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Lance nearly dies on Keith’s birthday.
They’re infiltrating a Galra outpost on some tiny, sparsely populated planet when Keith gets sloppy, charging around a corner too fast and too loud, busy thinking about getting back to the castle to the cake Hunk promised him. A dumb mistake. Keith should’ve known better. He should’ve done better. He should’ve been prepared.
White light flashes and out of nowhere and pain blooms across Keith’s shoulder. His knees hit the floor. Something cracks. There’s an echo. Footsteps.
That’s when Lance gives away his own position from above, drawing the attack away from Keith. Later on he’ll rattle into the comms how there was no time, that he’d had to distract them or it’d be too late. Obviously it was the right thing to do, Lance will say.
Like Keith’s life is somehow worth more than his. Like this wasn’t Keith’s screw-up to begin with. Like this was fair.
And Keith takes a half-second too long to process. The air clears but there’s a sick feeling sliding down Keith’s back and into his legs as he watches two drones close in on Lance from opposite sides. He knows he can’t make it there but he tries, sore legs kicking the ground beneath him and rounding back to cover Lance, but he’ll never make it. Battle is like that. Everything can go wrong when everything should be going right. This wasn't fair.
The building sways then, a tremor rattling the ground beneath them, and the drones lose their target. Keith grits his teeth, doesn't feel the pain from his arm anymore, when Allura’s assured voice rings through the comms to tell them they’re on their way down. Relief surges to replace the fear beneath his skin.
They have just enough time to escape, because Blue is there and she takes the attention of Lance. Amid shouts and encouragement, they make it easily. They're safe.
But all Keith can think, heart pounding, is how close it’d been.
And he doesn't know why this bothers him so much. They've had close calls before. Why can't Keith ever stay calm?
They're barely off the ground when Lance pops up on his feed, demanding to know if he's OK, and it's only then that Keith remembers the blow to his shoulder. It doesn't hurt anymore.
So, Keith says "Fine," his tone clipped. His heart is still pounding. "Focus on getting back to the castle without drawing anymore attention."
He says it pointed, wants to be clear. Lance huffs and Keith terminates the line. There's some laughter on the shared feed between the team and the conversation shifts to discussing dinner. Maybe a movie afterward. Shiro sounds particularly excited about that.
And Keith's heart continues to pound.
Back in the hanger, Lance steps out of Red, breathless, smiling, and high on their survival.
Keith is livid, body still thrumming with urgency and fight. He’s forgotten today was supposed to be a good day, the first birthday he’d had with so many friends. He’s forgotten the cake and the dinner (and dread about them all singing to him).
All he remembers right then is that he’s mad.
“What were you thinking?” He seethes. He throws his helmet aside and it skids across the floor.
The giddy smile falls from Lance’s face along with his oblivious laughter. His expression morphs into something abashed and guilt-ridden and it barely fazes Keith. He backs Lance into a corner, one hand landing hard against his breastplate.
Keith’s voice is strained, pulled taut like a string. “I told you to have my back, not take my fire!”
“Like you wouldn’t have done—”
The same. Keith knows. Knowing it makes him mad.
He wants to shake Lance, get him to shut up, but his body is on autopilot. Instead he presses forward, his body draped over Lance’s in a way he can feel the heat of Lance’s skin through the flight suit. He can feel his shallow breathing. When he kisses Lance, he knows it’s a weird thing to do. It’s weird that his hand leaves Lance’s chest to wrap around the back of his neck and it’s weird to thread his fingers through Lance’s hair.
Weirder still, Lance kisses him back. A hand lands on Keith’s bruised shoulder and another around his waist. Lance wets his lips, tongue slipping past his teeth, and no one has ever kissed Keith like this before.
Then the moment is over in a blink. They stare at each other, confused, as the adrenaline fades and the room stops spinning. Everything grows quiet. Keith’s hand is still clutched around the back of Lance’s neck and Lance’s fingers are still splayed over Keith’s hip.
Lance cracks first, goofy glad-we’re-alive grin back and Keith's anger is burning off, turning into something else.
“Happy birthday,” Lance says.
Keith nods.
Lance lets Keith go.
Keith feels the tremor leave him.
He reaches forward to take it back.