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The never-ending laughter coming from the living room was almost unbearable, at least in Keith’s opinion. Music was pulsing through his chest like it never had before, the floor shaking from the constant jumping and dancing, making one think they were going to collapse any minute. The bright, colourful lights blinding him weren’t helping him feel any better about the whole situation either.
Keith was comfortable right where he was, crouched on an isolated sofa with a drink in his hand, hesitantly hovering it near his lips. Whatever it was, it smelled like poison. Someone had decided to mix him a poorly prepared drink that would definitely knock him out right on the spot, so there was zero chance he would be drinking that, thank you very much. Setting his drink on the glass table in front of him, he gazed through the window, which was honestly his only escape from all of this.
He had never been a party kind of guy. The smell of bad decisions and alcohol permeating the air all around him made him sick to the stomach, and the presence of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other was too overwhelming for him.
Celebration should be the only thing on his mind, to get out of his usual reserved form, and have a pleasant night, just for once. After all, risking their lives to save the universe was a heroic feat that he and his team were carrying on their shoulders. Yet this dread-filled hole of emptiness kept spreading across his chest. His heart should have been lighter than it was — every reason to smile was laid out right in front of him, but unease lingered beneath the surface.
Keith's loyalty now belonged to the Blade of Marmora, and he honestly couldn't complain. Family was something he had dreamt of since childhood. The chance to be side by side with his mother and his kind was exhilarating, sending blood rushing through his veins with more than excitement. He might have proved to be quite a great leader, as Kolivan insisted, but once he addressed this to Keith, along with the fact that more than a few people wished to have him be a Galra leader, he had to step back a bit and think about it and — well, refuse it. Joining the Galactic Coalition was something he would be much more confident in doing and he could actually help someone.
Keith shifted his attention to Veronica and Pidge in the doorway, who were probably engrossed in a discussion about some scientific breakthrough known only to them, faces all scrunched up, nodding in acknowledgement. Well, at least someone was having a good time, he supposed.
A sudden light touch on his arm sent a jolt through him, goosebumps racing across his skin and his shoulders snapping upward.
“What the hell, man?” Keith looked up at Lance.
Unlike Keith, who was still recovering from the heart attack that touch had nearly caused, Lance looked entirely too pleased with himself. The corners of his mouth were practically brushing his ears and a drink dangled lazily from his hand, amber liquid catching the gold light of the party. At least his looked drinkable.
The navy velvet shirt he wore — unbuttoned far enough to be a public menace — contrasted perfectly with his skin. The fabric shifted every time he moved, drawing attention to the line of his collarbone and the thin golden chain resting there. It should've looked ridiculous.
Instead, it looked almost charming.
“Relax,” Lance said. “You looked like you were having an existential crisis.”
“I was…thinking.”
“Dangerous hobby.”
Hot sweat slowly crept down his neck. Someone had either forgotten to turn on the air conditioner or Lance’s presence radiated too much warmth. Keith rolled his eyes and reached for his drink, immediately regretting it when the bitter liquid hit his tongue, having forgotten what monstrosity was hiding inside the cup. “You know, one day someone’s going to get tired of your personality.”
Lance took a sip from his own cup. “And yet that day never seems to arrive,” he smirked, smugly.
“That’s because people mistake confidence for charm.”
“Same thing.”
Keith hated that he had no immediate comeback to that.
The party swelled around them, voices blending into a dull roar beneath the music. Somewhere across the room, someone laughed loud enough to turn heads.
Lance leaned against the edge of the table beside him, bringing his face rather closer than Keith would have liked. “So what were you thinking about?”
“Uh… Nothing important?”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Lance pointed at him, as if he had just lied about eating the last slice of pizza and Lance had caught him with a tomato sauce stain on his shirt.
Keith glanced at him through his eyelashes, his lips pressed shut. Lance’s grin widened. “I don't know why I tell you anything.”
“You usually don't. That's why I have to investigate, Mullet.”
“Our agreement about ceasing to call me that meant nothing to you?”
“Blah, blah, blah…you’re no fun!”
“Whatever. Investigate?”
“Yeah.” Lance gestured vaguely with his drink. “Observe. Gather evidence. Draw conclusions.”
“You make me sound like a crime scene.”
“You kind of are, with that outfit on,” teased Lance, looking him over.
Keith snorted despite himself; suddenly the lamp on Lance’s right seemed to deserve being the centre of his attention. The "horrendous outfit" in question, as Lance would say, or as he had implied at least, was literally just his old dusty jacket and a pair of blackish jeans. What a drama queen.
Lance immediately pointed at him. “There! See? That was a genuine reaction! Progress.”
“Oh my god, you’re insufferable.”
“People keep saying that.”
“Maybe you should listen.”
“Maybe everyone else is wrong.”
The confidence in his voice should have been annoying. Somehow, tonight, it wasn't. Despite everything he had gone through in the last month, Lance seemed to be the member who had recovered the quickest. Which was more than surprising. Or not. Keith wasn’t sure of it himself anymore.
He looked away, letting his gaze drift over the crowd in the next room. He could still feel Lance watching him.
Waiting.
It was one of the things that made him difficult to ignore. Most people got distracted, but Lance seemed physically incapable of it when he decided someone was worth his attention.
Unfortunately, Keith had apparently been one of those people since forever. Lance always found an excuse to look at him, bicker with him about unimportant stuff that mattered the least in the moment.
Then there was Lance’s weird quirk with touch.
He would lightly touch his shoulder to lean on him when he thought Keith wasn’t paying attention, usually while Lance was in a heated discussion with Hunk and Pidge about what aliens they would encounter next in the neighbourhood. During the morning team meetings, Lance’s hand would gently brush against his thigh and arm whenever he debated with others about plans, possibly a mistake, though it happened far too frequently. Keith couldn’t help but notice all of this. He wasn’t sure if Lance had, but it made his insides flutter in a curious way it never had before.
After a moment, Lance nudged his shoulder. More gently this time.
“So?”
“So what?” Keith responded.
“What was the existential crisis about?”
Keith sighed. “I was just wondering how everyone here makes this look so easy.”
Lance blinked. The joking expression slipped for a fraction of a second.
“Easy?”
“Talking. Mingling. Existing in a room full of strangers without wanting to climb out a window.”
A laugh escaped Lance. “That’s what you’ve been polarising about?” he covered his mouth, laughing spiritedly. “Really, Keith? Relax and join us in celebrating! You deserve it the most, right after me, of course.”
Keith snorted again. This was probably the most he had smiled in the past 6 months. Lance had a strange power that made people laugh in an instant.
And yet, Keith didn’t belong here with Lance’s family, friends and acquaintances. Nor his team. There were people waiting for him at the other end of the galaxy. Here, on Earth, nothing obligated him to stay. Not even this party that had been thrown for him. The house was filled with familiar faces, yet none of them belonged to people he could return to the next morning.
“Let me just talk to Shiro real quick, okay?” Keith sighed, standing up from his cocooned place.
A rattling sound came from the other door and a furry head popped in. Cosmo sprinted towards him, bumping his head into Keith’s leg. Ah, he’d missed him. The damn wolf couldn’t even spend 15 minutes without him.
“Sure, man!” Lance fixed his gaze on Cosmo. "He's quite the celebrity around here, you know? Silvio and Luisa couldn’t take their hands off him!” he crouched down to Cosmo, ruffling the fur around his neck.
“Looks like he likes you too.” Keith crossed his arms, staring at those two morons. Seeing Lance all domestic like this made his heart lurch a bit, and he immediately hated himself for noticing it at all.
There was something unfair about the way Lance's face softened around animals, all easy smiles and gentle hands. Cosmo rolled onto his back, shamelessly demanding more attention, and Lance obliged without hesitation. Keith looked away first, feigning sudden interest in a crack running along the wall.
“By the way…”
Keith swung back around to Lance.
But Lance’s gaze remained fixed on Cosmo, as though the little creature held the words he couldn't quite bring himself to say. “You know that… you can tell me anything, right?”
The silence between them stretched.
"I know all of this is... a lot. More than a lot, sometimes." He let out a small, humourless laugh. "We've carried so much for so long that I think neither of us remembers what it's like to set it down."
Keith’s fingers curled at his side, his breath suddenly stuck in his chest.
"And no matter what happens, I'll be there. Your right hand man. Just like always." He swallowed. "We've been through too much together for it to be any other way."
"Same here, really."
"It's just... now that everything's over — now that she's gone..."
Oh. Of course. Allura. Maybe if she were still here, Lance would be happier.
At last, Lance lifted his eyes.
“Keith, I—”
“Tio Lance! Quick! Come help us set up the fireplace outside!” Silvio called out from the doorway, urgently waving at Lance to hurry up.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going!” Lance let his hand linger in Cosmo’s fur for one more second. A radiant smile spread across his face. “What can I say? I’m always needed somewhere.”
“I can see that,” Keith responded sarcastically.
A short, thin silence lingered between them, again, with more than a little awkwardness.
Lance reached out, lightly touching Keith’s arm. “Alright, see you later, samurai!” and with that, he disappeared through the doorway among the crowd.
But Keith knew there would be no later.
He waited until Lance was completely out of sight.
The music swallowed him whole. For a moment, Keith stood motionless, staring at the doorway. Lance’s citrus fragrance was hanging in the air and the warmth of his brief touch still lingered against his arm.
Don't go.
He shoved the thought away. This was exactly why he needed to leave. The longer he stayed, the harder it became. No more hesitations.
Cosmo nudged his hand, wagging his tail happily. He probably had no idea what was going on inside him.
"Come on, Cosmo."
He followed Keith without hesitation.
Instead of heading toward the living room, Keith slipped down the hallway toward the front entrance. Nobody stopped him. Nobody noticed. The party remained loud enough to hide his departure.
A familiar ache settled in his chest.
Funny.
After years of sneaking out of places, running from foster homes, from expectations, from himself, he thought it would be easier. It had felt easier when he had abandoned previous foster families or when he had “escaped” to the Blade of Marmora, running away to discover more about his heritage.
But this was different.
Outside, the summer air hit him immediately. Ocean waves crashed softly into each other and rolled gently towards the shore. Keith could see why Lance loved it so much – he was like the ocean, bright and playful beneath the sun, yet deeper than most could see. Beneath his laughter flowed quiet strength, and like the tides, he always found his way back to the people he loved.
The noise of the party became muffled behind the walls and Keith breathed for what felt like the first time all evening.
The Blade of Marmora shuttle waited several fields away where nobody would notice it. Krolia had agreed to leave first thing tomorrow morning, but Keith intended to leave tonight.
No goodbyes. No awkward conversations. No explanations. Shiro and the others would understand, so hopefully Lance might too.
It would be simpler that way. It was always simpler that way.
When he was halfway across the yard, a voice called out behind him.
"Wow."
Keith froze in place.
"Just wow. No dramatic goodbye speech? I'm honestly offended."
His stomach dropped.
Lance. Of course.
For a second Keith considered pretending he hadn't heard him. That failed immediately. He turned around, slowly, fixing his gaze on Lance.
“You do know that I can see you even if you’re standing still, right?”
"You're supposed to be helping out with the fireplace." Suddenly maintaining eye contact was harder than it should have been.
Lance walked closer, hands shoved into his pockets. For once, his face was unreadable.
"And you're supposed to be talking to Shiro."
"..."
"...”
"Right."
Keith sighed.
The backyard lights cast long shadows across the grass, shining at Lance and his glowy skin, making it glitter slightly.
Lance stopped a few feet away. Not close enough to touch. "You were leaving."
It wasn't a question. Keith hated that.
"Yeah," he admitted.
"And you weren't coming back," something sparkled in Lance’s eyes, a fleeting mix of relief and hurt that vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Still not a question.
Keith looked away, gazing upon the sea. “I don’t belong here, and you know it. I’m joining the Galactic Coalition, to help grow it. You remember me talking about that, right? No one needs me here anyway. Go back to your family, they’re probably looking for you as we speak.” Just lie after lie.
Something flickered across Lance's face.
Not anger. Not surprise. Something worse: disappointment.
"Wow."
"Lance—"
"No, it's okay. I get it, man," Lance chuckled bitterly. The smile he forced looked painful.
"It's actually kind of funny."
“What is?” Keith frowned.
"You really think you mean nothing to us." The words landed harder than any punch.
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to," Lance deadpanned, kicking at some grass, "Every time stuff gets difficult, you leave."
Keith stiffened.
“You have a whole team of friends supporting you.”
"I know."
"You have your mom now."
"I know."
"You’ve found an entire family."
Keith swallowed.
"I know."
"And somehow you're still standing here acting like nobody would miss you."
The backyard suddenly felt claustrophobic. Keith tried to look anywhere but Lance’s eyes.
The stars.
The fence.
The sea.
Cosmo.
Anywhere.
Lance laughed softly, but there wasn't any humour in it. Keith would give anything to instead hear his bubbly laugh.
"You know what the worst part is?" Lance looked away, as if reconsidering his words.
Keith already hated where this was going. "What?"
"I almost let you."
The words were barely above a whisper. Lance looked up.
For the first time all night, he wasn't smiling, his eyes now shiny with tears threatening to spill out of them. He was biting on his lower lip.
"I– I almost watched you walk away, because I thought maybe– maybe that's what you needed." Lance closed the gap between them with a few steps. Keith, frozen in place, could do nothing, except stand there and look into Lance’s big teary eyes. His throat tightened. He hadn’t wanted to make Lance cry, not like this.
Lance brushed a cold hand against Keith’s warm face. "But then I kept thinking about tomorrow."
The sounds of the party drifted through an open window. Someone cheered. Someone else started singing out of tune. Life continued.
Meanwhile his whole world had narrowed to this single conversation.
"Tomorrow I'd wake up," Lance continued, "and somebody would say your name."
Keith's chest hurt.
"And I'd realize you were gone." Lance’s thumb brushed across his cheek, "And I never got to say it."
Keith's pulse thundered in his ears. Say what? The question hung between them.
“I loved her.”
It was like ripping off a bandaid. Allura, of course. He had liked her.
“And I miss her, truly.”
Keith felt something sink inside him, something heavy and inevitable.
"But you were the one I always had the eyes for."
Keith held his breath. Suddenly he knew. Maybe he'd known for months. Maybe years. It all clicked together.
The lingering touches and constant attention. The way Lance always looked for him first in a room full of people, the constant bickering, bits of flirting that he had thought Lance did with everyone, the comments about his looks. Lance always found a way to sit next to him, fight by his side.
The way he had always noticed, every single time… and yet was so blinded by his own feelings that he ignored Lance’s.
"Keith." Lance’s voice cracked.
The silence stretched on and neither of them moved. Neither of them knew how. Keith wasn’t the greatest at this, he knew that already.
“You still haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Lance took a step back, his face wreathed in something far stronger than disappointment. He looked broken.
“Wait–”
"It's fine." As Lance was turning around, Keith caught his hand. The wind blew Lance’s bangs around, revealing the entirety of his face.
"It isn't!" For the first time, Keith heard the desperation in his own voice.
Lance heard it too.
Keith couldn’t bear the distance between them, couldn’t allow it to stretch. He couldn’t let go of his hand. "I don't want to leave like this. To leave you like this.”
Lance's eyes searched his face, looking for something Keith himself wasn’t sure he had. "Then don't."
Two simple words. Nothing more.
Yet they hit Keith harder than anything else that night, because beneath them was the thing Lance wasn't saying.
Stay.
Keith felt the old instinct screaming at him to run, to board the shuttle and lock his feelings deep inside himself where they belonged, to disappear before he could get hurt.
Keith scanned Lance’s face. The uncertainty hidden behind the confidence he was so used to seeing was screaming at him. The hope Lance was so desperately trying not to show through his suave mask. that this time, for once, he was tired of running. Cosmo brushed against his leg, grounding him.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Lance blinked, "Wait, what?”
Keith's heart hammered against his ribs. "Maybe..." his voice almost failed, "Maybe leaving can wait."
For several seconds neither of them spoke. Then, Lance launched himself at Keith, squeezing him in a tight embrace. Lance buried his face into Keith’s neck, wetting it with his tears. There was nothing Keith could do but reciprocate; his hand automatically found its way into Lance’s soft hair.
“You almost gave me a heart attack, you know!” Lance mumbled into Keith’s neck and then lifted up his head.
Slowly, a genuine smile appeared on his face, and somehow, it felt more dangerous than any battle Keith had ever fought.
Because staying had been the hard part;
But leaving him was the impossible one.