Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The universe was a mercurial, fickle thing. She was unpredictable and uncertain, shifting like the tides in the ocean. Nothing set in stone; nothing was definitive. Nothing was made to last forever, save for the universe itself in her unending void of darkness and light; eternal, terrifying, absolute.

For all the beauty and light she cast into the world, Man loved to blame her for the woes that they faced– but while the laws of actuality were shaped by Her, the way of life played out was entirely at the hands of Man. The things that wrought them apart, their concept of standards, of status, of perfection, were all pains of Man’s very own design.

Oh, there was no pain or suffering that could compare to the myth that was perfection, nothing that could destroy someone more than the strive for something unattainable. No matter how content you believed your life to be, there would always be something lurking in the corners of your mind. A yearning, a need to be something above all else, to break the standard.

Yes, Man loved to blame the Universe for their inability to become something that had never existed. And so, through pity or mercy, the Universe decided to grant them the chance at what they considered to be perfect.

While the need to Be something more remained, the need to Find something took a place alongside it.

And in all the chaos that made up the fabric of the Universe,

She had created The Exception.

~

Despite his flirtatious personality, Lance McClain was a hopeless romantic at heart, and had spent his days dreaming about meeting his soulmate. It had been every birthday wish since he was eight: every four leafed clover, every eyelash, every dandelion, every Christmas cracker– if you could wish on it, Lance had asked the Universe to pretty please send a cute someone his way. Most of his friends would say he had watched too much Disney as a kid and was setting himself up for disappointment, but really Lance had just seen how happy his parents made each other and couldn’t wait to have that someday, to be someone’s that someday.
Really, it was all he wanted.

Well, until the instructors from the Galaxy Garrison took his class on a recruit flight in junior high. Lance never really thought of himself as a good fit for the forces (and really couldn’t get behind the orange uniforms) but something about being in the cockpit changed him.
From then, Lance had only ever wanted two things: to get accepted into the Galaxy Garrison, and to skip hand in hand with his soulmate into the sunset.
That was only two things, he could manage.

Now, Lance wasn’t stupid, he knew that their acceptances were very limited and with his current lifestyle he didn’t have a very high chance of making it in, so finding his soulmate took a backseat on Lance’s list of priorities– he had his whole life to track them down, and if when he found them he could say that he was an intergalactic fighter pilot it would be a hell of a first impression.

It had been many months of studying, all nighters, and a near caffeine overdose later that Lance had finally received his long awaited “congrats, you made it” letter from the garrison, but the looks of pride on his family's faces made it well worth it. It was official: if he played his cards right, Lance was one day maybe going to space.

It wasn’t until his parents asked if he wanted anyone over to celebrate that Lance took a moment to stop and take a look at his social life. Or rather, what remained of it. Lance wasn’t one to flake, but over the past few months he had been so stressed about the entrance exams that he’d cancelled a few more times than he would have liked on his friends– and when he did hang out with them, he felt like the garrison was the Regina George to his Cady Heron – he spent about 80 percent of his time talking about exams, and the other percent of the time, he was praying for someone else to bring them up so he could talk about them more. He’d been so focused on getting in that he hadn’t quite realised he hadn’t had an invite in months.
Well, years from now, it wouldn’t matter anyway. He would be a successful space ranger happily married to his super hot soulmate and it wouldn’t matter that he didn’t have anyone to invite to his 18th.
Even though he was feeling a little lonely, Lance couldn’t help but feel like things were a little perfect.

Unfortunately, “perfect” doesn’t exist. And if it did, it avoided Lance.
Lance was pretty well liked amongst his peers (although not by all his instructors) and had made new friends fairly quickly in all his classes, but particularly with his unit– Pidge and Hunk, but especially Hunk. Lance and Hunk got along like a house on fire– or, like the fire on the chemistry lab curtain when Lance made Hunk laugh whilst handling the bunsen burner. The detention had been worth it.
It wasn’t until Pidge had wrongly assumed the two were soulmates that Lance really stopped and noticed what had slowly started throughout the trimester: more and more of his classmates were finding each other, whilst Lance stayed alone. That's not to say everyone – Hunk and Pidge still Hadn’t – but enough that Lance started to feel the tiniest bit of anxiety that maybe he wouldn’t.

While Lance was well liked, he didn’t make many close friends outside his unit. The garrison wasn’t a largely social crowd most of the friends he did make either didn’t make it through the first trimester, or had mistaken his banter for flirting and thought he was interested. It wasn’t uncommon for people to date outside of their soulmates– not everyone was willing to wait forever, and some people rejected the whole notion all together– Lance hoped his soulmate wasn't one of them. He had briefly considered a date once: Tammy Nelson in the first grade asked to marry him during recess. Lance had agreed, then gotten so upset at the idea of betraying his soulmate that he cried so hard he threw up and had to get his mum to pick him up. He wasn’t sure his parents would be willing to pick him up if he threw up this time round, so yeah, Lance wasn’t too interested in dating anyone but his soulmate.

It wasn’t until his encounter with the blue lion that his resolve truly began to waiver. He wasn’t much of a conspiracy theorist, but he had always believed in extraterrestrial life, especially since joining the space program: in the great expanse of space, Earth really couldn’t be the only one with intelligent life. Suddenly the one in seven billion chance of finding his soulmate that had seemed so impossible months ago was so much bigger than he could even comprehend. And that's besides the fact that he’s now got a starring role in an intergalactic war– the chances of him making it back to Earth were getting smaller with every advance the Galra led, searching for his soulmate amongst the millions of planets under the protection of Voltron? Forget it.

Staring out the window of Blue at the dark expanse of the universe, Lance couldn’t help but feel so alone even though he could hear his team in his coms. Whenever he was feeling alone back at the garrison, Lance would think about the day he would introduce his soulmate to his family, and it was enough to get him through it.

Nowadays, he doesn’t know if the thought will make him laugh or cry.

Chapter Text

Lance had tried to pay attention in the debrief. Really, he did.

Despite what his team may seem to think, Lance actually tried really hard to pay attention in most of their briefings– his constant fiddling around with every surface around him was part of that, much to the dismay of nearly all his teachers back at the garrison. Don’t get him wrong, he also loved to joke around (hence the week of detentions after the chemistry curtain incident) but, time and place.

This time however, he was finding it particularly hard to keep his mind on track once Allura had broke the news of Zarkon’s apparent succession.

The war was meant to be over– that was the deal. They kill Zarkon, the Galran empire collapses, peace is restored to the universe and they all go home heroes. Lance wouldn’t mind a quick celebratory detour through their allied planets, sure, but overall he was meant to be on his way home. He wasn’t meant to still be here. None of them were.
So sue him if it was a little harder to concentrate knowing that he had no idea when he was going home.

“-- Lance, are you listening?”
No. “Yes.”

Shiro was staring at him expectedly from next to the briefing board, eyebrows drawn together and looking a little desperate in a very ‘lord, give me strength’ kinda way– it was the same face Iverson had made the day he realised Lance had been moved up to fighter class. Shiro should probably be warned about premature wrinkles.
The black paladin's eyebrows raised and his mouth fell open.
Had he said that out loud?

“Yeah, you did.” Keith ever so helpfully chimed in. He glared at Lance through his overgrown hair. No matter how much Keith denied it, it really was starting to look like a mullet. Lance gritted his teeth.
Before he could say anything in response, Shiro was already waving his hand between them.

“Whatever, doesn’t matter, just please pay attention.” Shiro raised his hand to his face and slowly rubbed his temples. If he was the father of the team, Lance and Keith were his two bickering twins– it didn’t matter what the topic was, Keith always had a snarky comment to make, Lance always rose to the bait, and Shiro always intervened– usually to tell Lance to shut it. Whatever.

Lance looked down the length of the table, observing the rest of his team. Allura and Coran stood at the face of the table, filing through lists of potential allies for them to discuss after the debrief (which Lance knew because he had been listening). Keith had returned to scowling at the briefing board, giving Lance the filthiest stink eye he’d seen in a while. So dramatic.
Hunk looked completely defeated, head propped up on his arm. Lance made a mental note to check on him after the meeting. Pidge, on the other hand, barely was barely showing any sign of stress at the news of their extended stay on the budget Millennium Falcon, instead typing away on their tablet. He should probably scan their notes in case he missed anything when he zoned out. Lance leaned forward to get a closer look and–

Oh my God.

There was no way he was the one getting in trouble for not paying attention while Pidge was literally playing Wordle.

Lance shot up so fast his knees hit the table. Nuh Uh. No way.

“I’ll have you know I have been paying attention– so much so that if I pay anymore, I’ll need to take out a loan,” he protests, raising one hand to his hip and using the other to wave at an increasingly distressed looking Shiro. Seriously, the guy needed to start thinking of his skin more. “The attack on the Galra was successful, Zarkon kicked the bucket, we restore peace and order to the universe, – but wait, there's more! Turns out, Zarkon has some secret son – L'Oréal or something –”

“Lotor.” Oh my god does Keith ever shut the fuck up.

“Whatever. Point is, he’s taking over the empire and rallying the Galran forces against us, so we didn’t actually restore peace and order to the universe– we kind of just created an intergalactic Christmas truce,” the blue paladin paused, a bit out of breath. His team stared at him blankly. Coran raised an eyebrow.

Maybe he should clarify.

“Y’know, like in World War One when they stopped fighting over Christmas– only instead of playing football with the Galra, we’re trying to form alliances to defeat them” Lance lowered his volume back to normal, ears going a slight red. He was getting a little heated.

“You finished buddy?” Hunk asked softly, a touch of concern in his voice after Lance's outburst.

Not just yet.

“Also, Pidge is playing Wordle.” Lance sat back down, arms crossed in an indignant huff.

Now he’s finished.

“Snitch.” Pidge glared at him from the next seat down, but quickly put her tablet away as she caught Shiro’s disapproving gaze. Shiro cleared his throat, the paladin's attention snapping back to him. Right, debrief still going.
“Thank you for the recap, Lance. Sorry for questioning if you were listening.” Lance huffed, turning away from Shiro.
The black paladin signed. Keith wasn’t the only one around here dramatic enough to rival Broadway. “Moving on, from here we need to regroup and form alliances if we want to take on the rest of the empire. We have a meeting on a nearby planet in a few quintents to discuss a potential alliance,” Shrio shifted, checking his notes to see if he missed anything. “I’ll hand it over to Allura to discuss our potential allies.”

The princess took Shiro’s face in front of the briefing board, mouth pursed in confusion. “Before we get to that, I have a question.” Allura spoke slowly, making eye contact with Lance as she did so.

“What’s Wordle?”

Pidge choked. Lance sighed.

This was going to be a long meeting.