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The Atlas was louder than the castle and the lions were.
It wasn't noisy, but it was louder than the dead silence that Lance had grown accustomed to during his previous years in space. There was a quiet hum from the engines that hadn’t been audible in the Altean technology, and there were so many more people on board. He liked it.
Even with the search for Honerva tightening around them and meetings pulling him away every few days, there was the kind of breathing room that he hadn’t felt in a long time. There was still the urgency he had grown accustomed to, but it was a more quiet type that didn’t threaten to swallow him whole.
He and the other paladins found themselves growing closer in the gaps between missions and meetings - spending quiet time together in common rooms, talking for longer than they needed to, seeking one other out and choosing each other’s company rather than retreating into separate corners. For a long time, their relationships had felt forced and functional, like coworkers forced into proximity rather than genuine connection. Even Lance’s older bond with Pidge and Hunk had been dwindling, weathered down by the pressure of the war. Lately, they had been easing back into a close rhythm and regaining their familiarity. The jokes and laughter came back. Lance had missed them.
Keith and Shiro had wormed their way into a similar role too, no longer being just his begrudging coworkers and people he trusted in a fight, but genuine friends.
The most important part of it all however, was the simple fact that he got to spend so much time with her.
His girlfriend.
Honestly, Lance didn’t think he’d ever get to have this - yeah, he was a massive flirt but that didn’t mean it actually worked. Allura was quite literally lightyears out of his league, yet somehow he was the lucky guy who got to hold her pretty hands and kiss her pretty lips because she was his pretty, pretty, pretty girlfriend.
Allura didn’t really start noticing him, not properly, until after Lance grew up and dropped that stupid act. Because that’s what it was - an act. Lance had known for almost his entire life that he was… different from the other boys. It wasn’t anything quite obvious enough to name, but it still had enough of a presence for him to know that something was off. He didn’t move the same way, and he didn’t think the same way as the boys he was surrounded by. Instead of wasting time trying to figure out what it was that he was missing, Lance taught himself how to compensate - he picked up on the posture, the words, all the things that made the other boys’ interactions seem so easy, and the flirting came along with that. In all honesty, Lance rarely flirted when he actually meant it - and when he meant it, he didn’t do it like that. He had just realised that guys loved a ladies’ man. And Lance had always been good at being what people wanted, what they expected.
But honestly, he didn’t feel like he had to be that version of himself anymore, and he hadn’t for a long time - not in space, not with his strange little galactic family.
His mask was slowly slipping away now that they were back in space, so gradually that he hardly noticed it at the start. His overexaggerated swagger softened and he was becoming looser, more natural, more at home. The jokes he made at his own expense faded out, and even the flirting dulled - it didn’t disappear entirely, he was still himself, but it was a lot subtler and more honest now.
Allura had been the one to notice it first. It wasn’t in a way that made him feel called out, never that, but she smiled at him a little differently than how she used to. She was seeing what was underneath the act. Honestly, it felt like she was falling more in love with Lance every day, as she saw more of who he really was. Lance was, too.
That part was new. The love. Yeah, Lance had always had an embarrassingly huge pathetic puppy crush on her, but he hadn’t been in love - that was what he was now. And he got to tell it to her, every single day.
I love you, he’d whisper when he pressed his lips to her hair, her cheek, her neck, the soft inside of her thighs. He’d say it again and again and again as he peppered her entire face with noisy, exaggerated kisses until she had tears streaming down her face from laughter and she was saying it back to him.
They had settled into something steady on the Atlas. Not boring - Lance couldn’t be bored with Allura if he tried - but easy, certain, like they had found a rhythm that came as naturally to the both of them as breathing and blinking.
A lot of their time together ended up being quiet, in a way that Lance had never really experienced before. There wasn’t any silence or awkwardness, they were just existing in the same space, close enough to feel each other breathe.
And, more often than not, surrounded by an absurd amount of skincare products.
“Nuh uh, nope, you are not skipping moisturiser,” Lance said, grabbing her wrist before she could pull away. “I don’t care if Alteans have magical perfect skin or whatever, this is part of the routine.”
Allura laughed, letting him tug her back down onto the edge of the bed. “You are very passionate about this.”
“As I should be! This is self care, Your Highness. It’s sacred.”
“You just enjoy bossing me around.”
“That too,” he admitted easily, already dipping his fingers into the cream. “Now hold still.”
She did, watching his face instead of herself in the mirror as he smoothed it over her skin with careful, practiced movements. Lance had always been like this - precise, attentive, a total perfectionist when it came to anything aesthetic. Clothes, hair, the way he presented himself, it all mattered to him, and he had never been able to pretend otherwise even with the mask he used to wear.
“What?” he asked after a moment, catching the way she was looking at him.
Allura’s smile softened. “Nothing. I simply like watching you.”
Lance felt his face flushing, but he attempted to cover it with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. I’m pretty, I know.”
“Mm,” she hummed in agreement. “Very.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re prettier.”
“I am a princess,” she joked lightly. “It is expected of me.”
“And I’m-” He stopped himself, not really knowing where he had been going with that sentence, something catching in his throat.
Allura tilted her head. “You are…?”
Lance blinked, then laughed it off, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, you don’t get to flex that when I clearly outdo you.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. Now,” he clapped his hands once, brightening again, “tonight, we are upgrading your routine.”
Allura raised a perfect eyebrow. “Upgrading?”
“Manicures.”
Her expression shifted, curious. “You wish to paint my nails?”
“I wish,” Lance corrected, already rummaging through the small collection he’d built up, “to give you the full Lancey Lance experience.”
They ended up on the floor.
Lance insisted it was for the vibe, even though Allura was almost 100% certain he had just run out of flat surfaces to spread things on. Bottles, tools, little brushes, everything was all laid out between them in a semi-organised clutter.
“Hands,” he said, holding his own out expectantly.
Allura placed hers in his without hesitation.
There was something about this, too. The way he handled her - gentle but sure, like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he liked doing it. His thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly as he worked, steadying her hand as he painted.
“You are very focused,” she murmured.
“I have a reputation to uphold.”
“With who?”
“With myself,” he shot back. “And you should be honoured. Not everyone gets this level of service.”
“I feel very fortunate,” she said back softly, completely sincere.
He glanced up at her, caught off guard by it, and for a second he just looked.
Good god, she was beautiful. He felt his face heating up as butterflies danced in his stomach as her big kaleidoscope eyes met his own baby blues. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou was running around, trapped in his brain, beating on every single wrinkle just in case he didn’t get it yet.
“Okay, don’t move,” he said quickly, looking back down before he could get too distracted. “If you smudge this I will be judging you.”
Allura laughed softly, but stayed perfectly still.
When he finished, he lifted her hand slightly, turning it to catch the light. The polish shimmered - blue and sparkly, a bit of both of them.
“There,” he said, satisfied. “Perfect.”
“They are beautiful,” she said, admiring them, before her gaze flicked back to him. “Your turn.”
Lance blinked. “Huh?”
“You did not think I would return the favour?”
“Oh, no, I just-” He hesitated for half a second, then held his hand out, a little more eager than he meant to be. “Yeah, okay. But do not mess it up.”
“There is no need to worry, I have learned from the best,” she said with a small smile, already taking his hand.
Her touch was different from his. Softer, maybe. A little clumsy, but careful in a way that made something warm curl low in his chest. He liked how tender she was with him, how she always touched him like he was something precious. She concentrated as she worked, brows furrowed and her tongue just barely pressing against the inside of her cheek, and Lance found himself watching her instead of what she was doing.
“You are staring,” she said without looking up.
“Can you blame me?”
“Yes.”
“Rude.”
Her lips quirked up in a barely there smile, finishing one nail before moving to the next. “You are going to distract me.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“Hm. Perhaps.”
There was a quiet stretch after that, filled only by the quiet sounds of Allura dipping the brush back into the bottle and the faint hum of the Atlas beneath them.
Allura broke it first.
“You know,” she said, almost absently, “sometimes it feels less like I have a boyfriend…”
Lance snorted out a loud laugh immediately, not taking offense but completely knocked off guard. “Wow, okay, didn’t realise my services were that bad-”
“…and more like I have a girlfriend.”
Lance’s laugh faltered, everything inside him freezing.
It didn’t hit him, not all at once. It wasn’t sharp or jarring. It just.. sunk, deep and heavy.
Girlfriend.
He looked down at their joined hands - hers holding his, steady and careful, his nails now painted to match hers, shimmering faintly in the light. He could feel his palms sweating in hers, but Allura didn’t seem to mind.
The heaviness in his chest shifted. Nothing was wrong. Closer to the opposite, really.
“Oh,” Lance said, barely above a whisper.
Allura stilled, hearing the hoarseness of his voice, her grip tightening just slightly. “Lance?”
He didn’t look up.
“I-” He slowly released a small, shaky breath, his thoughts suddenly moving too fast and too slow at the same time. “That didn’t feel like a joke.”
There was a pause, careful and open.
“What did it feel like?” she asked gently.
“Like…” He swallowed, throat bobbing, fingers curling up slightly in her hold. “It felt like you just said something that I was supposed to know already.”
The words felt fragile, and more vulnerable than anything he’d ever said, but once they were out, they didn’t feel wrong. If anything, they felt closer to the truth than anything he’d said about himself in a long time.
“I think,” he said slowly, “I think I’ve been trying to be a guy for so long that I didn’t even notice it didn’t fit. That I didn’t even think about the fact that guys usually don’t really have to try to be guys.”
His voice broke, just a little.
“And now it’s like,” he huffed out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, “like everything makes more sense if I’m not.”
Allura was silent. It wasn’t tense, and it wasn’t cold. She was just.. quiet.
Lance finally looked up at her.
She was already looking at him, something soft and bright and certain in her expression that made his chest ache.
“You do not have to be anything that you are not,” she said.
Simple. Like it was obvious.
Like he was obvious.
“You’re not-” he started, then faltered, his voice breaking as tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. He took a breath and then tried again, “This isn’t-”
“Weird?” she finished gently.
“…yeah.”
Her smile warmed, and she squeezed his hand, careful of the still drying polish.
“No,” she said. “It is you.”
That was it. No hesitation, no confusion, no doubt.
Just… Lance.
Something in his chest cracked open, not painful, not breaking apart, but opening, like he could finally take a deep breath and feel full.
Lance let out a soft, shaky laugh, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “So what, you’ve just been, what, dating a girl this whole time?”
Allura tilted her head, her expression turning just a touch playful again.
“It would seem so.”
He made a sound, half laughing, half something closer to a sob, tears flowing freely now. “And you’re okay with that?”
She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles, careful and deliberate.
“I am more than okay with it,” she said against his skin. “I am very happy.”
Lance’s breath caught. God, he loved her. He could feel his pulse slamming her name into every square inch of his body. He felt a little sick with it. Or maybe that was something else.
“I think,” he said slowly, like he was testing out the shape of it, before he faltered. His brows furrowed, uncertainty flickering across his face, “I think I-”
He stopped. The words didn’t come very easily this time. He unconsciously tightened his grip on her hand then, as if he was trying to ground himself.
“It felt really right when you said that earlier,” he admits quietly instead, his voice low and wavering, “It didn’t feel like a joke, or like you were teasing me or anything like that. It just-” he released a slow, shaky breath, “-it just made sense. And it's kinda freaking me out, I think.”
Allura didn’t interrupt, she just squeezed Lance’s hands gently in encouragement, her big eyes watching him.
He swallowed, shaking his head a little, overwhelmed. “It shouldn’t be this easy, right?” he huffs out a small laugh, “Like, I spent my entire life getting myself wrong, knowing that I was getting everything wrong and now it’s just - what, one sentence and everything clicks?”
His voice was wobbling, tears leaving tracks down his face.
“I don’t know if I can trust that,” he said, softer still. “I don’t know if I trust myself to not just.. latch onto the first thing that I think fits.”
There was a quiet pause, heavier than before. His eyes dropped back to their hands, to the blue shimmer of polish on both of their fingers, to the way his girlfriend held him like none of this scared her at all.
He squeezes his eyes shut before whispering, “I just don’t want to go back to how it felt before.”
That was what did it. He let out a slow breath, steady this time, and the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. It wasn’t gone, but it was shifting, like something inside him had made a decision before he could quite catch up to it. It was still scary. This was big. But it was okay, the warm hands clutching his own reminded him.
“I think,” he said again, more quietly this time, like he was finally letting himself feel it, “I’m a girl.”
Allura looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Then I am very glad to have a girlfriend,” she said warmly.
“It’s that easy?” Lance whispered, sniffing a little.
Allura just smiled and squeezed his hands before answering, “I love you, Lance.”
He slipped his hands out from hers to cradle her face instead, careful and reverent, leaning in until their foreheads touched.
“I love you too, ‘Lura.”