Chapter Text
Ever since Lance was 14, things always had a sort of…off-quality to them. Like watching an old film on a new TV, it was a sense of one thing not belonging with the other. Things only became weirder after he joined the Galaxy Garrison.
At first, it had been a blast. Sure, nearly right off the bat he'd been beaten out of the last Fighter Class spot, stuck as a Cargo Pilot. Maybe his loose mouth got him into trouble more times than it got him out of it. And, okay, maybe flirting with every cute girl he saw wasn't a very acceptable use of his time - but he’d been determined to show the instructors just how deserving he was of a promotion, anyway! And after months of no acknowledgement, a new spot for a Fighter Pilot finally opened up - after one more week of praying and hoping, they gave it to him. At long last, he was where he wanted to be, where he knew he actually belonged. He learned at the hands of the best instructors, ran top-notch simulations - and best of all? He was friends with two of the smartest guys in his class. He had a real team.
Of course, things rarely went perfectly for Lance. There were plenty of rough patches here and there: his lead instructor, Iverson, never missed an opportunity to compare him to a previous cadet. He and his team constantly failed the simulations because of one reason or another, like how the controls of the Garrison's practice ships always feeling stiff and wrong (which he would be writing a strongly worded letter to the CEO about, make no mistake!), or how Hunk couldn’t handle flight for more than ten minutes before he got sick.
No, it wasn't exactly what one would call "smooth sailing," but nothing worth doing ever was. The point: Lance was happy. Everything was great and his life was looking up.
But something was always in the background, tugging at him. An insistent voice that barely carried over the noise of the day, whispering, "Is this all there is?"
More often than not, Pidge and Hunk found him up on the roof in the middle of the night; a quiet, secluded place where cadets were definitely not allowed to be. He'd spend much too long looking up at the stars, or staring out into the far distance of the desert, just thinking. He didn’t know how to tell his friends that it felt like there was something calling to him from out beyond the base walls. He didn't know how to admit that some kind of unknown energy was urging him to go search - and that he didn't know exactly what it was he was supposed to search for. So instead, he'd just laugh and say that he liked to look at the stars. That wasn't a lie. He distracted his restlessness with fidget toys and tapping fingers, and he knew there was no reason for there to be a lump of guilt sitting in his gut, but there was.
Those moments weren’t the first time he'd ever felt like he didn’t belong in his own skin. Looking at his track record, he didn’t think they would be the last, either.
He wanted to follow the call, but he was terrified of what it could be or what it could mean. He's had enough weird shit happen in his life, thank you very much. So he was resolved to leave it alone. He figured it was probably just homesickness… He missed his mom's medianoche, his dad's always-warm hugs, and his sister's gossip. The chattering and yelling of his cousins and the way his little brother would burst into his room without knocking, just to show him a “really cool!” lizard. This was the first time he ever lived away from his family, so it probably wasn’t unusual to feel like this…
Like something was missing.
“Is that a meteor?!” Hunk gasped, and Lance and Pidge looked up from their notebooks, following the line of Hunk's finger pointing to the dark sky. They had snuck out of base a couple hours ago and gone into the desert dunes to test out some of Pidge’s new tech, so to say it was unexpected to see a blazing orange object hurling itself toward Earth was an understatement.
“It’s a ship!” Pidge yelled, fumbling for the binoculars hanging around his neck. Lance got a hold of them first and shoved the eyeglass against his face.
“Holy cow! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!” He shrieked, ignoring Pidge's grabby hands. The ship was far larger than any spacecraft he’d seen before, but that wasn’t all… “UH - it kind of looks like a lion?!"
“Get…off!” Pidge grunted, finally pushing Lance away and looking through the binoculars himself. "YO! That is definitely not one of ours!”
“Do you think it’s, you know…alien?” Hunk wondered, wiggling his fingers, as the trio watched the object touchdown not too far from them. Lance cringed at the comment, not really wanting to get into that stuff with the other two again. Of course they all knew aliens existed - that wasn't the problem.
“Maybe?” Was all Pidge said in return, and Lance let out a slow breath. “I mean, it doesn’t look like anything we have – and it’s far faster than any flying craft I’ve ever seen or read about. Unless another country has some real advanced tech that they’re hiding. But why show it now - here of all places?” There was a sparkling, determined edge to his voice. “We've gotta get a closer look at it!”
“I was afraid you were going to say that…” Hunk groaned.
Lance was already running to the cycle they'd “borrowed” earlier. “Stop being afraid of adventure and get on!” He called over his shoulder.
Pidge folded up his laptop and shoved things into his bag haphazardly, quickly climbing on behind Lance. The second Hunk had clambered onto the back, Lance took off over the slopes, earning a yelp of surprise from his friend. They sped toward the ship that had landed among the dunes, near a jagged cliff face where the sand solidified into stone.
“There’s somebody there!” Pidge alerted over the whipping of wind, zooming the binoculars in on something at the ship – the lion’s? – feet.
“Human? Alien?” Hunk called back.
“Can’t tell, but it looks human. Definitely a biped. They’re wearing a dark suit and a mask.”
“So, stealth gear? Like a bad guy?”
“Also unclear. It's suspicious, but I don’t think we should make any assumptions too early.”
“If it were a bad guy," Lance asked, "wouldn’t he have come straight at the Garrison? To attack us or spy on us? Or started firing weapons from his ship, or something?”
“Of course not.” Pidge's tone made it sound as if it were obvious. Maybe it was. “There are plenty of ways to be devious without making a big show of it. I vote that we be stealthy as well and observe – just in case.”
“Seconded!” Hunk yelled.
“Fine,” Lance agreed, easing up on the accelerator as they neared the ship. He stopped the cycle at the base of a large dune so they were hidden by a wall of sand, perfect for spying. They all clambered off and crept their way to the top of the hill, watching as the dark figure walked away from where the lion sat and out toward the rocks, stopping every so often to check a device at their belt and glance around.
“Verrry suspicious,” Lance murmured, eyes narrowing. “What is he looking for?” He crept over the top of the dune and slid down the other side, doing his best to remain stealthy.
“Lance!” Pidge hissed in outrage. “Get back here!”
“¡Relajarte!” Lance said back, rolling his eyes. “I won't get caught. I just want to know where he’s going.” He kept low and crept along the sand until he made it to the firmer ground, hiding behind boulders and the sparse desert plants as he trailed after the stranger, confident that he hadn't been noticed. He didn't know if Hunk or Pidge were following after him, and he didn't bother to look. He didn't want to miss one move this stranger made.
He wove his way between the peaks and dips of the terrain, keeping his distance, but making sure to keep the other in sight. The stranger suddenly veered left and disappeared between the rocks, and Lance had to jog to keep up.
“Well, well, well…" Lance sang, stepping around the rock face to see that there was a large crack, like a cave entrance. "I wonder if he's hiding? Or maybe what he's after is in here?” He risked a glance behind him to find that either his friends hadn't followed, or he’d lost them among the rocks. Well, there was no way he was going to wait for them and risk losing the suspicious (possible-alien's?) stranger. Risk losing sight of someone who might, just maybe, have some answers to his questions.
After hesitating for only another moment, he followed through the entrance.
He only got a few steps into the cave when something heavy fell to the ground behind him. A weird but familiar energy shot up his spine like a warning, making his hair stand on end, and he dropped into a crouch just in time to avoid the sharp edge of a dagger slicing through the air where his neck had been just seconds before. 'Ay, dispara,' what a lousy time for him to be unarmed! He should have thought this through. He used the momentum of his duck to roll back to his feet, quickly rising in a defensive stance that starkly contrasted the stranger’s own offensive posture.
“Who are you and why are you following me?" They shouted, grip tightening on the dagger.
Lance swallowed nervously as the blade glinted in the pale moonlight - but, also…there was something eerily familiar about the other's posture, in the way they held the dagger aloft. Not with the blade turned inward toward their own body, as one would normally see, but out - optimal for slashing instead of stabbing. Lance paused, twisting his mouth to the side and squinting as he pondered over how the other stood. It really reminded him of – but, no. That couldn’t be right. Granted, Lance didn’t know where he had gone after leaving the Garrison, but this? Impossible… But—
Lance had spent long enough watching from afar to vividly remember.
“Keith?” He wondered, testing it. His voice was so soft that it didn't even echo around the cavernous space. He immediately regretted speaking the name, feeling stupid to be caught whispering his old rival's name into the air like some lovesick heroine, even if the other person was only a stranger - but the other flinched at the name, his whole body moving with it.
Lance felt his mouth fall open, thunderstruck because - '¡no podía ser!' How and why on Earth would it be?! And yet here they both were, staring each other down and—“No way! Keith?!”
In his shock, Lance had lowered his fists, opening himself up. In what felt like an instant, Keith sped across the distance between them and grabbed his wrists, grappling Lance’s hands behind his back as if he were handcuffed. He hooked his ankle around the front of Lance's legs and used their combined body weight to send him toppling forward. They crashed down to the ground; Keith above, one foot braced in between his shoulders and one hand still holding his arms together, and Lance's below, eating dirt. Lance winced from the impact and whined as sand harshly dug into his cheek. He opened his eyes to see the point of Keith’s dagger only inches from his face.
“How do you know my name?!” Keith demanded, grasp tightening painfully.
“¡Ay! Whoa – wait!” Lance cried, ignoring how dirt got in his mouth as he talked, “I’m not here to fight you! My friends and I saw a mysterious ship, we followed it – end of story! My name is Lance!”
“Lance who?”
“Uh – Lance McClain?” He repeated, annoyance sliding in through his disbelief. “We were in the same year at the Garrison? You beat me out of a Fighter Pilot spot—?”
“Yeah, I remember you,” Keith interrupted, his weight shifting a little, grip lessening. “You’re the Cargo Pilot who rammed his tray at me in the cafeteria.”
Lance was outraged. “Excuse me?! You’re the one who slammed through the doors in a big huff, acting like you own the place!” He flexed, using his extra strength to yank his arms free of Keith’s now-surprised grasp. “But of course! How silly of me to think you’d have the time to remember a lowly Cargo Pilot!” He spat, flipping over and kicking Keith squarely in the chest, causing the other to lift away from him and stumble back multiple steps.
“Wait—” Keith said a little breathlessly, looking pained and surprised as he rubbed his sternum, “That’s not what I—”
“Well, I’m in the Fighter Class now, thanks to you washing out!” Lance continued, feeling the burn of his anger in his ears.
“Oh—uh, congratulations.”
There was a definite awkwardness in the long silence that followed. Lance was mad and he wanted to lash out – wanted Keith to fight back and give him an easy target. He wasn’t sure what to do or say when Keith offered up no other statement or come-back. He looked away with a scowl and crossed his arms.
“…What are you even doing here, Keith?”
“Well, it’s—” Keith was interrupted when a cry of “LANCE!” came from somewhere just beyond the cave entrance.
“In here, Hunk!” Lance called back. Only a moment later, his friend appeared at the opening, looking near tears in his relief.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Hunk cried.
“Where’s Pidge?”
“He stayed over by the ship. He had that shiny look in his eye that he normally gets around new tech, so I figured I wouldn’t be able to pull him away. I came after you.” Hunk’s gaze went from Lance to the other figure in the cave. “So, I see you caught up with…uh—?”
“It’s Keith,” Lance supplied, decidedly not looking at the aforementioned.
“Really? Are you sure?”
“100 percent.”
“Wow,” Hunk looked stunned.
“Do I…know you, too?” Keith asked, sounding lost.
“Oh! Oh, no. We’ve never actually met.” Hunk waved his large hand dismissively. “But Lance talks about you all the time, so—”
“Not all that time!” Lance refuted, slamming his hands over Hunk’s mouth. "Just - sometimes! Like back when he was still in class with us!" There was a slight snort behind him from Keith and Lance’s body burned all over. "Really, I don't even think about you at all—"
Hunk pushed Lance’s hands away.
“So, Keith. What’s up with the suit? And the, um…the lion?”
“It’s kind of confidential,” Keith replied stiffly, his back straightening. Hunk and Lance stared at him for a full second, then at each other, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Uh, no offense, but you kind of shot out of space. In a lion ship. Dressed like a glowy ninja.” Hunk supplied.
“So obviously we need to know - what the heck?” Lance added.
There was a long sigh from under the mask.
“I'm assuming you guys won't leave me alone, will you?”
“Nope.” Lance thumped himself in the chest proudly. “Upstanding cadets, such as we, have a profound duty to observe – and report – any suspicious characters.” He pointed directly at Keith. "Failed cadets dressed like ninjas arriving in a weird space ships fit that description."
“We’re not going to actually report him…are we?” Hunk asked worriedly. Lance just shushed him.
“First of all, it's not a ninja suit." Keith said, his tone annoyed.
"Is it dark and stealthy? Does it hide your identity?" Lance asked.
"Sure, but—"
"Ninja suit!" Lance yelled.
"I don't have time for this! I’m here because I’m looking for Voltron.”
“Vol-what now?” Hunk wondered.
“It’s a giant robot made up of five Lions that was created by aliens to protect the Universe.”
“Dios mio…” Lance dragged his hand down his face. “You’re crazy, aren’t you? You hit hard times after getting booted from the Garrison and you’ve been living out in the desert. Your mind has been completely baked by the sun. Do you even realize how weird that just sounded?”
“I'm not nuts.” Keith bristled. “And I’ve been living in space.”
“So you're suffering from lack of oxygen, then.”
“Why are you such a - Look; yes, I know how it sounds! I didn’t believe it at first, either. But then we found Allura and Coran and Red chose me as her pilot, and we have to find the Blue Lion so we can form Voltron and stop the Galra from taking over the whole universe!” It was like he was rushing to tell them everything just to stop Lance from talking.
“The Galra?” Hunk wondered.
“They’re a massive empire ruled by a complete tyrant, Zarkon. They’ve existed for over 10,000 years now, destroying planets and terrorizing galaxies. And the only way we can hope to defeat them is by using Voltron – before they do.”
“Why are you here, though?” Lance repeated his earlier question. “Have the Galra made it to Earth?”
“No…and yes?” Keith’s shoulders were tense.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There were…some Galra…” Keith hedged, choosing his words with great care. Lance grew up in a house full of kids, so he knew how to tell when someone was hiding something, and Keith was clearly debating on what he should say, not planning on telling them the whole truth - whatever that was. “Some Galra… They didn’t agree with the Empire and rebelled. They became the Blades of Mamora and they found refuge where ever they could – so I can’t promise with absolute certainty that some haven’t been to Earth - but the Empire hasn’t made it here yet!” He added quickly, seemingly able to sense the beginnings of a terrified string of questioning from Hunk.
“So why are you here?” Lance asked once more.
“We – the Blades, that is – found ancient writings and markings from Earth’s history that depict the Blue Lion. Each tell a slightly different story about the same event, like some kind of arrival. Here, look—” Keith stepped a little deeper into the cave, gesturing to the walls. After a moment of hesitance, Lance followed after him, looking to where Keith had waved his hand. “These are the carvings I’m talking about. They’re everywhere around here, so we know it must be around this area. I was sent here to search and locate it, if it is.”
Lance stared, feeling a strange sense of apprehension wash over him as he inspected the markings. The drawing was giving him the same feeling that he’d grown all-too familiar with. A tugging, a pull. It was like the weightlessness you got right when a roller coaster crested over a hill. A moment suspended in time. He raised a hand and brushed it over the carving, knocking loose some excess dirt from the wall. The moment his palm passed over the face of the Lion, the whole carving lit up with a brilliant blue light and Lance jerked his arm away as if it had stung him. Suddenly all the markings around them began to shine with the same light, casting the whole area in a blue haze.
“That's new—” Keith began, only to cut off when the floor underneath them cracked and opened up. Lance was only just able to catch his look of horror mirrored in Hunk’s face before they plummeted downward into darkness. Lance was sure he screamed, knew with certainty that Hunk did, but he couldn’t hear anything over the roar of wind. The pit suddenly sloped, and the three found themselves sliding down a flow of water like a slide until, finally, they landed in a shallow pool, thoroughly soaked.
“¡Ay! ¡Eso fue loca!” Lance grunted, rubbing his aching butt as he staggered up to his feet. He wiped water from his eyes and looked up. Everything around him suddenly faded away. Ceased existing. Standing right there before him was a huge mechanical blue lion with what looked like a glowing electric blue web around it. It looked Just like the lion Keith had come to Earth with.
“It is here…” Keith breathed from behind him, sounding reverent. “I knew it.”
“Why does this one seem even bigger?” Hunk gaped. “And what's that around it?”
“Some sort of force field to keep out intruders, I'd guess.”
The two went on about the field, but Lance didn't say anything. He couldn’t. The Lion had stolen away everything inside him, around him. It was just them, standing in a weightless space.
She was beautiful. There was no getting around that. She sat, elegant and proud, with her chin lifted just so, as if she’d known Lance would come. As if she was annoyed that he'd kept her waiting. Though she didn't move, Lance knew that her golden eyes were staring right into him, into his very soul. Judging. The tug he previously felt inside was now a full-blown yank. A pressure that, while not painful, left him absolutely breathless. The sensation was again familiar, like a cherished memory - the strength of his father's handshake, or the touch of his mother’s hand against his cheek. Like a soothing balm over a burn, like warm tea on a rainy day. Something so simple, and yet so comforting and complete.
There was a rumble from somewhere in his chest, a soft brush against his mind, and a vision suddenly came to him:
Five Lions – Yellow, Red, Black, Green, and Blue – roaring as they sailed up into the sky.
A giant warrior coming forth and wielding a flaming sword.
The feeling of belonging, of being One.
Of being a part of something more than just himself—
The images surfaced and fell away quicker than Lance could track. One moment he was floating beyond his body, the next he was slammed back into it, panting like he’d just finished an Ironman Triathlon. As if on instinct, Lance moved forward on suddenly weak legs, his shaking hand lifted toward the blue webbing that surrounded her.
“Wait, Lance—!” Keith yelled from somewhere in the background, but he sounded miles away.
Lance couldn't process anything but the Lion in front of him. The need to get closer and bond with the Lion who now seemed to purr directly into his head. His fingers made contact with the barrier, then his whole palm. At once, it shrank away, pulling itself up from the ground and disappearing piece-by-piece as if it were never there in the first place. There was another nudge up against his mind, stronger now that the barrier was gone, and he felt rather than saw the color yellow - like sunshine and joy and…and approval. Approval and acceptance.
Of him.
“The Blue Lion…chose you as her paladin?” The level of awe and disbelief in Keith's tone shoved Lance back into reality.
“She knows quality when she sees it,” he said pompously, but did not remove his gaze from Blue as he then cooed, “Don’t you, baby?”
There was more color across his mind and a sense of laughter. He took it as an affirmative. Blue suddenly leaned down so her head was level with him, her jaw open in presentation. An offering. It wasn’t nearly as unsettling as it should have been, and the irony of literally walking into the belly of the beast wasn’t lost on Lance - he just didn’t care. He jogged up the ramp without even another glance at the others. Once inside the cockpit, he didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the pilot chair with a satisfied, “Oh, yeeeah.”
He hadn't expected the seat to move forward, and he gasped a little bit at the suddenness before he laughed, loud and carefree. There was an answering chuckle, a soft vibration that edged down his neck. The screen in front of him blinked to life, glowing with that same soft blue that already encompassed the cockpit. It showed the cave as if Lance were looking through Blue’s eyes. He ran his hands over the control panel gently; everything was perfectly within reach, like Blue had been tailored specifically for him.
“Hola, cariña,” Lance said, voice no louder than a whisper. “You’re just magnificent, aren’t you?”
There was a purr at the back of his mind, paired with a slightly rueful quip. Blue was much older than he was; thousands and thousands of years older. The sheer wisdom and power lurking inside of Blue was humbling, thrilling, and terrifying – yet she treated Lance as if he were special. He didn’t know how to respond to it, the level of affection Blue had for him when he hadn't even known of her existence until just moments ago was staggering. He had always known that he was different, but this was a whole different level of different. It was like he was 14 all over again, his world flipped on it's side.
There was a sympathetic push of blue and gray against his mind and he understood her as clearly as if she used words: things seemed like they would never be normal again, and there were so many questions that he deserved answers to, but now he had her. They were stronger together. He would get his answers.
“Well,” Lance managed, trying his best not to get choked up, “you sure say pretty things, and you don’t seem a day over five hundred, Azulita.”**
“Lance?” Hunk interrupted, and he looked over to see him and Keith entering the cockpit. “Are you flirting with the giant space robot lion?”
Lance raised his eyebrow.
“Do you really have to ask?”
“No. Sometimes I just hope.”
Lance laughed at his friend and settled his hands over the controls, grinning widely. Time to see what they could do. Blue thrummed in excitement and smugness; she could do more than he thought. “Let’s get out of this pit!” He yelled, giving no other warning before he thrust the levers forward.
Blue arched her back and leapt through the ceiling, bursting through the walls of the cave like they were nothing - in the face of her sheer power, they probably weren't. Hunk shouted in surprise and Keith grabbed at Lance’s chair to hold himself up. Neither Blue nor Lance registered the damage she must have done to the cave walls because suddenly they were out in the open air. Lance could feel her elation at being high above the world again. Flying Blue was exhilarating. She was everything the simulators weren’t, everything the fastest planes on Earth could never be. Overcome by it, Lance and Blue spun and twirled, rose and fell. They danced through the sky.
“Lance!” Hunk cried out, voice thick. “Make it stop! Oh, god – urp! Make it stop!”
“Okay, okay! Let me land!” There was subtle disappointment from Blue, but Lance had seen that color on Hunk’s face before. Time was of the essence. “Don’t you dare throw up inside of Blue!”
Lance quickly urged her toward the ground and came to a stop next to her Red sister. As soon as they touched down and Blue’s maw was open once more, Hunk was gone – running down the ramp to empty his guts among the sand. Keith left without a word as well. With the mask still on, Lance couldn’t tell if it was because he was sick too, or if he was just a jackass.
Probably just being a jackass.
“Poor Hunk…” Lance muttered, feeling bad. He gave the control panel an affectionate pat and headed down the ramp after the others. He saw Keith off to the side near Red, fiddling with what looked like some kind of communication device. Hunk was done with his business in the dunes and was now standing with Pidge where he'd been waiting waiting for them both.
“I can’t believe you found a sentient lion space ship and flew it without me!” Pidge complained as soon as Lance was in earshot.
“You were going gaga over Red!” Hunk insisted. “No one can pull you away when you’re like that. The whole finding the Blue Lion thing was completely unplanned.”
“Lance, you’ve got to let me ride with you!” Pidge pleaded, clasping his hands in front of him eagerly. “I want to see the inside!”
“Sure, sure,” Lance said easily, grinning. He would take any excuse he could find to fly Blue again. "But you are not allowed to dismantle her!"
“Uh, not to derail Pidge’s tech hard-on or anything, but…” Hunk nodded over to where Red was, “Has Keith always had…ears?”
“Huh?” Pidge followed his line of sight.
“What?” Lance scoffed. “Everyone has ears, Hunk. What the fu—” There were fingers gripping his chin, shoving his head over so he had to look. The jerk had finally taken off his stupid mask and pulled down his hood and—
“Ears!” Lance yelped, jerking out of Hunk’s grasp. Startled at the cry, Keith jumped, looking over in time to see all three of them running toward him like a scene out of a horror movie.
Lance was a bit shocked to see how much Keith had changed, looks-wise. He was more defined and chiseled than he had been before. He was noticeably older, yet still soft, like even years of growing and fighting in space hadn't been enough to take away the youthful glint in his eyes or the round curve of his cheeks. Lance also couldn't help but notice that he was still stupidly, unfairly handsome. His eyebrows still thick and severe, his lips still full and curved in a perfect way. His hair was longer now, definitely a mullet, but Lance had no time to pick on him for it. There was a more pressing issue - something that had changed so drastically: “Since when do you have cat ears?!”
Keith scowled, said ears flattening.
“I don’t have cat ears.”
“Unless the three of us are collectively hallucinating, uh - yeah. Yeah, you do.” Lance said.
“No, I have ears, but they’re not – they’re not cat ears—” Keith eyebrows moved inward.
“But you admit you have ears!” Lance said.
“But they’re not cat ears!” Keith said.
“Why do you have big, fluffy ears at all?!”
"I don't know!" Keith finally snapped with irritation. “Why do you have Altean marks?!”
Lance immediately slapped his hands over his cheeks, struck dumb for possibly the first time in his life. Beside him, Hunk and Pidge were also quiet, quickly glancing between the two of them as if they were watching a terrible soap opera unfold.
‘Mierda!’ Lance thought, gritting his teeth. He was always so, so careful about hiding the marks on his otherwise unblemished face. The concealer he normally wore must have rubbed off during their scuffle, or from the water. He knew that he should have splurged on the water-resistant brand, but he never thought he would be forced into an unexpected swim.
It was too late to worry about any of that now. He had to salvage the situation.
“I don’t!” Years of practice made the lie come easy – but too fast. Too loud. His voice was too high. “You’re just seeing things in the moonlight. Shadows can look like a lot of things if you’re not paying attention.”
“Right.” Keith crossed his arms with a satisfied smirk that Lance would have loved to punch off of him, had his hands not already been occupied. “Then why did they look like they were glowing when you bonded with Blue?”
“No, no. That was just the shine of the Lion-robot…thing. Blue. Maybe you just got blinded by my beauty and had a gay awakening?” Lance shrugged. “That’s okay, too. We don’t discriminate here.”
“Uh – no, trust me. You didn’t awaken the gay in me.”
“Oh, so you are gay?” That was interesting - not that he was, you know…interested.
“Are you ever serious?”
Lance didn't even have to think about that one.
“Not if I can help it, no.”
“Lance.” His name was thin and clipped, like Keith wanted, more than anything in the world, him to just shut up. “Why are you covering your face if I’m just seeing things?”
Lance would have loved to shut-up, but the words just continued to pour out like a waterfall, fueled by a fear he'd lived with for almost four years: “I-I’m not. You don’t – it’s too dark! Have you ever thought that maybe you need glasses? I bet you just need glasses. My uncle knows a guy who can get you frames for cheap.”
From the shared look on Hunk and Pidge’s faces, Lance knew he wasn’t really salvaging anything by acting the way he was. But he couldn't lower his arms and let Keith see the marks. He didn't want anyone else to know - his family, Hunk, and Pidge was enough. The less who knew, the better.
“I don’t need glasses.” There was a secret satisfaction in Keith’s tone. “I can see you just fine.”
“Nope! Not true! Too dark!”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I can see you clearly."
“What? You got some super-freak eyeballs to match your super-mega ears?!”
“Lance!” Pidge admonished, but it was unnecessary. He felt guilty the very moment the words left his mouth.
Out of anyone, Lance knew it wasn’t right to insult something someone couldn’t change or control… embarrassment had been egging him on, moving his mouth before his brain could catch up. He just… He didn’t want Keith to know about it. Any of it. The strange blue marks on his cheek bones, how they glowed in the middle of the night or when he blushed or was angry, the way his body healed slightly faster, the hidden strength in his lanky body that he had to learn to control, how his reflexes mirrored more of a cat than human…all of it was weird. Different. Other-worldly. He didn’t want anyone else to find out; his family, Hunk, and Pidge was plenty. He didn’t want to deal with the whispers or the questions or, even worse, the staring.
He tensed, waiting for Keith’s retaliation; the stinging insult, the jaw-cracking punch… But Keith didn’t speak or move. He was looking at him with an almost somber expression that Lance had never seen on his face before. Like a moment of clarity - of understanding. So profound that Lance shrank back more, wanting to run back into Blue and hide.
“Yeah, it’s something like that,” Keith finally said cryptically, shrugging.
“Well…” Lance deflated. He was confused but thankful that Keith didn't take the bait this time. That there was something he saw in Lance that made him ease up instead of attack.
“Enough.” Hunk sighed, placing a heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder. His eyes were soft and sympathetic. “Lance, there's no point.”
“Okay, fine!” Lance threw his hands in the air and let them fall dramatically. “I have weird shit on my face – you got me! ¡Lo que sea!”
“Altean marks,” Keith corrected.
“Fine!” Lance shouted. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Keith folded his arms, staring at Lance steadily. "And I don’t want to talk about my ears, either.” He then promptly turned his back on them and walked over to where Red sat.
Lance wanted to think that he won, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he'd won. As he watched Keith walk away, he didn’t feel satisfied or confident, like winning usually make him feel. Instead, his gut was heavy like lead and he felt wrong-footed, like his center of gravity had shifted. And Lance was able to recognize the off-feeling instantly, because it wasn’t the first time Keith had made him feel like this.
Lance jogged with an easy grin, weaving around other students like he was in a basketball court instead of a crowded hallway. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, hair gelled just enough to have that perfect intentional-messy look, and his uniform shirt was tucked in properly. One must look their best when making friends.
Or, that’s what Hunk had said, anyway.
Lance has never had any trouble making friends, but since his target this time was Keith Kogane he figured it wouldn’t hurt to start off on the right foot and look like a proper student for the first time in his life. It was only the second week of his first year at the Garrison, but Lance could tell there was something special about Keith; he was a role model student. He was going to be the best pilot in their class. His scores on the simulator were already phenomenal! Lance was determined to be friends.
At the bottom of a flight of stairs, Lance finally caught up to the mop of dark hair he’d been following. He tapped Keith’s shoulder to get his attention, already reciting his practiced “Hey! I’m Lance.” He extended his hand out to the other.
Keith stared down at it for a long minute before looking back up, face blank.
Lance lowered his hand, passing over the awkward moment without any acknowledgment that it happened. Clearly, not a touchy guy – or maybe he was a germophobe? Either way, Lance could roll with it.
“You’re Keith, right?” Perfect. Light and easy, as if he didn’t already know. “I saw your simulator scores – you’re really good!”
Keith’s eyes narrowed, but beyond that, he didn’t respond.
Lance’s smile wavered for the first time.
“Not much of a talker, I guess?”
Another pause, then Keith shook his head slightly. Lance grinned again.
“That’s okay. My dad isn’t much for small-talk, either.” He hoisted his bag up higher on his shoulder. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with the simulator. I don’t know why, but the controls always feel really stiff to me and I’m having a hard time. I’ll trade you something in return, of course. You can't get anything for nothing, after all. I’m good at shooting and Strategic Theory and Hunk – that’s my friend – is good at anything involving science or machines. He can also cook the best pineapple upside-down cake you’ve ever had in your life! We can trade classwork and help each other out, or we could just get together and have a study group! Hunk and I—”
“What are you talking about?” Keith interrupted.
Lance snapped his mouth shut, feeling his face burn a little from embarrassment. “Oh – sorry. I’m sorry, I get carried away." He forced himself to slow down, ignoring the rapid thump-thump-thump of his heart. "Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime. Or…if you could just help me with the simulator, that would be cool, too. I’m honestly bad at it.”
Keith looked him up and down, almost like sizing up an opponent. It was unnerving enough that Lance fidgeted, looping the hair tie he always wore on his wrist around his fingers nervously. His palms were growing sweaty.
“Are you trying to ask me on a date or something?” Keith stared at him flatly, his delivery so deadpan that Lance laughed a little at first, thinking it was a joke. Then he realized it wasn’t.
“Oh! Oh, you actually – no. No, I just wanted to—"
“Then are you making fun of me?”
Lance’s stomach seized and fell to his feet.
“Making fun of you?” He repeated dumbly. “Why would I do that?”
“Then why are you talking to me?” Keith asked, growing more impatient. Assertive.
Lance thought that it was so obvious, but—
“Uh, I want to be your friend?”
“I don’t have friends,” Keith said, his annoyed expression not changing as he neatly stepped away from him, “and I’m not looking to make any, either.” He tossed one more suspicious look over his shoulder and then walked away, leaving Lance standing alone on the stairs.
‘Wow. Grosero.’ Lance thought, frustration burning in his chest. He wanted to yell something scathing at Keith’s retreating back, but he was too angry to form proper words. It was the first time Lance ever felt a genuine dislike toward another person.
It tasted bitter in his mouth, the same way losing did.
As it turned out, pettiness and spite were excellent motivators. After being firmly snuffed by Keith, Lance had returned back to his dorm room, where Hunk had been waiting with fresh brownies – bless him – and declared quite vehemently, tears at the edges of his eyes, that he and Keith were now and forever rivals. Lance swore that he was going to crush Keith in everything.
Lance's grades hadn't been bad before, but from then on he never got anything below an A. He’d always been an active kid, but he started to spend even more time in the gym, perfecting his hand-to-hand combat. He was already one of the top students in the shooting gallery, but he put in extra time there too, just to keep his lead. He chased after Keith in every subject, every event, every project. And he eagerly awaited for the day when Keith would turn to him, really see him, and apologize.
Despite all of that, it wasn’t enough.
It didn’t matter that he aced his quizzes or got really involved with extracurricular activities and clubs. All anyone ever talked about was Keith and what a prodigy he was. What a great pilot he was (even with the terrible simulator controls, he’s so skilled!), how he grew into his uniform over the next year (he’s so mysterious and handsome!), how he was practically Shirogane’s younger brother (he knows Shiro! He’s so cool!)
Lance hated it. He felt like he was living in a shadow the size of Everest. Even growing up in a large family, Lance had never felt so overlooked. He wanted to beat Keith, or at least be on equal ground, but he always ended up pushed aside no matter how hard he worked.
And the worst part was that Keith wasn’t even trying! He didn’t care that he had everyone fawning over him. He didn't care that he had the brightest future anyone could ever want. Lance believed that was the biggest insult; that he worked harder, faster, and better, that he cared so damn much – but Keith didn’t care at all. And Keith got everything.
When Keith was expelled from the school – “a vague ‘disciplinary issues’ is listed as the reason,” Pidge revealed after hacking into the school’s records for Lance, because the curiosity of why the Garrison’s best student was kicked out was driving him mad – Lance thought that that would be the end of it. He was now in Fighter Class and he would live his dream, and he would never think of Keith ever again.
How wrong he was.
Even when Keith was gone, his influence lingered. “The only reason you’re here is because the best pilot in your class flunked out.” Nothing Lance did was enough. He was chasing after someone who wasn’t even there. The bitterness of it sat in the back of his throat and choked him.
Worse still, even after everything, Lance continued to believe that Keith had been amazing, that they could have been a good team. If only Keith had taken the time to notice he existed.
“You know…” Pidge's voice slammed Lance back into the present. She had a type of smooth tone that immediately made him defensive. “If Keith knows exactly what those marks are, maybe you should try being nice to him?”
“I would rather throw myself into a pool of sharks.”
“You're being ridiculous. If he knows—”
“Look, I don't care if he knows what they are, or if he knows why I have them," Lance retorted, glaring at the said man's back.
“Okay, I get that you have a weird crush on him—”
“No, I don't!”
“I'm just saying that maybe this is your chance to get some answers.”
“He's right,” Hunk added gently. “You may think you're sneaky, but we know how much it bothers you.”
“Did you really think that we believed you stare at the sky almost every night just because you like looking at the stars?” Pidge accompanied that with a small eye-roll. “Or that you stare into the mirror too long just because you're 'perfecting the look'?”
Lance frowned. No, he hadn't thought he was really being sneaky at all. And yes, he wanted answers, but…
“Guys, it's Keith,” he said, as if that explained everything. And maybe it did - for them, anyway.
Pidge opened his mouth, looking defiant, but Hunk quickly spoke, “Lance, we know. Believe me, we get it. But right now, he's your only option.”
God, Lance hated being wrong.
The small, almost phone-like device at Keith’s hip suddenly went off, an urgent static-y voice coming through, and all three of them turned their heads toward it. It spoke an unfamiliar language, but Lance somehow understood it – that tone was universal. The person on the other end of the receiver was clearly warning Keith about something. His suspicion was confirmed when Keith spit out a heavy curse and lifted his head to the sky, eyes sharp and focused – a look of determination that was much similar to the old Keith Lance had known. (Well, it was good to know some things didn’t change.)
Lance followed the look, but didn’t see anything but the stars.
“Uh…what was that?” Hunk asked, sensing the tension.
“Proximity alert,” Keith replied, tearing his eyes from the sky. He looked tense, like he was ready for a fight. “Galra are passing by a Blade base near the Milky Way. They’re most likely on their way here, and they're moving fast.”
Lance’s heart beat hard at the news, pounding in his ears. Galra - the big, terrible bad guys Keith had told them about, who were bent on taking over the universe, here? There was no way that could happen. He thought of his father, who would be probably be getting home by now, if he wasn’t already, and his mother, who was most likely at this moment cheerfully humming her favorite pop song of the week. Lance felt his mouth go dry as he thought about all of his siblings and cousins, sleeping peacefully in their beds and unaware that there was a giant galactic war coming to their front door.
“How soon will they be here?” He asked.
“Vargas.”
“Speak English or Spanish, please.”
“A few Earth hours.”
“What do they want?” Pidge’s voice was smaller and more timid than Lance had ever heard it. He was always so practical and smart, Lance always forgot that he was actually two years younger than he and Hunk were.
For some reason, that knowledge struck him especially hard in that moment. Two years wasn’t really all that much, but it suddenly seemed like such a long time and it startled Lance. It wasn’t just his own family in danger, but his friends and their families, too. And then their loved ones, and theirs. The whole world was in danger. The Galra absolutely could not be allowed to make it to Earth. They had to stop them.
“I’ll give you one good guess what they want,” Keith said in answer to Pidge’s question, and they all looked over to where Red and Blue sat proudly.
“Okay,” Lance nodded, grounding himself. “What can we do?”
Keith’s eyebrows rose as he repeated a surprised, “We?”
“Yes, we.” Lance frowned. “You might not live here anymore, but Earth is our home. I’m not going to let some thugs come and destroy it or threaten people I care about!”
Something passed over Keith’s face as he spoke, blocking out the previous surprise. Was it…approval? Lance had never seen Keith satisfied with anything, so he had no idea what that would look like.
It was strange…he always thought that getting Keith’s attention would be the pinnacle of his existence; that he’d smugly rub Keith’s face in his accomplishments, that he’d lord it over Keith for the rest of his life, but now all Lance felt was a swelling sense of pride that Keith seemed to have noticed him in some kind of way. There was a budding determination to prove that his approval was well-placed, and it confused Lance because…well, he hated Keith! If not quite hate, then at least a deep dislike. Of course he also admired him, but you could respect a rival while not liking them.
But here they were after two years, and this older Keith didn’t seem to be the same one Lance had once swore to defeat. It was jarring, the difference. Again, Lance was struck by the thought that two years was actually much longer than it seemed.
“So we'll have to fight?” Hunk asked, clearly worried.
“Is there ever another option?” Keith muttered, mostly to himself, before saying louder, “The Galra have been after Voltron for a long time, they won’t just give up. The lions are like war machines, but two isn’t enough to wipe out the fleet heading toward Earth.” Keith’s eyes settled on Lance. “The best we can do is leave Earth and have them follow us – then lose them with a warp.”
“Won’t they just continue to Earth?” Pidge asked.
“I don’t think so.” Keith’s brow furrowed. “If they see that we already have Blue, they won’t have any reason to come to Earth. We have to take the lions and leave.”
The worry that had bubbling like a tar pit in Lance’s stomach solidified into something much thicker. His fingers tapped impatiently against his thigh, restless, as he pieced together Keith’s hesitance, why he was looking at him with such apprehension.
“Blue choose me,” he whispered, understanding, “I have to fly her out of here.”
“Yes.”
The grin Lance wore was far too flat to be genuine, but he made a joke anyway.
“Welp. Looks like I'll be graduating from the Garrison early.”