Chapter Text
Lance glowers at Keith, the newest member of Class 8A at Voltron Academy. Every single time Lance so much as glances at his intense dark eyes that seem almost violet, black hair that’s cut into a mullet style (who even has a mullet these days?), and slender hands that are always covered with fingerless gloves, he’s filled with an indescribable emotion that he ultimately decides is irritation.
“He makes me so angry every time I look at him. Doesn’t he make you angry?”
Hunk stares at his best friend, eyebrow quirked with both amusement and a little bit of confusion.
“Why would Keith make me angry? He just moved here!”
“Everytime I see him, I’m just completely on edge. He’s just so—ugh—he’s so annoying! All the girls are constantly falling over him. It makes me so mad.”
“Lance—”
“He looks so much better than everyone else in the school uniform and he has the nerve to act like he doesn't know it.”
“Maybe he doesn't know it?”
“That's impossible. He has to know how attractive he is. And I saw him deadlifting 350 at the gym, like how is that even possible? He looks so lean and thin! He isn't even built like a weightlifter!”
“You seem really fixated on him,” comments Pidge as she walks into the classroom and sits at her desk. “Kind of like—”
“Like he's my rival? Of course he is! He’s stealing all the attention from the ladies!”
Pidge snorts. “Sure, Lance.”
Lance stares angrily at the back of Keith’s head for the entirety of their chemistry class. He is so fixated on his irritatingly attractive classmate, in fact, that he does not notice when the teacher calls on him to answer a question, and he gets three days of detention for being inattentive in class.
Stupid mullet head.
After school, Lance sits in detention, mulling over everything that’s gone wrong over the past two weeks, ever since Keith walked into the classroom and destroyed his ability to focus. As he ponders over the situation, he realizes that the thing that annoys him the most is the fact that he can’t identify exactly what it is about Keith that irritates him so much.
It’s one thing and it’s everything, and as Lance grapples with this reality, of being entirely consumed by the existence of another person and trying to grasp onto something concrete that can explain why he’s feeling this way, one little detail suddenly pops into his mind and throbs like an open wound—the love letters.
In an age of texting and social media, letter exchanging is a student tradition that has persevered at Voltron Academy, buoyed by a mixture of sentimentality and student pride. It is one of many traditions at the boarding school, but easily the most popular one.
Once, there were many types of letters that were exchanged; but now, only two truly remain: love letters, and letters of challenge, the latter of which has almost died out, except during Sports Day, when students get overly competitive and are wont to try and psyche out their opponents on other teams.
Lance wants nothing more than to receive a love letter from a pretty girl. Unfortunately, he has yet to receive a single one.
Keith, on the other hand, had been receiving them nonstop since his first day, from almost every single girl in not only their class, but in several of the other classes as well.
It is this, ultimately, that Lance decides to fixate on, rather than the fact that his cheeks flush dark red every time Keith catches him staring at the back of his head. He has always been aware, on some level, that he is as attracted to boys as much as girls, but he’s never really thought too closely about it—and he is far from having the self awareness to recognize why exactly Keith affects him so much.
Unfortunately for Lance, Hunk and Pidge recognize his feelings for exactly what they are—a big ol’ crush—and they are determined to goad him on until he at least gains a modicum of realization that what he feels for Keith is attraction, not dislike.
The next morning at their lockers, Lance once again finds himself consumed by thoughts of a certain someone.
“Ugh, why can't I get him out of my head?”
“Who?” asks Hunk, who knows perfectly well of course—he just wants to hear Lance say it out loud.
“Keith, duh.”
“Dude, I think Pidge is right. You seem way too fixated on the poor guy. He hasn't even done anything to you.”
“Not directly, maybe, but indirectly he’s ruined everything!”
“Maybe you should write your feelings down on paper,” suggests Pidge. “I think you need to sort through a lot of emotions.”
Lance stares at her, eyes wide, before exclaiming, “Pidge, you're a genius! I'm going to write Keith a letter of challenge.”
“That's not what I—” Pidge starts, before her gaze wanders to Keith, who is standing at his locker a few steps down, staring with impatience at the growing pile of love letters that pad his locker daily. If Lance were to add a letter of challenge into the pile, Keith would probably assume it's just another love letter.
Keith would assume it's a love letter.
A mischievous sparkle enters her eyes as she turns back to Lance with a grin.
“Yes, Lance. That's exactly what you should do.”
“Why do girls keep sending me love letters? They’re filling up my locker!” Keith asks Shiro after school, frustrated.
“They admire you, Keith.”
As the youngest teacher in the school, Shiro is well-liked and respected by the entire student body—partly because of his level head and calm personality, partly because of his attractiveness (though it is an open secret that he and the hot but mildly scary guidance counselor Ms. Allura (aka “Princess” Allura) are dating, despite the fact that they try to keep things under wraps).
Unfortunately, regardless of his best efforts, Shiro has been unable to convince the students to call him “Mr. Shirogane” instead of his first name—all thanks to a certain Katie “Pidge” Holt, who has been his neighbor and friend for years, due to his friendship with her older brother Matt. The minute the other students heard her address him as Shiro, they dropped all the formalities they had used for him and started calling him Shiro as well.
He knows he shouldn’t encourage it, but in truth, Shiro doesn’t mind. He might be turning thirty in five years, but he still feels like a high school student sometimes.
Because of the easy rapport Shiro has with the student body, Headmaster Coran has assigned him to be a mentor to the scholarship students, who usually come from less privileged backgrounds than the others.
Keith, the newest scholarship student, seems to be in particular need of guidance.
Headmaster Coran has given Shiro a bit of download as to Keith’s background; he is a brilliant student and a talented fencer, raised by a series of foster families, the most recent of whom had actually been relieved when he had been accepted to the Garrison Institute. He has transferred to Voltron Academy for undisclosed reasons, though his history of having an extremely hot temper and acting upon it might have something to do with it, especially considering that very temper has gotten him banned from fencing competitions twice.
Coran has tasked Shiro with the duty of bonding with Keith and making sure he doesn’t act upon anger in a way that will cause harm to either him or the school.
“I think you can get through to him, Mr. Shirogane,” Headmaster Coran had said the day that Shiro was assigned to be his mentor. “You have a way with words. I know you may be surprised that we accepted a student with such a...colorful history, we might say—but despite his rather reckless past, we saw something special in his application portfolio. Something that I believe the Garrison Institute missed when they decided he no longer belonged there.”
Shiro had been shocked. “You mean he didn’t transfer?”
“No. He was expelled.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s no need to overthink it, my boy. It has nothing to do with his ability to succeed here. Just make sure Keith feels comfortable here and that he understands that he belongs. It doesn’t matter how the Garrison Institute feels about him—he has a permanent place at Voltron Academy as long as he needs it.”
Shiro nodded. “Absolutely.”
Coran smiled with relief. “Excellent. I have a feeling that young man can go far, if he has the proper guidance.”
“Don’t worry, Headmaster Coran. I think I’m up to the task,” said Shiro.
“Oh yes, I believe you most certainly are!”
Despite his confident tone, Shiro had been worried after the reports of Keith’s first few days. He had heard from the teachers and dormitory wardens that despite his brilliance, Keith was hard to talk to, and he scowled more often than he smiled—for all his immediate popularity, he was rather antisocial, seeming utterly uninterested in the group activities in the student dorms or making friends with the other students and preferring to spend time alone, either at the gym or in the library.
And yet the minute that Shiro met Keith, he realized his worries were all unfounded. Keith wasn’t antisocial; he was awkward, he was unaccustomed to having people care about him for anything that didn’t have to do with his talents or abilities. He had nothing in common with most of the other students, having no family stories to share and no spare allowance to spend on activities in town.
Keith was a scholarship student in every sense of the word, and it was clear that he knew it. It was no wonder he was so solitary.
Keith seemed to sense that Shiro understood him, and to the young teacher’s surprise, he had opened up almost immediately.
Ever since then, Keith has come to Shiro whenever he has any problems, feeling free to express his worries and concerns in a way Shiro is pretty sure he does not feel comfortable sharing with anyone else.
Like what he’s doing now, his shoulders hunched inward, clearly not pleased at Shiro’s conclusion about the girls who won’t stop filling his locker with unwanted love letters.
“Yeah, maybe they admire me, but—you know—I don’t like girls that way.”
“Well, not all of them know that.”
“I literally rejected one of them in the middle of the courtyard on my first day and told her I was gay. There was a huge crowd, too. Everyone heard. How can they not all know? And even if they didn’t know, it's rude to assume. What if I had a boyfriend?”
“I would think that he would be proud that his partner is so well-liked.”
“I don’t know, it just feels so...intrusive. I don’t know what to do. And anyway, there’s someone I— ”
Keith stops himself before he reveals too much, but Shiro smiles gently and nods with understanding. “Is it someone in your class?”
Keith sighs. “Yes. But I don’t even know if he likes guys. It’s kind of hard to tell. I mean, he’s in my face all the time. I’ve noticed that he’s just a loud person in general though, so it might not mean anything. Actually, it’s kind of annoying how loud he is, come to think of it. And I don’t want to assume anything, but— I’ve noticed him staring at me a few times. But who knows? Maybe he just stares at everyone and I’m overthinking this.”
Shiro pats Keith’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll figure this out, Keith. I believe in you.”
Allura’s eyes widen as she stares at Shiro across the dinner table that night.
“Does Keith actually talk to you?”
“Yes, of course. What, doesn’t he talk to you when he comes in for counselling sessions?”
“Not once. The most I’ve been able to get out of him at one time is maybe five words. He is extremely monosyllabic. I had thought he was simply a boy of few words. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Well, Allura, you can be a little…” Shiro paused, searching for the right word. “Resonant.”
Allura snorted. “I know what you meant to say was intimidating and you’re damn right I am. These high schoolers will never be prepared to face the challenges and struggles of dealing with difficult people in university or the real world unless they come across someone like me.”
“You and I both know that Keith understands what it’s like to struggle,” says Shiro patiently, and Allura’s expression softens as she sighs.
“Did he share the name of the boy he has a crush on? Maybe I can talk to him.”
Shiro laughs. “There you go again, trying to secretly help everyone even though you act so tough.”
“I just want the environment to be a positive one!” protests Allura, trying to sound righteous and indignant.
Shiro raises an eyebrow. “And you'll do that by setting up the students?”
Allura shrugs. “Perhaps, if that's what it will take.”
“Unfortunately, he didn't share any details. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him yourself.”
“What? No! Where's the fun in that?”
“Sorry, Princess. You've gotta do your own dirty work.”
“Why am I even dating you?” Allura responds with a pout. “Wait, don't answer that.”
“Whoaaa! Where did you learn to write like that?” Hunk asks Lance after dinner while they’re hanging out in the common area of their dorm, leaning over his friend’s shoulders to peer at the uncharacteristically ornate handwriting he is using for his “letter of challenge” to Keith.
“What, calligraphy? My mom showed me. She has a side business making wedding cards and stuff and needed an assistant, so she taught me when I was like nine. It comes in handy for serious situations like this.”
“That’s seriously impressive,” replies Hunk, whistling in awe. “I had no idea you even knew how to write like that.”
Lance puffs up with pride. “I can teach you if you want. You never know if it’ll come in handy. It’s a pretty great skill.”
“Yeah, Lance, I’m sure your fancy writing is going to really intimidate Keith,” chimes in Pidge as she waltzes into the room, her voice as empty as a flat tire.
“Don’t underestimate the power of a well written letter, Pidge,” replies Lance calmly.
Hunk frowns. “Actually, what are you even writing? What exactly are you mad at him about again?”
“I’m going to tell him what all my problems with him are! His stupid hair, the fact that so many girls are all over him, how he acts so distracting in gym class…”
Pidge raises an eyebrow. “How is he distracting in gym class?”
“How can any of you pay attention to anything when he’s showing off with that fancy rapier in the corner? I can’t stop staring at it and his stupid arm muscles and I keep losing focus.”
“So Keith’s sword distracts you?” she replies, a smug grin spreading across her face.
“Come on, Pidge,” groans Hunk.
But Lance has stopped listening and doesn’t even notice the joke, intent on finishing his letter.
Early in the morning the next day, Lance puts the letter in Keith’s locker and continues to circle by periodically every hour to see if he has come by yet. Eventually, however, he has to go to swim practice, and he is not there when Keith finally comes by his locker.
It’s been a long and tiring day for Keith, so when he opens up his locker to find a new flood of love letters, he is so frustrated that he doesn’t even take the time to look through them. He grabs them all and dumps them into the garbage bin at the end of the hallway, not even noticing the ornately designed red envelope with pretty calligraphy among the other letters among the pile.
So it is not surprising that Keith is completely taken back when Lance comes up and confronts him in the middle of gym class while he’s minding his own business, warming up before fencing practice.
“Hey! Didn’t you see the letter I gave you?!”
Keith stares at Lance, mind racing at the idea of receiving a love letter from him. Maybe he was right after all—maybe those furtive stares and his aggressive behavior every time they interact has simply been a facade for his true feelings, since he doesn’t know how to deal with them. Keith can relate to that.
A love letter from Lance. It seems too good to be true, and yet here he is, standing in front of him with a bright red face and wanting to know if he’s read it—and he already threw it away with the others. He didn’t even see it.
He looks up to meet Lance’s gaze, bright and fierce and clearly impatient.
“Y-you too?” he stammers, a pink flush spreading across the bridge of his nose, his heart beginning to beat faster and faster.
“I—I accept!” he says, not knowing what else to say. Keith is used to rejecting these sort of confessions, not accepting them.
“Alright!” shouts Lance, curling his hand into a fist and pumping it into the air. “Let’s go!”
Keith blinks, slightly confused. “What?”
“You and me. Out in the courtyard. Let’s go.”
Keith startles, eyes widening. He’s never been one for PDA—not that he has that much experience—but then again, Lance is a rather showy person, so maybe that’s why he wants to go out there. Make it public, show all the students that they’re together.
It’s bold, but Keith is surprised to find that he doesn’t really mind.
“Oh—um, okay, if that’s where you’d rather…that’s fine.”
Distracted by the promise of romance, he misses the angry, triumphant flash in Lance’s eyes as he follows him out the door.
Even as they’re walking to the courtyard, part of Lance is wondering if this is a bad idea. Keith isn’t reacting to his letter of challenge quite like he expected, and for some reason, it almost seems like he’s blushing.
Still, Lance gets ready for the fight, and he looks right at Keith as he says “Okay, let’s go on three.”
In retrospect, he should have known better when Keith blinked at him in surprise at this, but Lance has always been a bit slow to pick up on signals and doesn’t notice a thing, so fixated is he on fighting his “rival”.
On three, Keith closes his eyes.
On three, Lance goes in for the punch.
The world suddenly seems to move in slow motion as he hits the side of Keith’s face and his eyes fly open in shock and anger.
“What the hell?!” shouts Keith in a voice that is equally furious and hurt, and every ounce of anger that Lance has ever felt against the other boy immediately evaporates, replaced by a thick, uncomfortable feeling that’s somewhere between guilt and mortification.
“What did you think I was going to do?!” he shouts back as he drops his hands, not knowing how else to respond or how to de-escalate the situation.
“I thought—I thought you had sent me a love letter! What else was I supposed to think it was?!”
Lance’s head is spinning and he doesn’t know what to think or do or say.
“Why would I do that—why would you think that?! It was a letter of challenge!”
Keith’s eyes are dark and incensed as he presses his hand against his cheek, which is quickly turning redder and redder as it slightly swells. He storms away without a word, angry and hurt, and Lance stares after him, feeling oddly empty and unsatisfied and guilty.
Standing alone in the empty courtyard, it’s clear to even him that he has really, really, messed things up.
The school is in a tizzy and rumors are flying about Keith and Lance and confessions and punches. Nobody quite knows what the truth is, and even though everyone’s asking Pidge and Hunk what’s going on since they’re friends with Lance and saw him write his letter, even they don’t have any answers.
Headmaster Coran decides that this sort of disruption is unacceptable, and assigns Shiro and Allura to figure out what is going on with the two students, but to do it without asking any of the other students what is going on, because he doesn’t want the rumor mill to get even worse.
This, of course, makes the whole process twice as complicated, because the only thing clear to Shiro is that something has gone very wrong with his mentee. As he’s sitting in his classroom trying to think about conversation strategies—something tells him that Keith isn’t going to just open up to him about what happened this time—Pidge and Hunk come slinking into the room.
Pidge edges up to his desk. “Hey, um...Shiro?”
“What is it it?”
“Hunk and I kind of have something to confess.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The whole thing with Lance and Keith...well, it’s kind of our—”
Hunk coughs.
“My fault. See, Lance totally has a crush on Keith but he’s too oblivious to figure it out and he was babbling on and on about how Keith is his rival and how he had to do something and I just wanted him to stop talking because he was getting annoying and told him to write it down on paper. He thought he should write a letter of challenge and I knew that Keith would think it would be a love letter and I thought it would be funny and a way for them to get both of their feelings out in the open. But I didn’t realize how much of an idiot Lance was and now he’s gone and punched him in the face and everything’s totally screwed up.”
Shiro solemnly stares at her for a few moments, unblinking, before he sighs.
“So you’re saying that Lance actually does like Keith?”
“He doesn’t just like him, he’s like, head over heels,” cuts in Hunk. “He’s totally infatuated and he doesn’t even know it! And now Keith won’t either, because Lance screwed it up.”
“The point is, can you please help us?” adds Pidge. “Lance doesn’t have any self awareness or any brains, but we’re both tired of listening to him moan about Keith and we both think that he’ll stop if he at least goes on one date with him. We know that you talk to Keith a lot. Can you please try and convince him to give Lance a second chance? He’s a good guy, he just...doesn’t think everything through before he does it. And it kind of was our fault.”
“Whose fault?” mutters Hunk.
“Fine, fine, my fault,” replies Pidge, rolling her eyes. “So, will you? Do it for an old friend?”
Shiro sighs. “Just this time. But all I’m going to do is suggest that he give Lance a second chance. Whether he does or not is entirely his decision, okay?”
Pidge grins. “Thanks Shiro! You’re the coolest!!”
Shiro walks through the long dormitory hallway before he finally gets to Keith’s door, which is shut. Despite multiple attempts at knocking and calling his name, he doesn’t answer.
Still, Shiro doesn’t give up, and finally, after a solid fifteen minutes of knocking, Keith finally comes to the door, looking frustrated and disheveled.
“Who the fu—Oh. Shiro. It’s you. Um, come in.”
Shiro frowns. “Keith, how are you doing?”
“How do you think I’m doing?” mutters Keith, before he finally looks up to meet Shiro’s gaze. “I’m sorry—it’s not your fault. I just...this is hard. It’s bringing back a lot of bad memories that I’d really rather forget.”
“Do you want to talk about it? You know that whatever you share will remain confidential between you and me. I just want to make sure everything’s okay.”
Keith looks down, slowly unclenching his fists.
“Do you know why I was expelled from the Garrison Institute?”
Shiro shakes his head. “Coran hasn’t said anything, no.”
“I was asked to leave because I beat up the headmaster’s son.”
“Keith—”
"And before you ask why I would do something like that, it’s because I thought I was in love with him and I made the mistake of confessing to him because I thought he felt the same way. And he laughed at me in front of everyone. He made a fool out of me, and I couldn’t take it, and I just...lost control.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“And all this shit with Lance...I just...I can’t believe I thought this place would be different. I can’t believe I misunderstood everything again.”
Shiro places his hands on Keith’s shoulders.
“Keith, you didn’t misunderstand anything. Lance does feel the same way about you.”
“Shiro, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but that’s ridiculous. That asshole literally just punched me in the face. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know this is going to sound a little strange, but bear with me here. I talked to his friends Hunk and Pidge—they said that they knew he had a crush on you, but wasn’t aware of it, and they thought it would be funny if they convinced him to write a letter of challenge and send it to you. They didn’t think about the consequences, and they’re really sorry.”
Keith is incandescent with rage. “Great, so there are three assholes, not one. Perfect. I’m so glad I came here. This was the best fucking decision of my life.”
Shiro gulps and tries to backtrack. “No—Keith—what I’m asking you to do is to give Lance a second chance.”
“Why the fuck would I ever do that?”
Shiro sighs. He doesn’t have a good answer to that.
“I’m not saying you have to—I’m just asking you to consider it.”
“I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Allura taps her fingers on her desk as she waits for Lance to arrive for his guidance counseling session. Technically, students only meet with her once a month and he already met with her last week, but she’s made an excuse about setting up an extra appointment so that she can do her part in helping things settle down between Keith and Lance.
Shiro has already told her that Keith has (albeit begrudgingly) agreed to at least think about giving Lance a second chance, so now it’s up to Allura to talk to Lance about what he can do to make things better.
She can barely contain her anticipation as she waits for the lanky junior to show up. Meetings with Lance are usually both entertaining and irritating, as he appears to have decided that Allura is going to be his guinea pig for all of the terrible pick-up lines he gets from god knows where instead of talking about his classes and where he wants to go to college. But Allura has a feeling that today is going to be a little different.
Lance doesn’t show up until fifteen minutes after his appointment is supposed to start, and he is extremely distracted, barely paying attention to anything she’s saying.
“Earth to Lance! Are you listening to me? We need to discuss some complaints I’ve received from your teachers about how absent-minded you’ve been in class recently.”
“Hold up, Ms. Allura—can we please talk about something else? I literally don’t know who else to talk to about this who won’t judge the hell out of me.”
Allura’s eyes sparkle at the prospect of being a student confidante. She hasn’t even had to pull out her powers of persuasion—Lance is opening up to her all by himself! She’s made progress, she’s finally connecting with the students—
“Can I please transfer to Class 8C? There are some super hot babes in there and I’d like to get to know them better.”
Well then. Maybe not.
“Absolutely not, Lance,” she says with a snort. “You will stay in the class you’re in. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
And then Allura looks closer at his face, and she notices several things that she realizes that she missed upon her first glance. Lance’s entire face is tense and strained, his flirtatious smile is pasted on. His eyes look lost, and something is telling her that he’s just waiting for someone to ask him if he’s okay.
So she does, and it turns out that he is absolutely not, and that Lance’s guilt at hurting Keith’s face and feelings is eating him up inside because it turns out that what he thought is hate isn’t actually hate at all, and he just feels so very confused.
Allura listens to him ramble for several minutes before raising her hand to stop him in his tracks.
“Lance...have you ever considered the possibility that the reason you have such strong emotions about Keith is because you like him?”
Lance stares at her, eyes wide, as the emotions from this earth-shattering epiphany slowly spread through his body. He slams his palm against his forehead and moans into his arm.
“I—oh my gohhhddddd—I’m such an idiot. I am such a tool.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I have a crush on Keith.”
“Well—”
“I have feelings for fucking Keith and I thought I hated him.”
“I’m glad you’ve come to this realization, Lance!” Allura chirps brightly, preparing to share tips and advice on how to move forward, when Lance leaps up from his chair.
“Ms. Allura, I’ve gotta go.”
“Where are you going? We still have ten minutes left of our appointment!”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta fix this mess right now. I have to tell him how I really feel. I have to write him an actual love letter.”
“But Lance, wouldn’t it perhaps be better to tell him in person instead of writing him another letter—?”
Unfortunately, Lance doesn’t hear her, because he’s already gone.
Words are flying through Lance’s head as he rushes back to his room, trying to think of what he can possibly say to Keith that will convince him to give him another chance. He thinks of one opening and then another, ways to explain that he was in the wrong, but he wants to make things right.
He’s never written a love letter before, but he’s going to try to make this the best one he’s ever written.
Dear Keith,
I didn’t mean to punch you. My bad.
Dear Keith,
I just want to start off by saying I’m sorry.
Dear Keith,
Can we please start over?
Dear Keith,
When I look into your eyes, the world just...stops, and I don’t know why.
The next day, Lance goes to Keith’s locker and gently pushes his letter through the slot before walking away. He wants Keith to take the time to find it himself and read it on his own terms without breathing down the back of his neck.
But Lance is not a naturally patient person, and he’s nervous about what’s going to happen, so around lunch, his feet automatically lead him back to that hallway, where Keith is standing in front of his locker once more, staring at it with trepidation.
“Um, Hey, Keith,” he mumbles, raising his hand in an awkward wave.
“Hey.”
“Um...did you get my new letter?”
Keith audibly groans, and Lance bites back the retort that immediately rises to his mouth. He needs to be nice about this, or he won’t get anywhere.
“No, I didn’t. What was in the letter this time?”
Lance can practically see the words Not This Again floating between them in the air.
“Um...this time, it’s actually what you thought it was the first time.”
Keith raises an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, is that?”
Lance looks in every direction but Keith. “Um...you know...like a love confession?”
“I see,” murmurs Keith, looking intently at his burning face.
Lance can practically feel the sweat puddling around his feet as Keith stares at him and starts to slowly approach, moving closer and closer. Soon, there is almost no space between them, and Keith leans up, only a few inches from his lips.
He looks up, his eyes half-lidded and filled with desire...
And then he punches Lance in the stomach.
As Lance groans and doubles over in pain, Keith stands above him, grim and vengeful.
“That’s for last time,” he declares, his voice resonant and unrepentant.
“That’s fair,” whispers Lance, wincing. It hurts to speak. “I deserved that.”
What he doesn’t expect are the next words that come out of Keith’s mouth, as he leans down to meet Lance’s gaze.
"Try this again the proper way tomorrow and then we can talk."
He walks away then, not looking back once, and Lance stares at his quickly retreating back in awe. Keith is unlike anyone he’s ever met in his life.
And he has no idea what “the proper way” is to go about doing this.
As soon as Lance gets home, he tries to psyche himself up and think of different ways he can make it up to Keith. Unfortunately, he finds his mind is blank, and once again, the only thing he can think of is writing another letter to Keith that he will probably never send. So he sits down at his desk again and pulls the pen out once more.
Dear Keith,
I'm not really good with words, but I can't think of anything else right now that I can do to make things better between us. I really, really, like you, and honestly? I'm scared shitless.
The next day, Lance talks to Hunk and Pidge about what he should do, and they both tell him he should just suck it up and apologize to Keith, but he still finds that he is too nervous.
Dear Keith,
Have you ever had a boyfriend? I've always wondered what it's like, ever since I realized I like guys as much as I like girls. But I've never seriously thought about it until now. Nobody else has ever mattered until you.
The day after that, both Shiro and Allura come up to Lance at the same time after school, asking if he's made any progress. He looks away when he says no, not wanting to see the disappointed looks on their faces.
Dear Keith,
Ms. Allura and Shiro came up to me today and asked if I’d made any progress with you. I know they meant if I’d talked to you about what happened between us, so I didn't tell them that I’ve progressed from staring at the back of your head and being furious about your mullet to wondering what it would feel like between my fingers while we’re making out under the stars.
...do you like stargazing?
On the fifth day after the incident, Lance writes two more letters and is about to call it a day when he realizes he’s being a coward and he needs to meet Keith’s challenge. He's only making himself miserable, and it's not getting him anywhere.
So he goes into town and to the only grocery store in town, buys a bunch of roses that seem a little overpriced, comes back to the dorms and grabs his guitar (which has been gathering dust for about a month, ever since the last girl Lance sang to told him he was tone deaf, which hurt his feelings even though he knows he’s not) and gathers all the letters into a thick bundle and tosses them into his bag.
He’s heading to Keith’s dorm room, and he's going to make the biggest romantic gesture in the history of Voltron Academy.
Unfortunately, when he calls Hunk and Pidge and tells them about his plan, they both flat out refuse to join him as his backup serenade band.
“You're just going to make things worse if you make a big deal out of things,” says Pidge.
“You really should keep this between the two of you,” says Hunk.
Lance begrudgingly agrees, and ultimately ends up making the long trek that evening to the transfer student dorm all by himself, growing more and more nervous with every step.
When Lance finally walks through the doors of the transfer student dorm, he’s practically breathless from nerves, but he forces himself to walk down the hallway.
As he gets ready to knock on the door, it suddenly opens and and Keith is there, right there, clutching a toothbrush in his hand and wearing his tight black t-shirt and a pair of loose red shorts and Lance is so distracted that he almost forgets why he’s there.
He startles as Keith scowls at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I, um—I came here to serenade you. Since you wanted me to do this the right way. I wasn’t sure what you meant, so I, uh—I thought I’d try something that I thought was pretty romantic.”
Keith crosses his arms and frowns as Lance looks around for a place to put the rose bouquet before ultimately deciding to put them on the ground. He stands back up and quickly tunes the guitar before launching into an acoustic cover of the All 4 One classic I Swear.
Lance knows it’s a bit of a risk, choosing such an openly mushy song, but he’s decided to go big or go home, and so he pours his heart and soul into the words.
I swear by the moon and the stars in the skies
And I swear like the shadow that's by your side
I see the questions in your eyes
I know what's weighing on your mind
You can be sure I know my part
'Cause I'll stand beside you through the years
You'll only cry those happy tears
And though I make mistakes I'll never break your heart...
As he sings, Keith watches him silently, his openly hostile expression slowly transforming into one that’s mildly embarrassed, and then to one that’s almost fond, if a little exasperated.
After Lance strums the final chord and the notes echo across the quiet hallway, he sighs and looks down, hanging his head low.
“I feel like an asshole.”
“Good. You should. Because you are one,” responds Keith, eyes narrow. “Also, that was the cheesiest song I have ever heard in my entire life.”
Lance looks up and squawks in protest before looking down again, shamefaced. “Yeah. I deserve that. I probably should have chosen a different song.”
Keith sucks in air and chews his lip before looking up to the ceiling with a loud sigh. “Are you just going to keep standing in the hallway or are you coming inside?”
“What—”
“You didn't just plan to serenade me, bring me flowers, and then leave, did you?”
“Well, no—but—”
“Then come inside, you idiot.”
“That sounds dirty.”
“Can you stop being a dick for like thirty seconds?”
“Excuse you! I paid $70 for these roses. Aren't you going to thank me?”
Lance picks up the wilted bouquet and shoves it into Keith’s face, his expression manic and bold, though his eyes betray his true uncertainty.
“These roses aren't even worth $12. You got ripped off,” retorts Keith, pushing the flowers away and tossing them on his desk.
“Hey! Who's being the dick now? Excuse me for trying to be thoughtful!” Lance shouts.
Keith rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of his bed, grabbing the book that was sitting on top of the pillow and pretending to start reading.
“I, uh, actually have something else for you too,” says Lance, suddenly quiet.
Keith looks up to see a thick bundle of paper mere millimeters from his face. “What is it?”
“Um, Letters. Love letters. Five of them. For every day that's passed since I punched you when you thought I was going to kiss you.”
“Lance—”
“Please just read them, give me a chance, I know I fucked up but—”
“Lance.”
“I've been such an asshole—”
“LANCE!”
Lance stops babbling, shocked into silence.
“What? Did I fuck up again? Shit, shit, shiiiiit—”
Keith suddenly stands up and moves to face him.
“Lance. Is it always 0 to 100 with you?”
“Wha-what? What do you mean?” Lance stammers.
“All I wanted was a genuine apology. And I wanted to know if you were actually, you know...interested…”
At this, Keith looks away, flushing for the first time himself.
“I am,” says Lance fervently. “Aren't you?”
“I just—don't understand why all of this was necessary.”
“What do you mean? Girls usually love this stuff—”
“Yeah. I'm not a girl.”
“That. That is true. Wow. I'm an idiot.”
Keith snorts. “For what it's worth, I appreciate the gesture.”
Lance lights up but immediately dampens his enthusiasm as he realizes he can't quite interpret the other boy’s intent, and as he knits his brows together in confusion, Keith suddenly bursts into a bright peal of laughter that's unlike anything Lance has ever heard before.
“You're really something, you know that?” says Keith, wiping the tears from his eyes that are flowing freely from laughing so hard.
“I’m sorry, I—so does that mean you actually liked the flowers—and the letters?”
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of into it. You’re an idiot, but you’re cute. Actually, I noticed you on my first day, when you got in my face like the asshole you are,” says Keith, smiling fondly.
Lance’s eyes widen. “So...so that’s a yes, right?”
Keith sighs and grasps Lance’s bony wrists, pulling him down to to join him on edge of the mattress, which groans loudly as Lance’s weight leans into it. Silently, he clutches his shirt and pulls him closer, staring at Lance intently and feeling the warmth of his shallow breathing on his skin, slowly closing his eyes and quickly pressing his lips against Lance’s before pulling back with a small smirk.
“Yes, it is.”
And then Lance smiles, and it's a smile so soft and bright and hopeful that it makes Keith’s heart stagger a little bit, and he catches his breath as he watches a dark pink flush spread across Lance’s cheeks.
Lance raises his right hand to gently cup Keith’s cheek, the calloused edges of his fingers which usually meet guitar strings now lightly exploring the contours of his face. Keith closes his eyes, letting himself fall like he’s never fallen before, headfirst and eager as Lance leans in and softly kisses him again and again, ardent but nervous—still too shy to release himself to the fervent desire that Keith knows is swelling within him like a high tide.
Keith’s eyes suddenly flash keenly and he presses into Lance, pushing him backwards onto the bed. He hovers above him on all fours, feeling Lance’s hands growing sweaty and warm as he presses them into the pillow and meets his gaze, not wavering once. The mattress trembles as Lance shivers with anticipation.
“I’ve never—this is my first time—” he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.
Keith leans back and searches his face for any sign of hesitation.
“Is this okay? Are you okay?”
Lance nods. “Yes—yes.”
“Okay,” breathes Keith, caressing Lance’s cheeks and swimming in the piercing blue of his wide eyes before closing his eyes and diving in, pressing his mouth to Lance’s and darting his tongue past his chapped but tender lips.
Lance gasps sharply and pulls Keith closer, tangling his hands in his hair and releasing himself to the fierce and desperate hunger consuming every single inch of his body, pressing closer, deeper, harder. He’s never wanted anyone so much in his life, never understood what true rapture felt like until this moment, when his breath is mingling with Keith’s in soft, needy sighs.
Keith is pure fire and Lance is warm and wet and melting underneath him, quivering and shaking and keening and moaning as his hands slide up his back and Keith knows that he needs him like a fire needs oxygen to breathe.
“Closer,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes shining and utterly ruined as he trails kisses up Lance’s jawline. “I need you closer.”
Lance smiles and moves his lips to the edge of Keith’s ear, where he presses a soft kiss to his earlobe before whispering, “But I’m already here.”
And it’s true; all their limbs are intertwined, and Lance’s arms are hot and heavy and sweaty and enclosing him entirely. Keith has never felt so alive as he does now, lost in the inelegant motions and pure sensation of discovering each other as drops of sweat fall from his brow and onto Lance’s flushed red cheeks like happy tears.
For the first time in his life, as his legs are tangled in another boy’s who is kissing his neck and looking at him like he’s the moon and stars all in one, Keith actually feels like he matters, like there’s a reason he’s here on this earth.
And perhaps it’s the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the endorphins flooding his body, but it occurs to him that maybe, this is what love feels like.