Chapter Text
When Lance got his first tattoo it was seven months after the death of his sisters, and he was still on earth. He had been looking at a picture of them, Mary and Maria, the Sanchez twins, when he realized he couldn’t remember their voices. First he cried. Then he went down to a tattoo parlor and his mother signed off for her seventeen year old son to have ink painted under his skin.
When it was done his mother let her own tears fall. Two foxes, one black, one white, sat curled together on his left shoulder blade over a pale blue background; a ring of black and blue roses bordered them. He had chosen carefully. The two foxes for his trickster sisters, always cunning even into the end. The blue roses for something unattainable, complimented by black’s symbol of death. He would never get them back, (brain cancer was a bit of a bitch like that,) but he wouldn’t forget them either.
It was just over a year later that Voltron happened, and a certain red pilot invaded his thoughts. He watched from afar, but eventually they fell together. It was messy, and rushed, but it was also the single most amazing moment of Lance’s life when Keith told him he loved him. It was the single most terrifying when Lance was rushing to the healing pods, his lover in his arms. The red coating Lance’s front was not his own.
They’d told him not get his hopes up. That Keith was in bad condition and that healing pods can’t fix everything. Keith had survived. But in the two weeks of waiting Lance had found a planet with the skill he needed. It had taken a few days to figure out exactly what he wanted, and explaining it to the creature was no small task. Sure enough though, when Keith was healed Lance had shown him the new picture spanning his lower back.
He remembers the soft gasp from the boy as fingers brushed gently along the edges. A whisper, “you got this for me?” A black wolf standing guard at the base of an oak tree, dark red carnations beneath them and a scarlet desert sky above. A closer look would reveal the eyes to be purple. That night Keith traced the colors as Lance explained the significance of every aspect.
“The wolf for instinct and a need for freedom. The oak for strength.”
“What about the carnations?”
Lance turned from his stomach onto his back and took Keith’s hand in his own, threading their fingers. “Dark red carnations mean a deep love.”
Keith had cupped his jaw in his free hand, kissing him soft and reassuring. “I won’t leave you Lance, you didn’t have to get a tattoo to remember me.”
Lance smiled sadly and gently pressed their foreheads together, “Everybody leaves one day Keith, whether they want to or not. I don’t think you’ll be an exception.”
Keith frowned, and grabbed two fistfuls of Lance’s shirt to shove him down onto the bed beneath them. He sat on Lance’s hips, leaning down until their noses brushed. “Listen you idiot. I’m not going to leave you and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it through that thick skull of yours that I fucking love you and I’m staying. If death tries to take me one day I’ll just kick their ass.”
Lance’s laughs spiraled into tears, but Keith just wiped the water from his eyes and held him through it. Maybe Keith wouldn’t be leaving.
The next three tattoos Lance had done at the same time. Being trapped on a planet alone for two weeks really gave you time to think. It was after the first week he had decided what he would get for each person. A few weeks later he had it done at a nearby planet, and after the red faded from his skin he presented them to the team.
He had explained that he had gotten something to remember them by incase anything ever happened. He had pulled his shirt off and turned around, but when nothing was said he began to shift awkwardly under the silence.
“I’m sorry do you guys not like them? I guess I really didn’t ask-“
“Which one is mine?” Pidge brushed their fingers over the foxes, and Lance relaxed.
“The cat on the right of my spine is yours. Shiro’s is on my right shoulder blade and Hunk, yours is on the left of my spine.”
Small fingers brushed over the green cat, pausing at yellow eyes and making their way to pet along the patch of black-eyed-susans it sat in. “Why a cat for me? And why the flowers?”
Hunk leaned over to glance at his own. “Yeah I’d like to know what mine means too.”
“I for one am curious as well.” Shiro stood behind them, watching with a calming gaze.
Lance smiled in relief. “Okay, I’ll start with Pidge. The cat represents curiosity and intelligence. Black-eyed-susans are a symbol of justice.”
The hand continued to move over the picture until a large knuckle smoothed over the edge of the buffalo on the right. Pidge pulled her hand back as the attention moved to Hunk. “Why a yellow buffalo for me?”
“Buffalo’s are known for generosity and strength. They can also been seen as giving for the greater good.”
Hunk flushed gently, “Oh, wow. What about the flowers and leaves?”
“Well big guy, the leaves around the horns are ivy and the flower wreath around it’s neck is made of violets. Ivy means friendship and continuity, violets stand for loyalty and devotion.”
Hunk pressed his hand flat to the patch of color, whispering out a gentle ‘thankyou’ before stepping back to let Shiro walk forward. “I guess I’m last huh?” Shiro studied Lance’s right shoulder blade, a little awestruck at the detail of the work. A purple feathered eagle sat perched on the branch of a tree, a bundle of greens clamped in its beak.
Lance laughed and begun to explain. “All right Shiro. The eagle is sitting on a beech tree branch. The stuff in its mouth is a clump of thyme. The eagle is for protection from evil and authority. Beech trees are for patience, and thyme means courage and strength.” Finishing his explanation Lance pulled his shirt back over his head and turned to face his team.
Keith walked forward from his place against the wall, his right palm coming to settle over Lance’s lower back soothingly. “So, you guys like the tattoos?”
From Pidge and Hunk he got an eyeroll, and from Shiro a smile as they all moved forward, encircling him in their arms.
“Of course we like them you idiot.”
“How could we not like them dude?”
“It means a lot to us that you would get these Lance.” Shiro pulls back and rests a hand his shoulder. “You clearly put a lot of thought into each one of these. It’s an honor.”
Lance grins, worries cast aside. “Hey guys, I think I know what I want to get done for the final part of my back.”
The team sits with him this time as the needle enters his skin. It’s almost relaxing at this point as the vibrations wash over him. The flowers this time are not just a patch, but a solid field of blue salvia and white clover. They cover his back, bringing everything together into a flowing portrait.
A young Lance crouches next to his mother as she pulls up weeds from the garden. “Hey mama, tell me what the flowers mean again?”
She chuckles softly, “Sure cariño. See those over there?” She points to a patch of thin and tall blue flowers, small petals stacked on top of one another. “Those are blue salvia. They mean ‘I think of you.”
She picks a small flower from those beneath her feet, tucking it behind her son's ear. “The daisies here mean innocence and hope.”
The boy grins, and pulls a crumpled plant from his pocket. “What about this one mama?”
“That’s a white clover, baby. It means ‘think of me.’”