smell the coffee, asshole.” 

”Jeez! Calm down, I'll tell you! No need to be so threatening! Yes it was Allura, ok? But how do you know about Allura? Oh and why the hell are you here?” Lance was approaching wits end. He was confused, scared and overwhelmed. Everything he thought he knew had been turned on its head in mere minutes. 

“Everyone whos anyone knows about Allura, she was never exactly the best kept secret” Keith explained, bored. “Besides… she stares at me a lot. And by stares I mean glares for like minutes straight. I don’t know if she thinks she’s being subtle about it but sometimes I question why she’s leading the rebellion.”

Lance snorted, unable to stop the amusement that came from the mixture of Keith’s dry wit and general bewilderment. 

“Shouldn’t that benefit you?” Lance asked playfully. They had slipped easily into a light conversation, something he would have never thought possible. 

Keith shrugged “Voltron doesn’t really do much to be honest.”

A gasp came, two parts offended one part amused. One small part of course. 

“Wow… ok I’m sorry Keith, Mr. High and Mighty unaffected by the actions of us simple mortals.”

He lifted his chin up in faux offense and pride. 

Keith scowled and crossed his arms defensively. “Are you implying you’re a member of the resistance?”

Lance froze, looking back at Keith who had gone from defensive to cocky far too quickly for Lance’s liking and who was smirking with a knowing arched eyebrow. 

“No?”

A scoff. 

“If you knew, why did you ask? Only assholes do that Keith. That’s lesson number one.”

“Of what, the class on how not to be an asshole?”

“Exactly. Lesson 2, no sarcastic questions.”

Then something very strange happened.

Keith smiled. 

Sure it was in exasperation and partially involuntary, but it had happened either way. 

Lance had made Keith smile. 

And with a joke no less. 

And with Keith’s involuntary smile came a wave of something Lance was most certainly unwilling to address. Something warm and far removed from hatred. 

“Uh, Lance?” Keith waved his hand in front of his face. 

Whoops, guess he’d been staring. 

“Anywayyyyy… you know why I’m here, so why are you here, Samurai?”

“Samurai?” came the incredulous question. 

“You know” Lance waved to the swords. “Cause you have those things.”

“Because I have ‘those things’” Keith parroted. “Eloquent as always.”

“Fuck off.”

“If you must know then I too am here for the Bayard.”

Now Lance was just bewildered. Why would Keith need to steal something his family already owned? 

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted. 

“Before you ask, my parents won’t allow me to touch it, so that’s why I’m resorting to this.”

“So this is just a hissy fit?” 

This prompted another scowl. “No.”

“Oh really, cause that’s what it sounds like to me.”

“Do I care what it sounds like to you?”

“Do you take anything seriously?” Suddenly the Cuban was angry. Very angry. “Is this all some kind of joke to you? Your family kills people, they subject people, treat everyone like objects.”

“Oh shut up Lance, you think I care?” Keith was getting angry too, his lips curling into an ugly sneer that fit perfectly with his sharp eyes. 

“How can you not?” he practically snarled, walking towards him. “They look down on you too Keith. You know that, right?”

The shorter of the two took a step forward as well. 

Lance continued to taunt him, “everyone looks down on you. Talks about how weak you are.”

He leaned down to talk directly in Keith’s ear. “No one will take you seriously when you become emperor. You aren’t powerful, you aren’t liked, not scary.”

There was a pause where the blue eyed soldier expected the other to retaliate. When no answer came, Lance continued. 

“No redeemable qualities” came the taunting and melodically sung words. “No power in general.”

Keith himself was unfazed. He turned his head so his lips were now near the taller’s ear. “And what if that’s what I want you to think” came the quiet and unsettling whisper. 

A shiver ran down Lance’s spine and the air between them crackled with intense electricity. 

If Pidge were here she would have made a comment about how they should just fuck already. 

A loud crash brought both of them to their senses as two heads turned on a swivel. 

A voice came floating down the hall. Lance couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but Keith had gone pale. More pale than usual. 

When Lance opened his mouth to speak, the other quickly covered it with his hand. His eyes begged him to be quiet. 

“I know him” Keith whispered very softly. “We need to get out of here now.”

“Who is it?”

“Sendak. A Galran commander who won’t give two shits that we’re kids or I’m the emperor's son. He’ll kill us before we say a word.”

The gun returned to Lance’s shoulder, ready to be used in an instant. The sword that was previously sheathed on Keith’s back was drawn. Lance’s mask was activated and Keith’s bandana returned to its original place. 

Quietly the two began to creep toward the next hallway. Both were aware that Sendak seeing their faces would bring disaster. 

Despite their efforts, apparently Sendak had found the destroyed sentries because everything was flashing red and loud sirens permeated throughout the halls.

Footsteps sounded down the hall forcing Keith and Lance to begin running. 

They turned a corner seeing multiple sentries thus signifying they were approaching the inner sanctum. 

Lance stopped to shoot a couple of sentries and then watch as Keith vaulted over the sentries he had shot, twisting in midair to kick one in the head and send it crashing to the ground. As one sentry turned to shoot him, Keith dropped to the ground, kicking the legs out from under them before using the sword to drive it through the wiring system. He then launched himself on top of the next, tackling from the ground and aiming at the legs. 

Lance continued to take out sentries but was distracted, in awe of Keith. He was pure fire, burning throughout the ranks of the enemy. Nothing came close to touching him as he fought and Lance couldn’t help but be enraptured. 

The two of them had no issue dealing with the sentries, running through the halls making them fall one by one. 

Footsteps continued to storm and gunshots continued to fire.

Eventually, when only piles of broken machines remained, Lance and Keith ran into a wall. Quite literally. 

A door blocked their path but the footsteps behind him were getting louder and louder. 

It wouldn’t open, no matter how many sentry hands were pressed against the panel. 

The whole place was on lockdown and there was no way out.

Lance and Keith were panicked, hearts racing as they glanced toward one another and back at the door repeatedly. 

“I don’t know what to do” came Lance’s resigned and terrified admission.

Keith was silent, “I do but…”

“If you know what to do, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

“Lance…”

“What Keith? We don’t have time for this!” Lance was urgently yelling now. He was terrified of being caught, this was the closest he had ever come. If they found his powers he would die for sure and they would hunt down his family, his friends. 

People needed him. 

The black clad thief remained silent, clearly weighing his options.

“Please Keith” Lance pleaded softly. 

When Keith finally looked back at Lance, there was a war raging within his eyes. A fierce battle of thoughts, a mixture of fear, adrenaline and worry. 

“I’m not worried about me, Lance.”

“Please.”

The Galran took a deep breath in before releasing it all loudly. He turned back to the door. 

“Lance, I've seen the blueprints and this door is steel. Pure steel.” 

Where was he going with this?

He turned back to look Lance straight in the eyes.

“Lance, I need you to turn it into wood.”

Oh god. He can’t know. Please no. 

Please.

Chapter Text

There had been a lot of moments in Lance’s life during which “fuck” had been his only train of thought. 

After he had met Keith, who tended to be very explicitly creative with his profanity, he had matured from a simple “fuck” to “fuck shit motherfucker”. 

Moments that required these explicatives often revolved around missions or his identity. 

When he had found out he was the Chaos, it had been more of a “holy shit” moment. Yet after the novelty of being fucking awesome and powerful for the first time ever wore off, he switched to a long, drawn out “fuck” often coupled with the phrase “what am I gonna do” or even interspersed within it. 

But nothing, nothing had ever come close to this

Never before had he felt so absolutely, undeniably fucked. Never before had he been so terribly screwed. 

Keith knew. 

Keith knew what no one else but Hunk did. 

Keith knew Lance’s deepest, darkest secret. 

Nothing in this world could have prepared Lance for this. 

Nothing about the situation was good. 

Had Keith told his parents? Did this mean the Galra knew as well? Was everything he had worked for compromised? 

He had previously thought the world had been falling down around him, but now he realized his world hadn’t started collapsing until now. 

“Lance, I know you heard me. We don’t have time for you to do that stupid denial thing you always do- as if it has ever worked. Turn it to wood and I’ll burn it down. There’s no cameras here, just do it.” Now Keith was impatient, having regained his nerves. But his eyes were apologetic, as if he knew what he had just dropped on the Cuban. Lance searched his face, looking for answers that weren’t there.

When Lance made no move to… well move, Keith grabbed his arm and brought it up to the door, placing his palm against the cold, smooth metal. Strangely soft fingers manually spread out the tanned, barely clenched one’s which had been rendered immobile from shock. 

Lance simply stared at his hand on the door, not registering reality and still not speaking. 

“Lance.” Surprisingly, the Galran’s voice was unusually quiet, understanding and patient in ways Lance would have never thought possible. The Cuban had never heard Keith speak this way before, with this tone. 

“Lance, trust me.” 

Trust him? How could he trust him?

Keith was evil. Lance knew it, was sure of it. Had been certain of this detail ever since he’s known him, ever since Allura first explained who he was. 

And yet. 

Eyes burned into his skin, begging to absorb him in their depths and like a fly attracted to the light that will kill it, Lance found himself turning his head. Keith was staring straight at him, almost straight through him, leaving him feeling raw, vulnerable, exposed, as if every single secret he had was on display. Deep blue eyes of the swirling ocean finally met the intense indigo ones filled with unknown galaxies that threatened to consume him. 

Unable to handle it anymore, Lance closed his eyes thus accepting his fate and conceding defeat. With his eyes still screwed shut, he released the magic that he had been struggling to control his entire life, letting it interact with the steel beneath his fingers.

And the door turned to wood. 

But Lance kept his eyes closed, terrified of what would come next. It couldn’t help but cross his mind that this was all simply a ploy to force him to use his powers and incriminate himself. 

But no sneering laugh came, no mockery. 

Instead, the smaller hand returned to lift his gloved one off the door, letting it fall limply to his side, before bracing itself lightly on the newly wooden door. 

Fire spread from Keith’s hand in a beautiful display of red and orange, overtaking the target until only ashes remained. There was a hint of bright blue lining his fingertips, signifying the raw energy of the power being used.

Lance was still quiet. 

The familiar spark of magic surrounded them as Keith blew the ashes away with telekinesis. 

The door was gone and the evidence was as well. 

And Lance was still quiet. 

In front of them were two passages, one of which led to the main base where Sendak was sure to assume they would turn. The other led to the castle which didn’t seem so scary to Lance as it had before. The things that had scared him previously were now little more than inconsequential fears of the past.

Keith quickly left trails and clues to mislead Sendak while Lance remained in place, wordlessly distracted.

When he returned, the two stepped through the door and entered the inner sanctum. 

Neither dared to speak a word. 

From there the mission wasn’t very hard. As expected, Sendak hadn’t thought to go the other direction, thinking everything above was fairly useless. Only a few guards were on the top level and they were fairly easy to bypass, Lance being a trained stealth agent and Keith being who knows what. 

It was fortunate that not much was going on because Lance was still extremely distracted. 

His mind was too preoccupied to focus on the steps he took or the obstacles before him as it ran scenario after scenario, all of which ended up with Lance dead. 

So, needless to say, he was fairly worried about this new development. 

Finally they stood in front of the massive double doors of the library, ornamented with extravagant designs and gold embellishments that helped it blend in with the rest of the house. Annoyingly, the strangely dramatic castle Lance found himself in was decorated solely for the purpose of decorating it. It was as if it was fancy out of obligation. 

Lance really hated these assholes. 

But the question was never if he hated them, it was if said assholes had been informed of his… condition. 

Knowing his way around the house, Keith opened the door but Lance was too dazed to see how. He remained silent as the doors swung open to reveal a library straight out of Beauty and the Beast . Different colored books of varying sizes lined high shelves, all collecting dust from their lack of use. 

In the center of the room was a small glass case, illuminated by a soft white light emanating from the bottom of the display. 

Both Lance and Keith stood silently staring at the object in front of them. 

Hanging from the top of the case was a chain necklace on the end of which hung a thin band. 

To be honest, it was a little disappointing. 

The famed chaotic bayard which Lance was risking his life and identity for was nothing more than a stupid fucking ring. It didn’t glow, it didn’t scream power. It did nothing. 

“That’s it?” Lance blurted out, surprising Keith who hadn’t expected him to speak. However, once this surprise passed, the teenager crossed his arms in clear annoyance. 

“What do you mean ‘is that it’?”

“I mean I expected something more, weapony…” The word was barely out of his mouth before Lance began to regret it. 

“Weapony. You expected something more weapony. That’s the stupidest thing anyone has ever said. Ever. Besides you do know it changes shape so what it looks like now means literally nothing.”

“Whatever, whatever. Let’s just get the thing and leave.” 

Neither wished to bring up their current situation or acknowledge that while both wanted the ring, only one could have it. 

Together they approached the case and Lance bent down to peer into it. Looking closer, the ring was not just a simple gold band but it had a thin line in the middle. 

“So how do we crack this bad boy open?”

Keith’s lips curled in minor disgust at his word choice. “It’s simple-“

“Oh, of course it’s simple. I forgot I'm here with the expert Keith Galra who impressively has received straight Fs for the entirety of his school career.” Mock flattery and exaggeration dripped from his words. 

A scowl crossed Keith’s pretty (what no) features, but he waited for Lance to continue. 

“Also. What kind of fucking name is that? Why the fuck were you named like this? Holy shit do you even know how stupid it sounds?”

He would have continued to ramble if Keith hadn’t cut in. “Hey genius, I have the fucking key.”

That made Lance pause, hands stopped in mid air. 

“Huh.”

“Yeah ‘huh’. Also, why the fuck do you care about my fucking name?” He smirked. “Planning on taking it in the future?”

“Wh-what? No!” he emphatically declared, but it came off flustered rather than disgusted as he had intended. Without his permission, his cheeks grew warm. “Whatever, asshole. Put the fucking key in.” 

The Galran raised his hands in mock surrender before releasing the glass encasing the Bayard. Then, taking Lance by surprise, he took out his sword and slashed the glass until it shattered on the floor. Little shards flew through the air and bounced off his armor one by one. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Look, we don’t want them knowing we have a key and now that alarms are disabled they can’t tell we broke the glass,” Keith explained. 

Lance had to admit, it was pretty smart, but he was becoming more and more mystified by the second. Who was Keith?

For the first few weeks of knowing Keith, Lance had operated on the assumption that the boy was simply not trying hard in school because of his heritage. Why would he need to? 

Everyone in the school assured Lance that no, Keith really was just dumb and while the Cuban had kept his mouth shut he had always heavily doubted this supposed fact. 

It wasn’t until a little bit later that he had started to believe the Galran son was truly the dullest tool in the shed. 

The first sign was when he heard Keith asking Shiro who Christopher Columbus was. He remembers the moment vividly. He had been walking down the hall with Hunk and chatting about the heavy load of homework they had (Lance was quietly bragging that he didn’t have to do any of it cause it was his job to be bad at school and Hunk was quietly reminding him that he couldn’t fail- a fact that, while true, was readily dismissed). 

He had heard the Mullet’s voice behind him in the hall as his rival stood next to a tall, broad-shouldered man, talking amiably and wearing a smile reserved only for his companion. Shiro. 

Putting it simply, Shiro was a god. He had a body like Adonis and was extraordinarily kind. Every teacher heralded him as an amazing student, every student wanted to be him and because of this impossibility settled for wanting to be his friend. 

Keith and Shiro were an odd pair. They were fairly inseparable when in public, despite differences in courses, popularity and age (though Shiro was only two years older). 

While Shiro was well known and well liked, Keith was generally regarded with disdain for varying reasons. Some judged him for his “rampant stupidity”, others for his heritage. Some people disliked him simply because he didn’t seem to give a single shit that people looked down on him while others hated that no matter how terrible he was, he was widely regarded as one of the best looking people in the school. 

Lance never understood Shiro and Keith’s friendship, why he and subsequently his boyfriend Adam would ever wish to befriend the broody teenager who seemingly stood for everything they hated. 

To some degree, it looked like they could be related, but Lance was very attuned to their marked differences. Where Shiro was bulky and seemingly made of muscle, with the body of a dorito, Keith was lean. But despite constantly wearing oversized shirts and ripped jeans, everyone could tell his muscles were clearly defined. 

Within the Garrison there were only a few people who received widespread attention for their looks. Allura, Shiro and Keith were known as untouchables, Shiro because he was dating, Allura because she was essentially a princess and Keith because, well, it was Keith. Then there were those whose looks equaled the untouchables but were more likely to date around. This group included Lance and James. 

Despite what it might seem from his generally unsuccessful flirting, Lance had a fair number of exes, both guys and girls alike, from Plaxum to Kinkade. Unfortunately, despite his halfhearted attempts with Allura, Lance had never dated an untouchable. James on the other hand had managed to reach what others couldn’t, him and Keith having been a couple that while extremely hot together had been generally terrifying for the student population. 

Where Shiro was strong and solid, Keith was all sharp angles. The older of the two had kind, wise eyes but Lance never found himself entranced by them the way he was drawn in by Keith’s dark violet eyes which were endlessly intense and almost relentless.

Lance had gushed to many people about Shiro from Pidge to Hunk, but he had never admitted to any of them that he thought Keith was hotter. He didn’t know how to explain it other than “Shiro just wasn’t his type?” which is like who is he kidding. The fact of the matter was that Keith defined his type and had overtime become his point of reference. It was a little concerning that when he looked at people he tended to compare them to Keith. But this didn’t mean anything… right?

Anyway he was getting off topic, thoughts wandering too far. 

Shiro had been telling Keith about the age of exploration (why he'll never know) when he had mentioned the name. That’s when Keith had dropped the bomb and asked the question that made Lance reconsider everything. 

Who was Christopher Columbus? You’ve got to be kidding me . 

At first, Lance considered the possibility that this had been a fluke. 

Then had come the classic, “Did George Washington and Abraham Lincoln ever meet?” This had been met with raucous laughter which had led Lance to believe that Keith had been joking, but when he saw his face, lost and confused, Lance knew he was serious. 

Soon after that, he quickly realized that Keith was so dumb it almost seemed like he was actively trying to be stupid. 

From there he had been treated to many “shit Keith’s stupid” moments all of which had served to convince Lance that everything people said was true. 

Despite this affirmation, the Cuban found himself recently challenging this notion. 

A thought struck him suddenly making his body go rigid. 

Keith had only asked him to change matter not manipulate quintessence. What if he didn’t know Lance was the Chaos? What if he only thought he was a Blade member who was hiding a single faction power. Hope sparked once again in Lance’s heart, hope that while Lance was most definitely screwed it was not to the same capacity as he had assumed. 

He prayed to every deity possible that this was true. 

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts by a gloved hand hand shooting out and grabbing the chain before Lance could do anything about it. 

“Hey!” he protested. 

“As if I’m trusting you with this.”

“Excuse me?” came the offended words. 

“Look I’ll give it to you later. Let’s just go please.”

Then he turned and took off down the hall. 

“Hey, wait! How am I supposed to trust that?”

No response. 

“Don’t ignore me, dickweed!”

More silence. 

He grabbed a pen off the table and threw it at Keith’s head. 

The latter paused. “What. The. Fuck. Did you just throw a fucking pen at my fucking head?” He was incredulous. 

“Yes, I did.” And he was proud of it too. 

“You’re a two year old. Why are you a two year old?” 

“Oh so now you wanna talk. Me, a lowly boy, has gotten your attention.” He crossed his arms, closed his eyes and tilted his chin to the sky. 

He was knocked out of his role abruptly when a pen hit him in the face. 

Lance squawked. “Dude! The hell?”

“Is someone speaking to me?” Keith asked with a false tone. 

“I know you hear me.”

“Must be the wind.”

“Fine! Two can play at that game!” he harrumphed. 

A few minutes of silence as the two slipped down the halls was all it took to break him. 

“So Keith,” he whispered. 

“Oh my god!” Keith whisper shouted. He hung his head in defeat. “You never shut up!”

“Ha! You spoke to me! You. Lose. Lance 1, Keith 0.”

He shriveled a bit in fear at the glare Keith gave him. 

“Put your mask on and shut up,” came the order.

The bandana was once again pulled up to cover the bottom half of Keith’s face, the ring hanging from his neck and hidden under his shirt. He nimbly wrapped his hands around the sword handles and turned toward the door. 

“You ready?” Keith asked as they reached the halls once again. 

“Always.” And for once, he was completely serious. 

It was unusual that Lance felt so secure when in the midst of enemy territory, but something about standing side by side with Keith put him at ease. Something about Keith’s subtle twirling of the sword made him feel just as secure as the gun he held. 

He indulged himself for a brief moment and admitted that he and Keith looked good side by side. They could be strong together, he realized. Logically, he knew he was blinded by his emotions (although he hadn’t quite figured out why), but he couldn’t shake the thought that Keith had the potential- 

That he had the potential to be good.

“Then let’s go.”

And with that the duo took off.  

Lance breathed a sigh of relief when both he and Keith were out of the base and miles away from the Galran home. 

The two of them had agreed to meet back at the Garrison, Lance taking his car and Keith using who knows what. 

Before they had parted ways, Lance had opened his mouth, prepared to object to them separating while the Galran teenager still held the bayard. But before he could say anything, Keith had softly handed him the ring leaving him speechless. Still in shock, he had silently watched the mysterious boy walk away, clutching the Bayard tightly in his own hand. 

The time alone in the car gave him time to ponder what had happened. 

He still clung to the hope that Keith believed he was only a member of the MOM faction and the more he thought about it the more he hoped. He prayed that if Keith knew about the Chaos he definitely would have told his parents and thus he must not know. He reasoned that it was much easier to tell if someone could manipulate matter than to tell if they controlled quintessence. But there were still many things that just didn’t fit. So many questions unanswered. It was like Lance could only see the first level of something that ran much deeper. 

Nothing would ever be the same, he realized. Yet despite his feelings of dread and fear and danger, Lance felt strangely calm at the same time. He wasn’t panicking, but what he really needed was to talk about it with someone. And that someone was Hunk. 

The phone rang a few times before Hunk picked up. When he did, his voice was groggy and it was clear he had been sleeping. 

“Wh- Lance? It’s 3 am.”

“I know Hunk and I wouldn't have called if this wasn’t urgent but-“

“That’s a lie” Hunk commented under his breath. 

Lance forged on. “ but something really, really big happened and I don’t know what to do or how to feel and Hunk this is really really bad, and by bad I mean really bad not like Justin Bieber “Baby” bad but like “Who Let the Dogs Out” bad. Like Avatar the Last Airbender movie bad. And I wasn’t panicking originally I was actually totally chill as fuck but now that you’re here listening I’m kinda like huh this is bad-“

“Dude you’re rambling and if you say bad one more time…”

“Sorry, Hunk. Man, I’m scared”

Hunk sensed something within the Cuban’s voice and softly questioned “Lance, what happened?”

“Keith. Keith knows and-“ his voice broke. “And I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

There was a moment of silence from Hunk as he struggled to understand Lance’s vague words. But a sharp inhale on the other side of the line signified that he had figured it out. Hunk breathed out a quiet “Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“But how? You’re so careful, you’ve done everything. How could he know?”

“I don’t know, Hunk. That’s the thing! I have no idea how he knows. I was on the mission and everything was going super smoothly and then I heard something down the hall and it was Keith.”

“What? Why was Keith there?” Hunk interrupted, confused. 

“For the same reason I was apparently.”

“That makes no sense why would he-“

“Exactly what I said!”

Hunk was fully awake now, and Lance’s voice was growing more and more dismayed. Recounting the story had further impressed the situation to him. 

“So anyway we were just talking-“

“Like you do. Oh wait you don’t. You were just talking to Keith. The same Keith?”

“Yup. And it was lowkey kind of nice like, you should have seen it. He smiled at my joke, Hunk. You could tell he didn’t mean to but he couldn’t help it-“

“Lance!” He waved his hands in the universal hurry up motion before realizing they were on the phone. 

“But then we heard somebody coming and Keith got all scared. He said it was Sendak-“

“Sendak?”

“Some Galran evil dude. Anyway we started running and the alarms went off.”

“Shit.” 

“I know right! So anyway, we hit a dead end, a door that was shut down. And Keith- Keith just-“ He trailed off and took in a deep breath. 

“Keith just what?” Hunk prodded. His tone was probing yet kind. 

“He told me to turn it into wood.”

“Oh.”

Lance hummed in agreement. 

“So that’s bad.”

Another soft hum. 

“And you’re sure?”

“Well if I wasn’t, I’m definitely sure now that he saw me do it.”

“You did it?” Hunk exclaimed 

“I had to!” Lance defended. And it was true, there had been no other option. “Hunk, what do I do? I don't know what to do. This has never happened before... I worked so hard. I’ve failed all my classes. I don't use magic on missions, I just can’t figure out how he’d know.”

“And Keith only mentioned the matter thing, right? So maybe he doesn’t know about the other thing.”

“That's what I was hoping. But Keith knows a ton, like way too much. He knows Allura’s identity, knows about the Blade. I thought he was dumb!”

“Clearly we misjudged him. Do you think… do you think he might be magically powerful too?” 

“Definitely not. He wasn’t using magic at all, even when he didn’t know I was there. But do you know the weird thing? When we split to go home he gave me the Bayard. Why would he do that? The whole thing was surreal.”

“That doesn’t sound like Keith at all,” Hunk commented, perplexed. “Are you sure it was him?”

“Unless the legendary mythical Shapeshifters are real, then yes.”

They both chuckled mildly before sobering. 

“Do you know if he told the Galra?” Worry laced his words as both of them knew what would happen if he did. Lance would have to run and the chance that he wouldn’t make it was high. Hunk would also be questioned. It would bring attention to everyone around him, all his friends. He felt guilt flush over his body that just by being friends with him these people were in danger. 

“He said he didn’t but I don’t know.”

“Huh.”

There was a brief moment of silence. 

“So you guys are meeting up later in your room,  right? I guess you’ll have to ask him then.”

“Yeah I guess.”

The two talked a little more, but the conversation was tinged with fear.   

Before Lance returned home he passed a gas station and decided to grab some ice cream so he could cry into a pint of chocolate fudge brownie while watching cheesy feel good movies. 

The station was dirty and the slushee machine was broken but it served his purpose. The old man at the counter took a look at the ice cream, chips and gummy worms and smiled knowingly. He had kind eyes and smile wrinkles. 

“Rough day?” he guessed, sympathetically.  

“Yeah,” Lance chuckled. “You don’t even know.”

“Girl?”

“Nah. A dude.”

The man's eyebrows climbed his forehead. 

“Not in that way, though I wouldn’t mind that. It would be much better than the current situation.” 

He laughed lightly while bagging the items and retrieving Lance’s change. 

“I wish you the best of luck,” he said warmly. 

Lance smiled gratefully and turned to leave. The little bell above his head rang as he opened the door. 

He moved to put his change in the plastic bag but while he was looking down he crashed into something distinctly solid. 

He had run into an older man with salt and pepper hair and a large coat. The man seemed to struggle and Lance had a brief flash of panic. 

Oh my god I just took out an old man. 

The stranger’s light brown eyes were wide. “Lance?”

Lance staggered back in surprise, his eyes narrowing quickly. 

The stranger seemed to realize his mistake but the damage had been done. 

“How do you know my name?” He asked, serious and threatening. 

The man paused for a moment before his eyes lit up quickly. 

“I’m a psychic. You’re not the first to be amazed by my powers.” The man nodded and pointed upon this statement as if to say yup I got it, this is good. 

Lance’s eyes only further narrowed but the old man had seemingly latched onto the topic of being a psychic. 

“So many people think our field is… phooey but son it is not.” Despite his confidence and certainly the man spoke extremely awkwardly. Needless to say, Lance remained very suspicious. He opened his mouth to question him further when a great burst of wind suddenly sent his receipt flying, forcing him to briefly chase it. 

But by the time Lance turned around, the mysterious old man had disappeared.  

When Lance finally arrived at their shared room, Keith was already there standing in front, but he wasn’t alone. Shiro was there. 

They were speaking in hushed tones and there was clearly an argument ensuing. Lance remained around the corner, straining his ears to listen. 

“When you didn’t respond I went to your room and you weren’t there and you wouldn’t answer my calls texts or anything. Where were you, Keith?”

So Shiro didn’t know. Huh

“I told you, Shiro. I was doing something for Mother and Father.”

Lance nearly snorted and gave away his position. Mother and Father. As if. 

Shiro scoffed, “Why are you doing anything for them? What have they ever done for you?”

The Cuban’s eyes widened considerably at Shiro’s blatant disrespect for Keith’s parents. He looked toward Keith, afraid of what might happen. 

“This again?”

Again. Apparently, Shiro saw that same potential Lance saw. 

“Yes, this again. It’s your future, your life. They hate you! Why stay loyal?”

“I’ll just have to make them not hate me by staying loyal and working for them.” He said it so matter of factly as if he didn’t even realize what he was saying. As if he didn’t know how big this conversation was. 

“Oh sure that sounds like a great plan, just fantastic. Keith, you’re throwing away your life for people who have never treated you anything but terribly.” Shiro was getting angry now, a very rare sight for the normally collected man. 

Keith stubbornly stuck his chin up before turning to the door and declaring, “we will continue this in the morning, Shiro. Right now, I have something to do.” 

“Keith-“ 

The door closed in his face. Shiro sighed deeply, his head bowed. “Keith what are you doing?” He said to nobody at all while shaking his head. 

Lance decided to make his entrance and approached the door. 

Shiro seemed very surprised to see Lance. “Huh, you’re up late.”

“Well you know what it’s like being such a stud,” Lance confidently replied, shooting him finger guns. 

The elder of the two merely laughed lightly and stepped out of his way. 

“Well stud, I hope you have better luck with Keith than I do.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Lance breathed before reaching for the door handle. 

Shiro disappeared down the hall. 

Upon entering, the sight that greeted Lance was Keith, head in his hands and sitting with his legs crossed on their shared couch. 

Lance stepped inside, locked the door and walked toward their small kitchen. He started casually preparing hot chocolate. No one had spoken yet. There was an awkward silence while he worked and within a minute he had a warm cup and found himself handing it to a surprised Keith. 

“Thanks,” he said shyly. Lance could admit it was a little, just a little cute. 

The teenager settled down, his own cocoa in hand, legs folding into criss cross position, mirroring Keith who remained directly across from him on the couch. Lance waited expectantly. 

“So I suppose you wanna know how I know”, Keith began. He held the mug between two hands as if using it for warmth and blew softly onto it. 

Lance nodded. “Duh.” He also wanted to know what he knew, but hopefully he’d figure that out. 

“Well I never actually saw you use your powers or overheard you talking about it. It was more of the little things. The things that you did when you thought nobody else was looking.”

Keith must have seen something on Lance’s face because he backtracked to reassure the other. “It’s not obvious, in fact I’m sure no one else has noticed. You do a very good job with the whole ‘I’m stupid and everyone knows it’ and I don’t know if I’m just more attuned to these things but something about that rubbed me the wrong way. Your grades screamed stupid, your words screamed stupid but your eyes were different.”

His eyes? That’s what gave him away? His eyes? Well that just sucks. 

“I’m not spewing that bullshit about the eyes being the windows to the soul cause that can kiss my ass, but when you walk into a room, you pause and scan everyone quickly before dramatically declaring your entrance.”

Despite the serious situation, Lance snickered. More eye rolling followed. 

“So I started to get suspicious, watching closer and the more I watched the more I could tell that you were hiding your intelligence. Your hours in the room were odd, you would disappear for days in class. Naturally I assumed you were a Paladin, but I soon realized this wasn’t the case.”

Lance refrained from asking how the fuck he made this deduction. 

“So therefore you had to be from the Blade and sure enough I saw you sneaking out of our room in the uniform. But something still felt off. Like I still couldn’t see the big picture.”

“Naturally,” Lance drawled. 

“The day I figured everything out was the day we trained together, when you and Pidge were talking. At first, I thought it was normal, but then they mentioned your records.”

“Imma kill them.” Lance muttered under his breath. 

“They mentioned a sudden drop in your grades. One that came out of nowhere, and everything just came together and I knew the answer to everything I had been asking and everything they were asking.”

Every word was a slap to the face. Every word tore down everything he had worked so hard to build, to maintain. 

“Why did you exaggerate weakness? Because you had to avoid suspicion. Why did your grades suddenly drop? Because that’s when your powers developed.”

There was a sharp intake from the Cuban. 

“Because that’s when you found out you were the Chaos.”

And that? That was the nail in Lance’s coffin. 

There was no more what if he only knew this or what if he was just dreaming. 

He felt like crying. 

Instead he just drained his hot cocoa. “So what now, Keith? My life is in your hands.”

The teenager in question made a face, “what are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, baffled and incredulous. 

“I mean what am I gonna do?”

“Tell your parents?”

There was silence as Keith looked away and wouldn’t meet Lance’s eyes. 

“I won’t do that,” came a gentle promise. How could Keith make a promise like that? Why would he?

“Why help me Keith? Why hide my identity?” Lance questioned, still lost and still scared and still desperately searching Keith’s face for answers. 

The other paused for a moment before answering. 

“Life’s a series of unexpected turns and twists that you can’t escape and that you never see coming. In essence, the world is filled with chaos . And people hate it. They want control, want to see what’s heading towards them in the dark hallway. But me? I kinda like it that way. I kinda like life’s unpredictability. I kinda like that it’s a little chaotic. Because then I can live knowing that if I make a mistake it’s ok. If I miss an opportunity then maybe it’s just ‘cause I wasn’t meant to go through that door. Why did I help you? The answer is simple.” 

Keith stopped fidgeting and violet eyes turned to meet blue ones before he casually shrugged as if he wasn’t shattering Lance’s entire world. 

“I believe in the Chaos and I don’t want to see it leave this world quite yet . ”

And with that unclear, long-winded, confusing speech, Lance felt that he could conquer the world. 

And with that terrible, simple, final phrase, he realized that he wanted to do it standing next to Keith. 

“I don't know where to go from here,” Lance admitted. 

“We can look at the Bayard?” Keith offered. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that.”

He pulled out the chain from under his shirt and held it between the two of them. 

The boy across from him was in awe of the item before him, clearly resisting the urge to touch it. “Put it on,” he urged. They both watched in anticipation as Lance placed it on his finger. 

Nothing happened. 

After a minute of waiting, Lance grew frustrated. “All that for nothing? You have got to be kidding me!”

Keith didn’t seem surprised, simply humming as he examined the ring, turning it over between his agile fingers. 

“Yo samurai, why isn’t it working?”

A shrug. “I don’t know, these things tend to be complicated, they involve ancient magic and the very fabric of the universe.” 

Real helpful Keith. 

For the next 45 minutes the two did everything in their power to attempt to activate and unlock the Bayard. 

Keith tried lighting it on fire, but only burned their table. 

They tried making some marshmallows with the fire on their table, but this had seemingly no effect either. 

Lance used all his magic on it, but nothing happened. 

He tried throwing it at the wall but this was admittedly not a true attempt. 

Needless to say they came up with nothing.

“Dude, I think we gotta give up,” Lance conceded. “We both have tests to fail tomorrow.” 

He was surprisingly very disappointed to end their 4 am session and had nearly forgot his impending doom. 

He had a hunch that Keith did too if the little pout his words triggered meant anything. 

“Lance,” Keith ventured. “Can I have the Bayard? I don’t want to do anything with it but…” He trailed off. 

Lance took a moment to consider it. 

“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” he finally decided and dropped the chain into Keith’s open palm. 

“Night, Keith.”

“Night,” the other distractedly replied, already entranced by the ring. 

Some part of his brain wondered if this was a good idea, but he was too tired to care. 

Lance shook his head in both wonder and bewilderment. He was exhausted and confused and scared but not defeated. That’s the most he could have asked for. 

He closed his door and crashed onto the bed immediately. Within the minute he was out like a light. 

In the living room, however, unbeknownst to Lance, Keith had placed the ring on his own finger. 

The band in the middle of the ring began glowing, small strands of red light seeping out and twisting around his hand and climbing his arm. 

Within a minute, the ring was no more and in his hand was a thin, one handed sword similar to his black ones. However, this one was sharper, crafted flawlessly and the handle seamlessly fit his hand. 

Keith grinned. 

“Wicked.”

Chapter Text

After what was eventually dubbed “the bonding moment”, both Keith and Lance could be found in their shared room far more often. This one moment had seemingly brought their relationship from enemies to the unique dynamic of “we’re tentative friends because you know my darkest secret and if you tell anyone I'll die”. 

Recently, however, Keith had been in denial about their newfound friendship, something that only made Lance more determined to befriend the “unfriendable”. He had even used this phrase to describe his efforts, but shockingly it hadn’t swayed the broody teenager. 

Lance had been left reeling from the recent events, emotions threatening to burst forth constantly. 

Try as he might, Lance just couldn’t wrap his head around the events and conversation that night at the Galran base. His inability to comprehend what the fuck happened left him wondering which way his life would turn next. 

His confusion regarding Keith had reached an all time high and he found himself questioning Keith’s identity, personality, morals and even his own feelings about the violet eyed boy. 

But there were still many issues that persisted despite their budding friendship. Keith was resolute in his loyalty to his family, and Lance was certain the Galran was working under his family’s influence. Even if he was in the apartment more often, the teenager would disappear for days without any word and when Lance would try to get Keith to explain where he was, tight lipped silence was his only response. 

This and the supreme disappointment of being unable to use the Bayard were out to ruin his mood, but Lance had found initiative to usher in a new era of his life. 

His plan for establishing a new age relied on a few simple objectives: to figure out the full extent of his powers and to eliminate the future successor of the Galran throne. Although the latter had been a previous goal of his, Lance had decided to take a new approach this time: the power of friendship (which is decidedly not synonymous with the power of gay love thank you very much Pidge). 

These two quests each had smaller steps that Lance had concluded were essential for their fulfillment. 

In terms of saving Keith from the hands of evil (aka the hands of his parents), it had been concluded that following the teenager around in daily life was absolutely necessary. 

When Lance had said that Shiro and Keith were an odd pair, he hadn’t quite expected the recent development, because to say that seeing the two of them walking around the halls was surprising would be an understatement. It had thrown off the entire balance of the school, who had been well accustomed to their yelling and Keith’s lack of any friends beyond Shiro and Adam. 

Over the next few weeks, the duo became a very common sight in public, but nobody quite understood the nature of the relationship or knew if they were even friends. 

Some people assumed Lance just wanted in Keith’s pants, which the Cuban heavily resented. They had even had a few people come to congratulate the two of them. Each congratulation was met with an exclamation of disgust with an added “but you are right we would looking fucking fantastic together.” This often resulted in a shove. 

Most just thought it was Lance being Lance and that this was his next method of annoyance. This was the general consensus mostly because of Keith’s refusal to acknowledge him. 

When seen together, Lance was often found to be talking animatedly and trailing after the other who preferred to pointedly ignore his newfound companion in favor of his usual angsty eye rolling. Despite this, Keith’s occasional dry comment told Lance that despite his pretenses, the boy was always listening. In fact, that was part of the issue. 

Keith was scarily aware of everything around him, something Lance continuously cursed himself for not noticing before. Part of what made it so terrifying was he hid it incredibly well. 

From what Lance had observed the Galran’s movements weren’t calculated, he wasn’t analyzing every situation in his head and he was almost always moving. But he was silent and subtle. Reckless but threatening because even if every move wasn’t planned ahead, Lance got the impression that it’s because he didn’t need to. 

In general, the Galran’s secretive nature, suspicious behavior and overall terrifying hidden abilities were all ingredients in one big stew that smelled of trouble and darkness. 

As usual, boredom had overcome Lance in one of his few general ed classes. These were particularly boring because they were designed for all courses so they were not only unreliable but extremely generalized too. When the bell rang, signalling the end of the day, Lance was relieved. 

Now he had the rest of the day to relax, hang out with friends and wander around the school’s massive campus. 

Upon walking out of the class, Lance caught sight of the jet black hair he was far too familiar with. Quickly he scanned the slightly shorter boy (“it’s only an inch Lance”), taking in his outfit. Unsurprisingly, he walked in his ratty old converses, legs clad in his normal black ripped jeans and simple black shirt that clung to his frame in a way that Lance decided was the perfect mixture of cute and hot. 

“Sup Samurai,” Lance greeted as he fell into step next to him. 

An eyebrow was raised in response, an action that the Cuban had become very familiar with. 

Then he turned and continued to walk down the hall. Annoyed at being ignored, Lance followed, determined to get his attention. 

“What are you doing here, Lance?” Keith finally asked. His tone wasn’t hostile but it was flat and bored. 

“I’m just here to hang out with my best friend ever!” A wink had the other sighing with wry but concealed amusement as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Sure.”

Lance gasped loudly, in shock. “Young man, I do not appreciate your tone,” he scolded, channeling the spirit of his mother which sent a pang of slight homesickness through his body. Maybe it was time to see Veronica again, but she was just so busy with her extensive coursework. 

An annoyed glare. “I’m older than you.” 

“And shorter too!”

Keith let a soft growl escape his mouth, accompanied by his normal scowl, but the growl didn’t quite achieve anything besides sparking a small feeling of endearment within Lance.

“Hello Keith,” came a deeper, third party voice, “Lance.”

Keith nodded in acknowledgement. “Oh hey Shiro.”

“So he gets a “hello” and all I get is rude eyebrow activity?” Words dripping with exaggerated offense accompanied the placement of his hands emphatically on his hips. 

Keith continued to ignore him, but Shiro was amused, his mouth lifting up into a warm smile. The older man thought Lance and Keith’s friendship was great for the latter of the two and approved of the more energetic and extroverted teenager as his companion. He hoped that Keith would finally see reason about the Galran empire and his terrible parents. 

“Lance, Keith,” greeted yet another voice. A darker skinned Adam fell into step on the other side of Lance.

“Hey Adam! Look Samurai, you have a posse.” He waved his hands in gesture to the line that bracketed Keith. 

“Samurai?” Shiro smirked knowingly and Lance felt his embarrassment coming to greet him with warm cheeks. “Keith you didn’t tell me you and Lance started dating.”

If possible, Keith’s expression grew darker. He all but growled, “we didn’t.” 

“You even have cute nicknames for each other,” Adam cooed. His voice shifted to playfully stern, “Now, Lance you know we have to give you the speech. Little Keef over here can’t take care of himself, so we have to let you know that-“

“Shut the fuck up, Adam!” The threatening nature of the words were undermined by the light dusting of pink that painted his light skin. 

“Awww Keith is blushing,” Shiro affectionately teased. He stumbled sideways as Keith shoulder checked the older man, nearly hitting a couple of girls and taking a minute to apologize excessively. When he finally bounced back, he playfully ruffled Keith’s hair, the force causing him to bend over slightly, as the younger glared upward at him.

Lance was, for lack of a better word, charmed . While he had previously assumed that Shiro and Keith had a tense friendship with no actual foundation of love or affection, becoming friends with Keith had brought first hand experience of their dynamic. 

The three of them were like a family, affectionate and teasing. The older couple treated Keith like a younger brother, unafraid of his glares or threats, while Keith basked in the familiarity that came from the aforementioned affectionate teasing. 

Looking upon the two heckling his new friend, Lance finally, finally understood. From this angle it wasn’t hard to see why Shiro and Adam hung around the broody teenager, despite what he seemingly propagated. Something about knowing Keith, talking to him, being one of the people who walked beside him, made you feel different. Keith held Lance’s life in his hands but all Lance wanted to do was to protect him. 

The group of four, Shiro next to Keith next to Lance next to Adam, continued to stroll down the halls ruffling Keith’s feathers in any way they could. Some people in passing noted the unusual addition but most had become too used to seeing the tanned boy walking alongside the paler one. 

Speaking of the pale boy, Keith had adorably scrunched up his nose while electing to ignore their taunts, sparking that same strange feeling Lance was too afraid to actively address. 

“So are we going to the coffee shop?” Adam asked. Shiro and Keith didn’t even have to look at one another before nodding in agreement but Lance paused hesitantly, questioning if he was invited or not. When the Cuban did not continue to walk next to them, Keith, who had noticed the loss of the final member, turned and quirked an eyebrow. “You coming?” 

Seeing this as an explicit sign that he was invited, Lance grinned happily and took a couple of light steps to catch up to him and stand by his side. “Of course, Samurai.” He joyfully slung an arm around his shoulders and felt Keith stiffen then relax with a sigh of exasperation.

He looked up (yes Keith, you're shorter so you look up) at Lance with those pretty eyes that sparkled with hidden amusement. “You’re only encouraging them.”

“I know,” the Cuban sung quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance saw Adam and Shiro exchange meaningful glances. Shiro caught his eye and winked, causing Lance’s cheeks to burn. The Galran son was thankfully oblivious to the small interaction too absorbed in his mini rant about… Mothman? They would have to return to that when Lance’s head wasn’t muddled with dopamine and illogically fierce fondness. 

The coffee shop, Vrepit Sal’s, was a popular hangout, always filled with students either studying or just relaxing after a long day. Pidge, Lance and Hunk rarely hung out there because finding a table was so difficult but they loved to take their food and drink to go. Pidge thought the black coffee was perfect for their daily caffeine minimum, Hunk adored their sandwiches and Lance loved to try every flavor coffee on the menu. 

One of the major sources of fuel for his “I hate Keith” fire was that he always managed to get a table. Lance had always wondered exactly how they got their table and he was waiting in tense anticipation for the secret to be revealed. 

The little chime above the door jingled as it opened to the well lit store that was filled with young voices. Booths lined the walls, all with clean, light wood tables and soft cushions while tables were interspersed in the middle, some higher with stools, some simple with wooden chairs, and some even on the floor with cushions and people sitting with their legs folded underneath. 

At one of the higher tables the group known as the MFE’s sat, Ryan, Nadia and Ina all laughing animatedly while James looked both damp and annoyed, his cup lying sideways, rolling off the table. Next to them in chairs were the edgier group which consisted of Ezor, Zethrid, and Acza, who had nodded at Keith when they entered. Ezor and Zethrid sat entangled in one another as all three clamored irately. 

Lance was surprised to see his sister Veronica at a table with some older students that he himself didn’t know, but had seen around. His older sister’s eyebrows had nearly jumped off her forehead when she had seen the group walk in. Her eyes had jumped from Lance to Keith then Adam and Shiro, finally returning to rest on the Galran who had inspired the most shock. Lance had mouthed I’ll explain later but she hadn’t seemed appeased. 

The rest of the tables were all filled with students unfamiliar to him, only spotting a few familiar faces like Plaxum who smiled brightly at him before returning to conversation, Coran who waved animatedly before continuing to bore the barista and Shay who was probably texting Hunk while in line. 

In a distracted moment, Keith slipped away as Lance, Shiro and Adam discussed what they were going to order. 

When they realized a member of their party was gone, Adam and Shiro looked at one another before simultaneously saying, “shit.”

They found Keith wandering around the tables, looking angry for some odd reason. Lance was very perplexed considering nothing had happened that would make the boy angry but the older duo looked extremely exasperated. He finally stalled in front of a booth whose occupants were blocked from sight. 

In the midst of his intimidation, Keith was pulled backwards by Shiro’s strong hand, earning him a fierce scowl that had no effect. 

“I’m so sorry, sir!” rang a small, unknown voice from the booth they had pulled Keith from. “We were just finishing up!”

They were clearly not “just finishing up.”

Keith fixed them with an intimidating glare and opened his mouth, but before he could get in a word Shiro had placed a large hand on his face and used it to push him behind them. 

“Don’t worry,” said Shiro to the trembling kids. “You can stay and we’ll find somewhere else.”

Keith grumpily crossed his arms in the background. Even partially blocked from view he managed to stare at them, thus furthering their fear despite Shiro’s best efforts. 

“It’s no problem at all sir. Really! We wanted to leave actually!” called another young student. 

Shiro continued to attempt to convince them to stay and eat, but they continued to insist that they were done so soon enough there was an empty table in front of them. 

Adam, on the other hand, was attempting to convince others to take the table, but no one would, the students nearly bowing their way away from the group. Personally, Lance found it absolutely hilarious and apparently Keith did too because the moment Shiro and Adam sat down into the booth, he began to laugh in earnest. 

“Every time,” the previously threatening Galran managed between laughs, obviously finding the situation immensely funny. 

Lance couldn’t help but start to laugh as well. Keith had stared himself a table. That was his entire strategy. The entire time Lance had been thinking of intricate plots or tactics the Galran was possibly employing, he had been simply looking at young students. 

The disapproving figures that sat opposite from them both reached across the table to slap the back of their heads in admonishment. 

“Really Keith, Really? You need a new hobby other than terrorizing the students!” Shiro exclaimed. 

“I’m sorry it’s just so funny! Besides I have a reputation to maintain.” Keith's defense was poor and only served to further the cramp in his side he had from laughing too hard. 

After Shiro finished explaining to him that no, it was not ok to scare students simply because it was entertaining, a simple “nose goes” resulted in Lance being elected to go get their food. 

Adam ordered a ham sandwich and simple iced coffee which Lance could respect. It had always been his father’s favorite menu item at cafes. 

“I want a latte and spinach wrap,” Shiro instructed, causing Keith to yet again scrunch up his nose, this time in disgust. 

Lance made a face and promptly asked “are you a 50 year old woman?”

Keith snickered, pointing in agreement, Adam chuckled in wry amusement and Shiro pouted good naturedly. 

“And you my good sir?” Lance turned to Keith in true chivalry. 

“I’ll take a hot chocolate and hash browns.”

At seeing the taller teenager’s growing smile, Keith grew defensive. “What?” 

“Nothing except that's only the cutest thing ever?” 

“No it’s not!” 

“It so is!” Lance laughed, thinking Keith was only getting cuter by the minute as he pouted.

“Just go get it,” he replied grumpily. Shiro poked him while cooing as Lance walked to the counter. 

“Wait!” Keith called him back. 

Shyly he reached into his pocket and brought out a meal card that read “Lance McClain.”

Lance stared at it, trying to comprehend what was being offered while Keith grew more and more embarrassed. Shiro and Adam smiled knowingly at the shocked boy. 

He quickly looked up at Keith who was averting his eyes. 

“Seriously?” 

The embarrassed teenager nodded rapidly, still refusing to meet his eyes. 

After another moment of silence he raised his head and shrugged, “Everyone in the posse should have one.”

Still in shock, Lance dazedly walked away holding his new card. 

Vrepit Sal’s offered meal cards to certain students with unlimited food on it. These cards were extremely rare and only given by Sal, the owner of the shop. There was only one person Lance knew had received one, Keith. Lance knew that Sal had given the Galran son a few, and thus Adam and Shiro were in possession of one each. 

The card was not only a symbol that Lance had officially become a friend (in only two weeks take that) but it meant so much more. Lance’s family was not poor, but they did not have a ton of money after the big move, especially with so many children. The card meant Lance could save his family a ton and treat himself more often. Additionally, it meant that maybe Keith would actually hold his secret. Maybe he could be a confident and even an ally. 

It was seeming more and more likely that Keith was far from the selfish worshipper of his parents that most assumed him to be. 

While in line, Lance was too distracted to notice two people approach him. 

Hunk suddenly popped into his field of vision. “Lance! We were wondering where you were.”

“Yeah we were gonna ask if you wanted to pick up some Sal’s but apparently you were already here. Wait…” Pidge’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“Just eating and getting some coffee,” he said casually, feigning innocence. 

“By yourself?” Hunk’s confusion was evident and not entirely unfounded considering it was rare for the Cuban to wander campus alone. 

“Nope.” He popped the p. 

“Allura?” 

“Nah.”

“Hot date?”

“I wish.”

Pidge hastily interrupted the guessing game. “Are you eating here?” 

“Yuh.”

The two glanced at one another, yet again surprised. “You got a table?” they chimed in union. 

The other teenager nodded smugly. He still refrained from mentioning that it was Keith who had gotten the table. 

“How?”

“I’m here with a new gang and they snagged a booth.” Inexplicable pride sparked within him at his open acknowledgement of being one of this group in particular. 

With a disbelieving tone Pidge inquired, “What gang?”

Before he could respond, Keith appeared in front of him, having pushed through the crowd only to shove Lance half heartedly. “What is taking so long?” he grumbled, oblivious to Pidge and Hunk, who seemed ready to fight after the push which they assumed had malicious intent. 

“Excuse me?” Pidge, ever the upfront one, stepped in. Their posture screamed defiance and only a little while ago Lance would have been standing next to her, feelings of satisfaction coursing through his veins and encouraged by her open disrespect. “I was talking to my friend.”

The Galran froze as he finally realized Hunk and Pidge were there. The poor boy looked like a cat who had just been dunked into water and was now in a state of frazzled shock. 

“Pidge- chill,” Lance instructed, to the great surprise of his two companions who had most certainly been expecting anger and dramatics. “And Keith, I’m coming so calm down.”

A moment of silence took over the group until the shorter boy nodded cautiously before running back to the table, much to the amusement of the Cuban. Lance was sure he heard a “you calm down” muttered under his breath. 

The interaction had not gone unnoticed and had subsequently left Pidge and Hunk speechless, both gaping at him and then Keith’s retreating form and then back at him. 

“I- I don’t understand,” Hunk mumbled. 

Well join the club , Lance thought to himself. He was about to explain everything he could, but the universe gave him no chance because then the stupid, observant little genius caught sight of the card in Lance’s hand. 

Pidge pointed, eyes wide. “What’s that? ” Their small hands darted out to grab it before he could register it. Lance squawked, waving his arms in an attempt to get the card back. 

“Wait...” their eyebrows scrunched up in plan confusion, then flew high in shock, then returned to their first position. “this is a meal card Lance, why do you have a meal card?”

They asked the question but didn’t wait for his response. “Oh my god. Oh my god Keith gave you a meal card . How? Why? When? What?” Each inquiry came in rapid succession, as if their words were firing from a gun and they were holding down the trigger. 

“Does this mean...” Hunk murmured. 

He knew what Hunk was postulating without the end of his sentence. “I think so? I’m not exactly sure but I really, really hope.”

The paladin glanced between Lance and Hunk, trying to read their meaningful gaze. “Am I missing something?”

It had been recently decided by the two of them that Lance would tell Pidge about his secret. Not only were they dangerously close to finding out but hopefully they could help disguise him more. He just prayed that the agent would understand not wanting to tell anyone and that Pidge could figure out why the Bayard was inoperable. 

“I’ll explain later Pidge, I promise,” the Cuban placated. “For now, as you guys know I’ve been spending a lot more time recently with Samurai over there. And they invited me to come eat with them.” Truthfully, Lance’s time with Keith hadn’t come in contact with his other friends so the two had only heard briefly of it and he suspected that they had assumed that Lance had been exaggerating heavily and that the budding friendship was in his mind. 

His two companions turned to stare at one another as if to subliminally ask if the other understand this progression of events. “Seriously? They explicitly invited you? Who? Shiro?”

They took a step forward in line as Lance shook his head. “Nope. Keith invited me. Well kinda we were walking together and Shiro and Adam joined and then they just kind of assumed we were going to the coffee shop.”

“So you weren’t really invited, you just tagged along.”

Lance felt a slight twinge of annoyance at Pidge’s continued disbelief that his new friends actually wanted him there. He knew they didn’t mean it in that way but Lance’s insecurities took the words to mean much more than they were. “ But ” he continued pointedly. “When I stopped because I wasn’t sure, Keith invited me.” His voice picked up happily at the end, a little bounce in his words revealing just how much joy this fact brought him.  

“That’s so cute!” Hunk, his ever supportive friend, gushed. His smile was massive and Lance knew it was part genuine excitement for him and part complete relief, which Lance heavily sympathized with. 

Upon reaching the counter, they paused their conversation to order and Lance paid proudly with his unlimited food card. 

“But that still doesn’t explain that” Pidge questioned further. “Those things are so valuable, if he gave you one… that must mean… Lance! I knew you dug him!” 

While Lance was glad they had finally accepted it, this had not been the conclusion he had hoped they would arrive at. 

For what seemed like the twentieth time that day, embarrassment colored Lance’s cheeks as he sputtered out a defense that was ignored when Pidge hit his arm with a “you sly dog! You got an untouchable. And Keith no less! I’m impressed, Lance. I never, ever, ever thought that you would admit your crush- much less act on it. And Keith reciprocated! Who would have thought?” Pidge was bouncing with excitement now, a grin fixed in place as they were clearly proud of their friend. 

“Shut the fuck up, Pidge you complete and utter spaz!” His arms flailed in the air in an attempt to avoid everyone around hearing them. “We are not dating!”

They stopped bouncing, disappointed and confused. “You aren’t?”

“No!” Hunk amusedly watched Lance attempt to tame his embarrassment. 

Sal called his name and Lance walked defiantly towards the counter, picking up the clear trays. “Look Pidge, later. I promise we’ll talk later but for now please just accept we are friends and nothing more.”

They opened their mouth in protest, but he cut off their response. “Later.” With that, he walked over to the booth and began to pass out the food.

Placing the hot cocoa in front of a scowling Keith, to the amusement of Shiro and Adam, Lance bowed. “My liege.” With his back still bent in the bow, Lance grinned at Keith, grinned with full force and charm.

Finally he sat down in the booth, slinging his arm once again over Keith’s shoulder and pressing his side against the warm, solid body that he so desperately wanted to hold. Satisfaction coursed through his veins when Keith didn’t pull away. 

“So what we are talking about?”

It was very late when the group finally returned to the dormitories. They had spent a long time at the cafe laughing, teasing and at some points even whining about various menial problems. The time with Keith, Shiro and Adam had been casual and fun, lacking any awkwardness that anyone else would have assumed would be ever present. 

Certain moments had stood out. Shiro and Adam’s story of their relationship and how it began had been extremely amusing, but the most informative moment had been his one on one conversation with Shiro in the bathroom. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Lance” Shiro began warmly, taking Lance by surprise. “Not a lot of people are willing to take steps beyond Keith’s…”

“Aggression?”

“... barriers.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is his deal?” In hindsight, Lance supposed he could have phrased it better but it was too late.

“Keith… is interesting. I have faith in him and I think you do too.” Shiro struggled to explain himself, which Lance could relate to. “I see him, and I get this feeling that he could be more but then every time he has a chance to do better… he doesn’t? And he's hiding something, something big.”

Shiro paused briefly to rub his eyes. 

“There’s this loneliness in him, I can see it in everything he does. Whatever he’s hiding weighs upon him endlessly and it isolates him from everyone else.” The two were silent for a moment. 

“When he was young, when we first met, Keith was an insanely reckless kid. I was only a few years older but I could tell. He had no filter, wasn’t scared of anything.”

The young yet stressed adult chuckled lightly in recollection. “First time we interacted he set fire to my homework. Man was I angry. We became friends right in the middle of his rebellious era. Back then, the worship of the empire we see now was instead a burning hatred for it. His parents had never treated him right, constantly shunning him for only being able to control one element. It hurt me so bad, Lance, seeing a boy who just wanted a home being hated for something he could never control. That’s what put me on my path, what sparked my hatred. But then, something changed. To this day I have no idea what happened. Keith had gone from someone who hated the empire and rebelled against it with all his might to someone endlessly devoted, someone who truly believed in what they stood for.”

Gone were the kind eyes and soft expression. The young adult seemed far too old for his true age, too tired. Shiro seemed overwhelmingly sad. “Everything changed. I stick by him because I think that boy is still in there and Keith will realize the truth someday. I hope you can be what neither I nor anyone else could.” Now he turned to fully face Lance, to stare at him in earnest. 

“Because if that boy is gone, if you can’t bring him back, then -no matter what- we might all be doomed.”

After being essentially dropped off, Keith and Lance took the stairs back to their room. He was too distracted to talk, still thinking about what Shiro had told him. 

“Lance, are you ok?” Keith hesitantly waved his hand in front of Lance’s face as they reached the door. 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine just tired,” he lied. “Thanks for today Samurai, it was a lot of fun.” His admission came out way softer than intended. 

Keith hummed in quiet agreement reaching for his keys. 

They both entered and split off, each heading to their own room. The Galran paused outside the door and turned around. “Hey Lance,” his voice seemed slightly nervous, a rare wobble of uncertainty. “I want to thank you for today too.”

Lance’s face scrunched in confusion. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah but- I just…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out. 

“I think you’re tired, Samurai,” Lance waved lightly. “Good night.”

Keith returning smile was soft and small, the edges of his mouth just barely lifting up. 

“Goodnight sharpshooter.” 

The door closed behind the violet eyed teenager with raven black hair and the Cuban was left staring at where he had been, facing a stark realization. 

Lance had fallen in love and it was a dangerous, consuming love that threatened his entire being. 

Lance had fallen in love with someone who would never love him back. 

Revealing his identity to Pidge was fairly easy. 

They hadn’t doubted, their face hadn’t twisted with confusion. They had only closed their eyes with a small “oh” as if everything had finally made sense. 

After mild questioning about his abilities, what it felt like and his childhood, Lance gave Pidge a small demonstration and the two settled into normal conversation. He regaled them with the story of the break in, meeting Allura, becoming a spy and finally his experiences with Keith. 

Pidge wrung their hands in distress when Lance told them that Keith knew, and his stories of their recent friendship could not placate them. 

And then they became very quiet when Lance looked down sadly and admitted, “I know I’ve been into him for awhile but now… I think I love him Pidge.” 

Pidge breathed out a quiet “shit.”

His heart clenched with sadness and fear. 

“This is what I was afraid of.” Despite their teasing, genuine fear seeped into their tone and dictated their expression. 

“Me too” he all but whispered. “I want to be the reason he’s better, I want him to be good so bad, Pidge. And I’m absolutely hopeless because everything in my body screams that I can- I don’t know- reform him? But-“

At the word “reform” Pidge’s eyes widened as if they had remembered something really important. Standing up quickly, Pidge shuffled toward the closet and began ruffling through items. Finally they pulled out their laptop. 

“Shit has been amping up recently and I don't know how or why. My computer was broken into, Lance. It had retinal and fingerprint identification systems running, and I have no clue how they got past it. None. All I know is that when I came in, my window was open and laptop had been tipped over. Moreover, I can’t figure out what they looked at, or what they were looking for!” Frustration colored the small genius’ words as they fiddled with their glasses, sliding them up and down their nose. “Whoever broke in is a crazy tech wiz… they’ve gotta be. But this leaves us so exposed, I have so much valuable information about the rebellion.”

They paused in resignation, eyes closing solemnly before they reopened and met Lance’s eyes. He was overwhelmed by the worry in them, the intense fear. 

“Lance, I need to show you something. I was snooping around past feeds and records and I found this.”

They opened the lid of the laptop, entering their complicated password and passing the various identification systems that were clearly new, having been only implemented after the break in. After a few quick clicks, they spun the computer around to face Lance and, with a grim determination, hit the spacebar, launching what seemed to be a security camera feed. 

It soon registered to Lance that playing on the video was Keith and James, clearly angry and although their argument was initially unintelligible, soon the audio became clear. Lance’s eyes were glued to the screen. 

Keith in the video snarled with unadulterated anger, shoving James and forcing him to stumble backwards. The MFE only came back to sneer in Keith’s face. “Stop pretending to be something you’re not!”

“Oh you think you know me, do you?” Keith’s lips were twisted into an ugly expression, and his eyes were as sharp as the most dangerous blade, staring at James with a somewhat sinister glint. “You know nothing and you never will.”

James’ tone was just as harsh. “I know nothing? You are blind, blinded by this religion you have for the Galran empire. No matter how close we got, no matter how much I asked you to tell me just what makes you believe in them all I got was some brainwashed bullshit!” His voice grew higher and more angry. “You're parents don’t love you, no matter how many missions you do under all our noses.” He sneered condescendingly.

Keith’s eyes subtly widened before narrowing as he was clearly taken by surprise. James had noticed. “You think I don’t know Keith? Do you think I’m dumb? I know what evil activities you get up to at night, I know why you leave for days on end.” He began to push Keith with every step he took. “I thought I’d be enough.” His voice broke. “I thought I'd be enough to convince you of the corruption of your stupid parents and this stupid empire. I thought I could turn the tide, turn you. But no one can, because at the back of your mind, all you think about is your empire. Well, well Emperor Keith have fun rotting in hell.” The last words were spat with the venom of someone filled with pure hatred, anger and disappointment. 

He turned to leave but only a few steps later, Keith called him back. “Think what you want James, do what you want. You’re arrogant to think you could make me what- go on some redemption arc? Watch your back because if you get in the Galra’s way, our history won’t make me hesitate. You’re right about one thing: I will be emperor and nothing, nothing will get in the way of that. The Galran empire is endless and I am inevitable.” 

Pidge closed the video, turning off the computer with a final image of Keith’s hardened expression. Lance stared silently at the dark screen, his heart breaking, his mind struggling to find some way to justify both James and Keith’s words. 

A small hand was placed on his shoulder in comfort. His voice was weak as he desperately pulled at straws. 

“But he didn’t tell his parents about me? But he-“ His pitch was increasing, breathing getting more intense. 

“Lance, did you ever consider,” they pawed their toes at the ground, “did you ever consider that maybe Keith kept your secret for a different reason? That maybe he wants you as an ally while he’s emperor or maybe for blackmail?”

“He isn’t like that!” He protested, but the words sounded doubtful to his own ears. “Pidge- I spent time with him… he can’t be...” Images of hot cocoa and beautiful eyes and small smiles flashed across his mind. 

“Apparently that’s what James thought too Lance! You’ve always had this weakness for Keith and it will be your doom. Do you think your love will be enough to reform him? Have you considered the possibility that Keith might be worse than his parents? Lance, I know you’re smart so please, please wake up.”

“It can’t be Pidge, it can’t.” His voice broke in his last attempt to hold onto his faith, to deny what he had seen. Pidge, sensing his pain, ran to hug Lance, their shorter frame wrapping around his taller one. 

“Be careful Lance.” They mumbled into his sweatshirt. “You’ve always been a good swimmer but right now you’re treading in dangerous waters. I don’t think Keith is quite what he seems.”

Chapter Text

Having Pidge in his corner and being unworried about them finding out was a major relief to Lance’s poor, poor nerves (which had been through so much recently) but it was a big adjustment for the Cuban who had spent the past years with only Hunk to confide in and now he had both Pidge and Keith- well kinda Keith. Despite the minor freedom from stress, it felt as if the last few months had been far too eventful, too action packed to truly relax and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Keith. 

His waking hours were spent arguing with himself, one side of his brain attempting to justify what he had witnessed (“it’s fake!” “he wants to be the emperor to reform the empire”) and the other acting as the voice of reason, telling him that his faith in Keith was emotionally biased and had no basis in reality (“just because you’re hot for him doesn’t mean he’s automatically like not evil”). The other side sounded suspiciously like Pidge. And yet he couldn’t deny both had curiously strong cases. Sure recent discoveries painted Keith slightly negatively but the Galran did have many points in his favor. He didn’t tell his parents about him or the Blade, he was stealing from them, he was hiding mojo karate powers and he was way hot. The entire ordeal had him questioning whether what was obvious, and therefore perceived as true, was a lie and that the real truth was not quite so simple.

Turn after turn, his mind was yanked back and forth, smacked in the face by new information constantly but, despite this, his heart tugged stronger than them all. Acknowledging his feelings and then immediately being told that the object of his affections was an evil asswipe had somewhat affected his mood, and yet he couldn’t help himself from getting butterflies every time he got Keith to laugh, couldn’t deny his own feelings and couldn’t stay away.

He found himself at the coffee shop once again, this time sitting at a larger yet much shorter table and warming himself up with hot cocoa. Keith’s ears were red from the cold, and it stirred something deep inside him, a warmth that quickly started to hurt the moment he began to think about it.  

“As if! You’re deluded, Keith” Shiro argued hotly, his hand intertwined with Adam’s. “Bigfoot is the original cryptid and therefore he is most definitely the best.”

Keith rolled his eyes, taking the argument so seriously it made Lance desperately fond. “Oh kiss my ass Shiro. Only an old man would argue that Bigfoot is the best, he’s the most basic and mainstream sure but not the original.”

The man gasped, “basic?!” 

Adam sighed deeply, shaking his head with disappointment. “Oh no, now you’ve got him going, Keith.”

“I’m only telling the truth!” the teenager defended, and Lance nodded in support. “See Lance agrees.” 

With a pointed expression, Adam cut in, “Lance would agree with you if you were arguing that the moon was a spaceship.” The older couple nodded in unison, both of them with their eyebrows raised as if to say “ ha we got you .”

“Hey! Not true,” Lance protested. 

Keith rolled his eyes, “No matter how much you attack my soldiers, my point stands, Bigfoot is boring.” Soldiers?

A loud scoff sounded from Shiro, who looked as if Keith had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “And the Loch Ness Monster is so great, huh?” The scorn was so great in his voice you would’ve thought the teenager was claiming something deranged like that season 9 of Friends was the best. 

“Uh, duh,” the two teenagers said at the same time. Keith turned to grin at Lance who found himself helpless in doing anything but returning it. 

“Nessie’s my girl,” the Cuban added on. 

“Biased loser,” Shiro muttered causing Keith to raise a sharp eyebrow and Lance to bark out a laugh. 

“Loser? Real mature, Shiro.” 

“Real Mature Shiro,” Shiro repeated, his voice high and mocking. 

Keith opened his mouth to fire back, but before he had the chance the group was interrupted by someone calling, “Lancey Lance!”

He twisted his body toward the source and saw Pidge and Hunk standing there, the former looking between the Galran and the Cuban for a split second and the latter just waving happily. 

“Pidgey Pidge?” Lance responded, his tone uncertain. He turned back to his own group to introduce his friends. “Um, these are my friends Pidge and Hunk. Pidge, Hunk meet Shiro, Keith and Adam.”

“We’ve met,” Keith blurted quietly but not quietly enough to escape attention. He colored when Hunk and Pidge fixed their stares at him and began picking at the rim of his mug. 

“What do you got there, Keith ? Some black coffee to match your soul?” Pidge’s words were sharp and annoyed, their bias on Lance’s behalf and general dislike for the empire tinting their tone with bitterness and edge. 

Lance wanted to scream at them, tell them to back off, but it was too late. Recognizing the tone, Keith’s eyes hardened. “That’s a pretty cringyass line for someone who clearly considers themselves witty.” Pidge scowled angrily, unused to responses to their rude comments.

Ever the diplomat, Shiro intervened. “Keith, calm down, no one’s gonna judge you for getting hot chocolate.”

Keith’s head whipped around to look at Shiro, his face a picture of betrayal. 

Catching on to his plan, Lance chimed in with a “I already told you: you’re just cute, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I am not cute!” Keith exclaimed, Shiro, Lance and Adam bursting out laughing at his offense. “I’m not!”

Adam nodded comfortingly, his back still shaking with mild laughter. “Yeah we know, you’re a tough hardass.” The group laughed even harder at that and Keith sunk into himself, his face annoyed but no longer cold.

Pidge and Hunk looked at one another in confusion, unaccustomed to the group dynamic that Lance had grown so fond of.

When the laughter subsided, Shiro turned to the two still standing at the head of the table, “would you like to sit down?”

Lance glanced at Keith to see how he would react but the Galran was already distracted, leaning over the table to look at the image on Adam’s phone and excitedly murmur about the tattoo designs they were looking at. 

“Move over Keith,” Shiro instructed and without question, and still engrossed in conversation with Adam, Keith shifted on the floor cushion, squishing further into Lance and opening a spot for Pidge while Hunk sat at the table’s empty head. 

The Galran settled back into position when his conversation with Adam ended just in time for Lanc to ask, “Hey Shiro? You’re friends with Allura, are she and Lotor dating?”

Keith seemed to tense ever so slightly, confusing Lance. “Why do you care?” His tone was slightly harsher and more annoyed than necessary.

“Because they’ve been into each other for forever and as much as I disliked L’Oreal at first, I kinda want to see it happen,” Lance explained. “Plus they’ve been together a lot more often so I was curious. Sue me.”

Shiro stroked his chin in thought as both Lance, Pidge and Hunk leaned in for an answer. “I don’t think so? I mean she hasn’t mentioned it and it kinda seems like she’s still mooning and pining, don’t you think?”

Adam nodded, “Oh yeah the staring is definitely still happening.”

“Allura really does like to stare,” Keith commented, side eyeing Lance and causing him to laugh uncontrollably in memory of their first interaction in the Galran headquarters. The others of the group exchanged perplexed looks. 

Through laughter, Lance puffed his chest and winked. “She used to stare at me too.”

Pidge scoffed loudly, rolling their eyes and calling his bullshit. “As if!” At nearly the same time Keith, punched his shoulder with a “in your dreams.” They looked at each other, surprised that they had agreed on something. 

“Ow!” Lance rubbed his arm in pain. “That hurt, Samurai,” he whined. 

“Sorry sharpshooter , I’m just stating the facts.”

Lance’s heart fluttered at the nickname, getting lost in Keith’s grin and his pretty eyes and sharp words. 

“Are they facts or are you just jealous?” the Cuban teased, poking Keith in his side causing the boy to squirm. 

“I am not jealous, Lance. You’re just-“

Lance cut him off, “It’s ok babe, you know I only have eyes for you.” Once again he pulled Keith into him, his arm around his neck. The Galran didn’t move away, this motion a common one, and Shiro and Adam just snickered as usual, but Pidge and Hunk had most definitely noticed. 

“Oh so that’s why,” Lance heard Pidge murmur. He turned a questioning eyebrow towards them, but was momentarily shocked by the sadness that filled their eyes. 

“Okkkk…” Hunk dragged out the last few syllables and then looked at Lance pointedly, which the Cuban didn’t understand. “Actually, Keith do you know if Axca and Veronica are dating?”

Lance gasped, looking quickly at Hunk in shock and then back at Keith. “What?! Hunk, what are you talking about?”

“I would have told you my suspicions earlier, but you’ve been… busy.” Lance blushed guiltily at Hunk’s piercing gaze. 

Keith glanced between the two old friends for a moment, but finally he answered the question. “Yeah, actually. Axca was too much of a coward to ask so Veronica finally did.”

“She did?!!!” Lance asked loudly and in shock, attracting the attention of other patrons in the shop. Adam leaned over to smack him for being so loud. 

Keith didn’t quite understand why this was of concern to Lance. “What is your glitch?” 

Lance waved his hands around, still freaking out internally. “That’s my sister!”

“Axca?” The Galran’s face scrunched up in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing and head tilted. 

Lance breathed out with emphasis and exasperation. “No, dumbass, Veronica!”

“What, really?” 

When Lance nodded in affirmation, Keith breathed out a small “huh”. 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” Lance squawked, outraged. He huffed in anger as Keith watched bemusedly. Pidge, Adam and Shiro were involved in a separate conversation, all three of them chatting amiably as if they were old friends. 

“You know what, Keith? We are leaving!” Lance declared, his mind made up. 

The group turned to look at Lance as he dragged Keith out of the table and to his feet, the smaller figure flailing his arms. “Why?” 

“To give my sister a piece of my mind !” The Cuban ignored Pidge’s inquiry of “and you need Keith for that?”, dragging the Galran away, the boy surprisingly coming with no struggle. 

Once they were out of the shop, the two fell in step, side by side.

“So your sister huh, I’m meeting the family then?” Keith teased lightly, not looking him in the eye. His hands were shoved in his pockets, the shorter boy shivering. 

Despite the cold, the Cuban felt himself grow warm, looking fondly at his teasing yet shy friend. He loved Keith’s rare small jokes that bordered on flirting (bordered??). The boy seemed so different, so far apart from the one yelling in that video, declaring his loyalty for the empire. Looking at him now, cold and a couple inches shorter in his stupid black jeans whose rips were most definitely not helping his heat issues, Lance couldn’t see him as evil.

“Yup! It’s a big step in our relationship, don’t you think Samurai?”

Keith hummed quietly in agreement. Suddenly he perked up happily, “I have fire!” 

Lance raised an eyebrow, “You have what?”

He was met with a single finger telling him to wait so he watched as Keith pulled off his fingerless gloves, stuffing them into his pockets. Finally he cupped his cold hands together and a small fire formed. “Warmth!” The warmth of fondness once again spread through his body. 

“Lucky,” Lance complained. “My hands are doomed to be cold.” 

Keith shrugged apologetically, considering this. Finally he pulled the gloves out of his pocket and handed them wordlessly to Lance who put them on simply for the sake of wearing them rather than actual warmth. “So what’s Veronica like?” Genuine curiosity infected his words. 

“Well,” Lance began, never one to turn down talking about his family. “She’s the worst, but also the best. As the older sister she got a lot of responsibilities taking care of me and my siblings. I mean we yelled a lot, obviously, but she was the first one I would go to when I needed help.” His tone grew wistful and nostalgic. “She’s the only reason I got through the move from Cuba, we’d eat ice cream on the couch watching stupid rom com’s together and fall asleep just like that.” 

There was a pause as Lance recalled the memories with her, a deep ache hurting his chest. 

“And now?” Keith prodded gently. 

“And now we barely talk, we’re both so busy especially with,” he lowered his voice, “ my missions and she doesn’t even know about me.”

If Keith was surprised about this, he didn’t show it, he just looked at him with sympathy, purple eyes unsure what to do but trying to convey comfort. 

In an attempt to avoid crying in front of the other Lance piped back up. “Well, you know how it is!” 

“Yeah, yeah for sure…” Keith trailed off quietly, his mind wandering, gaze straying from the path as Lance wondered maybe he didn’t know how it is. 

There was silence for a few moments as the two walked, the only sounds were the quiet flickering of Keith’s small fire, the patter of their feet and the soft blow of the wind. 

“Are you excited to see her?” Keith broke the silence. 

“Yes,” he breathed out excitedly. The easy flow of conversation began once again with Lance regaling Keith with stories of his childhood and the other laughing heartily. 

Finally they reached Veronica’s dormitory and Lance brought out the key she had given him just in case. 

Upon discovering she wasn’t in the room, Keith tried to leave but Lance insisted they stay because “Veronica has no roommate and she owes me an explanation!” so finally they settled on the couch. Like a cat, Keith perched on the couch’s arm, his knees folded, while Lance stretched out leisurely. His legs took up the whole of the small couch so Keith’s sock-covered feet rested on Lance’s legs, the casual contact making the butterflies in his stomach freak out unnecessarily. They bickered for around thirty minutes about various subjects from ghosts (“they don’t exist Keith” “you literally have magic”) to marshmallows (“you’re insane Lance, the smaller ones are better”) to Shiro (“The man is a hottie!” “he's so old”). 

Veronica still hadn’t returned so Lance turned on her laptop, Keith sunk down onto the sofa to sit with his legs folded underneath him and Lance swung his legs so they were sitting side by side. He scrolled through Netflix before settling on watching Friends. They made comments about each character together and Lance learned useless tidbits of information about Keith that at that moment seemed like the most important things he had ever learned such as his favorite characters were Chandler and Joey and he hated Janice. It was growing late, but Lance was both determined to see his sister and reluctant to separate from Keith. Conveniently, being roommates meant no one would be waiting up for them or disrupted if they had to sneak back in. 

It had been a long day, so when both Keith and Lance started nodding off, it wasn’t hard for them to fall asleep, entangled in one another. This was part of the reason that when Veronica did return and she stumbled upon her brother essentially cuddling with the next heir of the empire, she may have screamed... loudly. And this may have caused both Lance and Keith to bolt up and Lance may have flung himself over Keith in a split second, instinctual decision that made Keith look up at him, plain confusion written all over his sharp features. 

“Lance?!” Veronica yelled. 

Lance clutched his heart, rolling off of Keith. “Ay dios mío. You scared us.”

“ I scared you? What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Ummm…” For some reason his mind blanked and he couldn’t remember why they had come. 

Keith spoke very quietly to Lance, avoiding Veronica’s piercing gaze. “You wanted to ask…” 

“Oh yeah!” Now Lance stood up, his purpose realized. “I can't believe you and Acxa are dating and you didn’t tell me!” Despite it being mostly dramatics, Lance did feel mildly hurt. 

His sister’s eyes widened in realization and she sighed. “Lance.” 

Keith stood up, and pointed vaguely at the bathroom. “I’m gonna go… hang out in the bathroom so yeah.” Then it was just the two of them. 

“I can explain. I promise, I was gonna call you and tell you about it.” The elder looked extremely apologetic and Lance felt as if he could see the clear divide that had grown between them. 

“But when?” 

She looked guiltily to the side and Lance sat back down on the couch. 

“C’mon V.” 

Veronica grew mildly defensive, still reeling from the sudden intrusion and confrontation. “It’s not like you tell me anything, Lance! I see you in the coffee shop with your sworn enemy and Shiro and Adam- how you managed to swing that group is beyond me- and I never got a call explaining that. And now, now I come home to find the Galran son on my couch!” Like Lance, Veronica was naturally a dramatic, she just hid it better than he did. But when she was angry or overwhelmed her hands told the story along with her fluctuating tone. 

Now it was Lance’s turn to feel guilty, looking sadly to the side. “I just miss you Veronica. I miss the family. I miss talking and laughing together,” he admitted. 

Arms outstretched to the saddened teenager, Veronica’s tone grew soft and affectionate. “Lance, I promise, I’m still here and we can go get some food at Sal’s. On me.” He accepted the hug, wrapping himself around the sister he missed so desperately. 

He smiled softly. “Nah it’d probably be best if I got Sal’s.”

She narrowed her eyes, “and why’s that?”

Lance preened, still living off the high of not having to pay for his food, thus enabling him to purchase other things he couldn’t afford before. “Well ‘cause I’ve got a meal card.” 

Her surprise and Lance’s pride launched the abridged version of his first adventure to the coffee shop and the two eventually found themselves sitting on the couch. He was in the middle of describing the heated debate about whether you should sleep with or without socks when Veronica reached out and put her hand on his knee. Speaking quietly so only he could hear, she asked, “Lance, tell me the truth. How do you feel about Keith?”

Lance paused, his heart quickening. They waited a minute before he sighed. “I love him. And I really really don’t want to.” Recognizing his resigned tone and downturned eyes, Veronica understood that Lance knew how bad his situation was and she felt a sharp spike of anger and sadness for her brother. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to, just watched him in pain, so obviously in love with one of the worst people to fall in love with. Unlucky. 

Suddenly he perked up as if he had forgotten something.“Shit!” Lance exclaimed. “Keith!” He ran to the door, opening it to find Keith sitting on the counter, earbuds in and playing with one of her makeup brushes. 

When he turned his head and saw the two siblings staring at him, he slowly put the brush down and removed the earbuds. 

Lance burst out laughing, Keith awkwardly blushing in embarrassment, and began walking towards the door. The Cuban leaned into him, still laughing while Keith fought to stave off a smile. 

“You are really something else, Samurai,” Lance gasped breathlessly, his previous sadness wiped clean from his face as he stood, leaning down, his face pressed into Keith’s neck. Veronica quietly noted the evident intimacy between the two, as if this was something they did often. The casual contact told her that the connection between the two ran deeper than she ever would have believed and she had a nagging suspicion that they were bonded by something more distinct than plain attraction.

Ever so quietly, Veronica heard Keith reply, his voice soft and fond. “Back at you sharpshooter.”

And from her angle, it really did seem like love. 

~

Lance woke up at around 8 in the morning and was preparing to either go back to sleep or lie in bed when he heard voices. 

Slightly muffled by the door, Lance managed to identify that Keith was on the phone. 

“Today?” Keith asked in great surprise. “Sendak is coming today?”

Lance’s eyebrows shot up as he stopped himself from gasping outright, instead leaning further against the door. There was a brief silence as Keith listened to the voice on the phone, only responding in vague terms. “Fine, fine I’ll stay out of the way...yes, I understand… alright… goodbye.” 

“ Fuck.” Keith cursed loudly, his voice distressed and annoyed all at once, there was a loud shuffling as he rummaged through drawers. Lance was about to come back out but then Keith spoke again. 

“Yes hello? It’s Akira.”

Akira? Lance mouthed to himself. Who was that? 

“Sendak is coming for Allura today.”

The Cuban froze in place. His heart stopped. For Allura?

Once Lance was out of the room, he desperately ran down the halls to Pidge, sliding into turns so quickly he clipped his arms on corners. “Pidge” he yelled, flinging the door open and gasping for breath. “Follow me!” 

They must have heard the urgency in his tone because they came without question, hiding the laptop in the closet and popping their shoes on as quickly as possible. 

Next the two picked up Hunk, who was upset to have to leave in the middle of his date with Shay for a “miscellaneous emergency,” and finally the group of three were running down the halls to Allura and Coran. When they found them, the two were with Kolivan. “Allura!” Lance greeted, his tone relieved. “Thank god. A Galran commander is trying to fucking kill you and life fucking sucks!”

His two companions gasped audibly, their heads whipping around at the news, but Allura was unsurprised. “I know.” She replied gravely, her eyebrows furrowed and tone clipped. 

In visible confusion Lance tilted his head to the side. “You know?   How?” 

Kolivan stepped forward, his voice matching the general sentiment of the room. “I believe I can answer that. Today I was informed by one of my agents of the plot and was just about to call you.”

Allura sent a grateful look to Kolivan, who nodded in affirmation, before she turned back to the group. “We knew this day would come, but thanks to the Blade’s information we should be able to both stop and cover up the attack.”

From there the older Blade described what the Galra planned to do, where they planned to enter and how they would attack. And maybe it was just Lance’s paranoia, but it felt like something in the scheme was lacking, like Kolivan was holding information back, like a piece of the puzzle was missing. “It will be up to us six to take out the group of Galrans,“ Kolivan concluded. 

Hunk gulped nervously, fear but determination dictating his expression. Pidge nodded, the small figure standing straighter and transforming into the Green Paladin before their very eyes. 

Coran cut in, “Allura we are going to need all the fighters we can,” he declared, pointedly. The regal teenager considered this for a moment before nodding. “Call him.” Then she turned her stare to Hunk, sizing him up. “And grab the Yellow Paladin armor.”

Coran grinned, “Of course.” 

“Allura,” Kolivan began, approaching her. “The Galra will be here very soon, it is time for me to leave you and go to do my part in deactivating the cameras.” 

The rebellion leader waved him off, both wishing each other luck, but Lance was confused as to why Kolivan wouldn’t stay to fight. Deactivating cameras couldn’t be that difficult, could it? He was about to voice his concerns when the doors burst open, a broad man in the Black Paladin armor and another leaner man in Voltron Coalition armor entering the room in a way that commanded attention. 

“Shiro? Adam?” Lance gasped in shock. No way. 

The other two were equally surprised at the presence of their new friend. “Lance?”

Shiro broke out of his surprise and walked over to him, clapping his shoulder and sending Lance stumbling forward. “I knew I liked you!” he exclaimed. 

Adam laughed in agreement, “How did Keith manage to surround himself with a bunch of rebellion fighters?”

Despite the obvious irony, Lance couldn’t bring himself to chuckle. He had avoided thinking about Keith and how he could have played a part in this plan to kill Allura. 

“So you’re a blade then Lance?” Shiro asked conversationally, observing the dark suit. At his affirmation, the older couple nodded, obviously pleased. 

“Well for this we’re gonna need all the fighters we can get. I hope you can use that gun.”

Lance swung his chosen rifle over his shoulder, ammo strapped to his chest, and grinned. “Oh don’t you worry about that.” 

When the group of Galran assassins finally arrived, they were unprepared for the fight that would ensue. The members were fierce, clearly more experienced than either Pidge or Hunk but the two were a great team and managed to fend off many Galra. Shiro and Adam were strong fighters, their fighting technique careful and purposeful, working insanely well together. On the other hand, Allura’s magic was evidently extremely powerful, the quintessence in constant use, bending to obscure her attacks. Coran wove in between people, healing his team as they fought. 

Lance’s trigger finger was in constant use, each bullet hitting its target with perfect accuracy, his mind clear and focused. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a Galran escape the room and ran to follow him, praying the cameras were deactivated. 

Once he was in the hallway, he shot the fleeing Galra in the back and ran over to drag the body back to the room for clean up later. But as he picked up the assassin’s legs something down the hall to his right caught his eye. “What the fuck?” he mouthed to himself. Kolivan was running away from the fight. Making a quick decision, following his gut instincts, Lance took off after him. 

He pursued the older Blade, turning down the halls that were far from the fight but the cameras were still down. This wasn’t part of the plan. 

Finally he came to a stop as Kolivan halted in front of the double doors of one of the Garrison rooms, watching as he reached for the handle. 

When his fingers were just an inch away, a voice rang loud and clear. “Kolivan, stop.” A figure stepped out from the hallway, clad in a thin black suit and two sword handles peeking out from the back. Keith. 

Lance watched with fascination, wondering if the teenager would take on Kolivan, but his question was soon answered when Keith spoke again. “This is my fight.”

Kolivan turned around to face the person addressing him, his hands dropping back to his sides. 

“You know the plan, Kolivan.”

“And yet I’m here, Akira ,”

Now Lance was just flat out confused. 

“ Trust me."

And there it was, the true question phrased into two simple words, the question of whether or not Keith could be an ally, could be a friend or perhaps whether or not he already was. 

Reluctantly Kolivan gave in, a hilarious scene from the point of view of an outsider as Keith was a great deal shorter than the older Blade. 

“Ok, you know the deal, go help the Paladins and remember: clean up the mess.” Keith instructed. “Choose one of theirs to frame, send me a scan and I’ll paint this shit as mutiny within the group.” He began to walk toward the double doors himself as Kolivan nodded and took off down the hall. 

Desperate to understand what was happening, Lance followed Keith through the doors, giving him ample time for a headstart which proved to be unnecessary because the next area was a massive room with both stairs leading downward and a balcony to observe what was happening. 

Down below, stood a massive and massively ugly figure. 

“Hello, Sendak,” Keith greeted coldly, standing on the steps leading down.

“Your majesty.” The Galran commander was condescending, sneering at Keith. His figure was imposing, muscles bulging and height terrifying. 

He was clearly waiting for a reply, but there were no more words from the small figure who evidently had little patience. Keith launched himself off the last two steps, twisting midair in a complicated kick, but Sendak caught the smaller figure by the calf with his massive hand, flinging him sideways into the wall where he slammed into the whiteboard and fell hard onto his side. Lance winced in sympathy, growing worried and questioning if he should interrupt. Something deep within his gut told him not to interfere quite yet, that his future depended on seeing how this fight would play out. 

From the ground Keith growled, pushing himself into a kneeling position, one leg tensed as if ready to launch once again in a second’s notice. 

“What are you doing?” Sendak barked. “You know just as well as I that the emperor, your father, ordered this mission. If you stand in my way I will not hesitate.” Despite him seemingly offering Keith the opportunity to leave, something about his demeanor told Lance that he was already doomed to fight. Big thick fingers flexed, forming a fist then stretching out once again threateningly. 

Lance remained quiet, still hiding on the ledge of the balcony, quintessence wrapped around him, desperate to understand what Keith was doing. 

“I see no reason why that should deter me.” It was spoken casually as if he hadn’t recently collided with a wall, as if his life wasn’t being threatened. Keith cocked his head to the side, his lips curled. 

Sendak did not appreciate the teenager’s attitude. “You will obey your father’s orders!”

“I have no obligation to do so,” Keith maintained, his voice still calm but there was a clear edge to it. 

Fire burst around Sendak and once again Lance questioned if he should interrupt the two. One part of his mind told him that he risked dying along with Keith and compromising his identity. The other begged him to save the boy he loved. Finally, the Cuban resolved that he would step in when Keith clearly needed the help, which at this point, seemed to be coming soon. 

“You challenge me, you challenge the empire. This is your final warning, runt,” Sendak spat. “Step down and stand before your father to admit your wrong doings.”

“I’d sooner die.” 

There was a roar of anger as Sendak rushed into action, his fists glowing with red fire, while Keith sprung from his position on the floor. The two seemed to be heading for a head on head impact, one that would obviously favor the much larger Galran, but at the last minute when Sendak thrust forth a hideous fire of pure force, Keith slid to the ground once more, taking advantage of the smooth floors and skidding across them, passing directly underneath Sendak’s rage. 

Without pausing a second, the smaller figure stood, drawing his two swords letting each spin in his hands before launching an attack. 

Large spikes of Earth sprung up from seemingly nowhere to not only block Keith’s attacks but to fly at him as well. Finally Keith was surrounded by a wall of rock, Sendak clearly laughing. “You insignificant insect. Did you sincerely believe you could defeat me with only one element and some swords? I have all this power in my hands, and you have nothing.” 

From his vantage point he could see the two below, Keith in his ring of Earth and Sendak standing outside casually. 

“You use your powers because you have no talent beyond them,” Keith snarled, swords still being spun in circles by nimble fingers. “The Galra’s greatest weakness is their inability to live without magic.”

Lance’s eyes widened considerably, noticing the subtleties of Keith’s words. He heard beyond the simple observations, that he seemed unworried but angry and that his opinions lined up perfectly with Lance’s. Keith was in thought, he was weighing something in his mind. 

Sendak laughed heartily and condescendingly, his sinister amusement slipping into his tone. “Says only those who do not wield the same power.”

“A declaration held true by those too dependent on it.” Keith replied, unphased. Because Sendak could not see the teenager stuck in the ring, he also couldn’t see him sheathing his swords. 

Lance was confused yet prepared to come to the rescue, but he held back when Keith removed his fingerless gloves and began to stretch his fingers in preparation. 

“I grow tired of your claims.” The commander thrust his hand out before quickly forming a fist. The rocks around Keith began to move towards him and Lance nearly called out when they seemed to collide with one another and thus the teenager. There was a great cloud of dust, and Sendak’s smile stretched wide amidst his ugly features. But when the dust cleared, Keith stood upright, fuming, flames curling around his arms. 

Lance couldn’t breathe, he felt like his throat was constricting, like everything around him was simultaneously closing in on him and disappearing into the background. His hands gripped the edge of the balcony, turning his tan skin neatly white, and his cheeks ashen. Vaguely he knew that his eyes were wrenched open, unblinking for such a period of time that they had begun to tear up. 

“You think you’re the only one who can play with rocks?” Keith thrust an arm out and Lance watched as the flames twisted around it and joined with the rocks that had just been thrust at the teenager only to be flung back at Sendak. 

For the first time, Sendak was silent, the shock affecting his defense, the burning rock very close to landing in his skull. 

Lance still struggled to breathe. 

A deep breath in… Keith swirled wind around him to clear the particles in the air… a deep breath out. 

A deep breath in… Sendak launched a stream of pressurized water towards the other… a deep breath out. 

A deep breath in… The water falls flat in front of thin, pale fingers… and then the visions start. 

A flash and Keith is tapping quietly on his desk bored of their lecture. 

A flash and Keith is staring straight at the camera, piercing the feed for a nanosecond, too quick to be noticed. 

A flash and Keith is breaking into his own home for the Bayard. 

A flash and Keith isn’t flinching in the face of threats from a man thrice his size. 

A flash and Keith is in open defiance of a Galran commander. 

A flash and everything makes sense. 

… a deep breath out. 

The fight had not paused for Lance to finally gain control of his breathing and his spinning mind. Sendak had recovered, meeting Keith’s elemental attacks with his own. He had regained his voice as well. 

“Even if you manage to bend the sky it will not change your parents regard,” Sendak sneered. “To them and everyone else you will always be a weakling.” He swung a heavy hand toward Keith, catching him in the stomach sending the teenager’s lighter figure hurtling into a rock panel.

Keith coughed from the floor, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He got to his feet once more and spat on the ground as he drew his two swords once again. “You can’t comprehend the number of fucks I don’t give.” The black metal of his weapons glinted, the blades sharp and ominous. 

Sendak, sure of his prospects, was only spurred on by hearing Keith spitting bloody words at him, the man’s twisted mind most likely finding enjoyment in seeing him wiping away the deep red with his bare arms. Large, thick fingers reached for a big thick sword that Lance hadn’t noticed was strapped on Sendak’s back. Where Keith wielded weapons that paralleled his own figure, lithe and agile, the Galran commander held one of brute force and intimidation.

He called out loudly, in a savage battle cry, beginning to charge like a stampeding rhino with loud stomps and a large sword ready to swing. Simultaneously, Keith ran quietly on the balls of his feet, using bits of rock springing from the floor to launch himself higher and walk nimbly through the air. 

With a loud roar Sendak swung his giant sword but its momentum prevented him from changing direction in mid air so he was helpless when Keith vaulted over it, back arching in the air as he flipped backward to land on a rock that had formed from nowhere which he immediately used to propel himself back to his momentarily defenseless opponent. 

A deep line of red formed on Sendak shoulder, further angering him. From there it was a flurry of movement, Keith’s agile figure twisting around powerful strokes. The major difference between the two was greater than Keith’s quicker, more dynamic movements. From where he sat Lance could tell that Keith was innately more powerful and more skilled. Where Sendak could only use his magic and weapons separately, Keith sprung from platforms built with Earth magic, escaped attacks with illusion magic. Strands of fire and water swirled around his black swords and arms alike, he used wind to give his slashes more power. 

But Keith was still much smaller than Sendak. To land a blow he had to get much closer and avoid the giant weapon and this is what eventually led to his fall.

Lance always thought that the worst, most tragic moments happened in slow motion, that time would stall. Maybe that’s why Lance didn’t step in until it was too late, because he thought that he’d have time, that he could see what was happening and somehow stop it. But in reality, there was no slow motion. Everything happened in a split second. 

Sendak had managed to knock Keith from the air with well timed use of his elemental magic, the spike of Earth colliding into him, and- as the teenager was stunned- Sendak drove that horrible, brutish sword into his side. 

When Keith collapsed limply and he dropped his two swords, Lance’s blood ran cold. 

The room was silent, his heart had stopped, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. 

Everything was still yet his world was spinning and falling and crashing and the tip of Sendak’s sword was piercing Keith’s skin and the person he loved was choking on blood. 

He felt anger, fear, misery, hatred, abhorrence, adrenaline, pain. 

But he still couldn’t move, his limbs were frozen, and his mind in shock. 

He needed to move. 

If he didn’t move, Keith died for nothing. 

If he didn’t move, Sendak would kill Allura. 

He needed to move… until he didn’t. 

Because Keith was laughing weakly. If everything hadn’t been silent and he hadn’t been listening intently, Lance might not have heard it, might’ve missed his whisper. 

“And another one bites the dust.”

And with these words, the situation changed. A thin spear formed from seemingly nothing and ran itself through Sendak appearing on the back of his shoulder. The commander dropped the sword impaling the teenager, shock written all over his face as he fell to his knees. 

Keith got up, hands grasping for the sword in his body and Lance wanted to call out to tell him removing i would only cause him to bleed out, but before he could say a word, the large weapon was clattering to the floor. The Galran son began to remove his armor, exposing a nasty rip in his toned stomach, a massive and fatal wound that was covered in blood. 

But when Keith summoned the water that was lying on the floor to clean off his body, the wound had disappeared and Keith was completely unscathed.

“Shapeshifter.” Sendak growled. 

Calmly, Keith put his shirt on once again, the rip in it exposing bare skin and where a bleeding wound should have been. “The Galra have always been so very blind, deceived by simple bad grades and faked performances.”

His words were filled with barely contained anger and loathing. “It makes the empire weak and it will be your end.”

If Lance’s mind hadn’t still been reeling, this statement would have made him pause.

Sendak, however, had somewhat regained his mind. “And what? Will you overthrow your parents? Will you take over the empire for yourself and make it strong?” There was a bloody laugh, interrupted by heavy choking that disrupted the sneer of doubt and incredulity. 

“I never suggested I want the empire to stand.” 

Lance should have been more shocked at this point but too many things were happening at once and all he could do was sit and watch. 

“You suggest rebellion,” Sendak barked, outraged.

“This shouldn’t be surprising. The tyranny of the Galra cannot live forever.” Keith spoke as if he was making a statement that should be sent around the world, as if he was performing for an audience yet the only one watching was Lance who hung onto every word he said. 

Sendak was a mixture of angry and astounded. “Your parents gave you everything!” 

“How the fuck?” Within a moment, Keith had lost all decorum, speaking like himself once again with plain annoyance. “My parents gave me shit. They are a pair of manipulative, egotistical fuckass bastards!”

The Galran teenager began to walk towards Sendak. “The Galran empire is destined to reign forever.” Sendak spat. 

“The empire will fall.”

Another bloody cough filled the silent room. “You think such a powerful institution will fall to you?” Sendak scoffed. “You’re a fool if you think you can end an ancient power simply because you can change your shape. You will never stop being a weakling.”

Keith tutted quietly. “It amazes me that you still can’t see that I never was. ” He spun his fingers quietly, drops of water spinning in small circles.

“You can’t keep this charade up forever. Your parents will figure it out.”

Keith stepped over a large rock and reached the commander kneeling in pain on the floor. “Oh I’m sure they will,” he replied lightly. “At some point. I’ll milk my time until then and when they do find out, well I’ll just have to kill them too.”

With that, Keith pulled out the spear in the commander’s body and watched as it transformed into a thin, beautifully crafted sword. Without another word, Sendak was dead and Lance was alone in the room. 

Chapter Text

To put it simply, Lance was… confused. If you wanted to get into semantics you could say he was flipping his shit, or maybe he didn’t know what the fuck was going on and he had never been more lost in his life. You could even go as far as to say that he really fucking hated life in fucking general and what the fuck was happening and fuck. 

He wasn’t melting down. In fact, he was actually wildly amazed at his ability to be calm and not melt down. 

But if he was someone else who did not possess the same fantastic faculties, then maybe he would have nearly killed himself trying to climb the building in the dark so as to avoid eyes and cameras just so he could reach his favorite place to be alone. And maybe, maybe if he wasn’t as tranquil and logical as he was, then he might have spent about an hour on that roof, screaming at the stars and cussing them out because what the fuck was his life?

But this was all hypothetical of course, because Lance would never, ever do these things. That thing with Keith? Didn’t even phase him. 

He controlled all the elements? Pssh, nothing. Sure he was powerful, sure he could fight like all hell, but at the end of the day could he make cement out of sand? 

He killed Sendak and thus revealed that the Galran Son was actually a rebel? Just an average day for Lancey Lance.

He was a shapeshifter? Shapeshifters were myths, ergo Keith was a myth, ergo none of this was happening.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell Hunk or Pidge about it, couldn’t get their advice for fear that Keith would spill Lance’s beans if Lance spilled his and the Cuban could not afford any bean spillage. That would be the fucking cherry on top of the shitpile that was his life.

But after he stopped screaming, stopped waving his hands around in one part exasperation and another desperation, he looked up to find the stars twinkling in reminder that everyone was still here, that the world was still moving. And then he began to think.

Sitting on the edge of the roof, the hood of his light blue sweatshirt peeking out of his jean jacket and his heart racing underneath, Lance began to truly dissect everything that had happened both during Keith’s fight and after. 

After seeing that, which he would come back to after literally everything else, Lance had been somewhat of a statue, frozen in infinite shock for the better part of that afternoon. During the “clean up” aka cover up the Cuban had remained silent, the others giving him confused looks, and watching him intently. When asked about his mood, Lance had merely shrugged, still unable to wrap his mind around the situation much less explain it out loud. Nothing much had happened within those two hours that would be worthy of analyzation.

But his conversation with Shiro was a different story. 

Previously on the fuckshit that is Lance’s life...

“Hey, Shiro?” Lance approached the hunched figure tentatively. He glanced around nervously, blue eyes skipping from person to person, taking in their activities, facial expressions and finally resting on the bodies that lay at their feet. The older man lifted his head, looking away from the clipboard he was holding, the little tuft of white at the top flopping with the movement. Soft eyes and pinched eyebrows studied his face kindly, minutely softening Lance’s tumultuous insides. “Can we talk?”

“Um, sure,” the Black Paladin replied, setting down his pen and clipboard. He brushed eraser chips off his suit and together they walked out of the bustling room. As they left, Allura’s questioning stare pieced their backs, her need to control all knowledge and every situation causing her discomfort when both ignored her. Adam’s slight furrow of the eyebrows indicated curiosity, but one nod from Shiro calmed him and thus he returned to comforting Hunk whose nervous energy permeated throughout the room. 

A wave of guilt overtook Lance, making him feel nauseous. It was clear the newly proclaimed Yellow Paladin needed support, and had for the past two hours, but Lance found himself unable to comfort his best friend when he himself was more uncertain than ever. Coran and Pidge were hunched over Galran weapons and items, whispering to one another about various numbers and other bullshit that was probably interesting but sounded like a completely different language to him.

“So what’s on your mind? Something about the battle bothering you?” Lance felt a comforting weight on his shoulder, the strong hand of a talented friend grounding him in reality.

His nervous energy must have been obvious because Shiro grew more and more concerned, his eyes tracking Lance’s movements as the teenager swayed from side to side, shifting his weight from right to left. “It’s about Keith.”

“What about him?”

“Is there something...” Lance struggled to express what he wanted to ask without revealing too much. “Is there something about him that I’m missing?”

With a confused expression Shiro tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“Well, haven’t you ever felt like something about him was… off? Like he didn’t make sense?”

Unfortunately, his vague hinting had not sparked any recognition for the Black Paladin whose eyebrows remained furrowed in befuddlement. “I know his views are questionable Lance, but we talked about this, the boy might be good at heart even if-“

Lance waved his hand in dismissal “yeah I know, I know, but right now. Not his potential, who is Keith right now?” His voice was begging, begging Shiro for some explanation, just a sliver of knowledge that would make everything okay. 

But the man just frowned. 

“I’m sorry Lance, how Keith truly feels is… hard to understand. He’s a loose cannon, someone with potential to have a major impact and be the difference in this never ending rebellion. But whether he fights for good or bad? I do not know and cannot tell with those high walls of his.”

Lance groaned loudly, the groan of a boy truly aware of how little progress he was making, and decided to take a more direct approach. 

“Well, what are his powers? Why do you think he could be so useful?” 

The Paladin shook his head in mild amusement. “Oh, I don’t mean he would be useful with magic- I mean only one element isn’t going to do much. I just mean his status, his heritage could give us a very unique-“

“A spy, you want him to be a spy.”

Shiro stopped to consider the interruption. “Yes and no.” The hand on Lance’s shoulder went up to its owner’s hair, playing with the white tufts. “On the one hand I think he could help as a spy a lot. That’s the rebellion leader in me.” While speaking the older man seemed somewhat ashamed, his mouth quirking guiltily as he admitted, “but I don’t want to put him in danger. We’ve been through so much, and I just-“

Lance spared him any additional torture, “I know Shiro, I get it.” And he did get it, it was a matter of choosing between protecting those you loved or putting them at risk for the betterment of your cause. “Remember Shiro: it’s not all on you. If Keith joins this rebellion and becomes a spy, it’s his choice, you couldn’t put him in danger if he wasn’t willing.”

The Black Paladin gave him a thankful smile, but it was also rueful, once again impressing upon Lance just how much responsibility the man who was so young had on his shoulders. The Cuban was anonymous, nobody expected anything from him or looked at him, but all eyes were on Shiro. 

“So you’re absolutely certain that Keith doesn’t have some weird mojo to fuck us all up?”

“Yes, Lance. Why though? Why ask?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he dismissed already walking back into the room, slightly annoyed because Shiro- Keith’s closest friend- was fucking useless, and slightly sad for the man he left behind. 

Despite having learned very little from Shiro himself, the man’s lack of knowledge spoke great volumes simply because of its implications.

He was the Black Paladin . And this was no mere title- being a member of Voltron itself implied incredible talent and also placed him at the core of rebellion. Furthermore, the Black Paladin was renowned as the imposing leader of the group, known for strength, diplomacy and fearsome combat. But if he was so damn important- why did he know fucking nothing?

The whole Keith thing was so surprising and unusual because the Cuban was accustomed to knowing most of what was happening. Lance had managed to find himself a powerful group of friends, he had ties with the two most influential rebellion groups- Voltron and the Blade.

Allura, the leader of the resistance , was the first to tell Lance that Keith, although the spawn of all evil, was no threat. 

“Oh Laanncceee ,” He mimicked loudly, to no one but the stars and the wind, with a heavily exaggerated accent that probably would have earned him a slap to the head had she been present. “Don’t worry about Keith, Laancceeee. He’s nothing but a big meanie.” He was pretty certain she used those exact words once or twice.

The ginger-haired man, on the other hand, had offered advice here and there that had seemingly revolved around a distant relative and intricate life lesson that was great if you wanted to fuel the Boredom Express but not great if you actually wanted information.

And now, to top it off, even Shiro was ignorant to the truth.

The universe was not making his life easy.

But Lance knew one thing for certain: Kolivan knew.

Allura was right: the Blades were holding their most powerful cards under the table.  

Previously on Lance’s Tiring Life...

“Pidge,” Lance greeted, the small genius merely nodding in acknowledgement, not looking up from the laptop on which they were typing furiously. “I was wondering what you knew about the Blade.”

“I know just as much as you do, Lance.” Their eyes still did not stray from the screen and they sounded annoyed at not being able to work in silence, but Lance figured the situation was important enough to justify the fact that he really didn’t care if they were annoyed. “I mean you are the Blade out of the two of us.”

“You haven't, in all your investigations, found anything about the Blade that I might not know.” The Cuban watched their face carefully, registering the curiosity and suspicion creeping into their expression. 

“Why?” they asked slowly. “Do you know something?” 

“Maybe.” 

Finally they looked up. “And? Are you going to tell me?”

Lance paused, pretending to consider it. Finally he leaned in, glancing dramatically from side to side as if to make sure no one was watching. Then he whispered, “No.”

Pidge scowled, their small fist connecting with his arm at which he winced but chuckled in amusement at his own joke. “You’re not funny. You know that, right? What do you know?” they demanded. 

“Nothin’. Zip. Zilch. Nada.”

“Lance!” The Green Paladin was growing frustrated, their youth evident and curiosity growing. The laptop had been discarded, placed haphazardly on the floor. 

“Yes?” 

This time their voice was threatening which intimidated the Cuban but not nearly enough to capitulate.“Tell. me.”

“Tell you what?” He burst out laughing when Pidge flung their small body towards him in anger, hitting him repeatedly and reminding him distinctly of his younger siblings. 

“Fine, fine! You wanna know what I know? Nothing.” They lowered their voice to a near whisper, glancing at Kolivan to make sure he was still deeply involved in conversation with Shiro, the two broad shouldered leaders discussing plans and suspicions. “So I told you that someone broke into my computer right, well I dug around a little and hacked the Blade’s system and found a mission log for it. A Blade hacked into my computer, Lance, a Blade.”

Lance sat down silently next to them, legs crossing in instinct, mind physically exhausted yet running at 100 mph from all the information. 

“Do you know who?”

Pidge looked at them a little apologetically. “Well originally I thought it was you, but then when you came in that one night and explained your situation, I saw your surprise at my story of the break in. Plus I checked past mission logs and every mission you’ve ever been on was listed to Leandro ” The Cuban waved his arm in dismissal, not caring about their suspicions. “But this mission had no name next to it.”

“No name?” Lance echoed in confusion, not quite knowing what technicalities they were speaking of.

Pidge caught on to his sentiment. “I’ll explain: the mission database is brief, only codenames. You and I both know the Blade do not put all their stock into technology but even so they have very basic information on every completed mission but this one? This one was blank, empty and there were many like them, everything blocked out and restricted and the name always unknown. Whoever it is, whoever broke in doesn’t exist in terms of the Blade.”

Fucking hell, Keith. Just how deep are you?

Lance hmmed, unable to think of anything else to say. 

“So…”

The Cuban feigned innocence, “So what?” He imagined that if he had long curly hair he’d be twirling it with his fingers as if he was a flirty rich kid. 

“What do you mean? Tell me what you know!” Outrage colored their tone, outrage and annoyance.

Lance tsked, “you’re beginning to sound like a broken record, Pidgey Poo.”

The look he got in return sent him running. 

“Get back here!” they shrieked. “You asshole!”

“Nope!” 

“I know you’re hiding something, McClain,” Pidge called after him, reminding Lance distinctly of their previous interrogations. 

He blew a kiss before swiveling around, waving goodbye as he walked away. “If you haven't figured it out yet, Pidgey Poo, I doubt you will ever.”

But I will. 

From this Lance deduced: Pidge, the Green fucking Paladin who had hacked into nearly every database that existed could offer nothing but vague information about a Blade who didn’t even exist. 

Great. Just great.

After examining everything that had happened, all he could really conclude was that Keith was some sort of agent (Lance was guessing a Blade, but was in the dark about rank or associations), was somehow a Shapeshifter (he still couldn’t believe they actually existed), and actually hated his parents (point Keith). 

There was really only one obvious solution, only one way to find out just what was happening. And as if the universe could read his mind, he heard the telltale sound of light footsteps as someone approached. On that roof, with the cold wind stinging his cheeks and the air chilling his bones, on that roof that was supposed to be a secret, supposed to be a hiding spot, on that roof with someone he thought he knew but was truly a stranger, on that roof he broke.

Lance knew who it was before he spoke, before he saw those beaten up red converses dangle off the roof next to his blue vans and before he felt that familiar warmth settle next to him. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, Keith staring at the stars and Lance still lost in his thoughts, both shivering with the light breezes but unwilling to leave.

“I didn’t know you’d be here too,” the Galran commented lightly without turning his head.

But Lance wasn’t in the mood for small talk, didn’t feel like pretending.

“Keith, I’m so tired.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded broken and scared and defeated. The boy in question cocked his head to the side, those deep eyes searching, wide and beautiful in the moonlight, drinking Lance in so he felt like he couldn’t breathe again, forcing him to look away. His mouth opened to reply, but Lance stopped him. “I’m so very tired and you know it just sucks.”

“It sucks?” 

“ Yeah,” he breathed out, finally giving in to prodding eyes, unimaginably fierce, burning and volatile yet oh so suffocating.

When Lance was young, he had wanted love so badly, had assumed it could do nothing but good. All the boys in his first school had teased him for it, his family too, but who could blame the idealistic child who had seen too many rom coms and whose parents were clearly soulmates.

As he grew up, he had slowly realized that love was not quite so easy, that his parents fought sometimes and that not everyone felt the same way about it as he did. It was when Plaxum and he broke up that he realized love could hurt.

And yet, that young boy was not gone and Lance remained a romantic at heart. Even if he knew love could be painful, he had faith in it. The Cuban truly believed that if he met the one they could move beyond all the obstacles, that the fights or anger or pain were just part of the movie’s climax and it would all work out in the end. After all, at the end of the day his parents were happy and the protagonist always made it to the airport on time and Lance always cried. Everytime one of his relationships ended, or his crush was unreciprocated, that just meant they weren’t it for him. 

It wasn’t until he fell for Keith that he got so sick and tired of people defining and revising what love was. Now, he was so inexplicably annoyed by those goddamn monologues but not because defining love was so evil, not because it “restricted the emotion” or any bullshit like that. He was annoyed because it was arrogant to assume the way you feel is how everyone else feels, to believe that how you define love is the ultimate answer. Love can be anything you want it to be and it is different for everyone.

When he fell for Keith, it felt like nothing he had ever felt before. It felt like a fucking contradiction, like that cliche idea of drowning but breathing at the same time and he hated it. He hated being a contradiction, hated the warmth Keith made him feel, hated that he loved it, and hated that he was just falling into the trap every protagonist did, where they realize they were wrong about what love was the entire time. Riveting stuff, really.

At the end of the day, a happy ending for the two of them seemed so impossible, the end of the movie so far away. But he had learned a valuable lesson. To him, love would never be defined by what it was, but rather who. 

To some people, to love is to need. But to Lance, the beauty of it was that you didn’t need the other person. You just wanted them.

And he wanted Keith so badly .

“Lance?” Keith softly prodded. “Are you in there?” Lightly he knocked the side of his head, tentatively teasing. 

“I saw you,” he said bluntly, finally raising his head to meet Keith’s eyes again. Out of all the missions, of everything he's ever had to do this felt like the scariest. The Galran hadn’t caught on, his eyes still quizzical. “I saw you and Sendak.”

Keith immediately stiffened, his eyes hardening yet still flickering with emotion. “I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” His voice was cold, matching his new demeanor which had shifted so quickly from what it was before. 

“Oh save it, Keith. I saw everything and I don’t even care if you kill me like you killed Sendak, you can even throw me off this roof, but please. I’m so tired of being confused, of not understanding anything that’s going on around me. I’m so tired of being completely unsure of everything and I’m so fucking tired of being tired. What’s going on Keith?”

And something in his broken voice, something in his terrified words made Keith sigh, the tension leaving his body in resignation and his figure deflating. Lance felt both regret and relief when Keith’s gaze turned back to the sky as if they held all the answers, eyes reflecting the moonlight. 

“I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

Chapter Text

“I’m being adopted?”

“Yes hun, someone’s interested in those fire powers of yours.”

“Shouldn’t the rest of your elements have developed by now?”

“I’m trying!”

“Apparently not hard enough.”

“How many elements I have is not under my control.” 

“The Galra will not have a weak emperor!”

“Then you should have never adopted me in the first place. In fact, just let me leave now.”

“And bring even more disgrace to our image? Would you have the Empire and our reputation ruined beyond what you’ve already done to it?”

“I've done nothing!”

“Your weakness has brought shame to us all.”

“Don’t expect us to be home for the holidays.”

“As if I give a fuck. ‘Home?’ Bullshit.”

“My name’s Takashi Shirogane and you just burnt my math.”

“Keith, you’re going to have to go back home eventually.” 

“Why? I don’t see why I can’t just run away with you, it’s not like they’d miss me.”

“C’mon, you think you’re parents would ever be okay with that?”

“It’s been 15 years, Shiro. 15 years of torture and loneliness and I just want to leave these fuckholes behind.”

“It’s too dangerous. I know it’s been painful, but you just have to hold on a little while longer. What if they come after us? Who will protect you?”

“How the fuck did I just do that?”

“This isn’t possible-”

“Are you Keith?”

“Who’s asking?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“How you respond to my proposal.”

“Hello, Keith. It’s been a longtime, what with you disappearing on me all summer. Couple of months, right? Almost 16 now and you think you’re too old for your brother?”

“You’re not my brother Shiro, but sorry I was really busy the whole time.”

“Not your brother? But you’ve called me that for years.”

“Yeah and I’m almost 16.”

“So? Keith, what went down this summer?”

“Just bonded with my parents.”

“Bonded. With... your parents?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the light, you know?”

“You’re fucking with me, right.”

“I’m gonna be the Galran Emperor some day, Shiro. It had to happen at some point.”

“Keith?”

“Where are you going at such a late time?!”

“It’s none of your business. You’re not my dad, Shiro.”

“Are you working for your family?”

“It shouldn’t be surprising if I was. They are my family after all and I am their heir.”

“Keith, please-”

“Well, well Emperor Keith have fun rotting in hell.”

“My name’s Lance McClain, but you can call me your worst nightmare.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Just leave me alone, alright?”

“Only if you leave ME alone.”

“All of a sudden… when you were 15, you turned dumb, had a brain injury and became popular.”

“Keith?!”

“No one will take you seriously when you become emperor. You aren’t powerful, you aren’t liked, not scary… No redeemable qualities. No power in general.”

“And what if that’s what I want you to think.”

“Lance, I need you to turn it in to wood.”

“I think you’re tired, Samurai. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Sharpshooter.”

“The Galran Empire is destined to reign forever.”

“The Empire will fall.”

“I’m so tired of being completely unsure of everything and I’m so fucking tired of being tired. What’s going on Keith?”

“I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

As a kid, Keith loved to draw. It was his solace in a world where he was all alone, where he had no family or friends. When he was adopted, he was still young enough to believe that he could have a true family and too young to know who had adopted him. But even then he continued to draw. Time went on and his talent developed and eventually the world became a world of shapes and colors dissected before his eyes, the subtle shadows and highlights popping out at every turn. 

Rather than believing life to be a book and each era chapters, Keith liked looking at life in terms of circles. To him, a person was stuck on a circle and they could go one way around the circle or the other and perhaps even stay on the bottom of the circle going back and forth. But at the end of the day, no matter which way they went, they always ended up in the same place, or in his case: the same person. 

Keith’s circle always led him back to Zarkon. It was partially due to his own philosophy that he had tried so hard to be enough for his parents. 

To say his home life had been miserable would be an understatement. For the first ten years of his life, up until he was around 13, he lived in constant fear, his weakness and lack of powers endlessly shoved in his face while his body was shoved into the ground. 

And yet he trained. Every night he worked till the latest hours, till the early morning, pushing himself till he couldn’t move, till he had mastered every weapon possible, till he couldn’t feel anything anymore but pain and sore muscles. 

But as he trained, as he grew accustomed to pushing himself beyond his limits, he began wondering why. Why was he training so hard?

Faintly he knew that at some point it had been to gain his parents approval, to maybe find some hidden powers or unlock his magic. 

And then it had become a release, a way to manage his anger and loneliness.

And then it evolved into something he did to cope with his hatred of his parents and the Empire.

But at that moment, he didn’t know his purpose. 

Until he met Shiro. Shiro became a ray of light in Keith's life, someone willing to look past his status and see him as who he was: a teenager who had nothing but hatred for his parents. Conveniently, the older boy hated the Galra too.

It was around the first year being friends with Shiro that he resolved to bring down the Empire. 

At this point, he still believed that everyone had a single circle, but now when he did finally return to that one point -to Zarkon- it would be to finally end him. 

But then, then something changed. It had been a terrible day at home of being called a weakling, a runt, being kicked around and Keith had been more determined than ever to reach that top of the circle, driving himself to dangerous exhaustion before Shiro found him. The older boy had screamed at him and subsequently revealed to Keith that Shiro truly cared for him. 

Two things happened that day. One, he began to call Shiro his brother. Two, Keith decided that a person did not have a single circle and his future would not always lead him back to Zarkon. 

And thus his theory changed. Instead of one circle a person is destined to wander forever, people could step off the circle and find a new one, as your life changed the circle did as well. Almost like chapters, though not quite so based on events but rather people and beliefs. 

He likes to think this circle always led him back to Shiro.

When he discovered his powers, Keith unwillingly jumped circles again. The minute he saw his skin change he had known, his life was meant for something more than simply returning to a best friend, a brother. 

Originally, he thought this meant he had returned to an endless cycle of his parents and Zarkon. He joined the Blades, his identity hidden from every database, known only to Kolivan. His powers, however, he never revealed them to anyone. But then his circle became his own again and he didn’t know to whom it led. 

It was around age 17 when Keith discovered his own truth. It had been 2 years of searching through ancient records, investigating every mural, every piece of art and every book. Bit by bit he learned about his past, each piece falling into place until he could step back from the board and see a picture of the truth. 

Now Keith was never a romantic, but when he began dating James he had considered the possibility that he had been the person. But when he had said “I love you”, Keith couldn’t say it back and he berated himself for ever considering his circle’s point to be a simple lover. 

Who could blame him? James was good looking even if a bit rude, which Keith didn’t mind, it was just how he was. Besides Keith himself was a bit rude so he really had no say. When they broke up, Keith had been sad but he had seen it coming. There were too many obstacles, too many complications. And James could never know his truths, no one could. 

Now Keith wasn’t blind, he had never overlooked his “rival”. How could he? Lance was loud, flirty and had blue eyes that Keith struggled not to melt over, goddamn it. He had always been a sucker for lightly tanned skin and pretty eyes which meant Lance really was inconvenient for him. 

But that’s all he was, an inconvenience. 

Until he was more. 

When Keith realized Lance was trailing him he had been a bit annoyed and a bit confused. He was leaning towards annoyed. 

Some important factors had stood out: the Cuban was trained. He knew the pathways just as well as Keith himself did, and if Keith hadn’t been as experienced as he was then Lance could have tailed him easily. Another thing he noticed was that the blue eyed teenager, although hot, was very irritating. 

Despite the irritation, Keith had never underestimated Lance, had learned from a young age to follow his guts and thus he had never believed anything the Cuban propagated. 

What he had told Lance had been no lie, he had noticed his shifty eyes, had recognized a quiet intelligence. 

It wasn’t hard to find out Lance was a Blade. To some degree the news came as a relief, a safe explanation. But it was also too easy. 

So when Lance’s smaller friend had conveniently mentioned the exact period in which his suspicious behavior had begun and it just happened to coincide with his own change, Keith finally pieced the full story together. 

At first, he was confused. Lance the Chaos? It didn’t seem possible. But then he had begun to think: the Cuban was trained, Keith’s presence ensured his stability and he was deeply hidden within the most heavily monitored institution. From there he decided that for now it was impossible to know just how much power boiled beneath Lance’s skin. 

As they grew closer, bonded by their secrets and a newfound friendship, Keith began to wonder just how Lance fit in to his life. 

And for the first time in his life, he began to consider confessing his truth, the truth . 

Telling someone else about what he was and what he had learned about the world had crossed his mind before. But never before had he fully considered it as a possibility, not with Adam, Kolivan or even Shiro. 

His rationale had always been that they wouldn’t understand and in the back of his mind he was always terrified it was all a set up, that he could truly trust no one. 

It took him years to accept that the three most important people in his life weren’t there to betray him, but with this acceptance came guilt. Keith wanted to use his powers to help, but he was scared- so instead he hid them, only using them when absolutely necessary and instead relying on his own physical abilities and fundamental magic. 

He had a feeling Lance was the same. 

Knowing Lance was hiding a secret just as big as his own, that the Cuban understood and was essentially his compliment, made Keith burn. He wanted to tell Lance so badly, despite his mind reminding him that they didn’t know each other that well, that telling someone was far too dangerous, that he could trust no one. 

Everything about Lance was overwhelming, from his eyes to his personality to those stupid nicknames that made him feel stupid fucking butterflies every fucking time. 

The teenager could sweat and end up sending Keith down a spiral of “how can skin be that perfect? It’s like golden- what the absolute shit?”

He knew he had it bad when Lance tripped and Keith thought it was absolutely adorable- like who thinks these things? Not Keith, that’s who. 

It was just unfair, like who gave Lance the right to make Keith question everything about his life? I mean it’s just rude. 

And he wanted to tell him so badly. 

When he saw the Cuban at the edge of the roof, the roof that Keith went to when he just needed to be , he sat there for a little while just watching. 

Flashes of Lance passed through his mind, unrelentless and painful. A flash and Lance is releasing his mask to reveal those blue eyes he cursed. A flash and Lance is terrified as he’s forced to use his powers in front of Keith, the enemy. A flash and there is a sigh of minor relief when Keith assures him he won’t tell. A flash and Lance is shocked at the sight of an outstretched meal card. A flash and Lance is smiling warmly at the offer of some old, worn down fingerless gloves. 

A flash and they’re on the roof and Lance is begging to understand and every part of Keith is shocked and scared and unsure. 

A flash and Keith is faced with a choice that will change everything. 

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Keith decides to choose for himself. Because he wanted to tell Lance so badly, and so he would. 

“Well it’s a little complicated,” Keith began hesitantly, his violet eyes shifting side to side and muddled with uncertainty, resignation and determination. “First, we must establish one minor detail. You, Lance McClain are not the Chaos.”

Silence. 

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Lance’s voice was about two octaves higher than usual, his head cocked to the side and eyes wide. 

Being careful to enunciate every word carefully, Keith started, “You are-”

“Ok ok I didn’t need you to repeat it. I’m not the Chaos? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Let me explain,” Keith placated, sighing with the knowledge that it was going to be very difficult to get Lance to understand. “I am.” 

Lance scoffed, cutting Keith off, “Wow that’s bold.”

“Ok. Can you just shut the fucking fuck up? I’m trying to fucking explain.”

In his distress, the Cuban was becoming more and more surly, arms crossed defensively. “I’m just saying that’s quite the claim considering you and I both know you’re fucking around with the elements and not matter.”

“Well technically the elements are matter,” Keith glared at him when he opened his mouth to retort. “And besides I am literally trying to explain right now but someone won’t let me!”

“Oh don’t you do the someone thing!”

“I’ll do the someone thing if I want because it’s true.” The Galran’s voice grew higher pitched. “ Oh my name is Lance and I’m such a whiny bitch-”

“Keith.” Lance warned. 

“ I asked for the truth because I'm tired-”

“Keith!”

“-but now ‘cause I’m too wimpy to hear it I’m gonna whine.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Keith.” The Cuban snarled threateningly (Keith would vehemently deny the small growl made him hot and fueled some fantasies).

“Oh sure you will. Admit it Sharpshooter, you’re all bark and no bite.”

Lance smirked, leaning into the other’s space until he could feel Keith’s breath on his nose, the smell of the Galran’s strawberry gum making him grin. “I assure you I am most certainly willing to bite.” 

The Galran flushed immediately, scowling to cover up the light pink on his cheeks. 

“The Chaos and the Calm,” Keith started. 

“Oh so now you want to talk.”

A glare. “The Chaos and the Calm-”

“The Chaos and the what?” Lance interrupted again. 

“Oh my fucking god shut your fucking trap. The Chaos and the Calm... an ancient story buried underneath my family’s lies, their deceptions” Keith nearly spat the words out. The venom invading his tone as he mentioned his family contrasted the honey dipped exclamations that would previously accompany mentions of his family when he was in public (wow he should have seen the truth earlier- Keith was never that positive about anything). 

“At the very beginning of time the world was unstable and miserable and all that bullshit, you know. Violence was a never ending constant, what else is new to be honest. Eventually the universe, because it works in the weirdest of ways, sought to fix it. Was it fate, the hand of a deity? Many speculate, but I frankly don’t care. Either way the result was the same: two entities were created to, well as avatar would say, ‘establish balance in the universe.’”

There was a light chuckle from the Galran, but whether it was directed towards his own reference or just the ridiculousness of the situation was unclear. 

“But why then does violence persist? Why then do my parents dominate our world? Why then am I speaking with ‘why thens’? Where is this balance that we are supposed to return?” Now frustration laced his words, the question, although rhetorical, seeming like a genuine inquiry to the skies. 

“The Chaos and the Calm were intended to act not as polar opposites but rather complementary pieces. And while this is true, and it’s easy to sum up our existence as mere pieces in a puzzle of two, there are subtleties that lie beyond what is expected, what is normal. The universe is obviously imperfect, and what is intended is so often turned on its head. Not everything can fit into neat categories and definitions, no matter how hard we try to force them too.”

Lance hummed, understanding too well the unpredictability of his world. 

“The problems lie in a simple fact: the Chaos and the Calm are not two souls passed through generations. Each is a unique person with the same influences of nature and nurture as every other boring human being on the planet. After all, they are only people granted powers because their parents were… together at that time, at the ‘perfect’ moment.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Lance found himself grinning mildly into space, finding Keith’s phrasing very amusing. “Together, Keith?” He was ignored. 

“The names themselves are inherently misleading. In fact they were named this way in ancient times because of one specific and prominent pair. The Chaos is not the architect of destruction and disaster, the Calm is not always some peaceful figure. Their titles do not define them and I would even go as far to say that whether you are one or the other is completely irrelevant. Both can be good, both bad or one of each, but simply their existence, their cooperation, opposition or even neutrality has a huge impact on which way the world turns. There have been countless pairs that just hated each other, some who fell in love, some who became best friends and some who never even met. The fact of the matter is, people are people, no matter what they are called or their abilities.”

The Cuban’s mind was racing, confused and shocked as he absorbed the information that came into contradiction with everything he believed true, everything the world believed true. There was a pause as Keith recognized Lance’s swirling emotions. 

“Now in terms of the Galran family, they have terrorized this Earth for centuries. Periods of them ruling and subjugating the people, alternating with periods where they strive to do everything in their power to be in power again. Thus the Chaos and the Calm often found themselves either allies or enemies of the family, more often the latter but whether they were good or evil was their choice.”

Keith took in a deep breath. 

“However, the Galra’s status as Elementals brought them a more natural enemy than these beings of nature. The Shapeshifters- the forgotten faction.”

Shapeshifters, finally an explanation. 

“I know they are nothing more than a rumor, a myth now” Keith said softly. “In the past they were the main rivals of the Galra.”

Keith spoke as if he was mourning. “Shapeshifters didn’t agree with the supremacy of any one group and thus they fought against the Galra viciously. The bond between Shapeshifters and Elementals is what is responsible for the Chaos just as the blend of energy and matter is what makes the Calm. That’s why approximately 300 years ago, the Shapeshifters were systematically assassinated and exterminated by the Galra. They became an extinct species. And then to top it off,” his voice grew more and more angry, “the Galra erased all existence of them, claiming their lives and making them mere folklore. Fucking disgusting as fuck, if you ask me.”

Keith broke off angrily, a pit of unbridled hatred rising within him. Lance on the other hand was struggling to wrap his mind around everything, he couldn’t comprehend the extinction of an entire people. Disgusting was right.

“They just forgot?” he questioned quietly. Keith turned his head to the side.

“I’ll never understand exactly how the world forgot. It makes my blood boil.” Then he turned back to pierce Lance with his gaze. “But there was a greater consequence. According to my research on the subject, the Chaos was born to a Shapeshifter and Elemental and thus they held those powers. On the other hand, the Calm came from one parent who controlled energy and another who played with matter. That’s why you have the powers you do.”

Lance nodded in agreement, well aware of his parents' abilities. 

“Therefore, the extinction of the Shapeshifters made it impossible for the powers of the Chaos to return to this world.”

Then how are you here?

“Such began a new story. Your story. Why people call you the Chaos rather than the Calm despite the fact that your powers align with that of the ancient Calm.”

His ears perked up. This had been the main question bothering him and he was eager to find the answer.

“With the absence of the Chaos, as generations passed, the Calm became unstable, almost as if trying to compensate for the empty space that the Chaos had left. Those with the power of the Calm could not control themselves, couldn’t hide who they were because of their innate feelings of pain and instability. Thus they revealed their identity quickly, giving the Galra the power to kill them before there was a chance of their maturation. The figure most necessary to the rebellion gone long before you and I were ever born. Eventually my story was forgotten and the title passed on to the only figure whose powers stood out.”

Lance waited for Keith to continue, slightly breathless from the story and slightly lost. But the Galran was silent, simply staring at him as if to gauge his reaction. 

“So you’re telling me…”

“Yup.”

“That I’m some fucking thing…”

“Uh huh.”

“Called the Calm?”

“That’s you.”

“And you’re the Chaos?”

“That’s me.”

“And the Shapeshifters- they’re real?”

“Precisely.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I know right.”

“How did you find out all about this?”

“Well I wanted to learn about my past,” Keith replies as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Lost for words Lance just nodded, shocked by the shyness of the black haired man before him, shocked by everything he just learned and shocked by his immediate acceptance of it. 

“So what about you?” 

Keith cocked his head to the side, expression soft and questioning. Lance tried not to melt. “What about me?”

“How are you… here?”

“Wow vague much? Technically I climbed up the side of the-” Apparently revealing his biggest secrets made Keith more of a smartass than he usually was.

“Can you not.”

Keith raised his hands in the universal “alright I admit defeat” motion. “Do you remember the day you found out about your powers?”

“Of course, how could I not? I got so excited then so depressed in like an hour.” The two giggled slightly, grinning at one another lazily. “I swear one minute I was outside confused, then I was experimenting with snow -making dumbass swords and chocolate- and the next my parents were comforting me about some break up that never happened but I just couldn’t tell them the truth. I went from being a weak nothing to a powerful wanted man.”

Keith’s expression grew wistful at the mention of Lance’s family, as if he was imagining what it would have been like to have that. The Cuban resolved to bring him home and make him part of his own family. “Yeah well when I found out, I had no clue what it meant. All of a sudden I could make myself taller, or have red skin or turn in to an animal and I felt invincible. But Shapeshifters weren't real. So I searched and when I finally found the truth it was like everything in my life changed like me being miserable and hating my damn parents finally meant something.”

There was an awkward silence as Lance tried to respond to all of that. “No wonder you're jacked up.”

He felt himself being pushed onto his side roughly, causing laughter to bubble out of his chest as Keith wrestled him down. “You dick!” the other exclaimed, feigning anger but his eyes shining with amusement.

It felt like such a relief to just laugh. 

“Anyway,” the Galran began pointedly as Lance continued chuckling beside him. “One day, I was in a coffee shop when Kolivan approached me.”

The Cuban couldn't resist commenting, “wow that must have been scary.” 

“ Right. He offered me a job, a spy and that was that.”

“So you really are a spy.” In a vain attempt to keep the awe out of his voice, Lance refused to look at Keith while speaking, refused to look at him and reveal just how much Keith’s small “yeah” meant to him.

“Does Shiro know?” Previously, he had assumed Shiro didn’t, but there was still a clear possibility that he was lying to cover the Galran’s tracks.

The other teenager shook his head head, “no one but you and Kolivan know I’m a spy. And no one but you knows my powers.”

Lance couldn’t stop the “woah” that escaped. They sat there staring at one another for a little while, both slightly blushing until everything just collapsed and Lance was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe and he thought he might fall off the roof.

“That- poor- man-” he gasped between breaths as the Galran patted his back comfortingly, a confused expression in place.

“You know how many- people- he's probably given that speech?”

Confusion still dominated Keith’s features as he tilted his head with a “speech?”

If possible, Lance laughed harder. It was as if everything was catching up to him and all he could do to survive everything was laugh and pretend his problems didn’t actually exist. It wasn’t even that funny, but well it’s as he said, he was tired. 

“Shiro asked me to try to get you on the right path ‘cause you have a good heart”

Keith squawked in outrage. “Wha- He said what?! That man is going to get me discovered!”

Breathless, grinning from ear to ear as Keith began to ramble about how he was “going to get caught” and wanted to “strangle Shiro with that stupid white hair of his” (which made no logistical sense in Lance’s mind), Lance took a step back from all the magic and thought for a moment about the teenager across from him, outside of all the drama.

He couldn’t help but feel immense satisfaction that Keith was a spy, not only did it confirm that he, Lance McClain, was right and everyone else was wrong but it also meant the Galran was a good guy.

Obviously this was a “yay for the rebellion moment” but to Lance it was more. It brought him undeniable joy that the person he loved was on his side, that loving Keith was only scary now because of rejection and not “oh no, he might kill me”.

To be honest, he didn’t know if this was better or worse. Because now, now nothing was stopping him from waxing poetry about Keith’s eyes, nothing could crush that spark of hope that invaded his heart when the Galran didn’t move away from his embrace or didn’t seem annoyed by his presence. 

And Keith was doing no better. His greatest secret had just been revealed, partially by his own will, and he wasn’t scared. He should’ve been, but he just wanted and now he had lost his excuse of avoiding Lance because he’ll never know the truth. Sure it had been a weak excuse but he liked having it. 

But now there was nothing in their way. 

After the laughter subsided and they fell into silence, sitting close with their bodies pressed against each other, both shivering but unwilling to move and lose whatever this was, Lance began to wonder how Keith had never told anyone so he asked. 

The Galran seemed slightly ashamed, regret in his eyes. “I guess I wanted to but I was always worried that nobody was who they said they were or that I was always being watched. And then when I found out that Shiro was the Black Paladin I thought, ‘this is your chance to tell him’ and then I just didn’t.” He shrugged towards the end, the movement causing light friction on Lance’s arm. 

The Cuban decided to steer the conversation away from this sensitive topic, instead seeking to satisfy his curiosity.“I know you said it doesn’t really mean anything, but the Calm, is it all that different than the Chaos apart from our powers and like a way lamer name? Seriously though ‘the Calm’ sounds dumb this is unfair.”

Rolling his eyes Keith muttered “it doesn’t sound dumb, you sound dumb,” before he brought his hand to his face to consider his answer. “Well, I don’t know exactly, there’s been evidence for all answers. But from what I’ve observed from you, you’re… I wouldn’t say calculating or anything like that I think you can be a bit irrational and do reckless things but you’re smart. When you need to, you can calm down.”

Lance sniggered toward the end, if only to cover up his blushing at Keith’s words. They lapsed into silence once again, looking at the sky for a few minutes in silence, but now awkward silence. It was just peaceful. 

“Hey Keith.”

“Yeah?” 

Lance begin to pick at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Would you have told me if I hadn’t seen? Ever?”

At first shocked at the question, Keith leaned backward in surprise before looking away embarrassed. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it.” 

And that was enough. Despite the cold, warmth flooded his body, a feeling of fondness and sort of pride at being considered. He felt a smile slip into place, not a grin but a smile that probably exposed way too much and made him way too vulnerable. But it was ok, because Keith smiled back. 

And that night, as they sat together on the roof looking at the stars, as they laughed and bickered and shoved, Keith entertained the possibility that he had ended up on a circle that always led him to Lance. 

Chapter Text

Pidge had no idea what could have possibly happened, what spell could have possibly passed over the minds of all the previously reasonable people, but suddenly everything in their life was very different. But only one thing had actually changed, transformed, evolved, one thing that affected everything else . 

Lance and Keith had become inseparable. 

Pidge deemed their behavior highly irrational, couldn’t quite figure out what had happened that led to such a drastic change in their relationship. According to their calculations, based upon the way they had been previously behaving, Keith and Lance were due to bicker for years before becoming attached at the hip, not weeks . And these calculations accounted for the blue eyed teenager’s complete infatuation (Pidge did not like to acknowledge that Lance called himself in love at that time because they were being petty). But all of a sudden, overnight it had changed. No longer could people claim it was just the Cuban following the other around and annoying him. It was undeniable that Keith and Lance were friends, extremely close friends at that considering they walked side by side, ate their meals together, bickered as if they’ve been married for years, emerged from their rooms together in the morning and ended the day by entering that same room. Together. 

The Green Paladin constantly attempted to pull Lance aside for one on one time but Keith was always there, so they never had any opportunity to a) ask him what the fuck and b) warn him that Keith was dangerous (to which he would most certainly reply “so I’ve fucking heard but he has a toy hippo”).

Lance often pushed Hunk and Pidge to join them, but the latter was worried for a few reasons. Pidge’s main concern was that Keith was deceiving them all and that if Hunk too fell for his tricks there would be no one but them to pull the entire gang out of this funk . But both Paladins missed their friend and undeniably wanted to understand what it was about Keith that had Lance wrapped around his finger. 

Hunk took the plunge first, eating take out and watching movies with the two in their room. He claimed to have been coerced by beautiful smells in a time of both hunger and exhaustion. When Pidge had persisted in their investigation of every small detail, Hunk had refused to do anything but merely shrug and and comment, “It was actually a lot of fun.”

The Green Paladin’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean? How could that be fun?” 

Another shrug. “I mean what I said. Keith’s not a bad dude and he and Lance seem to be really close. It’s kinda cute to be honest.” 

“Cute?! You realize that as the new Yellow Paladin Keith wouldn’t hesitate to kill you right?” Pidge was nearly irate, distressed that their friend had fallen for the trap as well. Was no one sane anymore? 

“Oh really...” Hunk’s voice was uncharacteristically challenging. “You and I both know that Keith knows his secret, his biggest secret, and yet Lance is fine.”

“Only because Keith is waiting.”

The Yellow Paladin shook his head. “I think you’re wrong Pidge, I think for once your assessment is wrong. If you can’t trust Keith then trust Lance, I have a feeling if you allowed yourself you could really like Keith too.”

Now Pidge was going to ignore it and hope Keith faded to black once Lance came to his senses and stopped thinking about his “beautiful eyes” or “stupid, shouldn’t be attractive mullet” but the teenager was taking too long so it was up to the more logical one to run interference. Of fucking course. 

Their plan? Infiltrate the group, make some observations, assess the situation and you know other bullshit like that. Then they would initiate stage 2 which was currently not a fully formed plan but instead just the general idea of discovering Keith’s nefarious intentions and exposing him. 

Surprisingly, the plan did not work.

For the first time basically ever, one of Pidge’s schemes or missions had failed. 

The Green Paladin did manage to “infiltrate” the “group” but Keith had been far sneakier than they had prepared for. 

Why? Why had Pidge’s plan failed? 

Because they hadn’t accounted for one thing. 

They hadn’t truly considered what Hunk had said about Pidge liking Keith, hadn’t taken it seriously, hadn’t planned for anything in regard to it. 

This crucial mistake was Pidge’s downfall. 

Hunk was right, because by the end of their “operation” Lance still loved Keith and Pidge had made a friend . 

Goddamn it, they were always weak for a fellow fan of conspiracies. 

Lance was excited, elated even. After that fateful night on the rooftop he finally had someone who could relate to him, who understood him in ways he didn’t think possible. And that someone just happened to be someone he was very attracted to (and somewhat in love with) and with whom he was highly compatible even with the bickering. 

He had always desperately wanted Keith to acknowledge him and now he had his full attention, they were finally friends. To some degree Lance would admit he was addicted to Keith, whenever he was alone he was the first one he thought of. Before bed, who did Lance dream of? Keith. 

The Cuban didn’t want to get hope of his feelings being reciprocated, that would only end in disappointment and pain, but with the amount of time they had been spending together it had been hard not to. Things like falling asleep on each other on the couch and their nicknames made it quite difficult to avoid hope. But every time he indulged this hope, listened to that small voice in the back of his mind that told him Keith liked him too, he immediately sobered, remembering that there’s no way Keith would ever. Things like that just didn’t happen to him. He knew he was falling too quickly to stop, but he also knew Keith would never fall with him. Lance was playing a dangerous game and no matter how it ended he would wind up hurt, but the Cuban couldn’t help seeking out the Galran at every turn. 

He, Keith, Adam and Shiro had become a fairly tight knit group of friends, the Black Paladin and the high ranking Voltron Coalition officer both appreciating Lance’s own rebellious intentions. They were under the impression that the Cuban was working to help make Keith “see the truth of the Empire and himself”.

Keith thought this was very funny. 

Now that Lance knew, the Galran liked to amp it up with various antics to piss off Adam and Shiro. 

Some story of the horrors of Voltron would come out and Keith would wave the newspapers around in terror claiming that the Black Paladin was “after him” and he was “in great danger” in the most exaggerated tone possible. This would lead to Lance being asked to please try to convince the Galran of Voltron’s good intentions, something that grew quite annoying after the fiftieth time, no matter the different phrasing. 

Of course when he complained to Keith about it that only gave the other further incentive to do it. 

Before everything had happened, Lance had assumed Keith had no sense of humor, but the violet eyed teenager was endlessly amusing. He was one of few who could keep up with Lance, even if he complained about it, and always had a witty retort on his tongue. Various unexpected antics and teasing often left the Cuban on the floor rolling or trying to pretend he was annoyed. 

It was his ever increasing fondness for the Galran teenager that made Lance so desperate to prove to his friends that they all could be friends. 

In his mind the ideal would be essentially a power group. His old friends, the Green and Yellow Paladins, with the power couple, Shiro and Adam, maybe even Allura and Coran and of course the Chaos and the Calm. Now that , that would be a group. 

The first step to this was the addition of his earliest friends to the newly formed gang. 

Hunk gave in rather quickly, capitulating and agreeing to spend an evening together after only a week. 

The night had gone very well, so well in fact that Hunk and Keith seemed to already have taken a liking to one another, something that when asked about Keith would reply, “I mean I like him better than you that’s for sure” (Lance pouted heavily at this). Regardless, when Hunk came around while the Cuban was showering, he would emerge from the bathroom to find the two laughing over drinks at their counter talking about some book or teacher. The very sight made Lance’s heart warm. 

Pidge was a harder deal, it took weeks for them to finally agree to, as they put it, “slum it with a bunch of jackass losers.”

And they would not give Keith a break. 

But the Galran, despite being antisocial, was not timid and refused to back down like ever, which was a recipe for disaster with Pidge. 

However, Lance was becoming increasingly suspicious of Keith’s intentions as it was beginning to seem like the Galran didn’t wish to befriend the suspicious Paladin but instead piss then off. This became readily apparent when an argument sprung up between them and Keith’s position was… odd, to say the least. 

“Dinosaurs never existed,” Keith maintained fiercely, looking as if any contradiction would cause him to burst into flames and subsequently burn the pillow he sat cross legged upon. “They are a myth that the rebellious folk hold onto.”

Pidge seemed both angry and utterly mystified, looking at Lance as if to ask “ what the fuck is this guy deranged?” but the Cuban’s eyes were narrowed towards his companion. His suspicions were confirmed when Pidge brought out their phone to bring up images of fossils and Keith had to smother a laugh with a giant gulp of his drink. 

“Look at this!” Pidge gestured wildly at their phone, their face a picture of disbelief when Keith scoffed condescendingly at the image of fossils. 

“Faked,” he dismissed rudely causing Lance to rest his head in his hands in exasperation. One job. All Keith had to do was play nice and appease Pidge and what is he doing? Pretending that he doesn’t believe in dinosaurs. “Just think about it. The rebels want to believe that dinosaurs exist to spark their cause.”

“Wha- faked? How can it be faked? Why would the rebels want to-? I don’t understand.” Their eyebrows were furrowed in obvious confusion as they struggled to express their frustration in a moment of intense distress. 

Lance had never seen Pidge so distraught, they were flustered like they had never been before, scratching their head more than ever and they could barely articulate their ideas. If he wasn’t so desperate to unite his friends then he too would have been wildly entertained. 

“I don’t know how else to spell it out for you.”

More crazed gestures followed this statement. “Spell what out for me? I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“First of all, we’re talking about dinosaurs, keep up.” Keith rolled his eyes as if annoyed by Pidge’s stupidity. “Second of all, can you please not cuss, it’s unnecessary.”

That was fucking laughable. Lance had thought Pidge was the worst cusser but Keith blew her out of the water with his language. While the genius incorporated cuss words into their language liberally they generally preferred to stick to the standard use of them, a “fucking” here or there. But the Galran favored rapid fire cussing and the addition of unnecessary profanity to simple words and phrases often resulting in creative sentences such as Lance’s personal favorite: “fucking shitass little bitchass fuck”. 

But back to the argument at hand, the argument which had escalated with Pidge’s frustration. 

“I can’t believe you just said that, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. God help us all.”

“So now we’re dragging religion into this?!”

Pidge’s face was so red with anger it could have been a brightly colored cherry ready to pop. “Its a fucking expression!” they seethed. 

Keith pointed angrily at her cussing, looking to Lance as if asking for support but the Green Paladin could not handle it any longer, had nearly pulled out all the easily accessible hair.

“You’re insane,” Pidge concluded, abandoning any hopes of addressing Keith’s theory that the existence of dinosaurs had any affect on participation in the rebellion. 

The Galran sneered uglily. “I’m not insane for knowing the truth. You know they called Copernicus insane too and look.” He raised his eyebrows, tilted his eyebrows and leaned forward in an implied got you there. 

Now Lance couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that. There was nothing more ridiculous than the idea that Copernicus and his mathematical endeavors regarding the heliocentric universe were equivalent to Keith and his “dinosaurs are created by rebels” claim, especially when he happened to be a rebel. 

His stomach began to hurt as his eyes watered, his laughter only furthered when Keith began to break as well, his mouth contorting as he attempted to keep it straight. 

Pidge looked back and forth between the two. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” they asked Keith who shrugged with clear amusement. Lance waited for them to stand up in annoyance and walk away, officially ruining his plans, but they didn’t. 

“Impressive.”

Huh?

“Exactly!” Pidge exclaimed in excitement. “That’s what I tell Lance everytime.”

Keith nodded in approval. “Well, we all know when it comes to movies, he doesn’t have the best taste.” 

Ever since Pidge’s approval of Keith’s all too frequent trolling, the two had been very chummy. Apparently Keith had proven himself more than a brainwashed idiot, and the Green Paladin had reluctantly started defrosting towards him. It only took some knowledge of conspiracy theories and the discovery of their shared favorite pastime -bullying Lance- to make conversation between the trio light and energetic. 

“Guys, can we not target me for liking the Star Wars prequels?” Lance sighed, regretting his decision to introduce these two. 

“No, no we cannot.” Pidge admonished. Meanwhile, Keith shook his head, eyes bright over the mug held to his lips. 

Lance decided enough was enough. “Well Keith here has never seen Star Trek so…” 

Attention diverted away from him, Lance sat back, weight supported by his arms, smirking as Keith said “I’m sorry?” in response to Pidge’s glare. 

“You should be-“ 

The Cuban began to remove himself from the conversation, choosing to observe quietly as the Green Paladin explained just why Keith needed to see it, citing Kirk, Picard, Spock and various details in an unnecessarily long persuasive essay. 

With finality Pidge declared, “We will watch it together immediately.” They stared at both Keith and Lance, challenging them to protest but the Galran just chuckled and Lance grinned. He had won the battle, Pidge had fallen for Keith too (in the friend version of the word- shut up Keith, it might have been confusing to some people). 

Yes success, Lance thought to himself, looking at the two with great satisfaction. The group is beginning to form. 

The Galran raised his eyebrows at Lance who cocked his head to the side to ask What? Is there something on my face? 

But Keith just shook his head as if lost in his own thoughts, eyebrows still scrunched in light confusion. Lance watched as the other teenager casually scanned Pidge’s face, as if looking for something written there. 

“So I think that went great!” Lance walked or nearly skipped happily across the street while Keith followed, rolling his eyes with amusement. He hummed in agreement when the Cuban stopped to make sure Keith felt the same way. “They really warmed up to you, even after that stunt you pulled.” Lance fixed Keith with an annoyed glare before slipping once again into his excited state. 

They turned into the little grocery store that all the students used, Lance battling with a cart that refused to separate from its counterparts as Keith laughed at him in the background. The Galran felt a distinct fondness spread through his body at his friend’s grumbling. Once they finally entered, the cart was pushed into the very limited produce section. 

“I’m so glad we’re friends, Keith. Everyone gives you discounts!” He threw the overpriced raspberries into their cart, ignoring Keith’s “that all I’m good for?”

He rolled his eyes as Lance examined the watermelons, holding them up to his ear as if he could tell which one was better by their sound (you can Keith, you can). 

Finally they moved on, only to halt once more when Lance held up three small bananas, causing both to wrinkle their noses slightly in mutual distaste for the yellow fruit. “And we’ll get some nutella for this later because toast with nutella and bananas are the only way these pieces of potassi-shit are actually acceptable.”

Keith snorted derisively. “It’s potassium, dumbass, and I think you mean peanut butter.”

Lance shook his head vemenously, “No I don’t because I’m not a heathen.”

This had been the third time they had had this argument. 

The first time, Keith had been minding his business eating breakfast when the Cuban had stomped into the room, seen the peanut butter banana toast and promptly threw it on the floor in a fit of irrational anger. The Galran had been so astounded at the stupidity and dramatics of his new friend that he had been speechless for nearly five minutes, staring at his toast on the floor. 

This had sparked an argument for the ages. 

The second instance, Keith had been minding his business getting ready for class when he had seen the Cuban sitting on the raised stool at the counter eating a piece of nutella and banana toast. Out of obligation, the Galran had walked over and slapped it out of his hand. 

This had also sparked an argument for the ages. 

But this time went differently. 

Halfway through their spat, which was mostly them making the same points but with “as I said before” added to the beginning, someone behind them cleared their voice loudly, interrupting their lively debate so that they paused, both with their hands in the air and clearly in the middle of rude gestures. 

The someone had brown hair, a rude sneer and other clearly… good looking... features. 

Great, just what Keith needed, his fucking ex. 

“Hello James,” Keith greeted iciliy, attempting to convey his distaste not for the teenager himself but for the conversation that was inevitably going to be awkward. 

“Keith.”

From his side Lance squawked, muttering under his breath something about him being “chopped liver” and “pretty boy loser ex”. Keith struggled not to laugh, but his struggle was not unnoticed by the blue eyed teenager who preened proudly upon recognizing the tugging corners of his mouth. 

Unfortunately, James has noticed this as well, taking a moment to very obviously look between them before huffing and crossing his arms, leaning backward as he scoffed, “My, my Emperor you seem to have a type.”

His words brought a scowl to both Keith and Lance’s face (Keith didn’t know it at the time but the Cuban’s body was coursing with jealousy that he attempted to justify by claiming it was 90% the “Emperor” slur that wasn’t really a slur, don’t even try to deny it Lance).

Keith forced the scowl off his face and attempted an emotionless expression, which he probably failed at, and with what he hoped was an indifferent tone said, “I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

Lance piped in, “yeah man, I’m like way hotter than you.”

Now it was James’ turn to scowl, Lance’s comment providing Keith entertainment in its own nature and the response it evoked. He wasn’t ever going to tell the Cuban that he fully agreed. 

But James regained himself quickly, “Keith you’ve managed to fall for the two fuckboys of the campus-“

In the background Lance protested, “hey I am a gentleman!” but James drove on with his little speech. 

“-something that’s bound to get you in trouble some day,” James finished, smirking as Lance fumed in the background. 

“I thought the whole problem was I couldn’t “fall for you,’” Keith replied rudely, unable to stop himself (he’d always been a bit rash). 

Behind him, Lance gasped with a low “ouch” as James face grew red with anger, walking quickly towards Keith and thrusting his hand into his shirt. “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

Keith pushed him away, hissing, “don’t start a fight you can’t finish.”

Before James could approach once again, the Cuban took a step in front of the Galran, calm but threatening (not hot, not hot, not hot). “Just leave us alone.”

James sneered angrily, marring his normally good looking features (yes, yes that hold nothing against yours, happy now?). “I hope you know that whatever you two are doing, he’ll never love you, can never love anyone except his precious empire and Shiro.”

If only James knew how wrong he was. 

Lance blinked shocked, but Keith couldn’t understand why considering the Cuban knew where his true loyalties lay. But before anyone but the Galran could catch on the shock disappeared and his eyes hardened. “Just because he didn’t love you doesn’t mean he loves no one.”

The fierce tone nearly overwhelmed poor Keith who so desperately wanted to grab Lance and just… well he didn’t know! He hadn’t gotten to that part yet!

James just shook his head as if they were both fools and with his parting words he turned to leave. “Oh Keith, he’s come to your defense so quickly. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes for you to fuck this up.”

Before they could get a word in edgewise, James was gone and Keith was staring at his retreating back. 

To some degree, he was sad. It’s not like he wanted James to think he was some evil jack hole not possible of any kind of love, it was just how it had to be. 

Now with Lance, it was different, he didn’t have to hide and although he was worried for his safety (how could he not be), Keith trusted him. He knew that the Cuban was powerful, one of the most powerful people in the world in fact. He was smart, had lasted this long in secrecy, and wasn't anywhere on the Galra’s radar so Keith didn’t have to constantly fear that having Lance as a friend was dangerous. 

Things were good which is why what James said was troubling. Just how long would this last before Keith fucked it up?

But that wasn’t his only problem, something was different. For Keith, magic was all about the feeling underneath his skin and flowing through his body and he had become acutely attuned to that feeling, having honed his powers for years. He could feel it in his bones, something about his powers, something to do with Lance was off . He didn’t quite know what, couldn’t put a name on it but he needed to figure it out. And soon. 

Nevermind. Everything he said about Lance before, all that bullshit about not feeling scared to be his friend? Well he took it all back. 

Keith was currently sitting on their shared couch, bouncing his leg up and down nervously as he waited anxiously for his roommate to return. When he heard someone fumbling with the lock, he made to stand up quickly, nearly launching the espresso he had downed that was only partially responsible for his jumpiness. 

He rushed towards Lance, pulling him through the door and locking it quickly as the Cuban stumbled to avoid falling, squawking and waving his arms in an effort to remain balanced. 

“Keith?!” 

“Lance get into my room, right now.”

The Cuban opened his mouth, probably to make some sort of innuendo, but Keith cut him off by grasping his arm and ushering him into his room, Lance willingly accompanying him despite his clear confusion. 

“You know, this is the first time I’ve been in your room.” 

Oh, Keith was very very aware of this fact. “This is the first time anybody’s been in my room for a very long time,” he admitted quietly, figuring there was not much else to for him to hide besides his feelings for the other. Lance twisted to look at Keith in surprise. 

“Shiro?”

“Nope.” 

“Then how do you-“

“I always go to their room.”

“Wh-“

The Cuban’s question died on his lips as he took in his surroundings. Keith felt a twinge of slight embarrassment as the blue eyes surveyed all his personal things, from the purple stuffed hippo that the other had already caught sight of- and teased him mercilessly about- a week ago, to the messy unmade bed, the comforter still tucked in but multiple blankets hanging off the edge. Lance wandered over to the wall which was decorated with various images and some of his art. 

For a moment the Galran just stood awkwardly as Lance stared at the one wall, or more specifically Keith’s works, mouth open ever so slightly. He faltered slightly at the largest one, and secretly Keith’s favorite, which was a pencil chinese dragon starting from the corner and looping around in the center. The dragon itself was very detailed and realistic, having taken hours to perfect. From the corner diagonal sprung a fountain of brightly colored cartoons which swirled until it intertwined with the dragon. Although the style seemed more simplistic, each caricature had been carefully executed with blues transitioning into greens or purples, and reds flowing into oranges and pinks. They were outlined with black lines, some thick and some thin.

“Keith, these are insane.” Lance’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, staring at Keith who couldn’t comprehend the emotions in his eyes. 

He felt himself shrug, “they’re my life’s work.” 

“Do you want to do something with this?” The Cuban winced quietly at Keith’s rueful expression that reminded them both of the Empire. “Or would you if you could?” he amended. 

“Yeah, definitely.” He hesitated, having never told anyone his true ambitions because of, well, the whole ‘I’m gonna be Emperor thing’. “I’m thinking tattoos.” He knew his voice sounded shy, but he didn’t publicly advertise his love for art, and no one had seen his works before. 

“I would… so get a tattoo from you,” Lance gushed, moving on to praise the other drawings, his eyes bright, voice warm. A warm and giddy feeling flushed throughout Keith’s body, leaving him speechless. 

Then he moved onto the photos, commenting small things like “Dios mío, young Shiro was cute“, “Mini Keith is making me feel things my lord”, and “Oh my I can feel the sexual tension here” in reference to an older picture of Shiro and Adam. 

Finally he reached the photo that Keith had printed quite recently, one of him and Lance in the coffee shop, Lance grinning into the camera as Keith laughed into his shoulder. He loved that photo because the Cuban’s eyes were so bright and so blue, because he looked so happy to be there with him despite the grumpiness (sure sure it’s because you knew it wasn’t actually grumpiness).

Wordlessly Lance stared at it before turning to the Galran, his face shocked and eyes brimming with that same foreign emotion, and turning back. 

Although Keith expected some sort of comment about it, Lance remained silent. Remembering the importance of his new information, the Galran sobered quickly. Keith sat down onto the bed, stretching his legs out as he leaned back on the pillows, motioning for the other to do the same. 

There was a pause before Lance shoved Keith over as he crawled into place next to him, the bed small enough that they were now pressed bodily against each other. 

The Galran felt his face flush, but was too distracted to entertain any thoughts about the intimate position, even when the other pulled the comforter around their legs so they were essentially in bed together. 

“What’s up, Keith?”

He circled his fingers around his wrist, twisting it nervously. “It’s about your family.”

Now Keith had been close with Lance long enough to know how much he loved his family, and had been so very close recently that he knew exact details about them. Where some of the Cuban’s friends knew vague pieces of extraneous information, and his emotional ties and homesickness were public knowledge, Keith knew more. 

After all he was the only one who knew of Lance’s powers and thus he was privy to other secrets relating to them (and not relating to them). 

But his awareness of Lance’s dedication and loyalty to his family, and intimate knowledge of the family’s secrets made this situation even more terrifying. 

“What about my family?” Keith could feel the teenagers’s body become tense against his own. 

“I’ve been informed that faction powers were detected by Quintessence users in a zone that have no known members. Your family’s zone.” 

Beside him there was an audible gasp but Lance remained silent beyond that. His eyes were brimming with fear and worry, and there was a pang of sympathy in Keith’s heart. 

One of the things Lance had revealed to him was that his parents were unidentified faction users, having hid their powers so that they could marry and have kids. Although giving birth to the “Chaos” was extremely rare, the Galran were so paranoid that it was prohibited for faction members of the matter and energy houses to intermix. But the Cuban had told him the story of them falling in love and deciding to hide their own powers, soulmates from the very beginning. 

Letting the blue eyed teenager have a moment, Keith turned away until he finally heard Lance’s voice, but it sounded very different, quieter, almost as if it was a thought echoing in his mind. “How could they?” 

“Maybe you should talk to them,” the Galran suggested. “This isn’t the end of the world, the holiday break is coming so I just need you to do a couple things for me that will help lead them off your track.”

He felt the body next to him shudder and begin to shake slightly, wrenching Keith’s heart, making him desperate to comfort Lance. What can I do? He thought. 

Almost as if responding to his thoughts, the Cuban leaned further into Keith, his vulnerability clear in both his posture and words. “Just stay with me right now.” And the Galran was helpless to do anything but what Lance asked for. 

“As long as you want, I’ll be here.”

A tan hand reached for Keith’s wrist, tentative as if asking for permission. When he didn’t withdraw his hand, Lance’s long fingers intertwined with his own thin pale ones and they both stared at them for a brief moment. “Don’t worry, Sharpshooter. I’ve been fucking with these assholes for years now, it’ll be easy for me to tell u how to keep your family hidden.” He attempted a smile but it fell flat. 

Ever so quietly Lance whispered, “Come with me.”

Keith’s nose wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Come home with me for the holidays.” He said the words as if what he was suggesting wasn’t earth shattering, completely oblivious to Keith’s beating heart. 

“Lance- I can’t.” His protest sounded weak even to his own ears. 

But Lance persisted, voice desperate. “You’re just going to be here anyway, right?”

“Well yes, but your family would never-“

“Then shapeshift .”

The suggestion, although seemingly small or obvious, was a jarring one considering Lance had never asked for Keith’s help through powers. It left the Galran spiraling, unsure what to do next but sure of the Cuban’s desires, his fears. 

“I-“

“Please. I’m begging you, I need your help. I need you.”

And once again, Keith was powerless to do anything but nod as the one he loved said those words that sparked something deep within him, and which he wouldn’t mind hearing in a different context. Then something came to mind, an opportunity. “Lance, while we’re there, you and I need to take a day trip.”

In response came a questioning glance accompanied with a small shrug and a “sure?”

He would tell Lance why later. 

They sat together on Keith’s bed for a while, him and Lance, the first person he had ever let sit there, the first person he had ever told his secret, the first person that had ever gotten this close.

Their hands didn’t separate yet neither said a word. 

“Keith?” His name was spoken so silently that he nearly missed it. 

Then again, in that same small and echoing voice, Keith heard “ I’m scared .”

The Galran struggled with words, didn’t know how to tell Lance it wasn’t bad to be afraid, that it was okay and that he would die before letting something happen to him or his family. 

Instead he squeezed the other teenager’s hand, feeling a similar squeeze respond. 

“You and your family are safe as long as I’m here,” Keith promised, a promise that he could never guarantee but would work endlessly to keep. 

“An empty promise,” Lance whispered. 

“Not when it comes from me.”

Chapter Text

“So what’s the plan, Samurai?” Lance asked, breathless from trying to shove all their luggage into one bag which they had decided was the most efficient way to go considering Keith had like three shirts in total. However, the other teenager was too distracted to respond, eyes narrowed at his phone in deep concentration.  “Bro? My hotheaded companion? My magical counterpart? Keith!”

The Galran jerked suddenly, torn out of his stupor abruptly. “Sorry, what?” 

“Man you’re really out of it today, what’s going on?”

“I’m just distracted” he dismissed quickly, changing the topic nearly immediately and putting his phone into his back pocket. “But anyway, this is what’s gonna happen.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith’s response, but accepted it in favor of focusing on the plan he was presenting. “I’ll go forward on my bike, you take the car. I need to stop somewhere before I can go to your home, so you can arrive first and I’ll just meet you there.”

“Where are you going?” 

Keith shook his head dismissively. “I just need to investigate something.”

“Investigate what? ” Lance pressed, unwilling to let Keith continue his patterns of hiding secrets. The Galran narrowed his eyes at the Cuban, not angrily but rather as if considering something.

“Lance, have you felt the same recently.”

For a minute, blind panic struck his heart, panic that Keith knew how the Cuban felt for him, how strongly he pined for him constantly. 

Was he too obvious? It was true that the teenager was wildly observant so who’s to say he didn’t notice Lance’s fondness that he fought so hard to control. Maybe he heard the rapid beating of his heart anytime they got in close proximity or anytime Keith said sharpshooter or just anytime the boy looked at him in general. 

A smaller and less influential voice in the back of his head suggested that maybe Keith felt the same and was wondering if Lance did, but the Cuban shoved this voice down, unwilling to feel his heart sink when it was anything different. 

“In what way…” he replied cautiously. 

“Like your magic.”

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, refusing to acknowledge his mild disappointment. “What do you mean?”

Violet eyes searched his own incessantly, putting Lance on the spotlight and trapping him in his gaze, the yearning he constantly felt around the other boy rising to new heights as he tried to rack his brain for what exactly the Galran had asked. “Think about it, think about how your magic feels.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Blue eyes shut, face still a picture of confusion but slowing smoothing out as he tapped into his magic. 

Magic had always felt like an ocean, the lapping of water throughout his body when he was at peace, the crash of waves when he was fighting, the swirling of the tumultuous depths when he searched deeper within himself. But Keith was right , he had been so distracted by the Galran and their recent adventures that he hadn’t noticed this distinction, too involved in his overwhelming feelings to realize that where there was once water, something new was encroaching. It was slight, very slight, but it felt as if very deep within him there was a fire burning, a small candle hidden underwater, as if suppressed by this feeling of the ocean. It was subtle, hard to recognize but now that he had identified it, it wasn’t hard to detect the slight edge in his magic. 

What was this?

“It feels different, right?” His expression was determined, as if Lance’s face had confirmed his suspicions. 

The Cuban nodded. “It feels like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words to describe the feeling. 

“It feels like your magic is red paint, spreading within you, but someone’s dropped a dot of blue.” Keith murmured quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. 

“It’s as if your body is the ocean but there's a match burning within you.” The Cuban whispered. 

The two looked at one another in silence, both minds racing, searching for answers that weren’t there. 

Now that he felt it, the feeling was impossible to ignore, but it didn’t feel as if the fire was spreading, it was simply there. 

“Anyway,” Keith began, shaking them both out of their thoughts. “I’m going to try to figure out what’s happening.” 

“And where could you be going to do that .”

“My home, of course.”

“Your home? Like your Galran home?” He probed slowly, persevering despite Keith’s annoyed glare. “I don’t know how to tell you, but I think you might need to look somewhere else for information, your place might be mildly biased.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Oh shut the fuck up, you think I’m dumb?” 

“Well…” 

“Not my Galran home, dumbass.”

Lance wondered if Keith was just oblivious to the fact that what he was suggesting was straight out of a television series. “Then what the hell are you talking about.”

“I've got this place, somewhere I used to go for shelter and to train, it’s got everything I’ve ever collected on, well, us.”

“You have a safe house?!” The Cuban exclaimed excitedly. 

“Um, I guess if that’s what you want to call it.”

“What else would you call it?”

Keith shrugged, “The place I put stuff?”

Facepalming, Lance shook his head with disappointment. “So you’ll just meet me at my house, contact me before just ringing the door because like I don’t know if you don’t want me by your side when you meet my family, they’re kind of… a lot, and they are really nosy and touchy and I don’t know if you can handle it Keith. Can you handle it? Do you have the guts, the ability to handle it?”

“Lance-”

“Do you Keith? Do you?”

“Lance-“

“I don’t think you do!”

He was ripped out of his hysterics by a sharp jab to his arm, causing him to both snap his mouth shut and bring his arm up to run his arm, a wounded expression in place. “Why? Why Keith?”

“You wouldn’t shut up!” Keith defended, clearly holding back amusement. “And we’re gonna be fine. But we do have an issue: who do I shapeshift as?” 

Lance paused to think. On one hand, he would like nothing more than to introduce his Keith, the real Keith, but he knew this was an impossibility. He could have him come as Pidge or Hunk, his family had never met them. Because of Lance’s powers it was dangerous to spread information about his parents who lived heavily “off the grid” on account of their magic and forbidden love. None of his friends had ever come over to his house, despite his own adventures to theirs, and until only recently he had never offered an explanation for this to anyone. 

But coming as Pidge and Hunk was riskier, especially considering their relations with Voltron. 

He could shapeshift into someone random, and this was beginning to seem like the best option, but then a thought struck him. 

There was one period where his parents had come to him, long before he had moved in with Keith. And they had walked in upon Lance and one person. 

“Kinkade!” The Cuban exclaimed loudly.

Keith paused, staring at him in disbelief and mild shock, his mouth hanging open for a few seconds before snapping shut. “You want me to come as Kinkade? I’m nothing like him!”

“What do you mean? You guys are like two peas in a pod, both quiet and um…” Lance struggled to finish the second part of his sentence, racking his brain for other ways to relate the two. 

“Oh yeah! My bad, we’re practically twins.”

“Cmon I’ll just tell my family he’s changed a lot and at least they won’t be expecting someone extroverted like Hunk.” Lance hoped Keith wouldn’t remember that they technically didn’t know if he was extroverted or not. 

Keith shivered. 

“Plus Kinkade and I were never very touchy feely when together, in fact we barely touched at all in public.” 

“What? But you love touching and shit. Don’t give me that look not like that.” 

Lance shrugged, “Yeah but he didn’t.”

There was a light hum of acknowledgement, a soft and low sound that tugged at Lance’s heart until he was wondering just how deep he had to be when any little thing Keith did pulled him further. 

But what the Galran had noticed was completely correct, Kinkade hadn’t been a touchy person at all and while Keith didn’t seem like he would be either, to some degree it was different. 

In the back of his mind, Lance had a sneaking suspicion that if he ever got so lucky as to be with Keith then it would probably take some acclimating on the Galran’s part to the way Lance touched. 

However, Lance had concluded that Keith was not completely against touch, just unused to it, and he tended to prefer casual contact. It seemed to reassure him, their sides pressing against one another, an arm slung teasingly around his shoulder, a light shove to the side when Lance was being particularly annoying. 

Keith didn’t hate to be touched, he just preferred it to be more relaxed, something Lance was completely okay with. 

In the past, Lance had prided himself on his romantic nature, he loved doing all the traditional things like holding hands and opening doors and cuddling at basically all hours of the day. 

But as he grew up, just as his definition of love had evolved, he grew more and more concerned about his relationships. Because looking back on them now, it felt like young Lance had been trying far too hard to check off all the boxes that he believed were required in a relationships. 

It’s not like there was anything wrong with that, if people wanted that type of relationship then it was beautiful and adorable, but as life became more real to Lance, things like that just didn’t seem to matter. He wasn’t opposed to cuddling or holding hands, in fact he was very willing to do these things, especially with Keith, but at the end of the day he didn't want to do them just because he felt obligated. And he certainly didn’t want to do it every time, because sometimes just laughing and pushing and shoving could be just as fun.  

Now everyone expected Lance to be the opposite, to basically need cuddling, he had a reputation for being a touchy person, especially with his friends, and he hadn’t really been on a date recently so most people just assumed he hadn’t changed. 

But Lance McClain had evolved, his priorities had shifted and now, he didn’t quite care about being the quintessential couple, it didn’t matter if the other person in the relationship didn’t want to cuddle 24/7. 

At this point, all that mattered was that the other person was Keith. 

It felt unrealistic to imagine Keith and him cuddling on the beach quietly, the Galran was just too antsy, but it felt real to imagine fighting, wrestling, (kissing), in the water. It felt unrealistic to imagine spoon feeding cake to one another, but it felt real to imagine smashing it on one another (and licking it off). 

Lance may be a touchy person, but for Keith he’d move mountains, so taking the relationship slow would be an easy feat. 

Man, he was so whipped.

The place was exactly as he had left it, dusty yet clean, seemingly furnished yet abandoned. Keith coughed a little as he straightened the rug and dust particles flew into the air, the rug badly in need of a good hard shaking. He shrugged off his backpack and motorcycle jacket and threw them onto the couch, his bike parked outside.

Keith’s chosen location for his “safe house” was not extraordinarily well hidden, in fact he liked to think that he had been going for a “hidden in plain site” theme when he chose to set up camp in a suburban condo. Upon his grand purchase, Keith had promptly stabbed a “for sale” sign in the ground, to ward off suspicious neighbors who questioned why their neighbor was seemingly never around, and then whenever he could, he would appear, as a realtor or other random character, and go into the house. If someone called the sign, all it took was a simple shift, accompanied by a different voice, to inform them that unfortunately the place had already been bought. 

But it never was, and a simple look inside the dark house would confirm that.

He bent over to grab an old kettle from under the sink, rinsing it off with water before filling it up, placing it on the stove top to boil, then setting out the mug and grabbing a hot cocoa packet from his backpack (he liked to be prepared sue him). 

Finally, he went to the bedroom, smacking the sheets of the unused bed while covering his face, letting everything fly into the air before it cleared and he was able to completely push the bed aside and pull up the rug lying there. Hidden there was a small wooden panel, that when lifted revealed a high tech safe which he had stolen back in his more obviously rebellious days. The safe was activated by a hand print, but the print itself was not of a real, human hand. When Keith had encoded it he had shifted his hand into a gross distorted looking thing so both prints and shape would prevent anyone from ever accessing what was inside. 

The safe itself was shallow but fairly wide, organized into small compartments each with old books and journals and papers each in a little plastic bag. Keith began to pull each one out one by one, grabbing bags in both hands and bringing them out to the dinner table. By the time everything in the safe was empty, the kettle was whistling loudly in the background. 

Finally, Keith grabbed the rubber gloves from the drawer, slipping off his fingerless ones in favor of the smelly and sticky fabric. 

“Here goes nothing,” Keith whispered to himself, pulling on the glove and letting it go to hear that satisfying snap. 

The first book he took from a bag was some kind of children’s textbook and when he had found it had been a major source of information. He remembered the day well. 

Keith entered the small shop lined with worn bookshelves and nearly destroyed novels, his face not his own but instead an old and wrinkled woman’s. His limbs felt weird and different, he still wasn’t used to shape shifting, and his acting was most certainly terrible. 

It hadn’t been more than a year since Keith had gained powers, a year of being in the dark about what he was or how any of it was even possible. 

He had been traveling the world for the entire summer, searching endlessly for any evidence that would point him to the truth, but it had been a fruitless summer. 

The Galra has covered their tracks well, all evidence pointing towards the Shapeshifters being myths, and if Keith hadn’t currently been a wrinkly white woman rather than a young asian teenager, then he might’ve believed it himself- in fact he had not so long ago. 

The internet had proved useless, filled with nothing but useless pieces of fluff about the ancient legend of the Shapeshifters, a legend that always ended the same way and always had some form of commentary about evidence debunking their existence. Shapeshifters were essentially the Greek Gods, no one but mythology or Percy Jackson fans even cared. And no one, no one thought they were real. 

Really, once you knew, it wasn’t hard to see the fatal flaw in all these indoctrinated versions of the myths, the issue that became so readily apparent when faced with the obvious. 

Every version of the legend fit perfectly. 

If the shapeshifters had truly been a myth created over time and told to young children in the dark ages as the Galra proposed, then some of the versions should have been different, no legend existed without controversy about some minor details. But the more Keith had searched, the more he had found a scary consistency in everything he read. There was no room for error, no suggestion that something might have been different, no book out of place. Every piece of written evidence said essentially the same exact thing. 

That was their mistake, a mistake that truly didn’t matter unless you were looking for it, but it was a mistake that kept Keith convinced that he wasn’t going crazy. 

It had also led him to this shop, because on one website, on page 42 of his online search he had found a single website. Now the legend itself generally contained the theory of how shapeshifters came to exist, what they did and why. But the more specific tale of them was generally centered around a man in the dark ages, a criminal to be more exact. To this day, Keith doesn’t know how accurate this story was. 

The criminal had been in love with a beautiful gentlewoman who had turned him down to marry a lord and have two beautiful young lords, but before the criminal could take his revenge on her husband the man had passed away in battle, so he turned his sights to punishing the children. One day he robbed the King, but he had done it with the face and body of one of the young elemental lords who had then been found and accused of the robbery. 

Despite his denial, no one would believe the young lord and he was eventually thrown in prison to be executed, but at night the thief had come to taunt the poor boy and had told him that he would come next as his brother, who was a member of the royal court. The young lord was dismayed greatly. 

However, while he was in the cell he devised a crafty plan to expose the man, and begged the guard for help. Eventually the guard, who pitied the young boy gave in, and the plan was set in motion. 

Next time the thief came to steal he had come with the purpose of discovering the boy’s brother and sealing his fate as well, but he had not known what the brother looked like. Therefore, when he had passed the brother’s chambers he had come upon a man dressed divinely and regally and naturally assumed him to be the lord’s older brother. But the man had actually shifted into a known criminal, so when he had emerged, he had been immediately captured and arrested by the other guards. Eventually the man revealed his plot and his identity so the young man was released, victorious. 

This was the way it always went. 

But on this website, there was a curious difference. The difference had been very minute, but on this website the criminal charading as the brother had been reading a book. 

The website was so deep within the internet it was likely that this detail was hidden specifically for people searching the archives for information, and upon discovering the minute difference Keith had scoured the entire website. 

He looked through all the other links on that site, all the other stories, some about the Elementals and some about the Chaos, but none of these had any mistakes, all were meticulously flawless. 

Finally he came to the sources page, having nearly given up and dismissed the entire thing as some kind of mistake by the author. But then he had opened the sources page and been immediately astounded by the sheer number of websites listed. Among them had been books, other websites with information, most of them the same story every time. But one had stood apart because the link hadn’t connected to another story, but instead to a bookstore. 

And now, two days later he was standing inside of that very bookstore. 

Behind the counter was an old man who seemed relatively harmless, but Keith knew better, he could tell that the man tracked every one of his movements, despite his disguise. 

The crossword sitting on the desk was filled in with blue ink, but the man was holding a black pen. 

Keith scanned the walls of the shop, looking for anything that sparked his curiosity and he had nearly been looking for half an hour before the man had gotten up and asked if he could help. 

This was a clear sign that Keith had to leave, and so he did, having found nothing that day. 

When he came back, he was wearing a different face, one of a middle aged professor with glasses. 

This time, he had found it. 

There was a small book in the kids section, clearly worn out but in fairly good shape. The title read “The Reading Brother”.

Keith had nearly whooped out loud, practically bounding to the old man, struggling to remain in character. 

When he got there, the old man had given him a long and hard look before commenting, “I’ve never read this one before.”

It was a blatant lie because when Keith returned once again with a different face, an exact copy of the book had reappeared exactly where he had found it before. 

And that was that. 

Now the book itself has explained the ancient system of the Chaos and the Calm, the first evidence Keith had ever read that he wasn’t imagining things. 

It was very rudimentary and innocent having initially been a children’s book, but it had opened Keith’s eyes to new and fascinating information. It had opened his eyes to the knowledge that the entire world was wrong about what powers existed, what the Galra had done to get in power and who the Chaos actually was. Because now, there was another and possibilities were endless.

However, the book had served another purpose, it was packed full with ties to other evidence and Keith had spent the rest of that summer and whatever days he was available in school searching for more . 

And he had found it. 

But Keith couldn’t remember reading anything about the feeling of the power itself since none of the sources had been written by one of the two themselves. 

After flipping through the textbook and finding nothing, he had carefully placed it back in the bag and into the safe before moving on to the next document. 

For hours he pored over the information, searching and searching through journals and books and manuscripts until he stumbled upon a bag with a collection of letters some of which were very difficult to read because of damage. 

I question if the Chaos and the Calm’s powers are as ——— as they may seem. It is entirely possible that they could have the ability to —————ers even if it does seem impossible now. You must believe — to be crazy, but consider this: Quintessence compiles the universe, it —— us. What if it does for them as well? Furthermore, it is in our m—— so what if ——————? It’s just something that’s been on my mind but truly… what if?

Altogether the letter didn’t seem to be too helpful, but it was the first thing that hadn’t just repeated what he had already known and he remembered being very confused when he first read it. He began to read the reply which was much more coherent. 

I hardly think you’re crazy, though your mind might be a bit fantastical. What you suggest could be possible indeed, if you look at the pair’s magical ability as heightened then the idea that the two could ————te in this way is both a terrifying and fascinating- but entirely realistic- theory. I can’t even begin to address the other part, that could surely mean potential destruction for us all should they choose to be ——. 

Destruction? Keith’s mind raced but he couldn’t understand what the letters were suggesting, what could lead to this destruction. 

The letters continued. 

To indulge my crazy thoughts surely means you are crazy as well. I am glad I am in such good company. It is a thre——— idea indeed, but have some faith in those chosen by ——tiny. I would certainly prefer to believe that fate would give us some hope at least once in a while. You are right on — account of heightened magical ability, but Quintessence is more than magic, it is —— and soul as well. Perhaps it would be good of us to consider the ———ion necessary in that regard as well. Perhaps the idea is indeed impo——. After all, the Chaos and the Calm are simply ——le. 

The reply was short, and did nothing really to clear up Keith’s confusion. 

Agreed, but this is most likely for the best, once again I impress the danger that would occur should ——— ever take place. It could be the end of the world as we know it, it could mean fire and pain. 

There was only one other letter and it was even shorter than the previous one. 

It read:

Or it could be the Shapeshifter’s final hope. 

“Hola Mamá!” Lance greeted happily, warmth flooding his system as his mother’s embrace pulled him tight, a comforting feeling that he had missed so dearly. He felt pinpricks in the side of his eyes and he blinked rapidly to avoid crying. Finally she let him go and he hugged his brother and sister, poking fun at each one as they greeted him. 

Rachel was the youngest of the McClains, Marco was younger than Veronica and older than Lance but had taken a shorter course so he was out of school and in the workforce while she still had time. 

Immediately the house became loud with chattering as his two siblings clamored to ask Lance questions. 

“What’s the school like?”

“How’s your classes?”

“How were your friends?”

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

That last one had been the loudest, and unfortunately the one they decided to latch on to. 

Rachel began to speak excitedly. “Yeah only Mamá and Papá met him and let me just say their reviews were less than stell-” Her last word was cut off by his father’s hand which had been slapped over her house, far too late though. 

He knew it should have mattered more, but Lance wasn’t remotely interested in Kinkade any longer, Keith had taken up his entire view, so he was able to brush the comment off with a mild chuckle. 

“My boyfriend will be arriving tomorrow,” he answered to the squeals of all his siblings and most likely to the disappointment of his parents. 

Marco raised his voice above the rest to ask quite rudely, “How far out of your league is he?” 

Lance shoved him, “He’s not out of my league at all… but he does have a six pack.”

However, his hopeless mind shifted to thoughts of another beautiful and lean body and he found himself distracted by just how out of his league Keith was. At this point in Lance’s mind there was nobody really in his league. He barely realized he had spaced out until he noticed his entire family’s scrutinizing glares. 

Both siblings examined him mildly, watching in amusement, and he snapped out of his stupor when Rachel grinned widely. “You seem whipped,” she commented, voice teasing. 

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Lance punched his sixteen year old sister on the arm, lightly, but enough for her to wind up her own hand, prepared to start a fight, when his mother cut in. “Rachel, Marco, go start to set the table, now! Lance, follow me to the kitchen.”

Welp. 

The grumbled annoyance of Marco and Rachel was ignored. 

Once they were in the kitchen it was easy to fall into an easy pattern, him removing items from the shelf and measuring them so she could begin to cook. The familiar aroma began to rise and Lance couldn’t help but sigh happily. 

“So you tell me that you will be bringing that boy again,” his mother began but he could hear the concealed dislike hidden in her tone. 

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“It’s not that I do not like the boy but I question mijo if you like him.”

Right on the nail as always. If it had been Kinkade his mom would have been absolutely right, but Keith, the boy hiding in his skin? Lance liked him very much. Still, he felt bad lying to her about just who was coming to dinner and just who he truly liked. 

“Of course I do, I brought him here, didn't I? We’re still together, aren’t we?”

His mother shrugged, not looking at him but instead focusing on cutting the potatoes. “Last time, you two did not seem to have the connection of lovers or even friends.”

Last time, it wasn’t Keith. 

The Galran had been invading Lance’s mind for a while, far before Lance became his roommate or fell in love, haunting his waking and sleeping moments and causing a great divide between him and the real Kinkade. It had been part of the reason they broke up, apparently he had been a tad “obsessed” and Kinkade didn’t want to hear about “Keith’s evil nature and stupid hair” any longer. 

“He’s different now, Mamá. Please trust me on this, I love him.”

After the words came out, he felt ten times as bad. While it was true that he did love him, asking her to trust him felt dirty, his mouth had a mildly disgusted taste in it. 

His mother’s face was shocked, which was understandable because Lance had never once brought someone home and called it the L-word. “Love? Mijo, you’re in love?”

“I am. More than I have ever been.”

“I confess I did not see this coming,” his mother admitted apologetically. “If this is true then the family will be determined to understand and support you two.”

If. Even now his mom doubted, but otherwise her sentiment was appreciated. He questioned if they would react like this if it was Keith coming, if it was the Galran son standing at the door tomorrow in his own skin. For a minute he fantasized revealing everything to his family from his powers to Keith.

But as much as he hated lying to his mother, it was far safer for them to remain in the dark about his powers and if he brought Keith his family would be liable to attack him and accuse him of spying or using Lance. It would be impossible to explain the situation without revealing Keith’s powers.  

“Thanks Mamá.” She smiled kindly at him before motioning for him to get the oil from the table. 

“So how’d you fall in love?”

Lance sighed lightly, images of Keith once again invading his mind, images of him laughing and fighting and smiling. 

“I don’t remember how,” he recollected, a soft and probably dopey smile forming on his face. “But there was a moment where I just knew. ”

His mother nodded, her smile warm and fond. “I know that moment well.”

“It wasn’t anything big, I called him a nickname for a while, just something teasing and stuff, and one day he said one back, and it shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it was and…” Lance drifted off, not finishing his thought. 

All he could think about was Keith’s smile.

He had not told a single lie, it had been this exact moment that he had fallen in love. And he should have been happy talking about it, but it only reminded Lance of just how desperately he felt, reminded him of the constant need at the bottom of his stomach. 

It only reminded him that while he was in love with him, Keith never feel the same. 

“Mijo, you look sad,” his mother said questioningly, her hand moving to turn off the stove fire.

He floundered for a moment, trying to recover before his mom became suspicious. “I’m in love, mamá, why would I be sad?”

His mother’s smile was far too knowledgeable for his taste. “I am not doubting that you are in love, I can tell that you are. Being in love doesn’t mean you can’t be sad.”

And she turned back to the stove, restarting the fire and pouring oil onto the pan, graciously ignoring the sadness prickling in her son’s eyes.

Dinner was always a grand affair, the McClains being an energetic group with little worry of boundaries. This meant there were many conversations going at once, people constantly reaching across the table to grab more food or swat someone on the arm. 

“Shut up, Marco, you’re just angry I got the good genes!” Lance accused, demonstrating these genes by shoveling food into his mouth.

“Excuse me? And what does that mean?”

“It means I’m better looking, dumbass. Keep up.”

His father guffawed loudly in the background, deep in conversation with his sister who was scowling for a reason unknown to Lance. His mother, however, had just hit his elbow with the wooden spoon, “better genes should have better table manners. Don’t speak while food is in your mouth.”

“Wha-” He snapped his mouth shut immediately upon his mother’s glare. 

Marco laughed lightly before narrowing his eyes at Lance. “So a six pack?” 

“Ugh I don’t really wanna talk about this, guys,” Lance groaned. 

“You don’t want to talk about your ripped boyfriend… suspicious.”

“No, that’s not it,” Lance stammered. “Ugh whatever.” Man I wish Keith were here. “I just want you guys to make your own opinions about him.”

Everyone at the table fell silent, scrutinizing him with suspicious faces. The Cuban threw his hands up in annoyance and exasperation. “ What now ?”

“That wasn’t a very Lance statement,” Rachel commented to the nods of the entire family. 

Lance took a moment to just curse every past Lance for having gone on and on about every crush, every relationship, every fling for hours on end, because now it was biting him in the ass repeatedly. 

“This one’s different.”

His father turned to his food, not looking at Lance as he asked, “is he?”

“Yes,” Lance replied tersely. “Yes he is.”

His mother, who was currently glaring at his father, changed the subject as soon as she saw the rising tension in Lance’s shoulders, something he thanked her profusely for. 

And for the rest of the dinner the subject did not come up, but Lance could tell, everyone was eyeing him suspiciously, wondering why the Cuban was acting so differently. 

The minute dinner ended Lance cleared the table, washed the dishes and ran to his room to call Keith, who picked up immediately though it was clear he was using headphones. 

“Can I help you?” Keith called out, the sound of wind distorting his voice. 

“Get your ass over here quicker loser,” Lance demanded angrily. “I’m dying over here.”

There was an annoyed scoff from the other end of the line, but whatever he said had been drowned out by the sound of the wind and motorcycle. 

“What’s that dickwad?” 

Keith’s voice came over the other end, clearly yelling and angry. “I swear to god Lance, you’re gonna be so sorry when I arrive.”

Before Lance could ask what he meant, the other boy had hung up. 

So he now knew what Keith had meant, and he hated to admit it, but Lance was so very sorry when he arrived. 

Because standing in the doorway was Kinkade, but he looked nothing like he had before. 

This Kinkade had lost any semblance of a body, his stomach not fat but looking very unnaturally like a beer belly, and while Lance had no judgements against fat as long as it wasn’t on him because who gave him the right to regulate other people’s look (unless it was dangerously unhealthy in which case he disapproved), Kinkade’s stomach was not anatomically correct . He had also gained a long and messy beard which made him look far older than he had before. 

Keith- that motherfucker. 

“Who the fuck are you?” was all Lance managed to say, but it had caused everyone in the family to gasp shocked, as the man at the door smirked, eyes holding tons of amusement. 

“It’s me, Lance.” The voice was clearly attempting not to laugh. “Your boyfriend, Kinkade.”

“Yeah I can see that,” Lance struggled to say without sounding angry. He leaned forward to embrace the man, whispering in Keith’s ear “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Keith had the gall to laugh. 

Reluctantly, Lance swung open the door and revealed “Kinkade” to the family, Keith standing behind him waving. 

The look on the family’s face was comical. 

Now the McClain family was not a superficial family, no one really truly cared or judged in terms of looks. But Lance had a type, and the teenager at the door was most certainly not his type and everyone in the family knew it. 

Not only did he look much older but he was dressed terribly, the strange stomach stretching his shirt out and everyone in the family knew that this was not someone Lance would ever have dated in the first place. It’s not somebody he would have ever been attracted too, he didn’t look real, he looked like a cartoon. 

And Lance had never had a thing for beards, especially not disgusting ratty looking ones. 

This coupled with the fact that Lance had literally just told them the day before that Kinkade had a six pack, which he did thank you very much , made Keith’s appearance a little astounding. 

His parents look was hilarious, and had Lance not been angry as all hell, he might have been rolling on the floor. 

No one said anything. 

Finally his mother stepped forward, a warm yet uncertain smile in place. “Hello Ryan, welcome to the family.” It was clear she was trying so hard to avoid any awkwardness and Lance loved her for it. 

Keith smiled graciously, “Hello Mrs. McClain.”

He ignored Lance who continued to glare at him, but subtly. 

His father offered to take the bags, an offer which Keith denied but was forced to accept upon the older man’s insistence. 

“You look different,” his mother suggested. 

Lance scoffed, unable to stop himself. “I’ll say.”

He felt a sharp slap to his arm as his mom gave him a warning look, no sympathy for her pouting son. 

He is so dead, Lance thought to himself, his anger only exacerbated when Keith snickered by his side. 

“Now Ryan,” his father called from above. “I’ll show you my son’s room, come on up.”

Keith nodded, smiling to the other members of the family, who were still standing there quietly, before going upstairs. 

He was acting much more friendly than normal and Lance wondered if Keith found it easier to interact in a different body. 

The Cuban moved to follow him upstairs but his mother caught his arm and pulled him backwards. “You and I need to talk,” she said seriously before turning to the others and sending them off on various jobs. 

He followed his mother reluctantly through the kitchen, staring at Keith’s back with a suspicious amount of anger that most certainly didn’t go unnoticed by his mom.

“What Mamá?” He asked curiously, tired and not really wanting to lie anymore.

“Lance, mijo, what is wrong between you two?!”

Always straight to the fucking point.

“What do you mean?” He tried to feign a casual and innocent attitude but his mother’s disapproving frown made him immediately give up, his face slipping out of neutrality. “Fine, fine, we had a slight argument yesterday.”

She truly was a master of interrogation.

“About?”

Lance racked his mind for possibilities before finally settling on “his health?”

His mother stared pointedly as if instructing him to continue. 

“I mean mamá you’ve seen him, he’s clearly not healthy and I’m just worried.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgment conceding, “yes he doesn’t quite look the same.”

Lance laughed in his own mind, “I wasn’t expecting the change either.”

“And you are alright with this change?”

“Well, I love him and I want what’s best for him,” he lied through his teeth, feeling worse and worse by the second.

His mother just hummed lightly. 

“We’re heading out!” Lance called out, his foot already out the door and Kinkade’s body following him closely. 

“Your sister will be arriving later, mijo so please don’t go too far!” his mother replied, but what she had said completely slipped his mind as he took off walking down the street with Keith. 

Once they were far enough, Lance eagerly punched Keith, hard. “That’s for your stupid belly and your stupid beard!” 

The Galran doubled over laughing, breaking down in tears as Lance continued to rant behind him. “I can’t believe you would threaten our plan like this! My family knows, knows that I would never date someone who looks like an alcoholic, what the fuck Keith?! This isn’t funny! What say you in your defense?”

Keith shrugged, still laughing hard. “It’s hilarious? You should have seen your fucking face you looked so angry it was some furious fucking clownass looking shit.”

“This is not funny!”

“Yes it is.”

“Ugh!” Lance harrumphed, crossing his arms angrily and muttering furiously under his breath. 

When Keith finally regained his breath he managed to get a few words out, but they sounded strangled. “We need to completely discredit the Quintessence user who’s tracking your zone.”

Lance tilted his head questioningly, “what do you mean?”

Keith smirked, “Well, it's quite easy, you make the faction powers go insane… everywhere.”

The Cuban stopped in his tracks, pausing to raise a suspicious eyebrow in Keith’s direction. “I’m sorry… what?”

“Here’s the thing, the person working there? I already did some groundwork before we came here and I may or may not have checked out the person assigned to the zone. People have been doubting him for years, mostly because of a lack of work ethic.”

Lance snorted lightly. 

“Yeah, I know right. But anyway, he’s already in the doghouse right so all we have to do is just make him convey insane readings in the most unlikely of places.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Well that’s obvious- we fuck around with our powers in weirdass places.”

“Oh yeah, obvious, sure .”

“Really Keith, the middle of the forest?”

“I feel bad doing this to library books…”

“Nobody wants books, everyone likes cake.”

“The bathroom of a school?! This is just gross Keith. No- Don’t you dare- I get it you control water- don’t- ew this is so gross, please, I'm begging you.”

“Just a burst of Quintessence, it’s not that fucking hard, holy shit.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up? I just wanna make sure it’s small!”

“Literally everybody in this restaurant thinks we’re having sex right now.”

“Eh, it ain’t me they’re judging. I mean you look like that and I look like deformed.”

“Keith, are you saying you think I’m hot ?”

“Calm down hotshot, I’m just saying you’re better looking than this body. You know the one with the giant ass bird nest looking beard.”

“Why do you feel the need to bully me?”

“You make it too easy. I should lose the stomach and beard and walk out looking like real ripped Kinkade just to fuck with people.”

“Don’t even bring that shit up dickwad, I’m still angry you showed up like this- I told everyone you had a fucking six pack and you show up with a fucking beer belly. Mierda you live to hurt me.”

“Shut up and watch me set the paper towels on fire.”

“Do Quintessence users constantly watch everyone?”

“Well not really but kinda.”

“I love when you’re so straightforward.”

“I mean like they look occasionally and briefly and if they see something irregular they mark it. But it’s really only suburbs and rural areas since there’s no magical signature and it’d be difficult to mark an entire city.”

“It's getting really late, we should probably head back since we’ve covered like every place with like every type of magic so…”

“Thank fuck. I am not using magic ever again.”

“Sure, sure.”

Despite his various complaints during the day, Lance had thoroughly enjoyed his few hours wandering the town with Keith. It felt so natural to just talk to him, even when his eyes and voice weren’t his own, and watching him fuck around like a two year old just learning magic was hilarious especially considering the raw power and insane skill that was so clear in everything he did. 

But naturally, just when things were going kind of okay, everything, everything went to shit because his parents had failed to mention, though they claim it was meant to be a surprise, that one certain person who had previously been unavailable would now be attending. One person who might not be able to directly contradict the Kinkade thing but could most definitely poke some holes in his story. Holes involving Keith himself. 

That person was Veronica. 

The minute she opened the door, Lance’s heart had permanently stopped working and he had nearly choked on air after a sharp, involuntary inhale. 

He knew he should have been happy, the family was all together after so long, and truly he had missed them so much. But if he had known she was coming he would have gone about his plan much differently. He would have pretended the relationship was new, he wouldn’t have brought Kinkade, and he would have talked to her before about not mentioning Keith. 

But now he was in the dark, no clue what would happen next or how to deal with it. Now he was praying that she wouldn’t question Kinkade’s presence. 

The entire family launched into their usual ritual of hugs and greetings and annoying questions, while Lance and Keith exchanged worried glances in the background (Lance the most worried of them all). 

The family was so distracted that they didn’t notice the pair turn around and lean into one another to whisper in hushed and worried tones. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Yes, yes it can.”

“How?”

As Lance opened his mouth to explain just how royally screwed they were, his current problem leaned over their shoulders and asked “So what happened with that Keith boy?”

Well shit- right to the point. 

Lance turned around quickly, nearly jumping fifty feet in the process, and he took a moment to look at Keith incredulously because how the fuck didn’t he get jump scared.  

“I don’t get jumpscared,” the Galran responded directly  to this thought, apparently having an uncanny ability to read his facial expressions, eyeing Lance’s eldest sister with uncertainty while attempting to maintain his cover and pretend he was neutral about the subject at hand. 

But part of Lance knew that Keith had to be questioning just why Veronica would ask about Keith as if she was expecting him to have come instead.

He definitely lost like four years of his life in that one moment. 

Lance closed his eyes regretfully when Keith popped in with a “Keith?” Of course he wouldn’t just let it go, and while normally this was a useful trait, now it just increased suspicions in Veronica’s eyes. 

“You haven't met Keith? How long have you two been dating?”

Keith opened his mouth to respond but Lance cut in. 

“No, no, I’ll explain it later,” he said. “But please, please don’t mention this now, or here.”

Her eyes were narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed, as she flicked her attention from Keith to Lance, pursing her lips as she reluctantly obliged Lance’s request. 

“I promise, I’ll explain later.”

Despite Veronica’s pledge to avoid mentioning Keith in front of Keith or his family, she eyed them all throughout dinner, staring both of them down intensely, something that was very clearly getting on Keith’s nerves. 

This was especially terrible considering he was already grouchy from being forced into social interaction with so many nosy people at once. They had been dealing with questions all dinner long, half of them pointed questions from a suspicious Veronica, so much so that it seemed like every time they raised their fork to their lips they would have to put it down to say “We do not room together” or deflect Veronica’s “then who exactly do you room with Lance?” 

They had spun so many lies, and Lance was once again struck by how easy it was, despite that nagging guilt burying in his stomach. The two of them worked well together, building off of one another’s stories to create a history that was both reasonable and hard to find obvious fault with. 

Some of the smaller things, those specific details about their relationship, made that pit of guilt morph into a mixture of desire, sadness and yearning. 

The most domestic stuff left him questioning if Keith really would drink hot cocoa after a long day (he most certainly would Lance would bet good money) and if he’d greet him with a flick to the forehead and a peck on the lips. 

Most of the lies were built on facts, that was the right way to do it of course, especially the ones where Lance gushed about Keith’s most adorable quirks. 

But once again, as they slipped too easily into the lies and stories, and Veronica remained at the end of the table, nearly hidden from sight, they forgot how close she was to the true situation. 

Or more specifically, Lance forgot that Keith didn’t know that the Cuban had gushed to his sister for hours about how adorable Keith was, or how domestic their patterns were yet how undeniably action packed their lives were. 

So when Keith, forever a magnificent actor and liar, answered every question well, some of his answers aligned too closely with stuff Veronica knew and she was becoming increasingly suspicious. At the same time even their thorough responses couldn’t quite convince his family to ignore the oddly shaped stomach and terrible facial hair. 

Lance almost wanted to laugh because Karma’s a bitch but the situation was bad for him too. Nevertheless, he did find Keith’s annoyance with the entire situation oddly satisfying, especially his annoyance with the fact that the appearance he had chosen greatly interfered with, sitting, walking and eating. 

Rather loudly, Lance heard Keith’s voice complain, “just fucking murder me already, please.” 

Worried that his family may have heard Keith’s language and tone of general annoyance, he swiveled his head around to look for changes in expressions, before relaxing into his seat. 

It didn’t stop him from lifting his finger up to his mouth to say “shhhh” but this was ineffective considering Keith only responded with a confused tilt of the head. 

The dinner continued in that fashion and soon enough all the food was gone, the plates cleared, and they had resolved the obligatory argument in which Keith attempted to offer his services and wash the dishes but his father insisted that was his job. 

The minute it was acceptable and not entirely rude to leave the kitchen, Lance and Keith had basically run into his room, closing the door behind them. 

With a single look they both took off, heading towards their bags to grab their clothes without even speaking. 

Lance watched with tired amusement as Keith held up his pajamas, a dark black t-shirt and sweatpants that would most definitely not fit him the way he was now. Wordlessly, Lance threw him a giant ratty old t-shirt which he pulled on gratefully. 

For a moment he thought about how cute it would look on Keith’s real body as compared to how it just made “Kinkade” look worse. 

Finally the two, decked out in their pajamas, collapsed on the bed side by side with a loud sigh. 

“Thank god that’s over,” Keith exclaimed, lifting his head up while still reclined to finally examine Lance’s room, taking in all the pictures and nerdy books and the glow in the dark constellations on his ceiling. 

The Cuban waved his arm in motion to the room. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Cute.”

“Psh,” Lance scoffed. “It’s not cute, it’s a man cave.”

“Sure it is, what with the millions of pictures of your mom.”

“Are you saying it’s not manly to love your mother?”

Now it was Keith’s turn for a dismissive hand motion, his head falling back against the bed with a soft plop. 

“Man, I fucking hate this stomach,” Keith said when he turned to lie on his side and curl up like a cat only to find he couldn’t quite bend that way. “Not to mention this disgusting beard.” The last part was accompanied by a disgruntled noise and angry tug at his facial hair. 

“It’s your fault,” Lance said while yawning, “besides, the looks really growing on me, getting me all hot and bothered, you know?”

“Oh fuck off,” Keith groaned. Hearing Kinkade’s voice was still jarring when the words were so very Keith, even if Lance had gotten somewhat used to it. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, both chests heaving, one misshaped teenager next to one toned one, nearly falling asleep. 

The door slammed open as Veronica burst in, anger radiating off her body, and both Lance and Keith shot up off the bed in surprise, eyes wide and hearts immediately racing. 

“How can you stand out there and lie to them, Lance! You’re lying to them about your own feelings and lying to your boyfriend as well! Speaking of which,” she turned her anger towards Keith who was trying to avoid looking at the two of them by pretending to examine the walls of Lance’s room. “How can you be okay with this? How can you be willing to go along with it?”

“Don’t attack him!” Lance responded angrily while Keith sat there nervously, his stupid fake shapeshifting belly sticking out.

“So he truly doesn’t know,” she deadpanned. 

“It doesn’t matter if he does or if he doesn’t.” 

“Lance, it’s unfair to be here with Kinkade, no offense,” she directed the last part at Keith who seemed extremely confused and worried, continuously glancing at Lance with his brows furrowed. “It’s clear that he likes you a lot and apparently you’ve been dating for a while, which confuses me because well Lance you were very evidently in-”

When he realized where the conversation was headed, blind panic began rushing through his body, coursing through his blood, desperation rising into his voice as he begged, “Please shut up Veronica, please, I'm begging you, please.” Involuntarily he began to mouth please as if it was a chant. 

But his sister had no mercy, especially because in the end she thought what she was doing was right. Lance’s begging only seemed to make her more determined. “He deserves to know!” 

On the edge of tears, Lance was terrified, more terrified than he had ever been. “No he doesn’t!” He screamed back at her, no longer concerned about secrecy or waking up the family, only wanting to protect his secret. 

His sister stared at him, her eyes softening momentarily at his obvious distress, but her resolve wavered for mere moments before they hardened again with determination. 

But when she said it, her voice was surprisingly quiet, not as loud or furious but still tinged with disappointment and anger, “Lance, you can’t be in a dedicated relationship when you’re in love with Keith.”

And Lance collapsed, head falling into his hands, his heart ripped from his chest and lying shattered on the floor. The whole world was crumbling around him, everything closing in. He felt hopeless and terrified and all he could think was shit shit shit shit and when he peeked up to see Keith’s reaction the teenager was just standing there with Kinkade’s mouth hanging open in shock. 

“In love?” he echoed softly, his voice disbelieving. 

Lance was crying, he could feel the tears beginning to slide down his cheek as he relished in these last few moments where Keith would actually look at him, even if it was with Kinkade’s eyes which were nothing in comparison to the violet ones Lance loved so much. 

“That’s right,” Veronica nodded, still glaring at Lance but giving ‘Kinkade’ sympathetic smiles. “Your boyfriend is in love with Keith, the Galran son , and I suspect he has been for a very long time. I’m sorry, Kinkade. And I’m sorry Lance, but he deserved to know.” By the end of her speech, she nearly sounded sad for him, but the disappointment was oh so clear. 

Lance couldn’t bare to even glance at the boy sitting next to him, the thigh pressed against him burning his skin. With a soft tone that didn’t sound quite so right in his ex boyfriend's voice Keith asked, “Is it true?” 

And all he could do was nod, putting his head in his hands as he bent over to avoid looking at Keith and seeing his pity. Maybe if he stayed here, not moving on the bed he could ignore it and avoid the inevitable rejection. 

Never before had the prospect of being outright rejected been so terrible, not when he flirted with Allura or asked out Kinkade or Plaxum. The pain was so acute, the sinking of his heart so clear. 

Over the sound of his own misery he barely heard Keith ask Veronica to leave, barely heard her apologies and the click of the door as it shut. 

“Lance,” Keith prodded, his voice finally his own signifying that he had transformed back which was cruel because his voice did things to poor Lance’s heart and seeing Keith be the one to reject him was final and heart breaking.  

“Lance look at me.” But the Cuban refused, shaking his head because even though he desperately wanted to see those eyes, he didn’t want to see what they would hold. 

He felt soft fingers reach under his chin, lifting it upwards so he was forced to look at Keith who was now kneeling in front of him, staring straight at his face, eyes searching his features.  

"You love me?" Keith questioned softly. His gaze was confused and shocked and disbelieving all at once. His beautiful violet eyes were wide and shining and Lance was drowning. He was drowning in his feelings, he was drowning in Keith and he couldn’t handle it. 

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, the tears coming harder despite the soft fingers wiping them away. 

“ Wow ,” Keith murmured quietly. 

And then he was launching upward, rising from his knees to smash his mouth into Lance’s, sending the pair tumbling backwards until Keith was on top of Lance and kissing him. 

For a brief second, the Cuban was too shocked to move, to respond, but when it finally registered that Keith was kissing him he began to eagerly reciprocate. 

It felt like nothing he had ever felt before, like a storm, a tempest, but also a warmth that he couldn’t quite place. Keith kissed like the world was ending, desperate and hard, and Lance met him with just as much force. 

He moved his hands upward to tangle in Keith’s hair, making the other sigh happily as Lance brought him closer. 

Finally they broke away, lips still inches away as they panted, breathing hard against each other to regain their breath while Lance searched Keith’s eyes for a brief moment before surging upward and then they were kissing again, slower and deeper. Where before it felt like the world was ending, now it felt like they had just found out that they were still alive. 

Lance flipped them around so now he was on top, a motion which pulled a small, soft noise from Keith who moved his hands around the Cuban’s neck. 

“I love you too,” Keith whispered against his lips, causing Lance to reel back in surprise as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that what he had deemed impossible was happening. 

Keith loved him too. 

A small awed “holy shit,” escaped him as he once again leaned down to meet Keith’s lips, his face stretching into a grin which Lance could feel mirrored back at him, their happiness making it difficult to continue kissing. 

And when they finally wore themselves out, and their hair was messy and they were grinning too hard to kiss anymore, Lance got to hold Keith like he had always wanted, finally have him close enough. 

At that moment, everything seemed okay. 

Chapter Text

“What. The. Fuck.” 

Lance eyes opened groggily, his body warm and pressed against another, smaller figure in his too small bed, his own arm wrapped around the other protectively. Keith was curled up, back flush against Lance’s chest, and breathing softly, peaceful and hair messy. 

It would have been a truly special moment if the voice hadn’t come from someone else. 

The door was slammed shut as Veronica stared at the two boys, eyes wide and fury like Lance had never seen before written all over his features. 

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Keith began to stir, trying to furrow deeper into the cushions and into Lance, who was stiff as cardboard and staring at his sister like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Samurai, babe, we have company.” Lance whispered into Keith’s ear who finally started to open his eyes, rubbing them sleepily. The Cuban wanted nothing more than to kiss him again and stay there in bed all night long, but his sister was seething and Keith had finally noticed. 

“Fuck.”

Lance just nodded in agreement. “Look, V, I can explain.”

“You-” Veronica was too angry to get the words out, her red face reminding him of a fire breathing dragon. 

“It’ll be easy he said,” Keith was muttering quietly. “No one will know you’re not him he said.”

Lance glared at the burrowing Galran. “You are not helping.” 

Veronica was so furious it was a wonder she hadn’t exploded yet. “How- could you- When I said to- I didn’t mean-”

Terror, abject terror was flooding his body, with a hint of irritation because his sister was getting on his last nerve. Her actions from yesterday still rung in his head, and if Keith hadn’t loved him then he probably would have been a hell of a lot more annoyed. “Look, just listen-”

“You can’t possibly explain this Lance! You’re cheating! I would have never, ever taken you as a cheater.”

Ugh. 

Now he was offended too, though he rationalized that from her point of view there really was no other way to interpret the information. “I am not!” He objected, looking towards Keith for help only to find his new boyfriend picking at the pillow as if it held all the secrets. 

“Keith,” He hissed. 

The Galran looked up at Lance, then pointed to himself with a “who me?”

Veronica cut off the Cuban’s “yes you, you complete dickwad” with her own demand. “I want you to explain it, Lance.” 

He waved his hands wildly, trying to think of the simplest way to get the two of them out of their situation. “You were right, I realized you were right.” Always a good way to start, right?

His older sister raised her eyebrows, motioning for him to continue. 

Warm hands hidden by the sheets reached to trace circles on Lance’s thigh to comfort him and reassure him that despite Keith’s interest in the pillow, the boy was listening. But then they started doing an interesting pattern, as if writing something, and Lance was silent for a moment trying to figure out what Keith was trying to tell him. 

F-A-K-E

Veronica’s eyes began to narrow more and more as Lance continued to be silent, but before she could open her mouth for admonishment, the Cuban understood what his boyfriend (hopefully) was trying to say and he praised whoever was upstairs that Keith was an experienced undercover spy who had been covering things up since birth. 

“You were right, I was in love with Keith, but Ryan and I were not actually dating. We were faking it.”

He prayed to the gods that he sounded more convincing out loud than he did in his head. 

“Faking it.” Veronica deadpanned. “Like some dumb hallmark movie?” 

Lance nodded eagerly, “Precisely.” He reached under the sheets to grab Keith’s hand and lace their fingers together. 

“Yesterday, when I revealed that stuff about Keith, Kinkade seemed pretty shocked, you’re telling me that was fake?”

N-O

“Well no,” Lance replied, trusting Keith and understanding where he was going with it. “As it turns out, Ryan still had real feelings for me,” Lance pretended to look down sadly and regretfully, his acting from missions serving him well. “But I never knew and he didn’t know about my feelings for Keith and he was hoping that this would be some kind of christmas movie, like you said.”

He wanted to punch the Galran when he felt the concealed snickers move Keith’s chest. 

Fortunately not recognizing Keith’s amusement,

Veronica softened lightly, showing signs that Lance’s lie was working. “And what is Keith doing here?”

The boy in question blushed as Lance smiled widely, “I mean you were right, I was in love with him.” He sent a soft look towards Keith who was fighting off an embarrassed smile, pink dusting his cheeks. “And Ryan told me there was no use pitying him. He told me to go after him, and I did.”

There was a short pause as Lance and Keith waited to see if she bought it, if she believed their story. For a minute it seemed she wouldn’t accept their answer, her eyes remained narrowed in suspicion. Suddenly, she smiled, jumping onto the bed to hug them in true McClain fashion. “I’m so happy for you two!” she exclaimed.

Lance and Keith breathed twin sighs of relief, the Cuban immediately hugging back while the Galran carefully moved his hands to rest on Veronica’s back in a cautious hug. 

“I knew it would happen, saw it coming a mile away. But why did you feel it was necessary to bring a fake date?”

Lance tried to come up with something plausible and finally settled on, “I thought it would make mom happy, she’s always going on about how lonely I am.” 

Veronica sighed with understanding, both familiar with their mother’s worry. “Well I’m glad you’ll have Keith to introduce, I don’t think they liked Kinkade much anyway, from what I hear his last appearance was not quite so enjoyable.” She chuckled in amusement, Lance cringing as he remembered. “I’m just glad you found someone much better now. And Keith,” she turned her attention to the Galran who had simply been staring fondly at the siblings but was now at attention. “I like you so don’t make me give the obligatory “if you hurt him” speech,” she threatened. 

Keith gulped and nodded fervently. “I could never,” he promised. 

The older sibling shook her head, “I can’t believe I'm trusting the soon to be Galran emperor with my little bro.” She shrugged, “Well weirder things have happened. Bye you two, be safe!”

And with that she was gone. 

Both Keith and Lance collapsed back into bed, the Galran immediately stretching his arms and legs out. 

Lance sighed with relief, “I cannot believe she fell for that.”

“I didn't think that’d work.” The Galran yawned loudly, laughing lightly with amusement. “Either cause you wouldn’t get what “fake” meant or cause the story is dumb as all hell.”

“What do you mean it’s dumb- I think it’s a fine story.”

“Oh yeah it’s so believable, ‘hey mom I brought a fake date who was actually in love with me but after thinking bout it I decided to go for the one I truly loved so surprise he’s here!’”

“I mean when you put it like that…”

With a light chuckle the Galran curled up on his side again. “Man I’m glad I can be in my own body.” he yawned. 

“Yeah,” Lance said. “It wasn’t quite the same looking at Kinkade.”

Keith tucked himself further into position, warmth permeating off of him. “And now we can sleep again.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with my family knowing you’re here?” Lance asked softly, scared but secure with what they had. He had faith they could work. 

Already drifting off Keith sleepily replied, “Yeah, we’ll just have to do some convincing that I’m not evil.” 

And then he closed his eyes, falling asleep once again, and Lance went right along with him. 

His family was dead silent, only Veronica silently chuckling in the background at Lance’s pain, as they all took in the two standing next to one another. 

Lance’s dad opened his mouth to speak and let it hang open before snapping it shut. 

To his father’s right, Rachel’s brows were scrunched, her eyebrows pulled in tightly and eyes narrowed. 

Marco had dropped his phone and was letting it lie there on the floor, his body frozen in time. 

“So I’m glad you guys are taking this well,” Lance commented, the awkwardness heavy from their big reveal they Kinkade was a fake boyfriend and Keith was his real one. 

Finally, his mother, who had been staring intensely at Keith who had been shrinking into himself at all the attention, spoke up. “This is… unusual, mijo. Many things to address. First, you tell me you have been faking everything and then you say you are in love with the Galran son.”

Lance shrugged, “yeah that about sums it up.”

His mom pursed her lips before speaking again. “And you felt you had to pretend to make me happy?”

Guilt spread throughout his body to his very fingertips as he smiled regretfully at her, watching as she sighed and shook her head. “Oh mijo.”

Rachel piped up from her seat on the couch, looking as if she was trying to figure out a very difficult math problem. “This makes no sense, am I the only one who notices that this makes no sense?”

Marco nodded along with her. “You gotta be shitting us with this fake date bs.”

“I’m not! I know it’s dumb but I’m not lying, Kinkade and I are not a thing.” At least that part was true. “Can’t you guys trust me?” That one felt a little bad.

“C’mon Lance, you have to admit there are strange inconsistencies,” Rachel said, arms crossed. Veronica nodded her head in the background as if pretending to consider it. 

Marco chimed in, “First, Lance, why would you ever choose someone so weird looking to be your fake date?”

“Hey!” Lance objected, secretly thinking to himself that he was most definitely going to kill Keith later. Keith who was suspiciously quiet and avoiding all eye contact. “He’s my friend, don’t be rude. Besides I’m not that shallow.”

The entire family looked at him disbelievingly, “Sure Lance,” Rachel deadpanned. 

“Excuse me?!” 

Marco shook his head with amusement, reaching his hands out placatingly but it came off as patronizing instead. “Look, I’m just saying, he looked weird by anybody’s standards and we all know you have a thing for people way out of your league.”

“Says who?”

“Says anybody you’ve ever liked.”

“Then how come I’ve dated a bunch of people?”

Now Rachel stepped in. “The people you truly like aren’t the people you’ve dated.”

Now Lance was just confused, he tilted his head to the side looking at Rachel as if she had lost a head. “Huh?”

“C’mon Lance, everyone you’ve ever dated is people who liked you first, not the other way around. Plaxum? You heard that she liked you. Kinkade? Asked you out. Do I need to go on?”

For a minute Lance sat there, his mind re-examining every relationship he’s ever been in. From his side Keith looked at him curiously, watching his eyes widen as he reached behind him to sit on the arm of the sofa.

After his moment of introspection, Lance came to the stark realization that his sisters were right, he rarely went after anybody he didn’t know for sure liked him. And he had never liked them before learning that fact. “Huh.”

“But you have liked people, Lance,” Rachel reminded. “They’ve just been way hot and you’ve been to chicken to act on it.”

Lance once again grew defensive, feeling put on the spotlight by his family in front of Keith who was probably wondering what that made him. “Look, I’ve had reasons beyond that, that’s not fair.”

This time Veronica cut in, her lips tilted up in a taunting smirk. “Ok but will you admit that every time you have a crush they end being one of the Untouchables.”

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed, “Untouchables?”

Despite the fact that Lance was clearly dying of embarrassment, Veronica explained the system. “The Untouchables are a group of people at our school who everyone wants but everyone knows they can’t get.”

Rachel pondered this for a moment. “Allura.”

“Yup.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “I never seriously liked Allura, it was a crush, she was pretty, I was new.”

Keith shifted at his side, lightly pushing him to signal him to move over so he could sit on the couch’s arm next to him. It was a familiar position, a familiar warmth, something they had done thousands of times before. Lance really shouldn’t have been so affected by simply sitting so close to one another. Keith began to tap lightly on his arm, a comforting presence that helped him calm down.

“Ok then,” Veronica continued. “What about Shiro?”

Lance’s entire face heated up as Keith laughed loudly, a short burst that he tried to cover up by ducking his head down and hiding in Lance’s sweatshirt. But Lance could feel his body shaking with laughter. “You liked Shiro ?”

Lance flicked the boy’s forehead angrily, only causing the other to dissolve into more laughter, the family chuckling mildly at the sight. His parents who had been remaining very silent were smiling quietly at the two boys. 

“It wasn’t for long!” He defended. “Besides, I didn’t know he was dating back then and once I did I definitely didn’t like him anymore.”

Keith continued to laugh, not able to hide his laughter. “I mean, out of all of them he’s like the most Untouchable,” Keith said, his voice laden with amusement. 

“Well that’s not true,” Veronica cut in, her chuckles having subsided. “Out of the three Untouchables, Shiro is not the most untouchable.”

Keith tilted his head, looking towards Lance as if asking for confirmation. He shrugged, “Well she’s kinda right.”

Keith’s mouth twisted into an adorable expression of curiosity, sending butterflies throughout Lance’s stomach. “Then who is it? Also you mentioned three Untouchables, I’ve only ever heard of people talk about Shiro and Allura.”

Veronica shook her head, her eyes twinkling with both incredulity and amusement. “You really don’t know?”

Now Lance’s other family members had kept silent during this exchange, but Rachel and Marco’s eyes widened with understanding as they raked their eyes up and down Keith’s figure, noting his small black shirt which was rising up and exposing a thin sliver of pale skin. Lance could physically see them considering Keith’s abs and legs. 

Keith, observant yet oblivious when it came to romance, looked at them from the corner of his eye in confusion.  

Rachel and Marco began to laugh earnestly, Veronica grinning wryly and even his parents couldn’t help but smile. 

“Samurai, hun,” Lance said. “It’s you.” The tapping on his arm stopped as Keith’s face flooded red. 

“Wh- what?” he spluttered. 

Now the entire family was laughing at Keith’s clear embarrassment, his brother choking out, “how couldn’t you know?”

“It is a wonder that you don’t know, Keith” Veronica said. “I mean, people talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, about other things not my looks!”

Now Lance had to laugh. “When you look like that” he said, gesturing up and down, “people will always talk about your looks. Besides, you’re a freaking prince who refuses to even look at anybody in that way besides James, so yeah, you’re pretty untouchable.”

If possible, Keith’s face turned even redder. 

Rachel cooed in the background. “For once, Lance is right, which brings us to our next illogical point. How did Lance manage to land someone like him?”

“Excuse me?” Lance scowled. 

“Yeah,” Marco nodded, “It doesn’t seem realistic. I mean this is the Keith I don’t go to that school and even I’ve heard about him.”

“Really,” Lance deadpanned. “That's what you heard about him, is that he’s really hot.”

“Oh yeah, I mean I heard about the other stuff,” Marco winced slightly as the air grew mildly awkward and Keith cringed. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard all about his eyes and his body and his jaw . It honestly gets a little tiring. To be fair I do hear about Shiro and Allura, but Keith, yeah you come up a lot, nice job man.” His older brother held his fist out in the air, and Keith awkwardly fistbumped it, his face still burning. 

“Also,” Veronica interrupted, raising her eyebrow with amusement at Keith’s awkwardness. “Keith’s ex is very, very good looking.”

“Well yeah,” Keith finally spoke, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, his leg bouncing nervously. But he sounded confident as he said, “But I always thought Lance was hotter.”

Now it was Lance’s turn to feel the heat rising to his face. 

The family was silent for a moment, some wearing fond smiles, others nodding with approval, before Lance’s father spoke for the first time in many minutes. “Damn right.”

The entire family and Keith, broke down in laughter, Lance’s mother swatting his father on the arm but she was clearly amused. 

“Thanks Dad,” Lance said through his subsiding laughter. 

“Yeah well both Lance and James are considered very good looking but they date around so much that they aren’t Untouchable,” Veronica explained. 

“Darn Lance, you could have been an Untouchable and you missed that opportunity?” Marco laughed lightly, shaking his head with faux disappointment. 

Keith, who was shaking his leg methodically, began picking at his nails idly. “He will be now.”

Lance felt his entire body flush with warmth and affection, a grin spreading across his face uncontrollably as Keith refused to look at him. 

He slung an arm around the Galran, pulling him towards his body affectionately. Keith made light protests but allowed himself to be jostled. 

His mother, who was yet to speak, preferring to silently observe, looked directly at Lance, smiled widely and nodded, signifying her approval. 

If possible his smile grew even larger. 

“I knew I liked you two from the minute you showed up in my room,” Veronica said, tone affectionate. 

Rachel gasped lightly, “You’ve seen them together?”

Veronica laughed, “Have I seen them together? It’s impossible not to, they go everywhere together. I hardly see them apart.”

“But they were in your room?” Marco asked, eyes probing. 

“One day I get home, and I see the two of them, literally cuddling on the couch. Needless to say I’m a little shocked, and kinda terrified considering…” Now Veronica trailed off, having realized that they hadn’t really talked about that quite well. 

His father stood up and approached them, his mother following closely. “I figure this is where we come in,” he said while Rachel, Marco and Veronica fell silent and looked at one another. Lance sighed, having wanted to avoid this conversation. 

“So Keith,” his father began, “let’s address the elephant in the room.”

“Dad, please-“

“Lance, we will need to address it at some point.”

His dad was in full interrogation mode, voice stern and eyes harsh. “Forgive me Keith if your family doesn’t instill confidence in me regarding morals.” 

This is gonna be good Lance thought to himself. Before this Keith had been embarrassed and awkward because the subject matter was so foreign to him, but this? This was Keith’s element. 

The boy in question straightened, not intimidated by the towering father. “You’re forgiven.” His father’s eyes widened considerably at Keith’s bluntness. 

Not everyone could tell Keith’s attitude shift, but Lance, Lance knew that this was Keith who was unafraid of anything and anyone, who had spent his life maintaining a dangerous cover. 

“How do I know you aren’t going to kill my son?” He asked, shocking everyone at the table. Lance’s mother stepped forward to attempt to make her husband stand down, but his father held his position adamantly. 

Keith barely even reacted. “If I wanted to kill Lance, I woulda done it much earlier.” 

Looking around the group, every face in sight had a shocked expression in place. His father’s mouth was hanging open in shock. It was clear they had not expected this answer. “God Keith,” Lance said with amusement. “You’re the worst.” 

Keith shrugged, “I mean I’m just saying, what would be the point of dating you to kill you. That’d just be so much extra work.”

Lance buried his face into Keith’s neck, laughing slightly at just the ridiculousness of it all, of him. “Seriously, why are you like this?”

“Why do you like it?”

Lance nodded his head slightly in concession, “A fair rebuttal, I do like it very much.”

His father opened his mouth to speak again, this time with a little more uncertainty. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that answer. How do we know you aren’t a spy, spying on Lance?”

“What information would I spy on Lance for, beauty care?”

Veronica laughed loudly in the background as Lance scowled down at Keith (down, just accept your height Keith). “C'mon dad,” she said. “Leave him alone, I don’t know if you’re watching these two, but they’re pretty authentic. A good couple for sure, Keith’s my favorite of all your dates, Lance.”

Keith smiled shyly, the simple compliment changing him back into the embarrassed teenager. 

“Besides,” Veronica continued, “I’ve seen him at school, he isn’t that good of an actor.”

If only she knew. 

Rachel, who had somehow been charmed by Keith’s awkwardness, also stood to his defense. “Also, Papa, someone as good looking as him can really do anything he wants and I won’t be angry.”

“Rachel” his mother reprimanded at the same time as Lance hissed, “back off, he’s mine.”

Keith looked back and forth between the two with wary eyes, leaning slightly into Lance. The Cuban heard him mutter to himself, “This family.” 

“Mijo,” his mother interrupted, her voice soft and kind. “¿Confías en él, mijo?”

“Con todo mi corazón.”

From his side, Keith grabbed his hand subtly, and squeezed lightly. Something deep in his bones told him that Keith could understand what they were saying. 

His mother nodded, eyes trusting before smiling kindly, “Then I will trust you. Welcome to the family Keith.”

“If you’re dating Lance, then there’s definitely something seriously wrong with you,” Rachel commented, her eyes narrowed playfully. 

The rest of the family was chatting, Marco and Veronica the only two in the kitchen and fighting over the last piece of food while his parents laughed quietly at some private conversation. Occasionally they’d glance at Lance and Keith, his father with an approving expression and his mother with kindness. 

Somehow Keith’s blunt honesty had won his father’s approval, which was rare. Who would have thought all it took to charm him was brutal wit. 

“You mean besides-“

Lance nearly slapped Keith for bringing it up once again, but Rachel waved him off, “we already covered that.”

Oh how much he loved his sister at that moment. Rachel was officially the better sibling on his mental list. 

“Well he believes in aliens,” Lance offered. 

Rachel raised an eyebrow, smirking as she turned to a Keith who was now drilling a mental hole into his skull. 

“Really, aliens? The green things in spaceships?”

Naturally, Keith took the bait. 

“Ok no that’s totally unfair? Who says aliens have to be tentacle like, I mean for all we know they could be small bacteria. Honestly it’s kind of arrogant of humans to completely disregard the possibility of alien life considering the universe is literally endless so…” Keith trailed off as he realized the entire family was looking at him. 

“Wow,” Rachel observed, “you are freaking adorable.”

Keith’s face flushed embarrassedly. 

Veronica, who had heard this statement, came over- prompting Marco to join them- and wrapped her arms over Rachel casually, examining Keith carefully. 

“You’re right,” she said. “I would have never thought I’d be saying that about you, but you are genuinely cute.”

“I know right,” Lance gushed, happy to see Keith accepted. 

Marco chuckled from the side causing everyone to turn to him in curiosity. “Sorry I was just thinking about how out of Lance’s league he was-“

“C’mon,” Lance groaned. “Not again.”

Keith leaned forward, “No, no, keep going.”

“Keith!”

Lance swung open his dorm room with gusto, feeling comforted by the shitty furniture and walls that were carefully blank, both Keith and Lance careful about avoiding blatantly obvious evidence of their rebellious tendencies. 

The Cuban had thought he was paranoid, never letting anyone but Hunk know anything until Pidge. And even then these were his two best friends. His family remained excluded, his “boss” per se was kept in the dark, and Allura and Coran who would obviously be delighted to find out the “Chaos” was not a widely unreliable and shady character who was inevitably going to go loco. 

But his paranoia was nothing compared to Keith’s which was understandable really. Keith Galra (Lance definitely needed to figure out if that was his real name because if so Keith was definitely taking the McClain name) was constantly looking over his shoulder. He was suspicious of everyone, never let down his guard, and he rarely slipped up. It was kinda terrifying, kinda hot, just how good a spy his new boyfriend was. 

Somehow, Lance had managed to gain Keith’s trust, gain insight into his life. And it was exhilaratingly terrifying. Lance had never fallen so hard, it was the type of love that he would never quite get over, and he never wanted to. 

Lance McClain could see himself standing at the altar with Keith, waking up in bed every morning with Keith, going to reunions with Keith, fighting side by side with Keith. He could see himself dying for Keith. 

And that was the dangerous part. Because he had a sneaking suspicion that Keith would too, and nothing would break his heart more than that. 

Keith and Lance’s lives were dangerous, and this game they were playing was dangerous. But Lance couldn’t deny that it was also intensely addicting, so much so that he would never be willing to remove his piece from the board. 

To the ignorant bystander, Lance was on the losing side of the war, fighting a losing battle. 

But with the revelation that Keith was one of them cane the revelation that the Revolution was far more powerful than anyone could imagine. Before they only had one trump card, now they had two. And these two just happened to be compatible and intensely devoted to both one another and the cause. 

Keith was a powerful ally. 

The Revolution’s arsenal had far more secret weapons than anyone could imagine. 

Though shy, Hunk was talented. He has honed his basic skills and now he was the yellow Paladin. He would most certainly be underestimated, but that would only be an advantage. 

Pidge was wickedly smart, clever and undeniably a genius with the computer. The Green Paladin could access the deepest depths of the Galran Empire. 

An important member of the Voltron Coalition, Adam clearly had the guts, the brains and the ties to cause some serious damage to anyone who stood in opposition. Plus, Lance had seen him fight and knew he never wanted to see it directed at him… ever. 

Not to mention, Shiro, the famous Black Paladin. No one could ever have that title without being absolutely terrifying. He packed a powerful punch, had an intelligent mind, and was extremely kind. 

Lance also had a sneaking suspicion that Shiro was an unregistered faction member, Keith had carefully dropped a couple of hints in regards to this when discussing how Keith was so familiar with the system of monitoring powers. 

Allura and Coran, both powerful Quintessence users were essential to the rebellion. They had widespread influence and it was hard to gauge just how much damage they could do. 

And now, now they had the two most powerful magic users in the world working as a team. Lance, “the proposed Calm” and Keith “the Chaos”. 

Keith was a Shapeshifter. This was a fact that could not be ignored. 

The thing about the Shapeshifters is that even as a myth they were known to be powerful. Clearly they were the most lethal rivals to the Elementals, considering they had specifically targeted that faction. But Lance had to consider, if the Galra had merely been attempting to prevent the birth of the Chaos. If this was true, then Keith was truly dangerous. And one hiding right under their noses. 

Speaking of which, Keith has gone to visit Shiro and Adam, both of them having just arrived from their vacation of going as a couple to both families. 

Lance had decided to drop their stuff off and then go meet Pidge and Hunk. 

It had been a long weekend, and Lance’s only goal was to relax with his two best friends and brag about his new boyfriend. He wasn’t tired per se, just exhausted from social interaction, even he- a social butterfly -found the heavy familial interrogation an exhausting adventure. But now he had to gear himself up for another explanation. This one would hopefully be easier. 

For all intents and purposes, he and Keith had a few days of rest before the break was over and they had to go back to the inescapable monotony that came with the daily life of a spy. Oh how he missed his professors crooning voices and condescending language. 

Most kids came home after the holidays so they could have a couple of days with their friends to relax or throw parties, depending on what kind of person you were. But Lance and Keith’s groups had come a little earlier than most. 

Lance tossed Keith’s bags onto his bed then did the same with his own.

The car ride had left him exhausted and smelling gross so he hopped into the shower, stripping himself of his clothes and throwing them into the laundry bag. He grabbed his favorite light blue oversized sweatshirt, white tank top and some black jeans and threw them onto the counter of the bathroom. 

He felt himself relaxing, the tension draining from his shoulders under the constant stream of the faucet, the warm water being a clear advantage of rooming with the Galran Prince. The holidays brought relative quiet, nobody upstairs banging around and nobody downstairs shouting about dishes. The only sound was the light patter of water hitting his skin. He began to wash the shampoo out of his hair- 

“I knew he’d be happy about this.”

A voice shattered the silence of the shower, scaring the shit out of Lance and nearly causing him to fall over, suds dripping into his eyes as he called out, “Keith? Is that you? Are you home?”

But no one responded. Once again, the only sound was the sound of the water. 

Lance hurriedly finished his shower, rapidly washing the remaining soap from his brown hair before shutting off the stream and walking out with his towel wrapped around his waist. “Keith?” he called out again only to be met with silence. 

Frowning, he turned back to the bathroom to get dressed and dry his hair with his towel. Must have imagined it, he thought to himself. 

Once dressed, he pulled on his sweatshirt and grabbed his keys from the counter, walking to the door. 

“Father?!” 

Lance dropped his keys in shock, walking backwards with terror and nearly falling over the couch. It was the same voice as before, it sounded like... 

“Who said that?! Who’s there?” He asked loudly. 

An intense feeling of worry shot through his body unexpectedly, causing him to jerk his head around intensely, searching the room frantically. But even upon recognizing an empty room, the lack of a threat nearby, this feeling of fear streamed through his body, an overwhelming feeling of terror. But the fear was less of the type that horror movies inspired, it was the feeling you got when someone threatened the ones you loved. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t his fear. 

“What’s he doing here?” The voice came again, evidently not talking to Lance but he could hear him as clear as day. He sounded scared, panicked. 

“No, it can’t be. He can’t know.”

Lance swiveled around rapidly, spinning in circles as he desperately tried to understand where the voice was coming from. 

“I won’t let him touch him.”

It was Keith’s voice, Lance was sure , but the apartment was empty . 

He ran out of the room, slamming the door open as he looked through the halls. When he found nobody there he ran towards his window. Still nothing.

“That voice, I know that voice- no- can’t be here.”

“Here? Where’s here?”

“No, no, no stop- have to focus- have to figure out- why-how-“

The words were coming faster and faster, more broken apart and Lance felt himself desperately searching for the source, running down the halls and holding his hands over his ears to see if he could still hear the voice. 

“-Need my sword- need to keep him away- need to…”

“Keith!” Lance called out desperately, “Need to what?” He felt his feet carrying him back to the apartment as if Keith would have appeared there in the time they were gone. 

“Oh-“

“What? Keith, where are you?”

“Holy shit- the letters- how is this possible- does this mean-“

“Keith! What the hell is happening?”

“Can’t come here.”

Lance felt dizzy, but an unknown anger, a foreign feeling, was coursing through his body. Even deeper there was determination. Once again it wasn’t his anger. It wasn’t his determination. “Where are you?!”

And Keith’s voice rang out once more in the empty apartment and this time there was no mistaking the fact that he was speaking directly to Lance.

“Stay away.”

Chapter Text

His ears were ringing. 

His mind was spinning. 

Everything felt numb. 

All that mattered was Keith.

So he ran.

If Keith had a dime for every time his father visited him at school… he’d be fucking poor because his father never fucking visited him. Dirt poor. 

So it was a real, real bad sign that Emperor Zarkon had decided to… swing by. In full armor. Literally armed to the teeth. 

This did not bode well for Keith. 

Despite distinctly mind-telling (mind-telling are you fucking serious Keith) his Cuban boyfriend not to come, the Galran had a feeling that it wouldn’t be too long until he came running and then they would all be shit-fucked. You would have thought that living with the Emperor for so long would have lessened the general sentiment of vehement hatred that flooded Keith’s system every time he was forced to set eyes upon the fucker, but unfortunately he still felt a sneer pulling at his lips, felt a strong desire to raise the middle finger right in the man’s smug face. 

Keith would be lying if he said he never considered showing the man his full arsenal of power simply to piss him off but an annoying voice that sounded suspiciously like Shiro always felt the need to remind him that it probably wasn’t the best course of action. Rude. 

A rush of panic hit him like vertigo as Keith realized that there was a likely chance he and Lance’s powers would become a crucial element in the very near future. 

“Father.” Keith cringed at his own tone, 80% obedience and 20% terribly disguised negative emotions varying from worry to abhorrence.  

Zarkon was all confidence, his stance powerful, imposing and if Keith hadn’t spent nearly his entire life in his presence, he might have been a lot more scared. But his own safety was not a concern, he didn’t quite fear for his own fate but Zarkon walking on campus threatened everything he found dear, from Shiro and Adam to Lance. Lance. 

Lance had the most to lose. If Zarkon walked away from the Garrison knowing who Lance was, what he was, then he would never be safe. Neither would his family, the people who had accepted him even when he was in his true form, or his friends Pidge and Hunk (the former of which he wasn’t quite so familiar with beyond her dislike of him but he understood how important they were for the Cuban and how much they cared for him). 

The safety of these people was something Keith could not—refused to— risk.

Adam, Shiro and Lance: these people were Keith’s life and he would defend them until he could no longer stand on two legs, until he could no longer breathe.

“Son,” came the reply and Keith had to will himself not to laugh and comment that Zarkon was as much of a father to him as was the shoe Lance had thrown at his face that one time Keith had claimed that the Cuban’s body soap smelled like rotten meat. “I’ve heard some terrible rumors lately, really scary stuff.” 

Keith felt himself tense up, barely able to stop his eyes from narrowing. His hand reached up to finger the ring around his neck and he began to trace the chain.

“And what rumors would that be?” Keith asked nonchalantly, attempting to release the tension from his body and appear casual, even as he began to unclasp the necklace with one hand.

Once free, Keith grabbed the necklace casually, pretending to simply rub the back of his neck, and he slipped the ring onto his finger, letting the chain slip down his body, cool and slightly ticklish. 

“Mostly rumors that I thought to myself couldn’t possibly be true but felt I should check out, just in case,” Zarkon answered noncommittally, his tone seemingly casual but his eyes piercing and deadly. 

Keith was beginning to get extremely antsy and with thinly veiled irritation once again asked “and which rumors are you referring to?” He refrained from adding the ones that claim I have two dicks?

“Take a guess.”

“Father, I do not wish to play a guessing game.”

“And I do not wish to hear that my son is hanging around with rebel spies.”

Keith blinked. Well that was definitely, infinitely worse than the one about his two dicks. He attempted to play it off, “haven’t you heard that you shouldn’t believe everything you hear? Especially something so ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Zarkon continued, “when I came here you were nowhere to be seen.”

“I’m sorry, was I supposed to inform you every time I stepped off campus? My bad, I’ll remember next time,” Keith dismissed, hoping the man couldn't hear his heartbeat which seemed awfully loud in his own ears.

But as the Galran attempted to walk past his father, he felt an iron grip seize his arm, the grip so tight it caused Keith to furrow his eyebrows in pain.

Zarkon leaned down to angrily speak in his ear, “do not lie to me child.”

“I am not-” But Keith was cut off as Zarkon used his grip on his arm to shove him to the ground, causing him to groan with pain. “-Lying.”

He felt something wet hit his skin and realized that the Galran had spit on him. Unintentionally, Keith’s lips began to curl in disgust as he stared at the spit before he remembered that he was attempting to quell his father’s anger and judging by the man’s death stare he was not doing so well. 

Undoubtedly, Keith would have to let himself be bruised, probably beg profusely, apologize for god knows what and look extremely repentant while doing it. That would probably be the hardest feat as even when his father wasn’t directing his evil nature towards Keith it was already a struggle not to appear as if his only wish in life was for the man to burn at the stake while the rest of the Empire crumbled.

“Father, please. I swear-” He groaned again as Zarkon placed his boot on Keith’s wrist and began to dig his foot into the younger Galran’s skin, nearly causing the bones to snap.

“Is it that Shiro?” Zarkon asked, his voice booming as he applied even more pressure to his foot.

“Fu-” Keith cut his small admission of pain off before the man could hear the cuss word and take it as some sign of rebellion. “No! Shiro is not a spy!” Lies.

Suddenly his nose made a disgusting sound and his head began to spin, making it evident that Zarkon had removed his foot from his wrist only to shove the toe directly into Keith’s nose, causing the thing to erupt with blood and forcing Keith’s eyes shut as he gasped with pain.

“Are you sure ?” The Emperor dragged out the sure, punctuating its end with a kick to the fallen boy’s stomach, ignoring his gasps of “No” or “not Shiro”.

It was rapidly becoming clear that Keith’s position as a spy was soon to be inaccessible, especially when another kick came with far more force than he would have thought was necessary. 

And as Keith lay there, gasping for breath and doubled over in pain, trying to consider whether it would be better to fight or attempt to regain the older man’s trust, Lance appeared.

“Keith!” He screamed, rushing over to the boy lying on the floor, but halting when Zarkon’s figure finally captured the Cuban’s attention.

“No,” Keith rasped, trying to beg Lance to run away despite knowing that the boy was doomed the minute he had stepped into view.

“And who might this be, Keith,” Zarkon sneered, kicking Keith in the stomach again, sending shockwaves throughout his body.

Lance’s eyes were wide in panic, his body seemingly paralyzed, but Keith’s small moan of pain forced him back to reality. As he began to approach the pair Keith could see that the Cuban was wearing his Blade armor, armed with his gun and shaking like a leaf.

Because of their bond, or whatever the fuck their mental connection was, Keith could directly feel just why Lance was shaking, a mixture of anger, panic and fear.

In that moment, Lance seemed immeasurably brave, scared out of his wits and risking everything for Keith who struggled to understand what he had done to deserve someone who loved him this much.

“Lance, please leave,” he begged from the ground and he continued to whisper please even as Zarkon’s boot was shoved into his mouth. 

But Lance only continued to approach, eyes as large as saucers and his head shaking back and forth as if to say “no” and convince himself not to run. “I won't leave you,” came his voice, barely audible from Keith’s position.

“How sweet,” Zarkon commented, his voice darkly teasing, mocking. He reached to grab the massive sword on his back, and holding the blade, shoved the handle deep into Keith’s side, forcing a shout from his throat, a shout that was muffled by the shoe that was causing him to gag. But he could neither remove the intrusive object, nor lift his head from the floor, the pressure on his jaw pushing his head into the ground.

Another sharp pain shot up his side as the handle slammed into his ribs, twice in quick succession. The pain was now making Keith very light headed, Lance’s screams not even registering in his mind. 

The boot moved from his mouth and Keith immediately began to cough, trying to spit the dirt out and get it off his tongue.

However he had no time to do this because nearly immediately, Zarkon’s boot found itself pressing down on Keith’s windpipe cutting off his oxygen even as Keith’s hands reached to uselessly grasp the elder’s leg.

Distinctly he could hear Lance yelling, but pain was blossoming in his ribs and he was beginning to grow dizzy at the lack of oxygen.

Just as his vision grew dark, Keith took a large gasp as the boot was freed from his throat and it took him a minute to understand why.

In his desperation, Lance had begun to rush the Emperor and Keith could see a small dent in Zarkon’s leg armor signalling that the Cuban had shot him there in order to force him to release Keith’s throat. 

Unworried, and undoubtedly underestimating Lance, Zarkon turned the massive blade over in his hands, before bringing it in position, ready to strike.

Lance launched himself off a small ledge, flinging himself toward Zarkon, his panic clearly reducing his cognitive ability because his attack had very little chance of being effective. As Zarkon began to swing his blade, Lance twisted in midair, using his power over Quintessence to help him avoid the weapon while he reached up in an attempt to just barely graze the brandished sword. While the sword might have missed the mark, Lance himself was hit immediately after by one of Zarkon’s powerful fists.

Keith watched helplessly as Lance fell to the floor, rolling on the hard ground. With a loud groan Lance stopped rolling, attempting to get up on all fours, all the while spitting blood and heaving great breaths. The boy twisted his neck to look back at the aggressor a few feet back whose fat fist was no longer holding the blade and instead groping at emptiness, his sword having flown momentarily out of his hand because of Lance’s power, though Keith knew that he had been trying to make the blade crumble with his powers over matter. 

The Emperor sneered uglily, holding out his hand, his expression downright murderous, evidently ready to attack the boy on the ground and Keith felt panic strike his heart. He pulled himself off the ground despite the pain, knowing that if it got any worse he would be forced to heal himself by shapeshifting into another form.

The ground beneath their feet rumbled and the street began to crack, a massive split emerging and rushing towards Lance.

A burst of adrenaline surged through his bones and Keith found himself sprinting towards the Cuban, his body alight with pain, especially within his ribs which were most likely broken. Just in the nick of time, he managed to pull Lance out of the way, the collision helping them evade the dangerous crack but also sending them once again rolling across the floor. 

An uncontrollable cry of pain came from Keith’s mouth as Lance crushed his already damaged ribs, and tears began to prick the outside of his eyes.

“Keith?” Lance stuttered, his eyes going wide at the sight of blood in Keith’s mouth. “Keith!” The Cuban began to grasp at his body, flipping him onto his back as he began to desperately repeat “Keith.”

The Galran felt his eyes begin to slip close, his body attempting to shut down, and he knew that they would have to do something about his drastic injuries, and soon. Behind them Zarkon remained silent, completely neutral to the death of his supposed son.

Wordlessly Lance reached out toward Keith, touching his chest gingerly but enough to cause Keith to moan in pain. Lance drew his hand back rapidly, as if he had been burned, his eyes full of panic and terror.

I can use my powers to heal you. Please, let me.

You can’t. If you do then he will know about you. Your family will never be safe.

What other option is there? 

You know what I need to do.

But that's just as dangerous! Face the facts, Keith.

There’s no going back now.

Keith attempted to stop Lance from healing him, but his body felt weak and brittle, pain accompanied his every move and what little fight he had left him drained away upon seeing the Cuban’s expression, full of pain and desperation. He let his hand fall down, welcoming Lance’s soothing touch and the flow of energy, mending his wounds, repairing his bones. Not all healing magic was so strong, but Lance’s magic was insanely powerful, smothering him, drowning him.

You know I can shapeshift.

That’s a card we need to save for later.

Zarkon’s face had nearly gone purple with anger as he watched Lance heal Keith, but the look on his face as Lance’s hands shifted to the dirt, forming bandages from the debris, was priceless. Keith might have laughed if he hadn’t known that this was Lance’s deliberate move to force the other man to recognize his power.

It was a smart ploy, Keith idly thought to himself. Revealing himself as the Chaos was dangerous but both of them knew that they would not emerge from this situation with their identities intact. 

By revealing his powers now, Lance let Zarkon assume that only he was powerful, thus letting Keith’s strengths have more of an opportunity to take the other by surprise.

Zarkon thought that this was Lance playing his trump card, when in reality they had many more.

Smart.

I try.

“So you can control both Quintessence and matter boy,” Zarkon said, his voice dripping with poison. “A little brat like you is the Chaos? Do you know what this means? For you? For your family? Revealing yourself and risking all that for a worthless kid who will never return the favor? Foolish.”

“How would you know that?” Lance hissed angrily, coming to Keith’s defense. Unnecessarily, he might add.

‘What would he do,“ he mocked. “Cry for you? That’s all the brats ever been able to do. Cry when he couldn’t perform magic, cry when he only had one element. Afterall, crying is the only thing something so weak can do.”

“The only weak one here is you.”

Zarkon scoffed, clearly amused by their fight. “So this is it Keith? This is who you chose over me, your own family?”

Perhaps he should have realized it sooner, but in that moment it became glaringly evident that there was no point in hiding his alliances any longer.

So he merely returned the scoff and snarled, “My loyalty to you faded long before I even met Lance. You only have yourself to blame.”

“So the Kitten’s got teeth?” His smile twisted evilly. “Too bad it's far too late for them to be of any use.”

Keith grinned, his eyes sharp, glinting in the light of the casual flame he had begun to burn in his palm. “Really? Because if I recall correctly my teeth killed Sendak.” 

His grin only widened as ice cold realization swept across Zarkon’s face, as the smug look was replaced with one of shock and anger.

“Oops, guess I revealed too much,” Keith said with faux regret. The ring on his finger began to glow as it transformed until he was holding that pretty, thin blade that he preferred. He twisted it in his hand, enjoying Lance’s small “oh” of understanding.

“Moles don’t deserve to see the light of day.”

Keith shrugged, “Sucks to suck.”

And with that, he sprung forward.

Caught by surprise, Zarkon barely had any time to dodge Keith’s initial attack, sparks flying across their vision as the sword’s metal scraped that of the man’s armor. Lance had also lifted his rifle into position and was now aiming for the kinks in the man’s armor as he stumbled backward. One plate on Zarkon’s leg fell off as a well aimed shot hit it out of position.

“Nice shot, Sharpshooter,” Keith called, satisfied with the small burst of pride that came across their bond.

But their advantage of surprise could only last so long, and Zarkon was a man well known for his ability in battle, having been able to take on multiple people at once with all types of power. Soon enough he began to push back, no longer on the defensive, and forcing the two to begin dodging his elemental attacks. Keith still had not revealed that he could control all the elements so he was at a severe disadvantage when it came to avoiding the small bursts of fire or earth.

Lance mostly defended himself with a strong barrier of Quintessence, but his magic was not as usable in one on one combat situations, especially not in terms of offensive power. He was extremely skilled at long range attacks, which was why they worked well together, but the entire fight was beginning to prove difficult.

Zarkon was talented and he was ruthless, two things which were currently giving him an edge. Keith and Lance were weak because they had to watch out for one another, remain vigilant that their attacks did not hit the other and half their energy went to focusing on each other so as to ensure they were safe.

It was only inevitable that Zarkon would take advantage of this. Using a wall of rock, he broke away from his sword fight with Keith, probably understanding that he wouldn’t be able to handle the speeds with which the younger attacked for much longer.

By the time Keith was able to make his way past the wall, Zarkon was extremely close to Lance and advancing more by the second.

The Cuban was backing up, but he was running out of space and in the near future he would most likely be forced to engage in close range combat with a weapon that would prove ineffective and magic that would only be able to help for so long.

A wave of energy passed through them, but it only sent Zarkon stumbling back a couple of feet rather than completely deterring him in his approach.

Soon enough, Zarkon’s weapon was glinting dangerously and Lance was scrambling to reload his gun, a barrier weakening under a barrage of every element. The barrier fell, and Lance looked up panicked as Zarkon held a hand up, clearly beginning to initiate a heavy elemental attack.

In a desperate and perhaps foolish act of recklessness, which were his specialty after all, Keith who had been running toward them, grabbed onto Zarkon’s back, his body far leaner than the Emperor's, and began to pull this arm upward, even latching his teeth onto the skin. He felt like a wild animal.

Lance had managed to reload his weapon, but before he could use it a large hand grabbed at Keith’s leg and wrenched him off, throwing him off so viciously that Keith had no time to prepare for the following attack. He was still flying when he felt his body rip open, when he felt pain overload everyone of his senses as his vision turned red, dizzy. There was a thick blade protruding from his chest.

With a thud, he fell to the floor, the fall further pushing the weapon through his body.

Blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed, waves of pain wracking his body at every red cough.

With a gasp of pain Lance fell to his knees, their bond causing the Cuban to get a taste of the nearly overwhelming fear that permeated throughout his mind as everything within Keith shattered from his bones to his organs.

Vaguely they could both hear Zarkon laugh, but little could distract Keith from the pain and little could rip Lance’s eyes away from the boneless body of the one he loved. 

Anger.

Pain.

Fear.

Terror.

Pain.

Lance couldn’t think straight, everything had slipped away, all he could see was Keith- Keith hanging off the sword, kneeling on the floor battered, bruised, dying.

Keith was dying.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Keith blinked, his vision clouded with pain. 

But through his pain, panic began to seize his heart as Zarkon who had stopped laughing began to approach Lance, Lance who was still bent over on his knees, shaking, trembling.

He tried to call out, to tell Lance to look up, to tell him to run away, to move, to save himself, but all that came out was blood.

The bond was useless, nothing but pain and agony could pass through their minds.

Keith could only watch as Zarkon stood, looming over Lance, preparing to bring his weapon down on him as well.

But just as the Emperor was about to finish Lance off, the Cuban, threw his head back to the heavens.

And he screamed.

It was a terrible sound, a shriek of pure agony, of pain, of anger. It ripped Keith apart far more than the rock that was currently killing him had. It made his entire body seize and the hairs on his arms stood up, his skin prickling with the intensity.

All around the campus the glass windows shattered, exploding outward as if there had been some kind of explosion from the inside. Shards flew forward, reflecting the light so that each seemed like a little piece of violent stardust.

For a moment, it was like everything had stopped, like time had been suspended.

And then it all crashed down, a wave of energy so powerful that it felt akin to the winds of a tornado rushed out from Lance, a rush that sent Zarkon stumbling backward.

As the wave passed, the leaves wilted and the grass changed from green to brown in an instant.

Even from Keith’s distance, even though his eyes were clouded with tears, he could see Lance’s eyes burning bright. They looked nearly molten and even Zarkon was frozen in place.

The Cuban had gone silent, the emotions that had previously been passing from the bond, the agony and anger were gone.

Then suddenly, in a mere second, water burst from the sprinklers, from every sprinkler within a hundred feet, swirling angrily, threateningly and with it came the howling of wind that made the leaves quake in its stead. 

But this time, it wasn’t Keith commanding the elements.

It was Lance.

Around the Cuban’s arms, the tanned arms that seemed far more suited to be glistening with water, were traces of blue fire. It was barely noticeable, but it was as if Lance’s body was prickling with energy, with fire and with Quintessence.

Suddenly, the pain didn’t seem so important.

Keith breathed out just as a column of water exploded behind Lance whose mind had become completely overwhelmed by his emotions, so much so that he became completely unaware of the bond, of Keith, of anything but his mission to kill Zarkon, to end him so completely that the man would be lie before him, mutilated, with no chance to even plead. 

Ripping his eyes away from the scene before him and mentally steeling himself, Keith looked down at his own hands and reached for the weapon that was impaling him, closing his eyes and attempting to focus on anything, anything but the pain that was making it difficult to breathe.

He pressed his palms flat on either side of the blade, drawing in a breath that was shaky and unsubstantial and felt magic flow through his body and toward his hands.

The blade crumbled in his grip.

Keith fell forward, barely having time to look at the gaping wound in his chest before it began to close up, his magic automatically shifting his body until it was healed- undoubtedly one of the greatest benefits of shapeshifting.

There wasn’t any time to question how any of this was possible, how Lance could be standing surrounded by every element, how Keith could reach down and change metal to sand.

Now Keith had been extremely lucky. Had the weapon hit his heart it would have caused instantaneous death and his shapeshifting would have made no difference. Similarly, without being able to manipulate matter he would have had no strength to remove the blade and thus no ability to heal his wounds. But he had been given a second chance, and now he knew that there was no way this fight would end without revealing the full extent of their capabilities.

Even as he made this resolution, he felt Quintessence collect around his body just as it had for Lance so many times before, felt himself shrouded in the very energy of the universe as it caused his skin to prickle with anticipation.

He closed his eyes once again and began to shift, his body began to harden, his skin changing from its usual pale color to bloodstained and metallic. Underneath his damaged armor, everything was changing and soon enough his skin was glinting like the ring lying by his feet,

As he picked up his ring, the jewelry once more transformed into a blade, clean and beautiful once again. This time it was curved wickedly, it's dark metal glinting in the sunlight.

Turning back to the fight, Keith was hit by a realization of what had occurred. Lance was now fighting with both the power of the elements and his own energy, he was attacking with everything he had but it was eerily… calm.

For a moment, when Keith had been dying, when he had barely been able to open his eyes, Lance had been burning.

That candle, that candle that Lance had claimed to burn inside him, seemed to have fallen over, seemed to have burned him from the inside out.

But the Cuban was no longer on fire, now he had a dangerous edge, an edge that seemed like the calm waves before a storm.

Keith on the other hand, Keith had been drowning in pain.

But as he had been coughing blood, something had been changing, changing in both Lance and Keith. Because as soon as Lance had screamed, as soon as he had let out that god awful chaotic shriek that had felt so much worse than anything causing him physical pain, something broke.

Something like a dam, a dam deep inside him, and when the candle inside of Lance had caught fire, the blue paint that had been infringing on Keith’s usual red mixed- and everything turned purple.

Lance and Keith were no longer two completely separate entities. They were no longer just the Chaos and the Calm.

Because even if Lance had grown ruthlessly calm , Keith could feel him still burning, ever so slightly.

Their bond was still inaccessible, Lance too emotionally unstable to communicate in their minds, but Keith’s skin was metal and he was on fire. There was no doubt in his mind that as soon as Zarkon had come close to killing Keith he had fundamentally changed something within them. He had doomed himself.

Lance was a dangerous predator, ruthless in his attacks and patiently advancing on Zarkon who had grown furious with his inability to switch from defense to offense. He was quiet, he was calm , even with the powers of the elements swirling around his being.

And Keith? Keith was nothing short of a pure, uncontrollable force of chaos . Even as he walked forward with the powers of the Calm at hand.

Zarkon swung his massive weapon at Lance, who quickly ducked under it, bringing his rifle up to shoot at the Emperor who dodged just in time.

The larger man sprung back, chunks of rock blocking bullets which continued to come. Any outsider could tell that Lance had caught Zarkon off guard, that he hadn’t been expecting such raw power.

However, the two seemed to be evening out, Lance clearly exhausted from having just released insanely large amounts of energy and continuing to use more with endless attacks on the man in front of him as well as the use of his magic to block his opponent’s counters.

Lance could not fight like a demon forever, he was a sharpshooter, a force of calm and even if the powers of his counterpart gave him strength, he was a long distance and strategic fighter.

The Cuban was undoubtedly the more powerful entity in the fight, what with all the faction powers seemingly at his disposal, but he was also splintered. Keith could feel it. Lance was too caught up in his task that he had not realized Keith wasn’t dead, and it was ripping him to pieces, it was weakening him. Furthermore, he was yet to use shape shifting, which was understandable as it was the most difficult to master. But even without it, using all the faction powers and basic magic at the same time was incredibly taxing.

Zarkon was also growing weaker, but he was more experienced with attacking and with the elements.

The Calm’s powers always tended to be more on the defensive side where the Chaos’ powers were more on the offensive, reckless side.

Essentially, it was time for Keith to step in.

On the ground was a fairly large tree branch that had fallen at some point in the fight, and Keith drew upon his newfound powers to change it into a beautiful sword, one that echoed the other in his right hand.

Fuck, he loved this new power.

Now armed with two weapons, his skin still metal, Keith sprung into action.

Lance had his arm raised, a gun pointed at Zarkon who was about to swing his weapon into Lance while simultaneously beginning to dodge the shot.

But just as the sound of the gun went off, narrowly grazing Zarkon’s ear, the man’s sword came dangerously close to Lance’s ribs.

The Cuban boy’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen far too late for him to do anything about it, but before the blade could come into contact with his skin, Keith brought his own two swords up.

With a loud noise, the strike was blocked, the force of the movement sending ripples through his arms. 

For a moment all three simply waited before Keith smirked, “Did ya miss me?”

Summoning all the energy he could muster, Keith took advantage of the Emperor’s momentary shock to bring his leg slamming into the man’s side.

With the Quintessence powering this attack, Zarkon went flying through the air, losing his massive weapon in the process.

Keith quickly grabbed it and let it crumble into dirt within seconds and he felt his body change to soft skin again, the other form too draining to maintain and more unnecessary with the blade out of the way. 

There was a moment of silence as Lance looked at Keith, his eyes wide and uncomprehending.

“Keith?” In the midst of battle, everything around Lance had gone silent, his powers seemed to be suspended, hovering around him as beautiful blue eyes stared at him. 

Zarkon was coughing in the background, but Keith had eyes for only Lance.

Keith?

Yeah it's me.

Oh.

Once again, Keith felt overwhelmed by every one of Lance’s emotions, his fear, his anger, his bloodlust. And then there was pure relief. 

In the middle of the battlefield, the two boys just stood there, staring at one another as their bond reopened and they both understood what had to come next. They turned toward Zarkon who was laughing loudly, a clear sign that the man was completely off his rocker. “Son, your friend’s not bad, you two might last a little longer if you let him fight in your stead. After all, he is the Chaos and you’re just some runt who can’t use magic.”

“Don’t call me son,” Keith hissed, menacingly gripping his weapons while advancing toward Zarkon who was unworried and made no move to attack. 

“The sooner you stop this ridiculous behavior, the sooner-”

But what he was going to say next they would never know because Zarkon had realized the state of Keith’s body, blood dried up and hardened on perfectly undamaged skin.

“You- you-” He spluttered, shock written all over his face and the previously condescending smirk having slipped away to reveal what Keith had known the man was all along. The imposing emperor had for a second been reduced to his true form of a sniveling, tyrannical man who yearned for power and hated the Chaos, the Calm and the Shapeshifters because he would never amount to their level. He was a dictator about to meet his end. “We exterminated you all, a Galra cannot have those powers, no one can have these powers!” 

The last bit sounded a bit hysterical when it hit Keith’s ears.

With practiced movements, Keith swung his sword dangerously, his wrist twisting easily to accommodate the blade’s circular movements. “Then it is fortunate that my last name is not Galra.” At those words even with the blood pumping in his ears, even in his process of healing his wounds, Lance paused to look at Keith with curious eyes. 

The Emperor faltered for a second before attempting to keep control of the situation and sneering, “Then what is it?” 

“ Kogane.”

“Where did you hear that name!?” He demanded, sounding outraged, his voice booming and carrying across the empty campus square.

“They are my people” Keith said, still advancing in the same manner as before, Lance loading bullets at his back. “I am a shapeshifter and you killed my family.”

“I gave you a family you ungrateful runt,” Zarkon spat, moving to stand up.

There was a click as Lance locked his reloaded rifle into place. Keith could feel his dull anger through the bond, but he knew Lance was letting him carry the conversation.

“You were never my family, you were nothing more than a dictator both in the empire and within our home.”

Zarkon laughed, but his eyes were wary and he seemed to have realized the situation he was in.

“Repression breeds rebellion,” Keith continued, “and very few were repressed like me.”

The battlefield was silent, Zarkon attempting to understand what was happening but Keith found his attention diverted by Lance who had seemingly come to the same conclusion that Keith had previously and was now attempting to communicate through their bond.

I feel like I’m on fire. Is this how you always feel, Keith?

Elemental magic is all consuming.

I feel like I’m drowning, is that how you always feel?

It’s hard to stay afloat when submerged in the very fabric of the universe.

What does this mean? 

Why do we feel this way?

Does it matter?

I guess not but I don’t know, it’s just… 

Weird?

Yeah. 

On the bright side, there’s no way we can lose now.

I never had any doubts.

I call bullshit.

There were no more words from the Emperor other than a harsh growl that Keith ignored as he began to run toward him, swords at the ready.

When they launched into battle again, nobody spoke and the air was filled with constant dirt and debris. 

The mental connection that had somehow formed between Lance and Keith served to be extremely useful in battle. The two did not need to speak out loud or even look at one another to understand what they wanted to do, they were perfectly in sync and that's exactly why Keith chose to let his next attack falter, let Zarkon think that he was about to win.

It was an added bonus that he got to see that expression of pure glee and hatred spread across his “father’s” face as he believed he won. But before he could take opportunity of what he thought to be his son’s failure, a shot hit him in the chest, his armor too strong for the bullet to have pierced his skin, but it sent him stumbling backward.

Now he was off guard. Keith sprung forward at his father and took a leap of faith, faith in the power of the Calm and not the Chaos flowing through his veins. He grabbed the stumbling Emperor’s helmet and commanded the Quintessence around him to give him the leverage he needed to flip midair and cause Zarkon’s body to go flying through the air, Keith landing soundly on his feet as the Emperor fell to the ground with a thud.

“Holy fucking shit,” Keith murmured, staring at his hands curiously, in awe of the power of Quintessence.

What the fuck, Keith. You need to fucking teach me that.

Keith merely smirked, choosing not to reply. At his feet, annoyingly soaking his shoes, was a small puddle and as his eyes traced the floor of the makeshift battlefield there were puddles everywhere, small residues of Lance’s explosive introduction to elemental magic. 

At the very back of his mind a dangerous idea began to take shape, an idea that kept his attacks stalled, Lance shooting Zarkon looking slightly panicked as Keith simply stood there with his eyes toward the ground, narrowed in thought. 

Keith was just beginning to understand the possibilities of their newfound magical talents, because faction powers themselves were always intensely powerful- only balanced because other people had them. But one person controlling all four faction powers seemed unreasonably strong- like the Avatar but hyped up on the strongest steroids money could buy. But they were untrained in these new powers, and they zapped their energy an insane amount. Lance’s outburst had clearly weighed heavily on him, his magic reaching its limits and Keith made a note to teach the boy in hand to hand combat assisted with very little magic as that was his specialty. Because the younger Galran used magic as an assistance to his fighting rather than as his primary weapon, he still had a plentiful amount of magic at hand, but Lance’s loss of control had made it so he was far more dependent on the rifle. And while he was a master with that weapon, against Zarkon it was proving ineffective.

But if Keith’s theories were right then they had far more less magically taxing means at their service. 

In his research, he had read a lot of books where people theorized what effects having two faction powers could have on the magic itself. It had been proven that the “Chaos” could use Quintessence to fortify the strength of the objects he made, strengthen the chemical bonds within them. But the greatest theories sprung around the combination of controlling matter and the elements.

Because one thing that the Manipulators of Magic could not do, was change the elements.

But what if the person had power over those too?

Hey Lance.

Keith watched as the young Cuban’s mind was ripped from the battle by the voice in his head, his shooting halted as he waited for what Keith was going to say.

I have an idea.

I’m all ears.

So there's a lot of puddles here, on the floor.

Your point?

Now this is going to sound weird… but do you know who Bakugou is?

Um… yeah. Why? Is now really the time to discuss-

…

Holy shit, you’re insane.

Is that even possible?

Mierda if it is…

You’re going to have to shapeshift.

To harden my skin?

Yeah.

I'll figure it out.

I know.

Now distract him.

Nodding in Keith’s direction, Lance turned back to the Emperor, readying his gun. This would be their final attack, Lance was placing all his faith in Keith’s idea because he had very little strength to perform magic and very soon he would have very little strength at all. Thankfully, the Cuban was smart, strategic in battle and he knew exactly how to get everyone’s attention, his being a magnet for the limelight.

But Zarkon would not just forget about his son, especially not in his determined state, looking as if he lusted for Keith’s blood to be spilt.

They needed to convince him that he was out of commission. 

Sensing no possible way to orchestrate a scene that would help this, they both decided it would be best to simply look for an opportunity, and thus they launched a unified attack, Keith rushing in with his weapon, pieces of rock flying at him but being repelled by Keith’s own magic. He leapt into the air but unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Zarkon managed to recognize the attack and shot a well timed spike of Earth that forced Keith to maneuver in mid air to avoid it, causing him to fall onto the floor. But before Zarkon could do anything, he was once again shot in the chest by the Cuban. This time he looked distinctly annoyed, looking down at his smoking armor. “You little disgusting, filthy, traitorous brat,” he sneered, turning away from Keith to face Lance.

This proved to be a bad mistake.

Sensing his opening, Keith once again leapt onto his father’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and concentrating on changing them to metal. 

Taken by surprise, Zarkon attempted to shake him off but couldn’t because of Keith’s transformation. “This is why my lineage murdered all the shapeshifters!” he roared angrily, causing Keith’s blood to boil, even as he felt himself being wrenched forcibly off. 

Keith let himself be thrown, finding himself rolling on the floor, new bruises and scratches forming on his skin as the concrete took its toll on his body.

This was the opportunity they had needed and Lance immediately seized it, rushing him in a closer ranged attack of Quintessence that was so bright it practically forced Zarkon to rip his eyes away from Keith who immediately drew the Quintessence around him, attempting to disappear from the battle while Lance kept the Emperor occupied.

He crawled himself quietly over to one of the numerous puddles, reaching down and submerging his hand completely in the dirty water before closing his eyes tightly and willing the magic to spread through his body and into his hand, transforming the liquid that he touched into something colorless and fairly oily. He resisted the urge to cheer in victory. 

As he began to move on to the other puddles around him, Keith watched as Lance and the Emperor continued their confrontation, both currently heaving heavily and seemingly gearing up for the next wave of attacks. 

Lance was cracking his neck loudly, his finger twitching on the trigger of his gun while Zarkon flexed his fingers while rotating his wrists (like a prick). 

It became increasingly evident that Zarkon’s greatest weakness was in fact his complete and utter lack of foresight, his inability to see the bigger picture, something that the Chaos and the Calm knew they could take advantage of, and had multiple times already. It was far too easy to distract Zarkon from the fact that there was another person in this fight, simple incendiary words clouding his vision until all he could see was Lance. 

As Keith bent down once again he heard Lance declare, “I would rather die than ever have to bow to you.” Blood was trickling out of the Cuban’s mouth, but he merely wiped it away and brought his rifle into position, his eyes glinting dangerously. His words did their purpose, even if the general sentiment seemed fairly obvious in their position, because Zarkon immediately growled.

“I don’t need dead men to bow,” the Emperor seethed, once again attempting to barrage Lance with fire that while ineffective was taking a toll on Lance’s energy as the Cuban had to block it with magic he was unfamiliar with. However, years of hiding his powers had taught Lance well, and he hid his own tiredness from the older man, only exuding confidence.

“What makes you think I will die?” Lance challenged, shooting at the approaching emperor even if the shots were blocked and did little against the man’s defense. “I’m getting used to this whole element thing, soon your attacks will be ineffective.” It was a bluff, both Keith and Lance knew that even if he was growing more adjusted to the power he would not be able to fight at full strength for much longer. That was the danger of having so much power at your disposal, Keith reasoned to himself.

Thankfully Zarkon was too dumb to notice this or think logically and understand it. “Just controlling the elements isn’t enough to beat me. I am the Emperor, the most powerful being on this planet.”

Keith heard Lance scoff loudly as he shook his head. “Doubtful.”

“No matter how much you can repair your body, there’s a certain point where you’ll be broke beyond repair, where you won’t even have time to think before you’re lying dead. I’ll keep you alive for as long as possible, I don't want to just snuff the light from your eyes. I want to see it drain out of you slowly.” 

Lance smirked, eyes cool, calm and dangerous. “You will die long before that moment will come.” Reaching down once more to another puddle, Keith rolled his eyes. Those two were both so dramatic.

“And why’s that?” Zarkon sneered.

“Because…” Lance began, suddenly sprinting toward the Emperor, launching himself towards the man using his powers over Quintessence to quicken his movements until he was moving at speeds that Zarkon could not follow. The air around him was crackling with energy as he managed to touch every piece of armor he could reach, watching as it turned to dust. “Ya basic,” Lance finished, eyes glinting as if he was gloating and cackling lightly at the groan that Keith sent through their bond. 

However, his victory was short as the Cuban felt himself flying backwards quickly, slamming into a tree and falling limply to the ground. “Dios that is your fucking favorite damn move” he groaned from the floor. Despite having sent his opponent flying, this time Zarkon could not pretend to be unaffected, his armor had been destroyed and he was standing there in rags, staring at the Cuban. 

Keith smiled to himself as he realized that even Zarkon could not deny Lance’s undeniable strength, not after he had been forced to witness it time and time again. 

This strength however, was reaching its limits and Zarkon was beginning to advance on Lance who had stumbled to his feet. Clearly light headed, Lance staggered forward back onto the concrete, carefully yet subtly avoiding a small puddle on the edge. 

It's time.

I’ll draw him to the center.

With the final bits of his strength, Lance braced himself, willing his skin to harden into rock and watching with amazement as he used the powers of the Shapeshifters for the first time. Once again, he began to shoot Zarkon, forcing him farther and farther backwards while letting him think that this was the Cuban’s final stand.

Finally Zarkon backed into the largest pool, not realizing that he hadn’t stepped into water but something else entirely, not realizing that he was in the epicenter of a large collection of puddles.

“This is the end,” Zarkon snarled, posture proud as if he had already claimed victory.

“Is it?” Lance asked, enjoying how Zarkon’s eyes widened and then narrowed as Keith revealed himself once more, nodding amiably.

“I think it is,” the younger Galran offered lightly.

Zarkon merely bared his teeth. “How many times must I crush you before you learn?”

“Probably a lot,” Lance said conversationally, examining his hardened skin, “Keith’s pretty stubborn.”

The boy in question nodded, his own skin rippling as it too began to change. “He’s not wrong, especially when it comes to ending your godforsaken life.”

“Is that what you want?” Zarkon asked. “To end my life?”

Keith and Lance looked at one another, as if pretending to consider it. “Yes,” they said in tandem.

“I'll string you up by your guts,” came Zarkon’s threat, falling on uncaring ears. “I’ve done it before, you’ve seen it.”

Keith shuddered lightly, memories of executions haunting him while also fueling his rage. “God you disgust me. Everything you stand for makes me physically want to hurl, everything you do makes me wanna scream. I've lived with it for so many years and I refuse to live with it one more day.”

“And what are you gonna do about it, Keith?” Lance asked, picking at his fingers calmly, his head tilted to the side.

Before Keith could answer, Zarkon cut in with a scoff. “There is nothing a weak thing like you can do.”

“You know what Lance, I know exactly what I’m gonna do. Because there actually is something I can do.” Keith dropped to his knees, bracing his hands on the floor as Zarkon’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Because what you’re standing in isn’t water.”

Keith smirked as he examined his own hand, watching as sparks collected around it. “It’s nitroglycerin.”

And with that, he slammed both hands into the ground, commanding the Quintessence, the energy of the universe, and siphoning it into the floor.

Sparks flowed through Keith, collecting in his hands before it shot out in all directions, a wave of energy that released sparks throughout the concrete.

Everything seemed to slow down in that moment and all they could do was watch and hope their skin was hard enough as the beautiful display of sparks, emitting from the epicenter where Keith was kneeling with his palms pressed to the floor, set off a chain of explosions that shook the floor like nothing they had ever felt before.

The concrete cracked and dust flew into the air, forcing the two boys to close their eyes and rely on their shapeshifting abilities to protect themselves and their ears as they were flung onto their backs by the force of the explosions.

Idly, as his ears rang and most likely bled, Keith mused that it was funny how Lance’s powers of the Calm had acted as the trigger, the detonator, that set off complete and utter Chaos.

As the dust finally settled, both Keith and Lance were far too tired to use their powers to clear the air, Keith finally opened his eyes, coughing slightly because of the dirty atmosphere and feeling slightly reassured when he heard Lance’s cough from behind him.

“Holy shit,” Lance whispered, almost to himself, in complete awe of the destruction, the havoc that they had caused. The floor at their feet had splintered and caved in to form a large crater.

Very slowly the two of them transformed their skin back to normal, the effort of the battle seeping into their bones and the shock at what they had just done surging through their brains.

Keith felt dazed as reached toward his ears which he had healed when he shapeshifted but were caked in blood.

Then he turned to his hands, turning them over continuously. His skin, although undamaged, was covered in dirt.

Neither of the two spoke, but they held each other’s gaze intently, Keith entranced by the shock of bright blue eyes standing against the darkened skin.

A loud thud got their attention, and Keith whipped his head around, eyes widening as he caught sight of the body that had seemingly once been on its knees but had fallen forward.

Lance inhaled sharply and the two of them just watched as the body lying prone on the floor twitched slightly.

“Shockwaves,” Lance murmured and Keith numbly nodded in agreement, both aware that explosions often caused waves of energy that traveled through the body's tissues and organs at supersonic speeds, leaving nothing in the body untouched.

They would never know exactly what killed Zarkon, whether it was those very waves, whether it was the fire that left scarred tissue behind, that marred his body with ugly boils, whether it was the debris having been blasted into his skin, pieces of glass protruding from every pore.

It seemed so abrupt.

There were no final words, no look of shock, no moment where the Emperor cursed them as life slipped from his eyes.

There was only some slight gurgling, trickles of blood tracing the lines of a muscular body, silence as if the chaos had completely evaporated and everything was calm.

This moment didn't seem earth shattering. Maybe it wasn’t.

The body at their feet eventually stopped twitching and then it was over.

Emperor Zarkon was dead.

Behind him, Lance coughed before lightly musing, “Keith Kogane, huh.” His voice was ragged with exhaustion, tinted with disbelief, and by the end he was bending over in another coughing fit as Keith merely looked at him, mouth slightly parted and still dazed, blinking as if he could barely register who was speaking to him.

When he finally regained his breath, Lance whistled lightly and grinned something sharp and beautiful.

“Now that has a nice ring to it.”

Chapter Text

In nearly every movie there's a moment when the climax hits, when everything changes so irrevocably that it feels like there’s no way life could return to what it was before.

Sometimes the movie goes one direction and lets the audience see the aftermath of this climax by taking them to the future. The immediate result is either left up in the air or is explained by the protagonist themself with some short narrative spoken as the camera pans over a city or watches the main characters laugh together over dinner.

These endings always seem to suggest one thing, that even after this dramatic moment where it seems like life itself should be altered, nothing ever really changes. People still fall in love and they still have children and they still go to work every day and they still cry and feel loss and pain and sorrow. All those little things that make people people are constant.

But maybe it's better, maybe there’s more freedom, maybe the world offers more opportunities for people to be happy. Because even if the way people fall in love or do the dishes is the same maybe the background is different, the setting.

Other movies refuse to show what happened after, whether it be the immediate aftermath or the far future. These movies like to leave it open, let you decide on your own if things got better, worse or if they stayed the same.

Movies that focus on what happened after that moment are the movies that focus on people’s first reactions, generally along the lines of shock, distress, joy or disbelief. These movies were always just a little more dramatic.

Lance supposed that if his life was a movie then it would be most similar to the latter but he sorta wished that it was a little bit more movie like because in a movie they could have gotten away with massively exploding the Emperor and not immediately have to focus on avoiding rapidfire questioning and recognition.

But apparently explosions comparable to those caused by nuclear weapons were fairly obvious, especially when conducted in a school setting. Who woulda thought?

In an ideal world, Lance would have been given at least 24 hours to digest what had just happened, maybe 2 hours to just stare at the body before him (jesus christ that's morbid Lance), and then an additional 10 hours to decide who he was going to tell and how.

But nooo, life was unfair and everyone hated Lance so within moments of his excellent one liner about Keith’s last name he was forced to confront what they had done.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Keith was repeating, finally having found his voice once again. The boy was standing there, his weapon having transformed back into a ring that was just lying at his feet as if it wasn’t one of the most powerful weapons in the world. His eyes had widened considerably and he was pointing at the body in shock. 

“Fuck! Lance, fuck!”

“Yeah, Keith, I fucking get it.”

A hysterical Keith spun on him, still pointing at the limp body, “Do you? Lance, I just fucking killed my father, how could you possibly get it? ”

“We,” Lance corrected mindlessly, staring at the floor blankly. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I’m just saying it was both of us.”

“I. Fucking. Know. That.” Keith seethed.

Lance shrugged, “that's not what you said though.”

For a minute Keith just stared at him, expression attempting to communicate both vehement incredulity and disbelief. Finally he shook his head, muttering something under his breath about insanity and dumb boyfriends.

“Shit!” He suddenly exclaimed, startling Lance slightly and forcing him to watch violet eyes widen with panic that never really left. “Shit, shit, shit…”

“Yo, Samurai, can we not do this again?”

Suddenly, the boy in question began to reach for Lance, hands grabbing at his shirt and attempting to jerk the article over his head. 

“Hey!” Lance squawked, trying to wave Keith’s hands off his body in confusion. “What the fuck?”

Keith gave up but immediately began stripping himself and the wind around them began to blow loudly, whipping the dirt off the ground once more. “Take your shirt off,” he demanded. 

“ Why?!”

“Because we need to change clothes,” Keith said, his voice brokering no argument as if it should have been obvious.

Lance looked down at his shirt, wrinkly and dirty and ripped and bloody, and immediately understood what Keith was saying. “Shit.”

“Ex-act-ly.”

His tan fingers began to unconsciously pull at his own shirt, ripping it over his head and bunching the fabric in his hand, all the while unable to rip his eyes away from the pale, nearly perfect skin of Keith’s back— which rippled with muscles— and lean waist. He was dating this boy. 

Unfortunately, his show was interrupted by the dust flying into his eye and his mouth which had been hanging open (fuck off Keith there was no drooling). 

While Lance was mentally patting his back at having obtained himself a smoking hot babe and attempting to regain his vision, Keith had grabbed Lance’s shirt so that he had one shirt in each hand. 

Lance didn’t notice but when Keith had grabbed his shirt, his eyes had strayed to Lance’s tan abs and stayed there for a little while as well (aww Keith look it’s mutual love). 

The Cuban blinked slowly as he realized Keith was thrusting a new, clean white fabric to replace the black undershirt Lance had been wearing under the blade suit which had been demolished beyond repair. 

Keith, who had not had any armor, was holding a similar shirt, but Lance noticed that each shirt was far bigger than their actual torsos and he turned a questioning eye to Keith. As he felt the fabric between his fingers he realized it was quite thin because the mass of the original shirt had to accommodate the new size. 

The other boy simply put the shirt on and immediately began to strip his pants off and motioned for Lance to do the same. 

“So I’m guessing we’re going to shapeshift?”

“No, Lance, I’m just making massive clothes ‘cause that’s my style.”

“Hey, you do wear a lot of oversized shirts, sweatshirts etc. so how was I supposed to know. Or maybe you haven’t mastered my power yet because you can’t become as good as I am in mere hours.”

The cockiness he had been attempting to convey fell flat considering it seemed fairly obvious that no one could master faction powers in that time period. 

Also Keith was already pretty fucking good at it so fuck that. 

As if reading his mind, Keith explained, “these new powers will probably come fairly easy to us simply because we’ve worked with a heavy level of magic from a young age.” As if to demonstrate, he changed his black ripped jeans to massive blue… mom jeans?

“Samurai, babe…” Lance trailed off trying not to laugh when Keith looked at him confused as to why he was amused. “You realize that you are probably the most powerful person on this planet and you are planning on wearing a white shirt and mom jeans?”

“What’s a ‘mom jeans’?” 

“How are you so cute on a daily basis? How come your clothes work?” Lance ranted while secretly enjoying the rising red in Keith’s cheeks. “I put way more effort into my outfits and yet I never look nearly as good as you in your dumb oversized clothes and skinny ripped emo jeans!”

“You just attaching words to ‘jeans’ now?” Keith asked, blushing furiously. “And you do.”

“I do what?”

Shy and embarrassed, Keith looked away before muttering, “Look as good.”

Lance cooed in excitement as he reached with grabby hands towards Keith. “Babbeeee!”

“Shut up.”

“But you’re so cute! Am I not allowed to talk about my cute boyfriend?”

“Well I’m about to get even cuter right now,” Keith said, smirking lightly and holding his arm up as it began to tan and thicken. The boy’s form began to grow taller and Lance started to laugh loudly as the pale emo boy changed into someone who looked like a tan bodyguard working in the mafia. He was even bald. 

“Keith,” Lance began, “I am going to have so much fucking fun with this power.” 

Like most magic, shape shifting made his body tingle, even as his skin was seemingly stretched out or his muscles expanded. 

It felt good. 

“Look at me!” Lance crowed, his new body looking like a character straight outta Jo Jo’s Bizarre Adventure. 

With the two of them now unrecognizable, Keith let the wind die down, both of them laughing lightly which seemed surreal considering what happened. 

It was probably simply relief or complete and utter disbelief at what had happened, at what was happening that led the two to quiet down and just stare at one another. 

It wasn’t even Lance and Keith’s bodies or their faces but he felt that mental connection which constantly reared its head as panic, fear, shock and affection and love flowed back and forth between the two. 

Together. 

As long as we’re together. 

Keith didn’t need to respond, at least not with words, because they simply rushed forward. 

It must have been an odd sight, seeing two buff and muscled men making out near a dead emperor in a massive crater with perfectly clean clothes. 

In fact, it was apparently such an odd sight, that a small crowd had formed. Though that might have been because of the crater, glass, destroyed campus and loud explosion. Just maybe.

Lance and Keith slowly turned around towards the crowd, lips breaking apart and the two springing away from one another. “Fuck,” Keith whispered. 

Call me Jonathan. 

You weeb.

Says the one who literally used Bakugou in a life and death situation. 

Besides, I’ve never even seen it I just know the memes. 

“What is going on?” Came an accented and familiar voice that was pushing through the crowd which was not doing much besides gaping at the image before them.

Keith and Lance whipped toward one another in panic as they realized who was walking in their direction. 

When Allura finally appeared in front of the crowd, Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, Adam and Coran were by her side, the entire gang of Voltron’s half formed team bracketing her. 

Fuck we are so screwed. 

“What the fuck?” Pidge nearly screamed, their voice high as they took in the damage. 

Hunk’s mouth was hanging open, the boy probably having some gastrointestinal issues at this point. 

Shiro and Adam were silent, eyes wide with shock as they absorbed the scene and scanned the area. Adam nudged Shiro and tilted his head towards the two boys, causing the Black Paladin’s eyes to narrow and Lance’s heart to begin to race. 

He leaned over to Allura and whispered something in her ear. 

Now the entire team was facing the boys and Lance was suddenly very glad they had shapeshifted because once that set began to stare, so did everyone who had approached.

I think it’s time we make a dramatic exit.

We’ve made our appearance so we can bounce safely. 

Yes let me do it!

We’re still low on magic so be careful. 

Lance closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the elemental powers in his bones. 

The wind once again began to rise, this time so harsh that it created a near sand storm, blinding everyone with rubble and dust and making it difficult for people to remain standing. Pidge and Hunk were waving their arms madly and attempting to cover their eyes. 

Shiro, Adam and Allura were well trained, and they began to fight through the wind to try to reach the people at the epicenter, probably fully knowing what this wind meant and needing answers. 

But it was too strong, Keith had begun to use his own magic to contribute to Lance’s so by the time Allura managed to land in the crater, the two boys were gone, had shapeshifted back into their own forms and were now walking back to their dorm as if they had been one of the crowd. 

While around the corner they used the last of their magic to change their clothes once more, Lance now in a pale blue shirt and Keith in a white one that was oversized to Lance’s great amusement. 

Once Keith’s ridiculous mom jeans were once again nearly shredded black skinny jeans and Lance was sporting a grey pair, the two relaxed. 

Keith leaned against the wall, his head tilting back and eyes closed as they sat in silence. 

And then Lance began to giggle. 

It was slow at first, but soon both Keith and Lance were nearly falling over in laughter, breathless in a way that felt like elation and relief. 

“Ho-holy shit!” Lance exclaimed, clutching his stomach as it began to hurt to continue laughing.  He leaned into Keith for support, Keith who was leaning against the wall, eyes crinkled and wet. 

As they continued to laugh, exchanging a few strangled words, Lance felt his eyes prick with tears and noticed a similar sheen in Keith’s. 

The laughter continued but Lance found himself unconsciously touching every part of Keith’s body, trying to feel his solid form and trying to touch any free space possible. 

Keith was doing the same. 

Slowly but surely the laughter quieted, Lance’s body began to relax as it became more solidly connected to Keith’s, fully pressing the boy to the wall. 

Neither mentioned how Keith’s laughter slowly turned into soft cries or how he buried his face into Lance’s neck, his arms desperately winding around the Cuban’s shoulder’s in a tight hug.

Neither mentioned Lance’s tight grip on Keith’s hips or the tears rolling down his cheek. 

It must have been an odd sight, two boys standing so close that they almost seemed to be one, bodies shaking with soft sobs. 

Pidge was in shock. 

They had never before found themselves rendered speechless, always had something to say whether it be an incredulous comment, analytical thought or even a statistic. 

But what could they possibly say about this. 

About an explosion on school grounds, so big and loud and destructive. 

About those shrieks that had carried across the campus and had reached the dorms causing every single person to look to the same place, in the same direction, at the same time in confusion. 

About the shards of glass glinting in the light. 

They heard themselves call out “what the fuck?!” but it felt like an out of body experience. 

They felt their arms wave automatically to shield their eyes and protect themself.

But the two men who had been there previously, were gone. 

Had disappeared in the wind. 

And all that was left was destruction. 

Shiro, Adam and Allura had all made their way to the center and were now blocking the others’ view, Coran was attempting to stop the crowd from moving forward or interfering with a strong energy barrier. 

Pidge grasped Hunk’s arm and dragged him into the crater to see what had the three young adults standing so still. 

Beside them, Hunk gasped, stopping in his tracks. 

Understandable really, because at their feet was Zarkon. 

And he was dead. 

Pidge walked up to the body, brushing off Shiro’s fingers that tried to stop them from pressing their own to the man’s pulse. 

Allura looked to them for confirmation.

Pidge nodded and everyone was silent.

“We need to go,” Allura murmured softly, her eyes unable to move from the body in front of her, as if she couldn’t look away, as if it was impossible. 

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed, but he didn’t move. Pidge watched as his hand gripped Adam’s tightly. 

“So what’s all the conundrum about? Could it-“

Coran, Coran who was never quiet, fell silent, his eyes saucers. “Oh,” he breathed out. 

For the next few minutes no one spoke and the only sound was the shouts of the people attempting to cross the barrier and see inside. 

“Who could have done this?” Allura asked, pacing back and forth across Hunk’s dormitory. 

Pidge tilted their head with consideration  “Well I assume it was those men,” they said.

They were still very much in shock. 

Ever since nearly losing their father and brother, Pidge had been determined to end this fight. To bring about a future where rebellion wasn’t necessary. 

But someone had beaten them to it. And they had no clue how, why or who. 

“But who were they?” Allura looked around the room from person to person but only got shrugs in response. 

Hunk was freaking out, “they killed the Emperor! The Emperor is dead! How is this possible?” He began to mutter and wring his hands. 

From the corner, Adam stepped up, his shoulder pressed against Shiro’s. “In all my time as a Voltron Coalition Commander I have never seen those two men.”

“They kind of looked like they were from that show-“

“Not the time, Coran!” Allura cut him off, voice shrill. “I also have never seen them.”

“It could be the Blade?” Hunk offered, stiffening when everyone turned to him. 

Nodding, Pidge pointed toward him. “He has a point, we know very little about them, but they’ve always been a little suspicious, and we know they have men on campus.”

But Coran shook his head. “While it is possible, this does not seem like their normal methods.”

“We know so little about them we don’t even know their normal methods!” Pidge protested. 

Allura was also shaking her head. “We’ve worked with them enough to know they are far more interested in stealth than outright killing the Emperor.”  

“Hey,” Hunk cut in. “We could ask Lance?”

Brightening at the idea, Allura opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a loud thud as a lamp crashed to the ground and everyone turned their head toward the source of the noise. 

Shiro, a normally very graceful man, had stumbled backwards and knocked the lamp over, his eyes were wide and panicked.

“ Keith.”

The Black Paladin was nearly breathless and Pidge had never before seen Shiro so terrified, worried or panicked. 

Immediately Adam stiffened and his hand reached to clutch Shiro’s arm as the two shared looks of alarm. 

Pidge cocked their head, “What about him?”

Shiro rounded on them, his eyes scared in a way that was so unfamiliar. 

“If they went after Zarkon, they might have gone after him too.”

Pidge’s eyes widened in understanding, drawing in a shaky breath. 

“Well good!” Allura exclaimed, and Pidge nearly gasped at the lack of tact coming from someone generally very diplomatic. Even they, socially awkward as they were, knew that wouldn’t blow over well. But Allura had always been blind when it came to the monarchy, the Galra. “If the line ends with him then there will be no Empire.”

“With all due respect,” Shiro said icily, his voice colder than they had ever heard. “If you think the death of my brother is good then I’m afraid I have to question my loyalty.”

Adam stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “Allura, Keith is 19 and he’s never done anything wrong except be born into the wrong family.”

“Nothing wrong? The only reason he isn’t murdering people left and right is because he was born nearly powerless!!”

At this sentiment, nearly everyone disagreed, even Coran who with his accented voice began to speak, “Allura-“ before she cut him off. 

“You guys disagree?” She asked, as if completely shocked. “You're Voltron , you were formed to end him.” She looked around from person to person. 

“He’s one of my best friends,” Adam said simply. 

Shiro had calmed slightly but his stance was determined. “He’s my brother .”

“With all due respect,” Coran said, unusually quiet. “They were formed to end the Empire and Zarkon, never Keith.”

Allura’s disbelieving expression turned to Pidge who merely shrugged, “Keith doesn’t deserve to die.”

“It would break Lance,” Hunk cut in. “Besides he doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Break Lance?” Allura asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How? He hates him just as much as I do! Lance specially asked me to look into him because he was suspicious.”

Pidge snorted, “well he has definitely changed his tune.”

Allura’s eyes narrowed as if she was trying to figure out what that meant. 

“All of you? Voltron managed to crumble so easily because you were fooled by the Emperor’s son?”

Pidge now found a similar annoyance rising in their throat, surprised at their own protectiveness considering they had just before felt the same way as Allura. 

And Pidge understood where she was coming from, she had lost her entire faction to the Galra and she had no evidence of Keith’s nature, but Pidge still felt themself opening their mouth in protest. 

“Look, we haven’t crumbled , we’re still here standing, he hasn’t betrayed us.”

“ Yet .”

“He would never ,” Shiro said nearly vehemently at the same time as Pidge scoffed loudly and muttered under their breath with exasperation “Are we forgetting that the Emperor is fucking dead?” 

“Besides,” Hunk said optimistically, attempting to calm the two sides. “Isn’t he not very smart or powerful so he’s not really a threat is he?”

“Maybe, but-”

“Why does this matter?” Shiro cut in, “We need to know if he is okay. I need to know. ” The normally calm leader could not hide the desperation in his voice. 

“And we need Lance,” Adam added. 

Taking a moment to examine every resolute face in the room, Allura conceded. “Fine, bring them here.”

Shiro whipped out his phone, pressing a few buttons as everyone watched him quietly. 

There were a couple of rings, but eventually someone picked up, their voice on speaker phone. 

“ Hello?”

“Keith?” Shiro asked, breathless and tense. 

“Shiro?”

There was a loud release of breath as the Black Paladin nearly cried with relief. “Thank god,” he breathed out. 

“Shiro? What’s wrong? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

Pidge nearly smiled fondly at Keith’s immediate panic. Nearly.  

“I’m fine, but Keith I need you to come to Hunk’s dormitory.”

“Ok sure, b-“

“What you got there, Samurai?”

When the other familiar voice cut in, Pidge and Hunk released twin breaths of relief, grinning at one another happily. Hunk looked like he was going to ask a question, most likely to inquire why they were there together, but he reconsidered, probably because those two were always together recently.

“It’s Shiro. Apparently we gotta go.”

Shiro exchanged a few more words with the two before hanging up, all the while ignoring Allura’s judgemental gaze. 

The conversation didn’t go on for long, and soon Lance and Keith were on their way to the dorm. 

Nobody even noticed that Keith had never asked them why. 

Keith and Lance were hovering outside, not quite ready to go in, both fully aware of what conversation was coming. 

“Are we gonna tell them?” Lance asked nervously, transferring his weight from one foot to the other and leaning forward to whisper. 

“We have to,” Keith reasoned, “Like I said before, Galra are going to fucking swarm here like angry wasps and they’ll sting every fucking person on that fucking list and shockingly- not really- Allura, Shiro and Coran are all on that list. And you just know the rest aren’t safe here.”

“I can’t believe we have to leave,” Lance said with awe, electing to ignore Keith’s whole wasp spiel in favor of a sudden wave of nostalgia that felt like watching the season finale of his favorite show when the creators inevitably decide to have everyone go their separate ways thus breaking his heart in the process because it’s the end of an era. 

Lance flinched lightly in shock when he felt a dull thud as Keith dropped his forehead onto the Cuban’s shoulder and buried his face there. “I know,” came the muffled reply and Lance was suddenly struck with the distinctly sad idea that this campus was probably truly the only home Keith had ever had. 

With fierce determination, Lance resolved to change that and he took the first step, which consisted of wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and burying his face into the hair that was far too soft for his own sake. 

He refused to acknowledge the wetness of his eyes. 

“Time to go in?” he offered lightly after a few minutes wrapped in one another’s embrace. 

Keith simply sighed, tightening his grip before releasing the Cuban and taking a step back to breathe, “yeah.”

Lance reached out to lightly stroke Keith’s cheek with his thumb before pecking him quickly on the lips and relishing in the way red spread over his boyfriend’s face. “Then let’s go!”

And he knocked on the door. 

The light voices that previously could be heard through the door came to an abrupt stop, replaced by the sound of footsteps as someone approached. 

The door swung open and the two boys were greeted by a clearly on edge Shiro who took a moment to stare at them before immediately pulling both into a tight hug that had Keith protesting lightly. 

“Thank god you two are okay,” Shiro said, his eyes bright with relief before he let them go and began to lead them into the center of the dorm where the rest were waiting. 

Immediately Lance began to realize that there was going to be a problem, because Pidge and Hunk despite looking slightly relieved were also regarding the two with an air of uncertainty and even worry from Hunk’s end.

And Allura. She was staring daggers at Keith, distrust and hatred seeping through her expression. 

Lance almost wanted to laugh because Keith (who he remembers talking to about Allura being far too obvious in her hatred) was entirely nonplussed, his face not changing a bit at the vehement glare. In fact, Lance was willing to bet the boy was struggling not to roll his eyes. 

Coran and Adam were the most neutral, with the latter approaching to pat the two of them on the back as a sign of either solidarity or as a “good job being alive”. 

There was a moment of brief silence as it became readily apparent that no one knew what to say until Shiro, always the straightforward leader, finally stepped forward to announce, “Keith…” He stalled as if attempting to figure out what he was going to say. “I have news. About your father.”

Lance stifled a mild laugh at Keith’s expression, faux curiosity plastered on his face. 

“What about him?”

Shiro opened his mouth to speak, his face a mixture of resignation and pity, but before he could get the words out Allura said, “He’s dead.”

Her voice wasn’t cruel, Allura wasn’t a cruel person, but it wasn’t kind either… it was simply cold, devoid of any sympathy. 

“Allura!” Shiro reprimanded, his protectiveness of his little brother shining through, and he stepped toward Keith, placing a calming hand on the boy's shoulder. “It’s true, I’m sorry Keith I know how much you wanted to mend your relationship with him.”

Lance snorted loudly before slapping a hand over his mouth as everyone’s heads snapped toward him, eyes wide and expressions disbelieving. 

“Lance,” Keith said, his voice also devoid of any emotion but his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Do you think the tragic death of my father is something funny? Do you find the death of the one true ruler, the high and mighty Emperor, laughable?”

Everyone in the room seemed to be exchanging unsure glances, as if they weren’t sure what they were meant to do or meant to say. Shiro seemed like he wanted to comfort the boy spewing the distraught words.

Laying it on thick there, Keith. 

I just killed my father, give me a break. 

We are definitely going to have PTSD after this whole encounter. 

Oh yeah for sure but step one can be winning this war and step two can be therapy. 

Let me joke for now. 

Thought joking was my thing, you thief. 

I suppose you can take deadpan wit and I can have the mantle of super charming—and also really, and I mean really—hot goof. 

Sure. 

You don’t sound too sure there buddy. 

“Keep laughing, Lance, my father will hear about this,” Keith said- pretending to reel backward and say in a cracked voice, “or I guess... he won’t.” 

It was absolutely ridiculous. A blatant Harry Potter reference dropped in what should be a somber moment? The audacity really. 

And Lance had never been so proud. 

Keith collapsed face first on the mattress before flipping himself over dramatically to reveal his expression which was a picture of agony and so alike Lance’s own dramatics that the “distraught” boy must have been directly channeling his fond-of-exaggeration boyfriend. 

“How could this happen?! Oh Daddy!” He cried, throwing a hand over his eyes and Lance broke, nearly shrieking with breathless laughter, tears once again forming in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, Samurai, you killed me.” Lance gasped between breaths. “‘Daddy’ you gotta be kidding me.”

Beyond the breathless and probably slightly deranged laughter of two boys who desperately wanted to pretend like what had happened— what they had done— wasn’t pulling at their minds, wasn't ripping them apart piece by piece, the room was completely silent, the other occupants merely watching them with confusion and hesitant worry, occasionally exchanging wary glances.

“Um, what the hell is happening?” Pidge demanded, stepping forward only to be pulled back by the collar, their arms waving slightly to avoid losing balance. 

Once stabilized, the Green Paladin began to angrily glare at their aggressor, sitting down on the floor to pout when Shiro chose not to acknowledge their irritation. Hunk patted their back as if to console them, but even he could do nothing but gape and hesitantly ask “Lance?”. 

Shiro reached out to Keith before reconsidering and just glancing toward Adam as if to ask him what he was supposed to do. Adam merely shrugged, looking just as lost as the rest of the room. 

When their laughter finally died down, Pidge stepped forward, “Guys, seriously. Explain. Now.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes and tampering his mirth, Lance held his hands out placatingly, “Alright, alright, chill.”

“Basically“—Keith propped himself up on his elbows so he could address the room fully— “we already knew.”

A ripple of shock passed throughout the group, the most elite members of the Rebellion standing in a school dormitory gaping at the two most powerful teenagers. 

It was really quite a sight. 

“How?” Shiro questioned.

Pidge shook their head, their voice rising as they pondered, “how is not the most important part Shiro, if they knew and Keith-“ 

“Oh you’re right!” Hunk gasped, coming to the same conclusion Pidge had but also cutting them off. 

“Am I missing something?” Shiro asked bewildered as the two paladins pointed at one another with wide eyes. 

Adam and Coran nodded as well, both commenting on their own confusion and asking the other two to explain.

The leader of the Voltron Coalition had other thoughts, however, as her eyes had never strayed from Keith’s and she quickly interrupted, “Lance, speak. Not you.”

Keith scoffed loudly, letting his head fall backward and roll slightly along with his eyes. “Oh piss off,” he muttered with irritation. “You heard her highness, guess it’s up to you Sharpshooter.”

Lance grimaced, “guys it’s really not my story to tell.” Deep in his stomach he felt a sharp pang of annoyance at Allura even though he knew it wasn’t really her fault. 

“No it’s fine, be my guest,” Keith waved him off, smirking. “You can tell them your side.”

Fuck you. 

“Well I guess we should start with…” The Cuban trailed off and tilted his head in consideration. 

After a moment of the group growing progressively more anxious as they waited for answers, Shiro suggested, “Maybe just explain how you knew the Emperor was dead.”

“Yeah but that’s a whole story.”

They all fell silent once again until Pidge stepped up to bat. “What about explaining to us why Keith is laughing at his father’s death.”

Keith and Lance exchanged glances as Shiro, Adam and Coran released small “oh’s” of understanding before their faces scrunched in confusion again. 

“That’s… also difficult to explain.”

Pidge groaned in frustration, raising a fist up threateningly until Hunk piped up, “Why don’t you just start at the beginning?”

Lance looked at Keith who shrugged. “Well strap your seatbelts, this is going to be a wild ride. It all started when I first saw Keith walking into class. He was really hot and I was really excited because who doesn’t like hot people even if they have mullets. But then-“

Keith interrupted him, “Sharpshooter, babe, fast forward please.”

The group nodded their agreement, Hunk adding, “yeah we all know this part anyway,” much to Lance’s embarrassment and Keith’s satisfaction. 

“Ok then I guess it started when Hunk and I snuck out and saw Keith sneaking out as well.”

Shiro looked toward Keith disapprovingly but the other merely smiled in amusement, still leaning back casually. 

“He seemed like really sus, so I decided we needed to follow him just in case he was like plotting some grand assasination or something.”

Keith rolled his eyes. 

“He eventually walked into a library which was very very weird because… I mean have you seen his grades. This boy is not studying in his freetime— Ow! Keith that hurt!— anyway, when he walked out he was holding some book. I don’t remember what it was called but it had something to do with weapons.”

“That book was fucking useless!” Keith cut in with frustration, as if he couldn’t hold back his complete annoyance with the book. “Sorry, irrelevant, please continue.”

Lance side eyed him for a second before taking in a deep breath to resume his story, the rest of the audience listening with rapt attention, even Hunk who had been there for this part. 

“So I was even more sus but no one would believe me and everyone kept going on and on about how Keith wasn’t a threat, how he was just stupid and weak”— Keith furrowed his eyebrows, lips forming a confused pout— “but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.”

“And that’s when you came to me” Allura nodded her understanding. 

“Exactly, but you’re reaction was expected, I mean your hatred for Keith was pretty obvious-“

Keith barked out a laugh, causing Lance’s lips to pull lightly at the edges. 

“-but when I asked Kolivan for Keith’s file, that’s when I got really confused.”

“File?” Shiro asked, speaking for the first time since the story began. 

“The Blades have files on everyone important in the war,” Lance explained, “but the-“

“The Blades have massive databases on everyone ?” Adam asked, shocked, “even the Coalition doesn’t have that!”

“Yeah, yeah, old news,” Lance tried to move on, but the rest of the group halted him with noises of protest. On the bed Keith chuckled lightly even as his boyfriend glared at him. “Fine! No not everyone, just everyone relevant, you guys are all there, obviously. That’s actually how I found out Pidge was the Green Paladin!”

Allura shook her head, “I knew they were holding back on us.”

“I mean,” Lance shrugged, “you two are different organizations, you can't share everything, it would be a security threat.”

Adam nodded, “and the Blades have always been a wary and secretive bunch considering they specialize in infiltration.”

“ Yeah they do,” Keith said under his breath in amusement, clearly referencing his own affiliation and most definitely getting intense satisfaction at seeing the others flounder at his words. 

“You knew about Pidge already?” Allura demanded, but her words fell on deaf ears as the rest of the group continued asking questions. 

“Guys! Guys!” Lance said, “Let me finish the story!”

Hunk, who along with Pidge was familiar with this part of Lance’s story as he had told the Paladins this information before, was not in the same state of shock and thus ushered him to continue. “So what about this was so strange?”

“Thank you for asking Hunk, despite the fact that most agents aren’t given access to the database, it wasn’t so unusual for a superior like Kolivan to give an agent access to a single file, but this time he flat out refused me. And when I was like ‘bruh why the fuck not’ he said it’s because there was nothing of importance. So I’m like, ‘fuck you!’ and decided to sneak in.”

“You snuck into the Blade? Lance, my boy, that's a dangerous move!” Coran admonished, to the apparent agreement of Shiro and Adam who seemed equally disapproving. Lance dismissed their concerns with a mere wave. 

“But anyway, when I finally found Keith’s file, I was shocked to find that Kolivan hadn’t lied when he said there was nothing of importance because there was nothing at all. Keith’s file was completely empty. Also his name was listed as ‘Keith Galra’ and that’s just fucking hideous, I mean-“

“Lance!” Allura’s accented voice interrupted. “It was empty ?”

Keith smirked as Lance nodded. “I know right ? Strange as fuck! The file was as bare as bones even in places that I knew should have been filled out. I mean everyone this side of the planet knows that Keith can only control one element and yet his powers, strengths, weaknesses all of them were listed as unknown. Everything except his affiliations which only said the Galra and like duh. ”

“And the other files weren’t like this?” Shiro questioned. 

“Nope, I looked through many others and they were filled, some an inch thick listing everything from their magical abilities to fucking allergies!”

Allura shook her head, “they didn’t even list any speculations?”

“Nope! In fact at the bottom it said something along the lines of “we ain’t even sure about this shit!” which like how?”

The entire group seemed to be on the edge of their seats except for Keith who was leisurely watching the rest of the group panic. 

“Keith!” Shiro finally rounded on him, “What the hell?”

“You just gotta listen, Shiro,” he said bemusedly. 

“So I get back from the Blade and now I’m more confused than ever and shit happens but nothing major until I'm assigned my next mission: to sneak into the Galran Residence and steal the Chaotic Bayard.”

The room, besides the few who knew, gasped, Shiro looking distressed as he protested, “that’s so dangerous! How could they send a kid to do that?”

“I’m a respected agent regardless of my age” Lance scowled. 

“Still,” Adam bit his bottom lip, unsure, “it’s a risky move.”

“It was assumed to be low risk since the day and route weren’t busy, but that’s not important. What is important is that when I got there I heard someone fighting down the hall and low and behold there’s some dude wearing a suit of armor like the blade suit and not like it at the same time” —Pidge cut in with a small “Relevance?” but they were ignored— “wearing a black mask that only covers half your face like Link in the Sheikah armor, you feel?”

Pidge, Keith and Hunk nodded while Shiro, Adam, Allura and Coran shook their heads in confusion. 

“And I’m like this cocky motherfucker! The Blades have us use full masks and he out here barely disguising himself? A bold move!”— Lance could feel Keith itching to protest his words—“ before I see his eyes and I’m like wait, I know those eyes.”

The entire group waited with baited breath, with the exceptions of Hunk, Pidge and Keith who were exchanging subtly amused glances— fully aware of who Lance was describing and excited to see the others’ reactions to it. 

“I mean I had only spent half my recent life thinking about those eyes, those undeniably—despite it being seemingly impossible— violet eyes.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from multiple people in the room, Shiro, Adam, Allura and Coran all whipping around to look at a grinning Keith who waved his hands as if saying “ta da!” and said “surprise!”

“ Keith was there ?”

“ Keith can sword fight?”

“Why were you sneaking into your own home?”

“These were all thoughts I had as well,” Lance nodded along to the questions and Pidge and Hunk commented “Same.”

“Lance!” Allura exclaimed shrilly, “Why was Keith there?”

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there. So I’m like, ‘Keith! What the hell are you doing here?’ and, being the jerk he is, he’s like ‘no you!’ and at this point in time he knows who I am and has a sword up to my throat” —Allura shoots Keith an extremely dirty look at that—“so I’m like ‘I’m here to get the Bayard for Allura and the Blade’, all tough and no nonsense you know.”

“To be fair,” Keith finally joined the conversation, “I already knew that you just confirmed what I speculated, and you confirmed it in a very untough more squeaky type way.” 

Lance elected to move on without addressing his comments. 

“And Keith over here is like ‘same!’ and this is extremely confusing to me because why does Keith need to steal something his family owns?”

Shiro bounced his head slightly, scratching his scalp in evident perplexion. 

“So I ask and he’s like my parents won’t let me touch it and I’m like great, he knows I’m a member of the resistance and all because he’s pissed mommy and daddy won’t let him touch the weapon that he won’t even be able to use!”

Through their bond Lance felt the sharp stab of irritation coming from Keith who had to deal with Shiro eyeing him for that statement. 

“Is this why you failed the mission?” Coran asked. 

Remembering that he had lied to them so he could keep the Bayard, Lance winced, “Well actually… I got a little angry at Keith—“

“A little?”

“—and we were gonna fight, and I would have definitely won—“

“In your dreams.”

“—when we heard a loud noise and Keith freaks and is like ‘that’s Sendak!’”— small noises of worry passed through the group at the mention of that name—“so we start running and fighting sentries until we reach a dead end.”

Keith hummed as he remembered the story and Shiro and Adam continued to look like worried parents who were being told that their son got caught up in some massive crime scheme. 

“With barely any time, I’m freaking out and I don't know what to do, when Keith offers a solution. He’s warning me that I might not like the option and I’m over here thinking anything not to die and then he says—“

Lance paused, exchanging nervous glances with Keith, Hunk and Pidge as he drew in a breath and revealed his biggest secret to four more people, more than doubling the total people who knew. 

Do it.

“He says, ‘Lance, turn it into wood.’”

The Cuban watched as Shiro’s face scrunched up in confusion, as Allura and Coran’s eyebrows furrowed, and as Adam tilted his head to the side, before his eyes widened considerably. 

“ Lance,” Adam said emphatically, breathing out in realization as the implications of Keith’s words dawned on him. 

Shiro was the next to understand and he sat down abruptly in shock. 

Allura and Coran seemed to understand at the same moment, and both gasped, faces the very picture of shock. 

“Is it just matter or,” Shiro ventured. 

Lance smiled, “nah. I suppose it’s about time you all knew that I am the Chaos, or actually, well we will get to that part later.”

“All this time?” Allura asked, while Shiro and Adam chose to remain silent. Lance merely bobbed his head. 

Coran was the quickest to recover from shock, slapping Lance hard on the back so that he lurched forward, “Well this is good news! We were always worried that the Chaos would be someone unreliable.”

Allura could only faintly nod. 

“Wait,” Shiro said, “how did Keith know when none of us did?”

Keith laughed, “maybe cause you guys are stupid.” His best friends shot him twin glares which made him laugh even more. “Let’s just say I recognized a pattern.”

“And you two knew too?” Shiro asked Hunk and Pidge. 

“Yup I’ve known since the very beginning.”

“He told me just recently.”

“Huh.”

Lance held up his hands, one clutching a marble and turning it to a jello like substance and the other causing the air to glimmer. The entire group awed at the demonstration. 

“Back to the story,” Lance began only to be cut off by Shiro’s exclamation of “there's more?”

“Indeed there is, much more. So we steal the Bayard and me being the Chaos I’m like I can’t wait to use this. I’m also having a heart attack because my absolute worst rival and son of my absolute worst enemy is one of two people to know my darkest secret and I have no clue who he has told or how he found out. And Keith’s not being much help throwing me off guard with his letting me hold the Bayard and what not.” 

“My bad.”

“So we get out of there and I run into some dude- who I am just now realizing was, never mind-- and I finally get back to the room where you”— Lance pointed at Shiro— “ are admonishing Keith for, I don’t know, sucking?”

Shiro opened his mouth to protest this but closed it upon consideration. 

“So the Bayard which I have risked everything for doesn't even operate for me, which is more than a little frustrating, so I just leave it to Keith—“

At this, Allura made an indignant noise, looking at Lance as if he was insane. “You what?”

“I mean he asked and he kinda held my life in his hands… so. But anyway I decide that the best course of action is to befriend Keith which is why we started getting closer.” Lance gestured at Shiro and Adam who nodded their understanding. 

“Yeah he wouldn’t leave me alone,” Keith groused, chuckling when Lance shoved his side. 

“I get the obligatory ‘watch out Keith’s an ass’ speech from many people”—Keith scowled—“ and even a ‘please help save him from his own evilness’”—Keith glared at Shiro—“before I really start to reconsider my stance on him. Soon enough I realize whoops I love him and then I’m just floundering like—“

Lance trailed off as he realized the entire room had gone silent, staring at Lance as if he was Copernicus revealing the Earth was round, jaws unhinged. Keith was blushing furiously and he looked away in embarrassment. 

“Oh yeah,” Lance said, realizing what had the group so shocked. “We’re dating.”

Allura sighed and hung her head in disappointment, but she was the only one unhappy about this result. 

“Fucking finally!” Pidge exclaimed, grinning as they reached a fist out to give Lance a solid bump. 

Hunk was immensely happy and he proved his support for the two of them by launching himself to grasp the two boys in his arms in a warm hug. 

Shiro and Adam were smiling warmly at them and even Coran was saying something about young love. 

“How’d this happen?” Shiro asked, watching an embarrassed Keith with great amusement. 

“Spoilers!” Lance said, gesturing at them to be quiet so he could narrate the rest of his adventures. “So after that realization and subsequent freakout, I am confronted by some less than ideal news when I overhear-“

“Eavesdrop.”

“Keith talking to someone on the phone about a plan to assassinate Allura.”

It was honestly a surprise Allura didn’t pounce on Keith in that very moment but the entire group quieted considerably. 

“So obviously we round up the entire gang, I find myself realizing that every one of the Emperor’s son’s friends is a rebel”— Keith smiled in amusement—“and we easily take the assassins down with the help of Kolivan who already knew of the plot. But when I see my commander not coming to fight even after he’s played his part I decide to follow him and find out what’s up. And imagine my surprise when I see him greet an Akira that looks suspiciously like a Keith.”

The entire group turns to stare at Keith who merely wiggles his fingers and comments “I’m an enigma.”

“So this motherfucker tells Kolivan to go back and follow the plan and walks in to confront, of all people, Sendak.”

At this point, everyone in the group is regarding Keith with a critical eye and in a new perspective, but they choose to let Lance continue in hopes that he will answer their questions. 

“I follow but decide to stay hidden to get the inside scoop. The two dish out some words that go along the lines of ‘get outta my way your dad sent me’ ‘no’ ‘you weak traitor I’m going to kill you’ ‘lol’—“

“Is that a word for word transcription?”

“Yes, yes it is. Then they decide to start fighting and I’m getting real worried ‘cause the boy I’m more than a little gone for is apparently not evil and also facing someone entirely too powerful. It was a lot for me to handle.”

Lance felt Keith’s thumb rub soothing circles on his palms before clasping their hands together in solidarity. 

“And one minute I’m worried Keith is about to be crushed by a circle of stone and the next I’m having a panic attack because Keith is controlling all the elements.”

And once again Lance delighted in the shock of his companions, this time getting to see the surprise painted on Pidge and Hunk’s faces as they most definitely thought they knew the whole story. 

Shiro spoke up, clearly confused and massaging his head as he weakly said, “But—“ 

“And that’s not all!” Lance continued, hoping to save their shock for the biggest reveal of them all. “Because Sendak runs him through and as Keith should be dying he mutters an absolutely ridiculous line from Queen of all things and kills Sendak! And when I finally catch sight of his wound, the massive and fatal wound, it’s gone and all that’s left is blood.”

Understandably, connecting the dots for this part of the story was a lot harder than the rest, especially considering the conclusion went against everything they had been taught, directly contradicting the myth the Empire had drilled into their minds. In fact, he was about to explain it to them and was gearing up for a big reveal before Allura spoke. 

“You’re a shapeshifter ,” she said, voice dripping with shock and awe. “How? They are all supposed to be dead.”

Keith shrugged, “as far as I know, I’m the last, the only descendent.” 

“Allura,” Coran commented, his voice unsteady for the first time seemingly ever, eyes as wide as saucers. “He isn’t just a Shapeshifter.”

There was a gasp. “That’s not possible.”

Keith smiled, “It is.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

Allura sat slowly and stiffly into the desk chair, completely at a loss for words. At least her hostility had disappeared, Lance reasoned to himself. 

Everyone else had lost it. 

“Um what was that again?” 

“So the Shapeshifters aren’t extinct? How?”

“How can you be both an elemental and a shapeshifter?”

“This is a lot of information.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“We can explain it,” Keith exclaimed, “but in time. ”

Lance waited for a second before charging on. “Sendak dies, I confront Keith and he tells me his story and explains everything I needed to know from what he is to what I am. We become closer yada yada, Keith pretends to be Kinkade and my boyfriend so he can save them from revealing their faction powers, Keith shows up as a fat Kinkade, Veronica ruins everything by confronting me and “Kinkade” with my love for Keith, thus revealing to Keith my love for him, we get together and we come home.”

“And this brings us to the present?” Shiro asks, waiting for Lance and Keith’s confirmation. 

This time Keith decides to speak. “Upon my return to campus, I am greeted by my loving father who essentially accuses me of being a spy and beats me.”

Shiro shoots to his feet in anger, calmed only by Adam who also looks absolutely furious. 

Allura and Coran still seem lost, Pidge and Hunk worried. 

“I arrive, having been alerted by some mental connection,” Lance continues, ignoring the confusion about their telepathy, “tell Zarkon to fuck off and he yaps a little bit about how Keith is a loser and I’m like I know but he’s my loser.”

Keith kicked his shin before butting in, “so we fight a little, Lance reveals his identity as the Chaos and fights a bit more—“

“But then, Keith gets fatally wounded.”

“And I’m immobilized on the weapon so I can't pull myself off and shapeshift.”

“So as I’m thinking the love of my life and basically my soulmate, wait till you hear Keith’s legend, is dying, I—“

“He screams, a nasty scream that releases something until all of a sudden he’s using the elements.”

At this point it seems like the group shouldn’t be capable of shock anymore, in fact Shiro looks like he’s about to faint, but they still find themselves absolutely reeling as if they had just been dumped into an ice bath. 

“So while Lance is screaming and destroying school property I change the matter of the sword I’m dying from, come back to kick his flat ass—“

“Then Keith comes up with some wild plan—“

“We change all the puddles to nitroglycerin—“

“Force him into it—“

“Release some sparks throughout the ground—“

“And boom goes to the dynamite,” Lance concluded. “And that is the complete story of how I found my soulmate, gained two new powers and telepathy, learned my soulmate was an anime nerd, and then blew up the Emperor.”

“Ground zero style,” Keith grinned. 

“So let me get this straight,” Shiro said, voice tired. “You two can both use every faction power—“

“Yup.”

“Uh huh.”

“—can communicate mentally—“

“Full on thoughts and sentences!”

“Emotions too, unfortunately.”

“— and killed Zarkon?”

“That we did.”

“Whoops?”

“I’m too old for this,” Shiro said, distressed, Adam wrapping his arms to comfort the Black Paladin.

There was silence as everyone digested the news. Allura opened and closed her mouth, but couldn’t seem to get any words out. Coran was flailing like a fish out of water, Pidge was rendered speechless and Hunk looked sick. 

“So what exactly is the story behind your guys’ powers?” Pidge asked after a long pause, their curiosity plain in their eyes. Others in the group groaned, not wanting more information than they had already been presented with. 

“Alright Samurai, now it's your turn.”  

By the time Keith finished recounting his side of the tale and the legend of the Chaos and the Calm—during which the groups’ eyes had grown progressively wider, save for Allura and Coran who seemed to have already been familiar with it—both Keith and Lance knew that their time was running short. Soon enough the Emperor’s men would arrive and inevitably begin searching for Keith and the others. 

“Well that, that was a lot to take in,” Shiro said, motionless. 

The young man looked far too tired and as if he had aged ten years in a day, rubbing at his temples as if he had a headache and the small circles were somehow a magical cure. His partner was patting his back but looked just as lost.

Undoubtedly, Allura was struggling the most with the overload of information that had just slapped her in the face and she couldn’t stop looking at Keith. 

Suspicion still deeply rooted in her expression, Allura shook her head, opening her mouth to say something but then seemingly reconsidering it, shutting her mouth with a small clack of the teeth. 

Pidge, sensing that no one else knew how to move on, how to process, or how to respond carefully ventured, “so what now?”

And with a sad, pained smile, Lance answered. “Now we run.”

In the end, leaving everything behind, saying goodbye to his dorm room, to Sal’s, to the campus, only took about an hour.

Lance would be lying if he claimed not to have been shedding quiet tears the entire time, little silent sobs wracking his body as he fingered the sleeves of his favorite jacket before folding it up and placing it in his duffel bag which only contained his most valuable memories and a few key articles of clothing.

Keith would be lying if he claimed that his hands weren’t shaking as he pulled his red crop top off the hanger and stuffed it into his backpack through blurry eyes. On his bed he left his old armor; around his neck, dangling on the chain was a beautiful ring.

Both would be lying if they pretended that they weren’t so completely, irrefutably, undeniably relieved that the other was crying too.

In one day, Keith had killed his adoptive father, Lance had killed the Emperor, both had lost their home and both, despite not knowing it at the time, had gained a new family.

Latching the final few straps in place, Keith and Lance stepped out of their respective rooms.

Keith looked up and down Lance’s form as the Cuban twirled around once with his hand gesturing dramatically to his new armor, pulling a soft laugh out of the normally broody boy who was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and hip cocked slightly to the side. He was the very picture of cool, though Lance knew him far more intimately and was thus not convinced by the casual stance but chose to refrain from mentioning it because he knew what was bothering him. Instead, they grabbed hands and walked toward the rendezvous.

Later, Lance and Keith would sit with their best friends and laugh as they exchanged their stories of how they fetched the other members of the rebellion, who were all, fortunately or unfortunately, present at the school. 

Keith would especially like hearing about how Adam had to deal with a disbelieving and peeved James who apparently was so distraught that Keith had been good all along that he had paired some choice words with a rant that could be summed up with the sentiment “I’m going to kill that bitch.” Thankfully, Kinkade had managed to calm him down, but apparently the boy had mentioned that both James and himself had been wronged by one of the duo. This would cause Lance to be immediately dismayed and protest that he hadn’t wronged Kinkade and if anyone had it had been Keith. 

Lance on the other hand would especially love Shiro’s slightly scarred recount of finding Axca and Veronica very much intertwined and having to explain the situation without being able to look them in the eyes. 

Neither would like Allura’s brief story of Kolivan simply shaking his head and complaining gruffly about “the two most difficult agents and his number one headache inducer”. Everyone else on the other hand would love this story. 

When the couple finally reached the rendezvous point, they immediately spotted the MFE’s standing off to the side whispering to one another as James continuously side-eyed Keith and Lance as if he was still confused about what was happening, Adam, Kolivan, Allura and Coran nodding at one another in agreement while discussing plans, and Veronica and Axca speaking softly to one another with dazed and confused expressions.

At the head of the group, stood Shiro, Pidge and Hunk, each in their respective uniforms and colors.

Keith and Lance threw their bags into the trunk with the others’  before pushing their way toward the front, causing all the whispers to die down and the large group to fall completely silent.

With all the most valuable members of the rebellion watching, with the MFE’s and Veronica and Axca staring at the duo in awe, with Allura and Coran offering respectful, affirmative nods, with Shiro and Adam smiling fondly and with Pidge and Hunk grinning, the Red and Blue Paladins joined the ranks of Voltron, the colored V’s stretching across their chest armor and glistening in the sunlight.

Chapter Text

With everything that they had been through together, with everything that they had faced, it wasn’t surprising that the core members of the Rebellion became something very close to a family, and it also wasn’t surprising that they would want something to indicate that to the entire world--which was still very much struggling with… well, everything.

This something eventually came-- about a year after their departure-- in the form of tattoos. 

Maybe it should have been obvious. Maybe they should have seen earlier that the best way to cover the scars that they gained unwillingly was by marking themselves with something that they had chosen to paint their skin with.

But once Lance, their symbol of unyielding goodwill and relentless hope, showed up with his own mark, the others followed suit and soon enough the highest-ranking members of the rebellion found themselves connected by the ink on their skin, designed and drawn by Keith, their symbol of fiery courage and reckless kindness.

Keith’s tattoos were rumored to have magical properties woven into them, a rumor that most likely came to be simply because of the sheer strength of everyone who had one and the fortitude of their minds and bodies that had come not from a tattoo but from a difficult life of fighting for what they believed in. Whether the tattoos were imbued with magic was irrelevant, because to each person, they meant the world. They were a symbol of trust, a representation of the group’s powerful bond, and a reminder of whatever else that person had requested, from loss to love.

After Lance, the next person to get a tattoo was Shiro, something both expected and unexpected at the same time what with his position as the team’s father figure battling with his fierce desire to support his little brother. Over the years he would get many small pieces of art, but the very first was a simple V. Keith had laughed at him and called him boring and Lance had complained that he was wasting Keith’s artistic and creative abilities, but Shiro had insisted and eventually his shoulder had a black Voltron symbol standing in sharp contrast to his light skin. As Keith’s ink made its way through the other members and they gained more and more scars, Shiro found the V surrounded by colorful flowers, from bluebells-- representing humility and constancy-- to red poppies-- representing remembrance and hope. 

Quite predictably, once Shiro and Adam had cemented their union with a small ceremony and tearful vows, they immediately turned to Keith hoping to find some way to symbolize even half of what they felt for each other. Keith had merely grinned, and the newlywed couple had left with two beautiful koi that seemed to form the yin yang symbol when their forearms were held side by side. To them, the endlessly circling koi were a promise of forever.

On Adam’s other wrist was an intricate compass rose that sat embedded in small flowers and vines that reached up his arm and wrapped around his wrist.

Strangely enough, it was Coran who had approached Keith next, asking for something to represent growth and energy, something to tie into the magic that flowed through his veins. Even more strange was that Coran continued to return to the Red Paladin, each time launching into some grand story with excruciating detail while Keith diligently focused on whatever odd request Coran had given him. But even as he told every person willing to listen the story’s of every tattoo, the tree with roots that winded across his lower back like a labyrinth and branches that swirled up his neck, twisting around an ethereal orb, remained a mystery to all but his closest friends.

Allura, who had eventually come to care for Keith just as much as the rest, got herself a small circular wave to decorate one of her wrists, later adding a matching black and white whale, framed by a small pink triangle that almost glowed from its place on her ribs. Tucked in the inside of her elbow was a beautifully designed sun with winding rays that curled protectively around her arm.

Pidge and her brother Matt got the same exact tattoo, the mischievous Gemini constellation meant to represent that though they weren’t twins by birth, they had a connection that ran deep in their veins and both held a fondness for practical jokes and teasing. Pidge also had the symbol of Voltron on her shoulder, but it was green and made of think lines that looked like digital static.

Despite being wary of the pain, Hunk eventually followed everyone else’s lead and got both a small whisk on his ankle and his own V, formed by a pair of chopsticks. Later, he would come to Keith, hand entwined with Shay’s, and he would embarrassedly ask for the boy to give them twin hearts because they were soft like that.

Although Keith nearly choked when James had first approached him, his ex having refused to look him seriously in the eye as he asked for the Paladin to give the group matching aircraft tattoos just above their ankles, the MFE’s were among those who continuously added new pieces to their collection. The other’s included Rolo, who had a small Blade mask on the side of his neck among many others, and Veronica and Axca whose tattoos were very different save for the matching roses tucked under their collarbones.

Some members only had one tattoo, wanting to avoid overpopulating their skin but also recognizing their symbolic importance to the tight-knit group of rebels. One such person was Kolivan who had asked with a stilted voice for a tattoo that incorporated every element he commanded and who had not shown a sign of pain on his poker face.

But out of them all, none were as heavily inked as Lance and Keith. 

Once Keith had figured out how to use his magic to give himself the tattoos he wanted, the two had continuously found new designs to mark their skin with. From that familiar V symbol that each other member of Voltron had, in the same spot on their shoulders and in their respective colors, to the small rifle and small samurai sword that hid under Lance and Keith’s collar bones respectively, each tattoo they had was uniquely dedicated to their dynamic, their connection.

In fact, while they did share matching tattoos of the Blade’s symbol, the majority of their tattoos focused on how they complemented one another such as the spiral of water on Lance’s right wrist and the circle of fire on Keith’s left.

The Red Paladin had a small explosion tattoo on his ankle and the Blue Paladin had the words Plus Ultra, two tattoos that they would often claim to have gotten because of their fondness for a certain controversial blonde rather than explaining what exactly they had done with this fondness. 

But by far the most intricate of all their tattoos was the one that bracketed their V symbols, the one that reached from their shoulder to their wrist. 

A beautiful, large inked Chinese dragon wrapped around Keith’s right arm, its tail disappearing over his shoulder and its body winding around his biceps and forearms. On the inside of his wrist was the dragon’s head, but unlike the rest of the black and realistic body, the neck and head were fairly cartoony and were the only parts of the tattoo that had color.

Lance, on the other hand, had a completely colored tattoo, a dragon that instead of being realistic and black and white, was bright and somewhat cartoonish. Just like Keith’s, the neck and head were different though this time they were inked black. Looking at the two of them without seeing their inside wrists, the tattoo could maybe be considered a coincidence, but the transition into the style of the other could only mean one thing.

It was the thing that every other tattoo on their bodies represented.

Whenever anyone asked them if they were going to get any more ink done. Lance would always wink and say, “Of course. After all, there’s many stories to come, so much uncharted territory ahead of us and on my body. Why wouldn’t I?”

Sometimes people questioned how Lance and Keith could feel so confident in their relationship, how they weren’t worried about their corresponding ink that could be a painful disaster should they break up, but Keith would always shrug and claim “I just know” and Lance would always grin and dismiss the thought immediately. They had been through far too much to worry about trivial things like that and they had the utmost faith in one another and their relationship.

Lance loved Keith and Keith loved Lance and if the two were thinking about getting matching tattoos on their ring fingers then that was nobody’s business but their own.