Chapter Text
Lance jolts awake from his post-battle nap to the sound of his handheld’s alarm. Groaning, he reaches over to his nightstand and hits the snooze button before burrowing back underneath the covers. He pulls the blanket over his head, determined to get the most out of the next ten minutes of rest. The battle hadn’t been necessarily hard, but there have been so many in a row that he hasn’t had a full eight hours of sleep in three days. Lotor’s disappearance off the radar has also been keeping him on edge; the last message broadcasting from Lotor’s ship lingered in Lance’s mind, a deep, cold voice echoing, “See you soon, paladins…”
That was two months ago.
The snooze alarm brings Lance fully back to reality. With a sigh, he rolls out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom. The lights turn on automatically as he steps through the doorway, blinding him momentarily before his eyes adjust and the cold tile on his feet sends a shock up his spine. He turns to the mirror and frowns. Dark circles, puffy eyes, and his hair is in disarray. Two hours before the gala starts, plenty of time to clean up and get presentable. He turns on the shower and waits for the water to warm.
This was the fourth gala in the past 30 days. As much as Lance loves parties, he was not looking forward to this one with the lack of sleep. Allura and Coran dealt with the political leaders and officials, but they have been relying on Lance to do what he does best: socialize and charm. Anyone he could interact with, it was his job to make an impression, make them laugh, and make them love Team Voltron. While he excelled at it, it was also exhausting. Thankfully, he has a saving grace- Keith.
He loves watching Keith get flustered making small talk with other guests, or watching Keith’s expression eating foods that they have never seen before. Sometimes Lance will hover when Keith talks with a diplomat, catching Keith’s eye as a silent plea to save him before he says something stupid. Plus, there’s the bonus of seeing Keith in their gala attire. Each of the five paladins wore a similar ensemble for these events; a formal jacket in their respected colors, gold accents boarding the hems and sleeves, a gold plate over their right shoulder, white trousers, and boots in their respected color. The outfits remind Lance of the princes described in the fantasy novels he and Veronica read in middle school. He is curious to know how Keith would look wearing the red jacket, as the original Red paladin, but those thoughts are drowned out whenever he sees how Keith’s violet eyes stand out against his black jacket.
Lance’s romantic feelings towards Keith have been… complicated. He has suspected they've been hiding underneath the surface since their Garrison days, but was too swept up in studies and apparent jealousy to dive any deeper. When Keith stepped into the Black paladin position and Lance became his right hand man, the two have become a pair to be reckoned with, much to Lance’s enjoyment. The gnawing guilt of knowing that Shiro’s disappearance is a major factor into their new found closeness contributes to Lance’s sleepless nights at times, but he likes to think they would have gotten closer fighting an intergalactic space war regardless of a missing brother and newly forced leadership responsibilities.
They still look for Shiro. Keith goes out twice a week, if time allows it, to scan the vastness of space, looking for any clue to where his brother could be. They never let him go alone- anymore at least, not since the time Keith didn't return to the castle for ten hours. A couple of them will join him at a time, and on the rare, rare occasion, it’s just Lance and Keith. This has only happened three times, the last being the most memorable to Lance, because it was when he could feel a physical shift in their friendship to something charged, something electric. Something so that when Keith enters a room Lance’s stomach will flip, his chest filling with a warmth like drinking his mom’s Christmas hot toddies. Something so that he can feel a pull to gravitate towards Keith’s space, and he can feel the tug become taunt as he tries to stay away, wanting to give in so badly it scares him.
Lance and Keith’s last solo search in the Black Lion had started off like the previous two times- idle chit chat for the first hour, Keith situated in the pilot chair, his eyes glued to the screens before him while Lance idly flipped through his handheld on the bench behind the cockpit. He doesn’t remember how long it had been, but Lance realized Keith hadn’t said anything to him in a uncharacteristically long time. He sat up from the bench and peered over to the pilot chair. He could see the top of Keith’s mullet, but his hands weren’t on the controls.
“Keith?” Lance asked, with no response in return. Rude. Lance slowly got up from the bench and walked to the side of the pilot chair, finding Keith with his knees tucked up, arms crossed on top of them and his chin tucked down. His eyes were red and glassy. Lance ran a hand through his hair before walking over to the control boards in front of the pilot seat, sliding down to sit crisscross on the floor. Lance leaned his head back against the console while looking at Keith, and let the silence drag on.
Keith sniffled, his voice cracking when he finally spoke, “This isn’t fair.”
“I know,” Lance replied.
“This is stupid. ”
“I know.”
Keith pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I never cry.”
“It’s ok to.”
“ Tch . You sound like Shiro.”
“When did Shiro have to tell you it’s ok to cry?”
Keith looked up and locked eyes with Lance, his gaze boring into him so strongly that Lance held his breath and wanted to look away. He wouldn’t allow himself. Keith was looking for something, and Lance wanted to let him know that he could find it.
What felt like an eternity later, Keith finally looked away, “When my grandpa died.”
Lance exhaled, “How old were you?”
“Fourteen. He had Alzhiemers and couldn’t take care of me when my dad died, which is why I went into the system before I ended up with Shiro.”
Lance processed this information, this small offering of Keith’s personal life he trusted him with. He savored it. He looked at Keith sitting in the pilot chair, his knees still tucked up, his head leaning back against the headrest, his bangs sweeping across his forehead and his eyes still red. He looked strangely small.
“Come join me on the floor,” Lance blurted out.
Keith raised an eyebrow, “What?”
“Come join me on the floor dude, it’s lonely in that chair and I want to bring you down to my level once in a while,” Lance patted the space next to him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Lance groaned, “Can you just come here before I pull you out?” A small smirk passed over Keith’s face as he unfurled himself from the chair, “As much as I would like to see you try that, fine, you win.”
Keith slid into the spot next to Lance on the floor, his entire side pressed up against him, and god was he warm. Lance’s heartbeat fluttered, he wasn’t expecting so much physical contact with Keith when he invited him to the floor. Focus.
He let a minute pass between them, letting Keith relax next to him and breathe now that he was out of that seat. Lance stretched his legs out in front of him and knocked his foot against Keith’s. “We’ll find him,” he said softly, “none of us are giving up. Emotions are going to suck though until we do. It’s ok to be overwhelmed with them sometimes, you just have to let yourself feel and get it out, bottling it up will only get you so far.”
Keith hummed next to him, “That’s fair, I guess.”
Lance smiled and pressed on, “So if you ever need to sob on my shoulder, it’s always open for you-” Keith kicked his foot- “I’ll even write ‘Property of Keith’ on it for you-”
With that, Keith laughed and shoved Lance away. “Ok jerk,” but Keith was still snickering, and when Lance returned to Keith’s side, he crossed over and put his hand on Keith’s arm. “But really, Keith, if you ever want to talk more about Shiro, or anything, I’m here.”
Keith lightly touched Lance’s sleeve before quietly saying, “Thanks.”
It’s been a whirlwind ever since.
Keith actively seeks out Lance during freetime, Lance asks Keith to spare with him, Keith finds Lance late at night on the flight deck, and they always catch themselves sitting next to each other at dinner. When they’re alone, Keith shares stories of Shiro raising him, about how Shiro cried when Keith first told him he loved him, or how Shiro hilariously tried to make something called ‘spaghetti lasagna.’ Lance shares stories of his own family, when his dad surprised them all with a vacation to the snow, or when Veronica showed up home one day with 6 chickens. Each time they are together, it is harder and harder for Lance to pull away. Stolen glances become longer, standing becomes closer, touches beginning to linger. Lance’s flushed face while sparring is not just from the exercise.
The pull becomes more taunt.
Clean from his shower, Lance steps out of the bathroom and pulls out the formal jacket from his closet. He runs his fingers over the golden embroidered hem, his thumb gliding over the intricate work and lets his mind wonder. Tonight was different, Allura had said. She informed them that on planet Truleta, the royal families would be hosting a huge ball-like banquet for Team Voltron, and that this ball would include not only the usual dinner and socializing, but also dancing . Lance could hardly stand still when Allura had said that, because all he could think about was, somehow, getting Keith to dance with him. Platonically dancing with Keith. Could he handle keeping it platonic? As close as Lance and Keith have become, there is a line that Lance dares not to cross. Close friends, he tells himself, is all that is allowed. The fear of ruining everything between them- their friendship, their partnership, their whatever - keeps Lance rooted before the line. But tonight is special, with dancing, so maybe Lance can indulge himself just a little. He begins unbuttoning his jacket, letting his mind wonder,
Lance approaches Keith with as much confidence he can muster. Keith is staring at the twirling bodies in the middle of the grand room, the lights twinkling in his dark eyes and giving the features on his face a softness Lance rarely sees. Lance stands next to him, mirroring his position. “So,” Lance starts. “So,” Keith replies, acknowledging his presence.
“Do you want to dance?” Lance asks. Keith whips his head, eyes wide. Lance huffs, “Come on, just two guys, dancing, totally heterosexual-”
Wait, no.
“Allura turned me down, be a good friend and dance with me instead?-”
No, lying seems weird.
“What? It’ll be totally platonic-”
Well it should be, but Lance is indulging himself.
“You’re the leader of Voltron, you have to dance at least once tonight, Keith.”
Ok, that could work.
Keith looks down at the floor. Softly, he says, “I don’t know how to dance.” Lance holds his breath as he slides his hand into Keith’s and gives it a squeeze, cheeks warm, “It’s ok, you can trust me to lead.”
Keith looks at their entwined hands before glancing up at Lance. He can’t tell if the slight blush on Keith’s face is from the alien alcohol or from the handholding. Keith bites his lip before nodding once and putting on a determined face, “Fine, let’s just get it over with for appearances sake.”
Lance leads them to the middle of the floor, surrounded by other dancing bodies. He turns to face Keith and places his free hand at his waist, pulling him slightly closer. Keith places his free hand on Lance’s shoulder, locking eyes with Lance. Lance sucks in a breath, “Ok, when I step forward, you step back, and when I step back, you step forward. When I move to the side, you come with me. We’ll go in a square, go it?”
Keith adjusts his grip on Lance’s hand, “Got it.”
Lance steps forward, and Keith remembers to step back. They move to the side. Lance steps back and Keith follows him. Keith’s face is contorted from his heavy concentration. It’s adorable. They do this a couple times before Lance chuckles, “See? Easy.”
Keith looks at him and smiles, moving ever so slightly closer, “It’s not too bad with you teaching.”
His heart flutters and he smiles back, “Ok Mullet, are you ready to add some turns?”
Keith nods as Lance pulls them counterclockwise. The music is slow so they take their time with the steps before turning again. With each turn, their bodies get closer, and closer, until their chests are pressing together and Lance can feel Keith’s breath on his ear. Keith has wrapped his arm around Lance’s shoulder, and Lance moved his arm fully around Keith’s waist. Lance turns his head to look at Keith, only to find that Keith is already looking at him. Pupils wide, eye hooded, and lips slightly parted. Heat pools into Lance’s stomach and he grips Keith’s waist tighter. “Keith-”
But suddenly Keith is turning away, an unreadable expression on his face as he pulls Lance from the dance floor, away from the banquet and to a large set of double doors across the room.
“Keith?” Lance asks, but gets no response as Keith hastily opens the door and shuts it close behind them before continuing to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway. The muffled noise of music and laughter sinking behind them, Keith takes him farther along the hall before abruptly pushing Lance into an alcove, tucking them away from view. Lance’s back hits against the wall harshly, shutting his eyes on the impact. When he opens them, he finds Keith hovering over Lance, looking at him like moments ago when they were dancing. A hand comes up to cup Lance’s face, a thumb brushing up from his lips to his cheek. Lance grabs Keith’s waist and pulls him in so they are flushed together. Keith brings his other hand up, carding his fingers through Lance’s hair. Lance shivers from the notion but heat begins to pool in his stomach as Keith tilts Lance’s head up. Wait, when did Keith get taller than him?
“Can I kiss you?”
A knock at the door sends Lance jumping into the air with a yelp. Recomposing himself, he quickly throws on a pair of sweats before tripping to the door. Hunk is supposed to come over to do a face mask with him, but he’s 20 minutes ahead of schedule.
“Hunk, you’re a little early buddy-,” but when he opens the door, Lance is met with a pair of violet eyes. Keith was standing outside Lance’s room, arms crossed and face neutral. His eyes flicker down to Lance’s exposed chest and then quickly back up to his face, cheeks pinkening just the slightest bit, making Lance feel slightly embarrassed under his gaze. He makes a mental note to himself that he is still, in fact, an inch taller than Keith.
He leans an arm up against the doorframe, “Oh, Keith, I was just thinking about you. Were your ears ringing?”
Keith raises an eyebrow and smirks, “Half naked?”
Lance’s brain short circuits as he feels warmth rising to his cheeks. He coughs into his fist, “What’s up, mullet?” Nailed it.
“Just wanted to remind you about the meeting in an hour. Were you expecting Hunk?” Keith asks, shifting on his feet. His eyes flicker to Lance’s chest again.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen the guy in like a week, he’s been stuck in the lab with Pidge.”
“Cool, ok, well, see you.” Keith abruptly turns and walks down the hall towards the training room.
“See you, samurai!” Lance calls after him, subsequently retreating back into his room and dramatically flops onto his bed with a groan. He slaps his hands to his cheeks. Was Keith checking him out just now? It was subtle, but Keith blushed at him, right? Maybe being shirtless in front of Keith was crossing a line? But they’re been shirtless around each other before, they went swimming in the weird Altean pool multiple times. Lance sighs as he spirals on what ifs, until another knock on his door pulls him out. Lance checks his handheld and sees Hunk was right on time. He bounces to the door, opening it with a grin on his face, and is met with a bear crushing hug. He can barely breathe and lets out a short chuckle, patting Hunk on the back. “Missed you too buddy,” he chokes out. Lance is released from Hunks arms and pushes back, seeing the exhaustion on his friends face. “I am ready to do a face mask and not think about computers for the next 30 minutes. Show me what you got.”
Hunk pulls Lance into the room and flops on his bed while Lance grabs the masks from the bathroom. He returns with an armful of jars and settles to the floor, gingerly placing them in a line. He swallows nervously, “So, Hunk, now that you’re here I wanted your advice on something.”
Hunk sits up on the bed, “Sure dude, what’s up?”
Lance brings his knees up to his chest. Hunk knows about his feelings towards Keith, Hunk putting it as “I’m not blind, Lance.” Still, he doesn’t particularly like talking about it; he’s already made the decision to never tell Keith.
“Allura mentioned there would be dancing tonight. So I’m thinking, depending on how the night goes, of asking Keith to dance with me. You know, uh, platonically.”
A beat of silence. Hunk’s face is blank as he stares back at Lance.
“Yeah dude, I don’t see why not,” Hunk finally says, his expression carefully unreadable as he slides off the bed to pick up a jar and examine the label.
Nerves flare up in Lance’s chest, “Hunk, what was that pause? Why did you pause before answering me? Is it a bad idea?”
“No no, it’s fine! You should do it!” Hunk sets down a jar and puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder, grounding him, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out, I just uh, was surprised I guess. By the topic. Anyways, ask Keith to dance. It’ll be fun.” Hunk pats his shoulder before pulling away. Hunk is acting a little weird.
“Do you think it's a mistake to ask him? Is it crossing a line?” Lance asks, disappointment filling his mind.
“No no!” Hunk quickly answers, “No, Lance, I think it’s a great idea. It’ll get Keith out of his shell for a bit and look good for the leaders of Truleta.”
Lance relaxes a bit. The plan is still a go, unless Lance chickened out, which there was maybe a 25% chance of happening. He silently pleads to the space gods there will be alcohol for liquid courage.
Hunk lightly slaps his arm, “now come on, which mask should I use?”
--
They park their lions at the coordinates provided by the Truletans and travel to the gala by a courier that was waiting for them on site. The gala was being held at the region’s royal family castle, which Lance saw flying in was an actual castle. Upon currently flying closer in the courier’s vessel, he can see the large structure on top of a small hill in the middle of the surrounded city. The castle is not as big as the castle ship, but still grand nonetheless. The sight reminds Lance of Earth; Truelta, or at least this region, being quite similar in European architecture. The Truletans are also a humanoid species, their skin a variety of colors with lighter patches randomly placed on their bodies- like vitiligo, Pidge pointed out.
Their courier drops them off at the castle steps. Lance pauses to look up at the fortress looming above him, momentarily in awe. The castle was made of gray, thick cut bricks, and the central part of the building stood four stories tall. Large windows speckled the walls, some boarded with yellow and purple stained glass. Several steps lay before him, lined with light posts giving off a soft glow.
“Personally, not as impressive as the castles from Altea, but I am biased,” Allura appears next to him, surprising Lance out of his trance. Her curls are in a high ponytail, her bangs framing her face perfectly. She is sporting a pink cape tonight with her blue jacket, the top of it connected to her shoulder plate and one end hooked to her opposite hip. Lance frowns.
“Why can’t I get a cape?” he asks, crossing his arms and playfully pouting. Allura rolls her eyes and shifts her weight, popping her hip, “I’m a princess.”
“That’s fair,” Lance laughs and looks back up at the castle, “You know, this castle reminds me a bit of old castles back on Earth. It’s kinda weird in similarities. It feels like I’m walking into a fairytale.”
Allura nods, “Yes, I also feel like I am in a fantasy, but because it reminds me of parties we hosted on Altea for celebrations,” she sighs, “Looks like we are both a little homesick tonight.”
Lance looks over to meet Allura’s sad gaze, and reaches out to give her hand a squeeze. He flashes her a supportive smile, “Let’s have fun while we can then.” He drops her hand and offers her his arm. She smiles back while linking her arm with his, and together they walk up the stairs to meet with the rest of the team. Lance immediately finds Keith’s eyes on him, hands on his hips and dripping in golden light. Lance drinks in his appearance like thick honey. Despite the softness of the atmosphere, Keith’s jaw is clenched and his mouth is in a tight line. Allura unlinks their arms and walks over to Pidge and Hunk, most likely to remind them to behave themselves. Lance puts his hands in his pockets and strolls over to Keith’s side, knocking their elbows together.
“You good samurai? You look like you’re about to run.”
Keith inhales and exhales through his nose, “Yeah, it’s just, uh, probably going to be a long night.”
“Hm, yeah, probably. But just look at this place!” Lance turns and waves his arm to the castle beside them, “you can’t tell me this isn’t amazing. When in your life would you ever think you’d be essentially attending a fancy ball in a legit castle?”
Keith did not seem as dazzled. “This is a diplomatic gala,” he says seriously.
Lance scoffs, “Keith, this is a party. Try to have fun at least for five minutes tonight.”
Keith stiffens, “You know I can be fun,” he challenges, “but parties are just, ugh, hard, sometimes. I don’t feel like I’m on my A-game tonight. I feel...distracted.”
Lance looks hard at the side of Keith’s face, focusing on the sharpness of his jawline, “Yeah I get what you mean.”
Lance watches as Keith glances at him, the lights reflecting off his stupidly majestic eyes. He swallows, and tries not to let his own eyes wander down to Keith’s lips, “It’ll be fine man, if you need rescuing, I’ll be close. You trust me, right?”
Keith’s posture visibly relaxes and a small smile appears on his face, “You make it hard not to.”
His stomach does a somersault. Curse Keith and his obliviousness, doesn’t he realize saying things like that while looking at him like he’s a breath of relief makes Lance a puddle at his feet? Fills his body with a buzz of electricity that won’t quit for hours? Makes his heart stop like he’s been shot by Cupid himself? Does he realize…?
Barely holding onto his restraint to not aggressively kiss him on the spot, Lance coughs into his fist before saying, “Y-yeah, well, I’m your right hand man, so that’s my job.”
Keith chuckles, “Right.” He pauses, looking at Lance’s shoulder. He brings up his hand to brush away something (fuzz? hair? a leaf?), the weight of his finger’s lingering, “You look good in red.”
Lance feels like he got sucker punched in the gut, his breath hitching and his heartbeat loud in his ears. He’s sure his face is turning into the same color as his jacket. Before he could begin to process a response, Keith was walking away. “Come on,” he calls from over his shoulder, “let’s go inside.”
Keith is right- this is going to be a long night.
-
They got through introductions relatively fast, which Lance was thankful for even though he only remembers three out of fifteen names. All four of the royal families were present for the gala, the war with the Galra uniting them to all be on relatively good terms with each other. Now that Voltron pushed out the Galra presence in their outer moon system, tonight was a celebration as well as a means to discuss further details of joining the Voltron Coalition. After meeting the families, their arrival was announced to the rest of the guests, ushering them onto a balcony overlooking the main ballroom to wave to the sea of people below before releasing them to mingle as they please.
Lance begins his rounds, introducing himself to various groups of Truletans as well as the other alien species invited to the gala. He makes jokes, asks questions about their ways of life, maybe flirts just a little with a few winks here and there, earning him shy giggles and a couple of winks back.
He spots Keith across the room, speaking one on one with a Truletan woman in a beautiful flowing dress. His arms are crossed, which is Keith code for “keep your distance.” Lance walks up to them, their conversation becoming louder.
“Surely you must take breaks, as the Black paladin you should be able sanction that for a quick trip around town,” she says, her tone pressing him to agree. Keith opens his mouth but Lance speaks up, “Keith? Taking a break? Ha! As one of the most dedicated-to-the-cause people I know, Keith hasn’t thought about taking a break since we became paladins, miss…?” Lance extends his hand toward the flowy dress woman. She takes his bait with a smile on her face, “Paladin Lance! What an honor, my name is Srila.”
Lance returns the smile as he places a kiss on her hand, “Miss Srila. Thank you for keeping my colleague company but I must take him for a while. Excuse us.”
She bows them goodbye as Lance takes Keith’s elbow and guides him to the opposite side of the room. When they were no longer within earshot of Srila, Keith let out a groan.
“Thank you, she was trying to convince me to meet up with her outside the gala to show me the city. She was being very insistent.” Keith’s face as set in a scowl, which to Lance, was very cute because everything Keith does was cute, but in public at a diplomatic party, it was not a good look.
“You know what you need? A drink.” Lance grabs a glass of something pink and bubbling off a tray from a server walking past them. He smells it as Keith hovers close by, waiting for him to have a taste. It smells sweet. Hoping for the best, he takes a small sip, the bubbles fizzing over his tongue as the flavor fills his mouth.
“Kinda weird, but it tastes like off-brand cherries. Also there is definitely alcohol in it,” Lance grins as he hands the glass to Keith. He enthusiastically takes a swig as Lance grabs another drink from the same server who gives him a funny look. Lance tilts his glass towards Keith, “Cheers to surviving the night.”
Keith clinks his glass with Lance’s and downs the rest of his drink. His Adam's apple bobs as he finishes it off and Lance shamelessly stares.
“Ready to get back out there?” he asks, clapping hard on Keith’s shoulder, letting out a grunt in response. “I’ll stay close,” he adds. Keith flashes him a quick smile before walking off ahead.
--
Lance has completely lost Keith. One minute he was staring at the back of his mullet while eating some food with Pidge, and the next Lance was left looking like a lost child at a fair, twirling in a circle looking for any sign of Keith’s shaggy head. He is starting to become frantic, because in his fast paced search for Keith, Lance noticed more musicians joining the orchestra. Soon. Soon it was going to be time to dance.
His anxiety starts to bubble.
He spots Allura and Coran across the room, thankfully chatting about something to themselves, and makes the physical effort to approach them as casually as he can muster. He grabs another drink off a nearby tray before stepping next to Allura.
“How are you holding up?” he asks, offering her a small smile. Allura looks back at him beaming.
“Lance! I am having a marvelous time. Coran and I were just discussing how our conversations with the royal families have been going wonderfully. You seem...on edge?”
She places a hand on top of a finger he was subconsciously tapping against his arm. Shit. “No no! I’m fine,” he takes a sip of his drink to wash down his embarrassment, “Have you guys seen Keith?”
Allura’s face changes openly from concern into a smirk.
“Ah! Number 4, I believe I saw him slip through the double doors at the other side of the room about 15 doboshes ago.”
He turns and walks away before Coran finishes his sentence, discarding his drink on a nearby table. “Thanks Coran!” he shouts over his shoulder. The music that was once playing softly in the background of the loud chatter of the ballroom becomes more prominent. As Lance briskly makes his way to the doors, he can see people turning their heads toward the direction of the orchestra, the energy of the room shifting. Where the quiznack is Keith?!
He places a hand on the door handle and forces himself to take a breath. Everything is fine. He is going to ask Keith to dance. He is going to ask Keith to dance. If Keith refuses him, fine, but he’s made up his mind to do it. No harm, no foul. Keith is going to be behind these doors, he’s going to swoop him off his feet, dance the night away, and live happily ever after.
Pushing his anxiety back into its box, he moves through the doors and slowly closes them behind, the quiet of the large hall before him daunting. His steps are muffled by the carpet beneath him, the soft glow of the lamps casts shadows into the branching halls and doorways to his left. Large windows lined the wall on his right, giving him a view of what he guessed were the gardens. He comes to a stop. “Keith?” he cautiously calls out.
“Lance?” Keith leans out from an alcove three doors down from where Lance stands. Relief immediately washes over him, to the point that Lance restrains himself from letting a sigh pass his lips. Keith’s eyebrows are knitted together, still hiding most of his body from the rest of the hall, “What are you doing here?”
Lance begins to walk over to him, “Looking for you. You disappeared on me.”
“It was loud,” is all he says as Lance ducks into the alcove. He leans against the wall opposite of Keith, putting his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting. Keith’s arms are crossed, but his shoulders are relaxed. “Just needed a break.”
“It’s nice over here,” Lance offers. He makes eye contact with Keith, and for a second Lance lets himself really look at him. His shoulders are not relaxed, on further inquiry, but slumped. The shadows of the alcove are harsh on the circles beneath his eyes. His hair was more unkempt than usual, giving the impression he may have been running a hand through it more than once.
“You look tired,” Lance says before he can stop himself. He mentally slaps his forehead as Keith gives him a pointed look, “Gee thanks.”
Lance flounders, “I just meant-! Ugh, I just meant like, are you okay? You said you felt distracted earlier, and you look a little rougher than usual. What’s on your mind?”
Keith looks away and stays silent. He waits for a response, but the silence drags and turns into a heaviness that Lance can feel in his chest. Maybe he was stupid for thinking Keith would open up to him whenever he asks. He feels awkward now- how was he going to recover from this loaded silence?
“Can I ask you something?” Keith says suddenly, pulling Lance from his train of thought.
He swallows, “Yeah, sure.”
“What did you mean in the Black Lion back then?”
Lance raises a questioning eyebrow and Keith huffs in return, “When you said you wanted to ‘bring you down to your level’ or whatever.”
“Wait, what?” Lance is taken aback. Keith remembers him saying that? “Dude, that was months ago.”
“Yeah?”
“And that’s what’s been bothering you tonight?”
“Not just tonight, and I mean, no- it’s part of it, I guess…” Keith trails off, looking off to the side. Lance, for maybe the twentieth time of the night, starts to panic. He was expecting Keith to open up to him, not the other way around. He’s not ready to open that door to Keith, to show a part of him that he’s not proud of. The jealousy, the longing, the feeling of inadequacy.
“Part of it?” Lance inquires. Maybe he can steer the conversation to another problem Keith is facing.
“Like 30% of it.”
“That’s... higher than I was expecting,” Lance refuses to make eye contact with Keith, if he’s even looking. He stares hard at Keith’s boots. Maybe if he stares long enough, the floor will swallow him.
“Well?” Keith pushes. Lance swallows. He feels completely off guard, almost cornered. He feels like Keith was trying to chainsaw him open and see the ugly inside he desperately tries to hide.
Was that fair to Keith though? For months, Lance has picked apart Keith’s many walls, slowly taking them down brick by brick to witness the Keith only a few get to see. He’s created a friendship with Keith that felt deep, coming from an understanding of you watch my back, and I’ll watch yours. They’re partners. Lance has gotten Keith to confide in him various burdens, was it so much for Keith to ask the same from him? But how do you answer when the source of those burdens is asking?
How do you answer when you are possibly in love with them?
“It was nothing, man,” Lance plays off, finally looking up at Keith. He tries to keep his voice light, “I’m just used to being in your shadow. I was just joking around to make you feel better.”
“What? That doesn’t make me feel better at all,” Keith narrows his eyes. “You insulting yourself at my expense doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Okay, okay, relax! It’s fine, I won’t do it again,” Lance tries, but Keith speaks up again.
“And what do you mean ‘being in my shadow?’” he pushes, sounding angry.
Crap. Why couldn’t his dumb mouth have said something less conspicuous? Lance knows Keith won’t be satisfied with any more run-around answers, he dug himself into a deep hole. He’s terrified of letting Keith know the truth, terrified of Keith’s perception of Lance changing into something Lance could only imagine as less, because that’s how Lance views those parts of himself. It’s hypocritical of him, because Keith could confess his darkest secrets to Lance and Lance wouldn’t judge him or think less of him. But that was the problem- he wouldn’t do that to Keith because he loves him, while Lance is still learning to love himself.
How long can Lance keep his facade going? He’s already in a position right here with the cracks falling away. It is exhausting, and Lance is so tired .
“I’m just used to being compared to you.”
“By who?”
“The Garrison. Iverson.... me,” Lance starts tapping his foot on the carpet below him. “Look, you were top of the class, and I was trying to be the same. But no matter how hard I tried, you always beat me, and you made it look effortless when I was busting my ass. You were standoff and aloof, and I never had the confidence to approach you, so I created a rivalry between us in my head because it was easier than to talk to you. I put you on a pedestal I desperately was trying to knock down. And then you got kicked out.” Lance pauses and looks into Keith’s eyes. He doesn’t look mad anymore, thankfully, but more concerned. Lance licks his lips, “You got kicked out. And I finally made it to fighter class because of that, and that’s all Iverson could talk about. If I messed up, it was ‘You’re only here because Kogane isn’t,’ or if I did good, it was ‘Keep it up and you’ll be as good as Kogane one day.’ It didn’t matter that you weren’t there anymore, I was still never enough to catch up to you, and I internalized that. If we never became paladins of Voltron and we never saw each other again, I think I would always compare myself to you, envy you, and hate you, because that’s what was being ingrained in me at the Garrison.”
The thoughts that have haunted him for years - it feels freeing finally getting it out. Keith opens his mouth to respond but Lance puts up a hand and cuts him off, “Which is why, amongst other reasons, becoming a paladin with you has been a blessing. Do I still compare myself to you? Absolutely. I became your replacement, again, with the Lion switch. I’m still in your shadow and it still hurts deep down. But becoming friends with you? No longer hating you? I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he finishes trying to end on a good note, looking hopeful at Keith who is looking dumbstruck back at him with his winded admission.
Lance can see the gears working in Keith’s head to find the words to respond.
“I’m...sorry,” he finally gets out, which is not exactly what Lance was expecting.
“Sorry for what? None of it is really your fault.”
“I’m literally the root of your insecurities, so yes , I’m sorry. My turn to speak,” Keith snaps, making Lance shut his mouth on the retort he was about to give. “ I’m sorry, because I never acknowledged you back at the Garrison when I did notice you. It’s not hard, it's you . But I was too much of a shithead to talk to you, I didn’t know how, and so I ignored you. I didn’t know you were trying to ‘beat me,’ I didn’t know I was having that affect on you. And I definitely didn’t know Iverson was going to compare you to me every chance he got. He hated me! I punched him!”
Lance squawks, “WHAT?”
“Not now. When I left the Garrison, I didn’t think of the effect it would have, because I didn’t think there’d be one. I was a nobody. I wasn’t friends with anyone and most of the teachers hated me. So when I tell you I am surprised that they emotionally fucked with you by using me, please believe me. Even if I was an ass to you, I would never wish that on you. You have to believe me when,” Keith takes a step towards Lance and almost, almost makes a move that looks like he is reaching for his hand, “when I say that I have never looked down on you, or anything but my equal. My really, really annoying equal,” he smiles as says that, and Lance tries to soak it in, but his vision begins to blur with tears that he refuses to let fall. “I don’t know how to make it up to you, or how to get you to believe me when I say that comparing yourself to me isn’t fair, because you are so much more than you apparently realize.”
Lance brings an arm up to cover his eyes, shielding Keith away from seeing the tears roll down his face, “I don’t believe you.”
Keith grabs Lance’s hand that’s down at his side and squeezes it. “We’ll work on it,” he says softly.
They stand together in comfortable silence as Lance composes himself. Keith repositions next to him, leaning back on the wall while still holding his hand. Lance finishes wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket and looks over at Keith, laughing nervously. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, slightly embarrassed from the moment.
Keith just smiles back at him, looking at him fondly, “Thank you for telling me. I know that probably wasn’t easy to share, or to hear my response.”
Lance lets out a shaky laugh, “No, not particularly. Kinda weirding me out too that you’re the one comforting me and not the other way around.”
“Hey, I’m learning,” Keith rolled his eyes but continued to smile. He turns his body so he’s facing Lance and his shoulder is resting against the wall, still holding Lance’s hand. A serious expression crosses his face.
“Listen, Lance. I’m really glad you don’t hate me anymore. It’s important to me you know that I care about you. Y-you’re my friend, probably the closest friend I’ve had besides Shiro, and I care about your feelings. I want to be someone you can come to about the hard stuff. I know I’m not the most eloquent with words but I can at least listen. You’re important to me. Really important,” Keith’s cheeks were pink, matching Lance’s. “I think I-”
The echoing click of the door at the end of the hall followed by the loud, clear commotion of the ballroom filled the hallway, cutting Keith off from continuing. The door shut loudly, followed by a hurried pair of footsteps, heavy against the carpet. Lance let go of Keith’s hand, his brain screaming at whoever just interrupted whatever was about to happen, and poked his head out into the hall. A short, Truletan man was briskly walking toward them, his face contorted into a scowl. Lance recognized him as one of the royal family advisors.
“RED PALADIN LANCE. There you are! Do you know the whereabouts of the Black Paladin?” he barked loudly. Keith responded by popping his head out from the alcove. “I’m here,” he said.
“Black Paladin Keith! Your disappearance was appropriately noted. As an advisor I can tell you that your absence during such an important event is not good for appearance,” he says, annoyance clear in his voice.
Lance can see that Keith is trying very hard to maintain his composure, his mouth in a tight, forced smile.
“Apologies for the sudden disappearance. Paladin Lance and I were privately discussing important intel that came to us earlier today on another matter. We were just wrapping up to rejoin the party,” he says coolly. Lance could see the strain in Keith's fists, tight and knuckle-white at his sides.
The adviser became red in the face, “M-my apologies, I didn’t realize important matters were being discussed. The traditional dances have begun, it would be excellent for you two to take part,” he says in a much calmer tone, the hint of annoyance still there.
“Certainly, we’ll be there in a few doboshes. If you would excuse us?” Lance insists.
“Of course,” the advisor huffs in response and turns to make his loud exit at the end of the hall.
When the door finally clicks, Lance lets out a large sigh. “Holy shit that guy had a stick up his ass.”
Keith groans as he slides down the wall into a crouching position, putting his head in his hands, “I almost punched him. I hate being the leader.”
Lance laughs, “Hate to break it to you buddy, but you wouldn’t have been allowed to punch him even if you weren’t the leader.” His heart skips a beat, this was his chance, “Come on Keith, you heard the guy, we have to go dance.”
Keith looks up at him with a deadpan stare. “Don’t look at me like that,” Lance continues, “your reputation is apparently on the line. It’ll be fun, I’ll teach you,” he offers his hand out to Keith, wiggling his fingers and reciting a silent prayer that he’ll take it.
Keith lets out a small, carefree chuckle, “I know how to dance, Lance.”
Out of all the scenarios Lance has played in his head for this moment, none of them included what just came out of Keith’s mouth. Lance couldn’t stop his face from showing a bewildered expression, his brain slowly catching up to form words.
“Uh- what? Really? How?”
“My dad would drive me to a bar in the next town that had western nights and we’d dance for hours with the locals,” Keith closes his eyes, at peace recalling a memory he must hold dear. His expression is so soft, Lance’s body is buzzing with restraint to not crouch down and kiss the smile on Keith’s face.
“Ok then, cowboy, show me what you got,” Lance says with a smirk, his heart skipping a beat when Keith finally takes his hand to help him up. “Is it cowboy or samurai?” Keith jokes.
“What can I say, you have the range,” Lance nudges Keith playfully as they make their way to the end of the hall and reenter the ballroom. Loud music overtakes their senses as they join the crowd surrounding a swarm of people dancing in the center of the room. They squeeze their way to the front, where Lance could see that the dancing ahead of them was in choreographed groups before splitting into pairs, twirling around the room before switching to a new partner.
Seems like dancing with Keith is going to be a little more complicated than planned.
Before Lance could devise a plan, Allura and Pidge spun before them. Their eyes locked with his and Keith’s, huge grins on their faces as they excitedly exclaimed at them, Pidge grabbing Lance to join and Allura dragging Keith away, waltzing towards the center of the floor. Lance cries out in surprise, Pidge laughing below him as they circle up with five other Truletans. He follows the moves of the others, trying to get the flow of the dance before breaking off with Pidge again to move across the floor. He tries to look around for any sign of Keith, when suddenly Pidge steps on his foot.
“OW, Pidge, what the hell?” he looks down at her to find her smirking.
“Trying to find Keith?” she asks, her tone thick with tease.
Lance sputters, “W-what? Pidge, mind your own business!” He whips his head to the left and finally sees Keith. Allura is whispering (shouting?) something in his ear and he looks…embarrassed? His face is completely flushed, his movements flustered as they continue to move across the room.
A hundred pound rock falls into Lance’s stomach. Was Keith acting that way because he was dancing with Allura? Did Keith have feelings for her? Confusion sweeps over him, his grip tightening on Pidge for support. That wouldn’t make sense though, right? Keith has never acted that way towards Allura, and not to mention the conversation that took place in the hall just moments ago- their hands intertwined, Keith looking at him like he wanted to melt on the spot, saying what almost sounded like, like a-
Like a confession.
Pidge looks over to where Keith and Allura are. She lets out a laugh and releases Lance's hand to flick his forehead. “Don’t be an idiot,” she shouts at him.
Before he can ask what she means, she turns away, leaving him for a different partner as another twirls in front of him. A small Truletan woman takes Lance’s hand and puts her other on his shoulder. He politely smiles at her as they glide to the left, joining another circle and then branching off together again. Lance is distracted, looking for Keith the whole time. He feels a little guilty for neglecting his partner, but he wants to see how well Keith can dance.
He spots him nearby, looking down at his feet momentarily before suddenly looking up to meet Lance’s gaze. A bright smile stretches across his face, and butterflies erupt in Lance’s stomach, no longer feeling the uneasiness from Keith’s earlier behavior with Allura. Lance’s partner suddenly disappears, replaced with a Truletan man. Lance looks around and does the math in his head- 5 more partners until he’s with Keith. He can barely contain his excitement. When they join a circle, Keith is across from him, their eyes only on each other while they go through the movements. They simultaneously reach out for each other, their fingertips brushing as they are both pulled away by their partners. He watches as Keith is handed to his new partner and Lance is spun into his, his back thumping against a broad chest. Lance is giddy with warmth, watching Keith’s smile disappear into the crowd. A hand grips at Lance’s waist as another clasps his hand, and he suddenly feels a breath by his ear, “Hello, Paladin.”
Lance goes rigid. He feels his blood go cold and makes the physical strain to not let his knees cave under him. He suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. He knows that voice. He knows that voice. The voice that’s been playing on repeat in his head since he first heard it, the voice that’s been haunting his dreams for weeks.
Lotor.