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Urgh.
That one word, inked onto Lance’s left wrist, had made his life a living hell. Well, not literally. But the word was what his soulmate was supposed to say to him. Which could mean a few things, of course. It could mean that he overhears them complaining about bad service or something worse. It could mean that he says something stupid and this is the response. It could mean that someone sets them up and the person says that in response because it’s the third time that week.. It could mean that he would turn up at the ER with a stupid injury and the person would be annoyed at seeing how stupid he could truly be.
Or, as he had so often thought, to the point of anxiety, it could mean that his soulmate was completely disgusted by the mere sight of him.
He’d tried to compensate by being funny and helpful and to rein in some of his worst aspects. But his friends had, eventually, convinced him that that wasn’t a way to live. His family had been distraught that he’d been worrying about it for so long and convinced him to always talk to them whenever he was in their presence, about anything and everything. And he did share more of himself with them after that, though he still hid how much it hurt to see the word.
Thankfully, they all seemed to know, and he was gifted a series of multi-coloured wristbands. He wore one every day, covering the one thing that told him that he had a soulmate. Slowly, he was able to stop thinking about it all and he began to live, pretending that he didn’t have one at all.
One night, as he returned home from Pidge’s place - her family had invited them all for dinner before she and Hunk began their project about something or other - Lance decided to use a shortcut. It meant going down a side street that was almost narrow enough to be an alley but was usually well-lit. When he reached the place, however, he found that the streetlights in the area were all out. He bit his lip, considered his options, the time it was, and the detour he would have to do, before he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
Since he could see nobody standing around, Lance made his decision and cautiously began to make his way along the street. As he walked, he swung his light to and fro, checking behind dumpsters to make sure there was no-one lurking there. Just as he began to relax, halfway along the road, Lance stepped on something big and squishy. With a yelp, he sprang back and tilted his light down at the ground.
Sprawled there, crumpled and curved around his own body, was a man. He had long, dark hair that had fanned out behind his head, revealing a strong jaw and a grimace of pain. His clothes were also dark, though Lance could make out the red in the jacket. Or was that…? Held in one of his hands was a clearly busted phone, his hands somewhat protected from the broken glass by his fingerless gloves.
For a moment, Lance could only stare. Then the man stirred and groaned. “Urgh,” he said.
“Holy crow!” Lance exclaimed when he spotted the dark stains on the man’s clothes and the blood on his face.
Slowly, the man opened his eyes. He looked a little dazed and surprised for a split second. Then he grimaced and Lance realised that Lance was shining his flashlight in his face. Gasping, Lance tilted it away and quickly crouched down. The man was trying to move - like an idiot - and Lance gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t move,” he said. “You could hurt yourself more.”
“You’re…” the man croaked before he began coughing. It sounded wet and Lance grew more concerned, his heart hammering.
“Don’t talk either,” he warned, pointing threateningly at him. He tapped at his phone, and typed in 91-
“What are you doing?” rasped the man, beginning to shift again. He managed to pull one for his arms towards him and looked like he was about to push himself upright.
Hurriedly, Lance held out a hand above his elbow. “No. Stop! I’m calling an ambulan-”
“No,” snapped the man. “Don’t.”
“‘Don’t’?!” exclaimed Lance. “Dude! You’re dying!”
“I’m fin-” The man broke off with another coughing fit.
“Yes, that’s completely obvious,” Lance replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just… Let me help you, you stubborn butthole.”
“‘Butthole’,” the man murmured.
Lance was glad for the darkness because he felt himself blush. “Shut up,” he said, “and let me get you help.”
“I don’t need an ambulance,” the man protested once more.
“Then I’ll drive you there.”
“You don’t have a car,” the man pointed out. “And I can get home myself.”
“Look…” Lance shook his head. “Sorry, what’s your name?”
“Keith.”
“I’m Lance,” he told Keith. “Nice to meet you, I guess. Anyway, I’m calling my brother to bring my car here and then I’m taking you to a hospital.”
“I don’t-”
Lance threw out a hand. Keith flinched. Instead of hitting him, though, Lance merely pressed a finger to Keith’s lips. “Uh, buh buh buh, no,” Lance said, rather nonsensically. “Enough. Stop being so stupid.”
“I’m not-” Keith began, but he stopped with a wince and took several deep breaths. “Fine,” he grumbled.
Grinning, Lance called his brother and got his rescue operation underway.
Unfortunately for Lance, Marco was unimpressed with what Lance had been planning to do. For the entire ride to the hospital, Marco lectured him about personal safety after dark. Lance tried to argue that he’d saved someone’s life by taking the shortcut, but his brother was having none of it. In the back of the car, Keith was silent save for when they drove over a bump and he groaned in pain.
Once they reached the hospital, Keith was ushered away. Then there was waiting and doctors and nurses and a brother rushing in. Marco tried to convince Lance to leave, but something kept him there and he insisted on waiting to hear if Keith was alright. Eventually, Marco left him, but only after he had promised to call a cab to get him home.
After a while, he managed to convince a nurse to let him in to see Keith who had been set up in his own room. His brother was in there, a broad-chested man with a swathe of white in his fringe. Sharp eyes looked at Lance and, for a moment, Lance felt like a kid who was in trouble. Then the guy smiled and Lance relaxed; the man now looked kind and, for some reason, rather pleased.
“Uh, hi,” Lance said. “I just wanted to see if Keith was okay before I go home?”
The man grinned. “Uh huh. I’m gonna get going, so I’ll leave you to it.” He moved towards Lance where he stood awkwardly in front of the door. A hand fell on Lance’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m Shiro,” the man said. “I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.” And, with that cryptic message, he left.
Blinking, Lance glanced over his shoulder as the door swung closed before he turned to Keith. The injured party seemed to be blushing, which was odd. Confused on several counts, Lance shrugged it off and headed for the bed. “Budge up?” he asked.
Awkwardly, Keith shuffled an inch to the left and Lance was able to perch on the bed. Lance looked at him, taking in his appearance now that he could see him better. Keith’s eyes were particularly enticing. They were blue, but there also seemed to be a deeper colour, a purple? Unable to help himself, Lance stared, picking out more and more colours.
“Um, thanks,” said Keith, suddenly. Lance jolted in surprise, and refocussed, noticing how embarrassed Keith seemed to be. “Apparently, I had a few broken ribs and I could’ve died if I’d tried to move too much.”
Lance snorted. “Of course,” he said. “What kind of idiot wakes up in the middle of an alley and tries to move when he’s in pain? Honestly! I was really worried you were gonna kill yourself!”
Smiling, Keith shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Shaking his head, Lance took a deep breath. “But you’re gonna be fine, right? I can go home without having to check in again, right?”
The tentative smile fell. “You… don’t want to keep in touch?” Keith asked. There was a tension in his voice; Lance couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset.
“Well, I mean,” Lance said, floundering. “If you want to? I don’t mind making a new friend!” He dug his phone out of his pocket before holding it with two hands, navigating to his contacts. “What’s your num-?”
Suddenly, Keith’s hand was holding onto Lance’s left arm. His other hand tugged at the wristband that hid Lance’s soulmate word. “What’s this?” he demanded.
Frozen in place, Lance said, “What’s it to you? I don’t- Wait! What’re you doing?!” He tried to tug his arm free, but it was too late. Keith easily slipped the wristband free and exposed the ugly word on his skin. Flinching, Lance tugged more harshly against Keith’s grip and freed himself, at the expense of his phone which he dropped onto the bed.
He stumbled away. “What the heck, Keith?!” he cried. Self-conscious, he wrapped his fingers around his wrist, hiding the word. “Why would you do that?!” he demanded as his eyes began to fill with tears.
Keith’s eyes widened and he held his hands up in surrender. “Just- Do you remember what my first word to you was?”
“I…” Lance’s eyes darted around the room, unsure what was happening. He shook his head. “I-I think you said something like… Like, ‘don’t’. I don’t remember. I was a bit panicked.”
Shaking his head, Keith held up the wristband. “I’m pretty sure I groaned. I definitely remember you saying this first,” he said, and held up his left arm.
Hesitantly, Lance let his gaze be drawn to the words inked into Keith’s wrist. He squinted at them. Then he, equally hesitantly, stepped closer to get a better look. The words were… “Holy crow,” he whispered, his eyes wide as he took in those exact words on Keith’s skin. He looked down at his own wrist, replaying the scene in his head: stepping on Keith, looking down, Keith’s groan… “You- Holy crow,” Lance moved closer, in a daze. “You- You’re… You’re my soulmate.”
Keith caught his gaze and nodded, a small, shy smile on his face. “Yeah.”
Knees weak, Lance let himself fall onto the bed. He was sitting on his phone, but he didn’t care. Instead, he reached out for Keith’s hand and he clasped it, his wristband held between them. For a moment, he merely gazed at Keith, awed and relieved.
Then, in an effort to keep from crying or making more of a fool of himself, he punched Keith on the shoulder. “And you were going to die before we met?!” he demanded.
Instead of being offended, Keith threw his head back and laughed, and Lance fell in love.