Chapter Text
“Now listen up everyone,” Shiro’s voice carries that distinct dad tone he uses when he wants everyone to pay attention, and man does everyone do just that. Keith and Lance even stop arguing. What a miracle. “Our mission today is to meet up with an informant at a nearby outpost.” He nods to Allura, who takes over and fills everyone in on the fine details.
“This outpost is a meeting place for smugglers, traders, rebels, etcetera. You all must be extra careful during this mission.” Allura says.
“Babe, I’m always careful. It’s my middle name.” Lance chimes in. He nudges Keith. “Isn’t it.”
Keith’s brows rise up. “I thought it was Charles or something.” He replies innocently.
Lance groans. “Ugh, it’s not Charles, eww. Besides you’re missing the point.”
“Which would be?”
“Ay dios mio! Do I need to sit you down and teach you about how to be a good wingman? I so will.”
“Why would I want to be your wingman?”
“Uh, because I’m awesome. Duh!”
Shiro heaves a sigh. “Can we get back to the mission you two?” Lance and Keith are still staring each other down, daring the other to cave in. Shiro decides to carry on while those two do their own thing. “Since the place is filled with potential Galra spies, we won’t be taking our lions.” Shiro can literally sense Lance’s mouth about to open, and he fixes the younger teen with a look. “No.”
“But I didn’t say anything.”
“The answer is still no.”
“Aww come on! The blue lion will miss me.” Lance tries. Shiro isn’t having any of it, and Lance crosses his arms in defeat.
“Alright team, we leave in an hour.”
Lance stumbles into the hanger an hour later wearing what Shiro calls ‘stealth gear’ when really it’s just a pair of jeans and a hoodie he slapped on. They are supposed to be undercover, and that meant no paladin uniforms and nothing that’ll make them stand out. Everyone has the same theme going as far as clothes go: some type of jacket and dark pants. Hunk even put on some sweet shades.
Lance thinks they look like some weird ass boyband from the 90’s, and he points this out immediately. The team’s reaction is as expected, and Pidge fixes him with a glare because excuse you Lance if anyone’s Justin Timberlake here, it’s Pidge. Lance can be his namesake in N’Sync.
“Everyone ready to head out?” Shiro cuts in. The team lets out an assortment of yeahs and sures and Shiro has them all cram into a pod. There are a total of three seats which are claimed by Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge. Lance considers fighting Pidge for their seat, but when Pidge holds up their Bayard, Lance slinks to the back with Keith. He did not want a repeat of that one time he underestimated Pidge.
“Yo Keith, move over. You’re hogging all the sitting room.” Lance’s shoulder pushes against Keith’s, who shoves him back.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m backed against a wall. You move over, idiot.” An all-out shoving match ensues and neither teen is backing down.
“Mullet head, that’s my pancreas you’re kneeing!” Lance hisses out. Keith rolls his eyes.
“Well if you don’t let go of my hair, I’m going to start kneeing you somewhere else.” Keith threatens.
Lance’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“If you two don’t stop fighting right now I will turn this ship around!” Shiro looks back at the two, his dark eyes shooting daggers at the bickering duo. Lance’s hand goes limp, and Keith shifts off of Lance. They’re both silent. “Thank you!” Shiro goes back to piloting and neither teen looks at the other.
They’ve been flying for what feels like hours, when really it was only thirty minutes, but Pidge suddenly pipes up. “Uh Shiro, is that an asteroid belt coming up?”
Hunk answers for Shiro. “Yeah it totally is!” Shiro makes a hard turn and the ship careens to the right. All the occupants in the vessel scream, especially Lance, as Shiro narrowly dodges another asteroid. Shiro warns everyone to hold on and shit if Lance and Keith aren’t clutching each other tightly at that moment.
“We’re gonna die!”
“Shut up, Lance!”
“We’re going to fucking die! I’m too young to die.” Lance is full on hugging Keith now, his face nuzzled up against his neck. Keith tries his best to ignore it.
“We won’t die. Shiro’s a pretty good pilot in case you haven’t noticed.” Keith says, attempting to soothe his friend. His friend who’s hugging him like his life depends on it. His friend who’s breathing right against his neck and shit Keith has goosebumps. Yeah his buddy, pal, bro, dude. Friend? Fuck.
“Thank you, Keith!” Shiro says, exasperated.
Shiro finally gets them out of the surprise asteroid belt, and it’s not too long later that they’re landing at the port. Lance is still clinging to Keith like a Koala on a tree.
“Uh, Lance. Can you let go now?” Keith starts poking Lance because he really needs Lance to get off him now. His legs are falling asleep, and Keith swears he’s gone lightheaded.
Lance peeks up at him and quickly untangles himself from Keith. “Yeah yeah! No problemo, buddy.” Lance acts like he’s dusting off his shoulders. Pidge happens to look back at the two and shakes their head.
“Are you two coming, or not?” Keith pulls himself up and follows Pidge out to meet up with the others. Lance gets out too after a second or two of staring at Keith.
Shiro gestures for them to gather around so he can go over the plan, and Keith squeezes himself between Shiro and Pidge. “Once we’re in, we’ll split up—”
“Doesn’t that mean something will go wrong? I think that means something is going to go wrong.” Lance babbles nervously.
“Nothing will go wrong. If something does happen, just contact us on the comm.” Shiro points to his ear and Lance mimics him, only he actually presses the button.
“Like this?!” He squeaks. The other paladins clutch their ears.
“Go with him, Keith.” Shiro instructs.
Keith and Lance share a brief glance, which may have lasted longer than two ticks, before looking away. “Well, now Keith can be your wingman, Lance.” Hunk chuckles at the look on Lance’s face.
“Woo.” Lance mock cheers.
They spread out as they approach a bar that’s tucked away near a back alley. It’s run down, maybe 10,000-years-old run down by the looks of it. Lance’s hand barely brushes against the door when it collapses entirely, dust and debris flying up around him. The sound draws the attention of all the nearby occupants, and Keith can see Shiro’s hand against his face. Whoops.
Keith grabs the back of Lance’s jacket and drags him over to the end of the bar. “Smooth move.”
“Oh shut up.”
The bartender, a tall, neon blue alien with six arms, looks at them expectantly. Lance and Keith trade various expressions and shrugs before coming to the conclusion: “Water.” That answer apparently annoys the bartender, but they slide two glasses over to the duo.
“Thanks!” They both quietly, well as quietly as Lance can manage, scope out the other customers at the bar. Nothing looks too off to Lance, but Keith has his gaze set on someone walking over to Shiro.
“That has to be the informant.” He whispers lowly to Lance.
“So does that mean we’re getting out of here soon?” Lance asks hopefully. He’s bouncing slightly in his seat.
“Yes, it d—” Keith’s vision tilts and it’s all he can do to grab onto the counter. No matter how many times he blinks, he can’t stop the way everything around him gets so fuzzy. What?
“Keith?” Lance is standing and has a hand on his shoulder. “You okay? Hey.” Keith knows something is very, very wrong when he starts seeing three Lances in front of him. As if one wasn’t enough.
“The drink…spiked.” Is all he can say. His stomach’s churning and his blood is boiling and holy shit what was slipped into his drink? And when?
“Hey come on, I’ll get you out of here.” Lance drapes one of Keith’s arms over his shoulders but stops when he feels something distinctly cold and metal press against his lower back.
Keith feels Lance stiffen against him, but turning his head now would make him throw up for sure. “You both aren’t going anywhere.”
“Listen here, cabrón, if you did this to my friend you’re in for a world of hurt.” Lance growls and the person behind him chuckles before removing the gun. For a brief moment, Lance thinks that they’re both in the clear, that his threat actually worked, but then the butt of the gun slams into his temple and it’s lights out for poor Lance. His body goes limp, and Keith gasps before hitting the floor.
“Take them to hanger B-42.” That’s all Keith hears before he blacks out.