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Really, by now Lance should be used to waiting. He should be the most patient person in the world. He used to spend what felt like hours waiting for his sisters to be ready or for his brother to finish showering so he could have his turn. He would wait for hours in amusement park lines, wait for his face masks to dry, and wait for his ramen to cook.
But despite all of that, Lance can’t help feeling a little agitated that Keith still hasn’t shown up. They were supposed to start movie night about an hour ago, and Lance hasn’t heard from him at all.
Lance huffs softly as he settles deeper into the pillows he’d brought into the lounge. He grabs a handful of popcorn—or, at least, something similar to popcorn—and shoves it all into his mouth. He checks the time again.
More than an hour has passed now.
Usually, Lance would accept that he’d been stood up and move on. But Keith was the one who said he wanted to do this, claiming he’d found an amusingly horrific movie to watch with Lance.
Besides, it’s not like Keith to do that. He probably got distracted and lost track of time.
He keeps telling himself that as the minutes go by. He reminds himself when he eats all the popcorn and their tea goes cold. He reminds himself as he puts on a random movie, another hour passes, and the castle’s nighttime cycle turns on.
By the time Lance’s movie ends, he’s feeling a little hurt and a little petty. He’s sure Keith had a good reason. It just kind of sucks.
Lance gathers up the pillows he’d brought and stuffs them into the nearest storage closet. Then he clears the kind-of-popcorn bowl, the bowls of alien candy, his empty teacup, and Keith’s still-full one. He sighs when he sets the uneaten food on the counter, staring mournfully at the candy he doesn’t feel like eating anymore. He starts washing the dishes, not wanting to leave a mess for Hunk or Coran to clean up later.
Usually, when Lance does his chores around the castle, he sings a little or talks to someone. He doesn’t really feel like doing either. He just goes through the process in silence.
When he’s done, he figures he might as well go to bed. Maybe that’s where Keith is.
Lance’s stomach clenches at the thought, hurt despite himself. He shakes it off, knowing Keith wouldn’t do that.
He wanders out of the kitchen, not feeling particularly tired but not having anything else to do.
That’s when Keith finds him.
Keith rounds the corner, looking distressed, his arms wrapped around himself. Lance has never liked that look on his face, and he definitely doesn’t now.
Lance has only a moment to worry before Keith spots him and rushes forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Lance wraps his arms around him immediately, even though he’s surprised by the sudden embrace. Keith must be really upset to hug Lance so fiercely.
“Are you okay?” he asks, not letting Keith say anything. He pulls back and cups Keith’s face, turning it side to side. He doesn’t see anything wrong but that doesn’t reassure him.
“I’m fine,” Keith says. Usually, he would slap Lance’s hands away. Now, he just stares guiltily.
“Then, what happened?” Lance asks softly, still not really convinced.
Keith rests his head on Lance’s shoulder. “Shiro had another flashback. A bad one. I didn’t want to leave him alone, so I invited him to spar with me to make him feel better. I lost track of time. I’m really sorry.”
Even though Shiro has been working on his PTSD for months, he still has bad breakdowns. It’s gotten a lot better, but it makes sense why Keith was there. Lance wouldn’t want to leave Shiro alone either.
Lance sighs into Keith’s damp hair, breathing in the smell of soap. He must’ve showered after sparring.
“It’s okay,” Lance assures him. “He needed you. We can do movie night another time.”
There’s a moment of silence, of hesitation. “Are you upset?”
“No,” Lance replies, and that’s the truth. “It’s just a movie. It’s okay.”
And it is okay. Technically.
He’s still a tiny bit bitter about the wasted tea, though.
Keith sags in Lance’s arms, relieved and probably a little exhausted.
“Okay. If you say so.”
“I know so,” Lance tells him, rubbing his spine through his shirt. “Are you ready for bed?”
“Yeah,” Keith says into Lance’s shirt. “Are you?”
“I was on my way there when you ran into me. Let’s go.”
When they get into bed that night, Keith rests his head on Lance’s chest, intertwining their legs. Lance sucks in a breath, savoring the warmth of Keith’s body and the smell of his shampoo. He combs through Keith’s hair, admiring the softness.
As he falls asleep, he can’t help feeling grateful for the person he ended up with, someone so thoughtful and considerate.
He briefly wonders how Keith feels about him before he dozes off.
⎯
Lance feels like an absolute asshole.
Last night, Keith had something important to do. Lance respects that, he really does. But he just can’t stop thinking about it. The effort he put in and the hours he spent waiting replay in his head over and over.
Keith needed to help a friend. Period. That was the right thing to do.
But something about it just isn’t sitting right with Lance no matter how many ways he turns it around in his mind. He doesn’t even feel angry or betrayed. He’s just been unsettled all day and he doesn’t know why.
He tried distracting himself by talking to Hunk. He tried cleaning the pods with Coran, but it didn’t make him feel better. Pidge promptly kicked him out when he stepped on their foot. Allura just kept looking at him like he was an idiot.
He feels awful. He shouldn’t be this bothered.
Now, he’s training. It has been—and always will be—his last resort whenever something weighs on him. Nothing else is working, and he really wants to get over it. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here.
As he progresses, the targets start dropping from the ceiling faster, keeping him on his toes. He hasn’t missed a single one yet. His arms are starting to get tired, his shoulders aching from the recoil of every shot, but he’s not ready to stop. He falls into the rhythm, reacting on instinct. He tears through levels effortlessly, not stopping to take a break or catch his breath. He just keeps shooting, pulling the trigger like this was what he was made to do. He gets why Keith likes it here.
“End training sequence.”
Lance yelps, missing his shot. He turns to the door. Keith leans against the doorway, expression unreadable.
“Hey, Keith,” Lance says, wiping his palms on his pants and approaching his boyfriend. “What’s up?”
“I was looking for you. Dinner’s ready.”
That catches Lance off guard. He hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.
“Oh, okay,” he replies, placing his hands on Keith’s waist like that’s where they belong. “Let me shower first and then I’ll join you.”
Lance smiles at him, but Keith doesn’t move. He looks unsure, as if he isn’t ready for Lance to walk away.
“Keith?” Lance asks, ducking his head to catch his gaze. Big amethyst eyes meet his, and he melts. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?”
He sounds so serious, so concerned. Lance worries Keith somehow knows he’s uneasy. He tries to play it off, smiling fondly down at Keith.
“What do you mean?” Lance asks, rubbing his hands over Keith’s hips comfortingly. “Of course I am.”
“You’re training,” Keith says bluntly. “You never do that unless you’re being forced to.”
Lance shrugs. “I was bored.”
Keith doesn’t quite buy it. “You could’ve gone swimming.”
“I’m tired of swimming.”
“You could’ve hung out with someone.”
“They were all busy.”
“You could’ve hung out with me. I wasn’t busy.”
“Yeah, but I’m always hanging out with you,” Lance says dramatically. “At some point you’re gonna get tired of me.”
The joke dies on his tongue almost as soon as he says it.
Could that happen? He hadn’t considered it before, but now he can’t shake the thought.
But that’s ridiculous. Keith was helping a friend. He wasn’t just blowing Lance off. He would have been there if he could.
Right?
Keith scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”
He didn’t deny it.
Not that he had to, of course. Lance knows Keith wouldn’t get tired of him.
At least, he should know.
“You should go to dinner now,” Lance tells him. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
Keith looks at him fondly, if a little uncertain. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Lance sighs playfully. “Yes, Keith. I’m fine. I really want to shower now.”
Keith chuckles a little as he pulls away.
“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”
⎯
He meant it literally.
When Lance finished his shower, he had expected everyone to be in the dining room finishing up.
But he walked into the hallway and Keith was there. Waiting for Lance, just as he’d said he would, leaning against the wall and inspecting the seams of his gloves.
Lance felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He felt like an idiot.
“Aww, babe,” Lance whined dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
Keith raised an eyebrow as if trying to remain stoic, but Lance could see the corners of his lips curl.
“I wanted to walk with you.” Keith shrugged indifferently.
“You’re so adorable, oh my God,” Lance gushed, slinging his arms over Keith’s shoulders and dragging him down the hall.
Keith rolled his eyes but leaned into Lance all the same.
They walked in silence for a long while, finding peace in the quiet. Lance let himself relax, the dregs of anxiety unwinding in Keith’s comforting presence.
Everything’s fine. Keith wouldn’t have waited if he didn’t care. He’s just being ridiculous.
When Keith broke the silence, he did it cautiously.
“Do you still wanna do movie night?”
Lance grinned, fondness making him giddy. He tried to reel it in.
“Only if you want to.” Lance shrugged.
“Yeah, I do,” Keith said, cringing a little. “I still feel bad about missing last night.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lance said, pulling Keith to a stop in front of the dining room doors. “You were doing the right thing.”
And all of that was true. Lance had no reason to be upset. He was just being an idiot.
“But it must’ve sucked when it happened,” Keith insisted. “I mean, like—I don’t know. It must’ve felt like I just—ditched you, or something. That sucks.”
“But that’s not what you did,” Lance said with a sigh. “I’m not upset about it.”
Anymore, he thought. Keith doesn’t need to know that.
“Whatever,” Keith grumbled. “I want to reschedule.”
“That’s fine,” Lance said, kissing Keith’s cheek. “We can do it next time we’re off.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Lance smiled at him.
The entirety of dinner, Lance felt awful. He couldn’t believe he had even considered that Keith would get tired of him. Keith’s not like that, and he never has been. That’s why Lance loves him. He loves his unwavering loyalty. He loves the way Keith shoves food in his mouth as fast as he can, as if he’s never going to eat again; the way he always ends up choking as a result. The way Keith collapses into bed at the end of the day and groans in exhaustion, burrowing deep into the covers and stealing Lance’s body heat.
Lance just couldn’t imagine Keith ever getting tired of him.
He couldn’t.
⎯
A few days later, Lance is bored out of his mind.
He doesn’t feel like swimming, and it’s just him and Keith in the castle so there aren't exactly many people to talk to.
He’d be talking to Keith if he could find him. Seriously, the castle can’t be that big.
He huffs when he finds the kitchen empty, stomping his foot childishly. He turns around, marching to the lounge.
Lance practically gasps in relief when he finds him.
There Keith is, curled up on the couch with a book. Lance flops down beside him with a grin.
“Hey, Keithy, watcha reading?” he asks casually, leaning his head on Keith’s shoulder to peer down at his book.
Keith shrugs him off a little. “A book I found. It’s actually kind of interesting.”
“That’s cool,” Lance says conversationally, ignoring the sting he feels from being shrugged off. “What’s it about?”
Keith doesn’t look up, flipping the page without much thought. “Maybe you should let me read it and find out,” he responds absently.
“I’m bored,” Lance complains, nuzzling into Keith’s shoulder.
Keith nudges him away. “Give me a minute. I’m almost done.”
Lance scoffs, but he gets up and walks away.
⎯
When they finally have their movie night, Keith sits on the opposite side of the couch.
Lance had expected him to shift closer eventually, but as the movie goes on, he doesn’t move an inch other than to reach for the popcorn.
The movie is laughably terrible, just as Keith had said, but Lance can’t focus on it.
He knows he must sound like a child, but usually Keith cuddles with him. Without having to be asked, he’ll lay down right on top of Lance or he’ll intertwine their legs, and Lance cherishes it. He wants that again.
Lance shifts closer. Keith doesn’t look up.
“Keith?” Lance says finally, cautiously as if he isn’t even sure if he’s going to go through with it.
Keith looks at him, raising an eyebrow.
Lance exhales slowly, nervously. “Um—Don’t you wanna, like, lay with me?”
Lance winces internally, wishes he could melt into the couch.
Keith’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh, uh… Yeah, I guess so.”
Keith settles against him.
It isn’t the same.
⎯
A few nights later, Keith goes to bed without Lance.
Which is fine. It’s not that Keith isn’t allowed to, or something. It’s just that… he never does. It’s not what they do.
They usually go together. One of them will get tired first, and the other follows. It’s been that way since Keith started it—Lance just adapted.
Keith didn’t explain it at first. Whenever Lance asked, he just said he liked it that way. Then one night, as they were getting ready for bed, Keith admitted he slept better with Lance there.
Lance’s heart warmed. He cried a little.
So when Lance is ready for bed that night and can’t find Keith, he isn’t really worried at first. But the longer he looks, the more confused he gets.
He’s already searched everywhere, and has come up with nothing.
Until he checks their room.
And there he is, buried under the blankets and fast asleep.
Without Lance.
⎯
“Will you be my Valentine?” Lance blurted out.
The curly-haired girl on the playground—the prettiest girl Lance had ever seen—blinked at him in surprise.
Then, she looked him up and down, smirking wickedly. She glanced back at her friends who were trying their hardest not to laugh out loud.
Lance’s stomach sank. He tried not to fidget and failed.
The girl snickered, something twisting in her face. Something cruel.
Lance couldn’t understand how a girl so pretty could look so mean.
“As if I would go out with someone like you,” the girl replied finally, tossing her hair over her shoulder and strutting to her friends.
Lance stood there, frozen, as they looked back at him, pointing and giggling.
Lance wished that he were someone else.
⎯
The crowd cheers as they walk by, colors weaving and words blurring together.
Allura leads them, talking amicably with one of the kingdom’s ambassadors. She nods along to whatever the woman is saying, remaining polite and grinning widely. Shiro walks beside her, smiling at everyone around him, waving to as many people as he can.
Hunk and Pidge walk side by side behind the two of them. Pidge seems to fold in on themselves, never having been fond of crowds. They wave awkwardly every now and then and seem to regret it every time. Hunk looks a tiny bit suspicious of his surroundings, but he responds kindly to his fans anyway, accepting some of the food he’s offered even though Allura would scold him for it.
Lance and Keith walk at the back. Keith and Pidge react to crowds very similarly, awkwardly responding only because they have to and dreading it every time. But Keith walks with his shoulders back, appearing more confident than he probably feels.
Lance basks in the attention, milking his heroism in a way that only he can do. It feels strange acting so happy after the days he’s spent on the castle wallowing. He thinks he just likes that he hasn’t let these people down yet.
He transforms his bayard in front of a group of young kids and does some simple moves and slashes before he winks and continues walking. The children cheer and scream and giggle.
Keith takes his hand, squeezing rhythmically.
“I think it’s cool that you’re so good at this,” he says into Lance’s ear.
No, he doesn’t, Lance thinks. He’s just saying that.
He’s overthinking again.
He smiles a little, not sure if he can manage a wide smile without looking like he’s grimacing.
“You think so?” Lance asks, trying to act as if he’s confident. It comes out more pitiful than he would’ve liked.
Please say yes, please tell me I’m cool.
Lance rolls his eyes at himself, feeling pathetic.
He tries to shrug it off. He’s not sure if he succeeds.
“Yeah.” He shrugs, looking back at the group of kids. “You’re good with people.”
Lance smiles and pretends that he believes him.
⎯
“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
The words came from above Lance while he was doing homework on the bus. He looked up in shock, staring at his best friend who was on his knees on the seat in front of him, chin resting on the back.
Lance swallowed down the sting in his throat.
“Why?” Lance asked. “Did I do something?”
“You’re, just, kind of loud,” his (not) best friend’s face scrunched up, as if he was trying to find the right words. “Like, I don’t want to say annoying, but, yeah.”
Swallow.
“Can I make it better?” Lance asked desperately.
His (not) best friend shrugged. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t really want you to. I’m kinda just over you, you know?”
No, he didn’t know.
Swallow, swallow, swallow.
Don’t cry on the bus home, Lance. Don’t.
“Yeah,” Lance’s voice cracked. He winced. “Yeah, I get it.”
The boy smiled, looking relieved. “Good, I’m glad. No hard feelings, though, right?”
Tears sprang into Lance’s eyes.
He begged them to go away.
“Yeah,” he smiled shakily. “Of course.”
Why can’t you be someone else?
⎯
“Lance?”
Lance looks up from his bowl of goo. He’s only taken a couple bites. He meets Hunk’s eyes across the table.
He smiles reassuringly. It feels wrong on his face.
“Yeah, buddy?” Lance responds.
“You okay, dude?” Hunk asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You haven’t said much all dinner. Is something wrong with your goo?”
“Aside from the very obvious flaws?” Lance replies sarcastically, earning a snort from Pidge. “No, nothing’s wrong with it. I’m fine.”
“You would tell us if something was wrong, right?”
Of course not.
“Of course, buddy,” Lance smiles again, forcing down another bite of goo. “Everything’s all good.”
“Yeah, you know Lance,” Pidge teases. “Nothing can bother him. He’d have to care about something other than his skincare before that could happen.”
Ouch.
Everyone laughs.
⎯
“But I don’t understand,” Lance choked out, tears streaming down his face despite the fact that he wished they wouldn’t. Around them, people talk and laugh and eat and everything is good for them.
“You don’t need to understand,” his girlfriend said, packing her keys and sunglasses into her purse, refusing to look at him. “There’s nothing to understand. I just don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore.”
“But why? What did I do?” Lance asked, voice loud over the noise.
“You’re just too much, Lance,” she huffed, chair scraping against the floor as she stands. “You just expect too much from me and I can’t handle that right now. It’s just too serious, too fast, I can’t handle it.”
“I can go slower,” Lance begged, looking at her and wanting her to stay so badly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’ll go slower.”
“No, Lance,” she sighed sympathetically. “It’s over.”
She walked out of the restaurant as if it were just another day.
⎯
Loud—
Too much—
Obnoxious—
You’re too much—
Annoying—
You’re too much, Lance—
Silently, Lance begged Keith not to see what everyone else saw, what he’s seen all his life.
Lance has always hoped no one else would ever see.
He cries himself to sleep more often than not lately.
He’s started to convince himself that Keith sees more than he wants him to.
⎯
Lance has been spending all his time in Blue’s hangar lately. It’s the only place he’s safe from himself.
When he’s with his friends, he can’t bring himself to speak or perform. He’s started to feel empty, unlike himself. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hunk will make him special food, and he’ll just smile and force it down. Pidge will try joking with him, and he’ll try not to visibly flinch. It’s starting to raise some major red flags.
Who is he if he’s not joking around, right? He knows his friends are starting to worry, so he’s been avoiding them as much as he can, even going out of his way to make sure they don’t pass in the halls.
And when he’s with Keith—
God, when he’s with Keith, that’s when it gets worse. So bad, sometimes Lance wants to scream.
He didn’t kiss me at all today.
Did he make a weird face when he told me he loved me?
He didn’t want to cuddle with me last night.
Lance just can’t stop it—can’t stop the doubts and insecurities. He analyzes Keith’s every move, every word, every breath. Something that says ‘I’m tired of you’, or ‘I’m falling out of love with you’.
Something, anything.
He feels like he’s going insane.
Everywhere he looks, he’s reminded that he is insignificant, temporary. At dinner, he wonders if his friends are tired of him yet. In Voltron, he wonders if his team wants a better Blue Paladin.
At night, when his boyfriend sleeps next to him, he wonders when Keith will be ready to end it. He’s tired of waiting. He just wants it to happen already so he can stop thinking about it.
Lance doesn’t remember ever feeling this way, so unimportant.
Every time he speaks, he feels obnoxious.
Every time he makes a mistake, he feels nauseous.
Every time his friends look concerned, he feels guilty.
Every time Keith doesn’t ask him if he’s okay, he feels worse.
He knows that’s not fair—wanting someone to check in so you feel the slightest bit cared about.
But he can’t stop.
He just can’t stop.
When he’s around Blue, he can be completely silent. She doesn’t expect anything from him. She’ll soothe him when he spirals and indulge him when he speaks—which isn’t very often anymore. He appreciates every second of it.
He doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have that sanctuary.
He’s ready for the other shoe to drop.
⎯
“Lance!” Keith shrieks, deflecting another blow. “What are you doing?”
“Um, training?” Lance responds from the other side of the training room, chasing down a drone. “Just like you?”
“Yeah, but the difference is that I’m taking it seriously,” Keith scoffs, sending his sword through the bot.
Lance scoffs. “So am I!”
Which he is. He’s trying as hard as he can, wishing he could get out of his own head for a few minutes. He’s failing, though, and he knows it.
“Then why is it that we’re all picking up your slack?” Keith snaps.
Lance stops short, stomach crawling up his throat.
Everything falls quiet, though he’s unsure if the team actually stops fighting or if he just can’t hear them.
He—
He couldn’t have meant it like that, right? Keith loves him.
Then why does it sound like he doesn’t anymore?
Swallow—
“Lance, I—” Keith starts, unsure what to say.
Don’t cry.
“It’s fine.” Lance smiles shakily. “I’m fine. I think I’m done for the day.”
Swallow swallow—
Lance starts to walk away.
Keith lets him.
Don’t cry.
“Lance,” Keith shouts, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lance waves over his shoulder as he strolls casually out of the training room.
He’s alone in the hallway. No one follows him.
He wills away the tears, but they don’t go. He tries to even his breathing, but it doesn’t work. He tries to get it together, but he just can’t.
Keith loves him. He does.
Though, when Lance thinks about it—really takes the time to consider it—he’s not so sure. At one point, he could’ve convinced himself that Keith had his reasons for what he says and what he does and that nothing has changed. But that’s all it was. Convincing himself, trying to believe that Keith still loved him.
Lance isn’t sure if he does anymore.
He doesn’t know if he’s believed Keith has loved him in a long time.
His stomach drops, tears trailing down his face despite how much he doesn’t want them to. It doesn’t matter what he wants.
It doesn’t matter that he loves Keith. If Keith doesn’t love him anymore, then that’s it.
It’s over. It’s going to be over.
He can’t stop it now. He runs.
He just can’t banish the thought anymore. He can’t reason with himself or push it away. His relationship is going to be over, and it’s going to be his fault.
Again.
Dammit, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Keith. He thought that’s what Keith wanted too. That all the times Keith waited for him, laughed with him, validated him, that’s what Keith wanted.
Maybe he does—
No. If that’s what Keith wanted, where is he now? Where has he been?
It’s happening again.
Blue greets him with a concerned grumble when he bursts into her hangar. She cares for him, he knows she does. She doesn’t want him thinking like this, believing these things. She tries to remind him of all of the things that Keith has done for him.
He falls to his knees and starts to sob.
He wanted that to be forever.
Keith is going to leave him.
He’s going to—
Tears stream down his face as he gasps for breath, tugging on his hair.
He doesn’t want that. He’s so scared of it, and he can’t breathe. The thought claws at his chest, takes away his oxygen, leaves him with nothing. No hope, no air, nothing.
Keith is going to leave. That’s all there is to it.
Blue seems to whine, waves of concern filtering through their bond. She tries to calm him, tries to reassure him, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t hear her.
Keith is going to leave him.
But what if—?
No. He should’ve known.
Tears soak his clothes, but he just can’t stop. His vision is starting to become gray, but that doesn’t change anything. His armor clings to his body, pushing down on his chest, tearing at his throat. His skin burns. He needs it to come off.
Keith is going to—
Oh, God, he’s suffocating.
His armor is stripped away with trembling hands, dropping to the floor noisily. He can barely hear it. He doesn’t know where it all ends up. He just lies there, trapped inside of his body, letting his breath escape him and leave leave leave—
He doesn’t want it to happen again, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing.
It’s going to be over soon.
⎯
“Then why is it we’re all picking up your slack?”
Keith knows the moment it leaves his mouth that he’s made a mistake.
He watches in horror as Lance freezes, his face contorting and twisting in too many emotions to keep track of.
The only expression Keith can decipher is unadulterated hurt, before his face becomes unnaturally blank.
Nice going, he thinks resentfully.
Keith’s stomach drops to his feet, hating that expression on his boyfriend more than he hates anything in the world. He has to fix it.
But he doesn’t know how. Not with the entire team staring at them, waiting for the tension to break.
Keith hurt Lance. He knows that he just added insult to injury. He feels terrible for it.
“Lance, I—”
Keith trails off, unsure of what to say, but needing to say something. Anything to stop the way Lance is looking at him so carefully, so neutrally. Keith would rather Lance scream at him, argue with him, something other than leaving Keith in the dark again.
Keith would be stupid if he hadn’t noticed the change in Lance over the past couple of weeks.
He thought maybe Lance just needed space, that he would come to Keith when he’s ready. But the more time goes on, the worse it seems to get. Keith doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s unused to Lance not saying how he feels.
“It’s fine,” Lance interrupts immediately. Keith thinks he sees him swallow. “It’s fine. I think I’m done for the day.”
But it’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine.
Keith is so tired of that sentence. He’s tired of it leaving Lance’s mouth.
He wants the truth, more than anything.
Lance starts to walk away, and Keith panics.
“Lance! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” Keith blurts desperately, but Lance doesn’t even look back.
He just waves over his shoulder and says, “don’t worry about it.”
And then he’s gone.
Keith snorts bitterly. As if he wouldn’t worry.
He steps forward, reaching for the door. He wants to help, he at least wants to try. He doesn’t want Lance to be alone again after spending so much time away from the team. But just as he’s reaching the door, Shiro grabs his shoulder.
“Shiro,” Keith scowls, tugging on his hold but he doesn’t budge. “Let me go.”
“You should give him space right now,” Shiro suggests, eyes soft. “To cool down.”
“No,” Keith says before he can even finish. “I’m always giving him space. I’m tired of it. He’s hurting and I want to fucking know why.”
Shiro isn’t going to give it up, despite the sympathetic look he gives Keith.
“You’re not gonna figure it out while he’s so upset. Give him time.”
“He’s been upset, Shiro,” Keith argues. “We all know it.” He throws an arm out to gesture at his team.
“Not as upset as this,” Shiro responds calmly.
“You don’t know that. None of us know how upset he’s been.”
He glances around at his team.
Allura looks just as composed as she usually does, but she’s tapping her fingers on her thighs anxiously. Pidge seems to be trying to school their expressions, too, but they aren’t as good at it as Allura is and Keith can tell they’re worried.
Hunk looks the worst.
He’s the most visibly distraught, combing his fingers through his hair and tugging on the ends, trying desperately to stand still and failing. Though, underneath the guilt and fear, Keith catches a glimpse of something. The same certainty he has when he engineers or cooks.
Hunk has never been good at keeping secrets.
“Hunk?”
He looks at Keith suddenly, locking eyes and standing very still.
“Yeah, buddy?” he replies nervously.
“Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Hunk remains very quiet for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as he considers. Then, he shrugs.
“Maybe?” Hunk answers finally. “I don’t know. I don’t want to assume until I ask him.”
Keith waits for elaboration but it doesn’t come.
“Well?” he huffs. “What is it?”
Hunk raises his hands appeasingly. “That’s Lance’s thing. He should be the one to tell you.”
Keith groans, loudly and for an unnecessarily long time.
“But he isn’t telling me,” Keith gestures wildly. “He won’t tell me.”
He deflates, wishing he could do something that would make it better. He wishes he knew what would make it better.
Shiro squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.
“Just give him time.”
⎯
“Paladins! We have received a distress signal from a nearby planet, please report to your lions!”
Keith jolts up, leaping out of bed before he’s fully awake. He dresses himself with practiced precision, flying out the door as soon as he’s ready.
But something is off. He looks around, into his room, down the hallway.
Lance isn’t there.
He didn’t come to bed last night.
Keith huffs and heads to his hangar, his mind made up. He’s going to figure out what’s wrong after this mission. He’s done waiting.
⎯
There’s more ships than they were expecting, way too many to keep track of. They keep slipping past the team’s defenses and breaking through the planet's atmosphere before anyone notices. They had hoped that they wouldn’t have to form Voltron, but that’s the only option they have.
Keith can feel his team in his mind—their emotions, their drive. It mixes with his own, feeds his adrenaline.
He can feel Shiro’s calmness, his confidence. His absolute faith that they will win, that this is what they were made to do. He uses it to find peace in the moments when he gets frustrated. Shiro is his anchor, keeping him tethered so he doesn’t slip too far away, into himself.
He can feel Pidge’s resentment and certainty. Their need to avenge their father, their brother, all of the people the Galra have hurt. It reminds Keith why he should keep fighting when he feels hopeless.
Keith can feel Hunk’s kindness and protectiveness. His never-ending love for his team and his friends. His worry over their well-being and his happiness when they succeed without injury. It reminds Keith of the relationships he has now, his own contentment when he’s in battle.
And usually, he feels Lance’s lightheartedness and focus. Lance has a way of being playful and mature simultaneously when they’re in battle, and it’s astounding every time. When everyone else slips, he’s the one that keeps them together.
But, today Keith doesn’t feel that from him. He feels the doubts, the darkness, the need to disappear into Voltron and let everything else go, the frail concentration that can slip at any moment.
It worries Keith, of course. But he can’t address it in battle. He has to pull through.
This is the only thing in the world to him—nothing else exists. Just Voltron, just fighting, just keeping people safe. That’s all he is right now. He can be the concerned boyfriend later.
He lets his hands move over the controls without thinking, muscle memory guiding him through the motions. He feels in their bond what he needs to do and he does it before he can consider. What he can’t see, his team sees, and vice versa. It’s one of the most intricate kinds of trust he’s ever experienced.
Through the bond, he can feel his teammate’s individual successes, and their shortcomings. He becomes in-tune with them in a way he wouldn’t be if this were a regular war.
So he knows when Lance is supposed to pull up, and when he doesn’t. He missed his cue, and took a hit. Which is fine, Hunk picks up the slack.
But then the feeling slams into him, and his hands slip on the controls.
His breath catches.
His stomach drops.
The overwhelming need to apologize, to hide away, to change, to be someone else—
Shame. So much of it. Mortification and loathing so intense it almost brings tears to his eyes.
He knows without a doubt who it’s coming from. Everything else falls away.
His boyfriend is in pain. His heart breaks.
“Lance…” Hunk whispers, voice cracking.
The feeling pulls back so suddenly, Keith doesn’t know what to do with himself.
The person he loves is shutting him out again.
“It’s fine,” Lance responds bluntly. “I’m fine.”
No, he’s not. He’s lying, and they all know it now.
Keith is so fucking done.
⎯
It’s a long battle, and everyone is exhausted by the time it’s over.
That doesn’t stop Keith from marching to Blue’s hangar as soon as he can.
When he gets there, Blue’s mouth is open but Lance is nowhere in sight. Keith looks around, furrows his eyebrows, and walks slowly up the ramp, as if he might be chewed up and spit out.
When he reaches the cockpit, Lance sits motionless in his chair, chin resting on his knee. He doesn’t seem surprised when Keith makes himself known. Just resigned. Sad.
Waiting. But for what, Keith doesn’t know.
Lance sighs softly, burying his face in his knees. “Just say it,” he says quietly.
Keith isn’t sure what Lance is expecting, but he takes a stab at it anyway.
“We need to talk,” Keith starts, leaning against the dash, right in front of Lance.
He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t respond, even after Keith waits a moment.
He continues. “Something’s been up with you. I don’t know what it is but I want to help.” Keith says hesitantly. “If you’ll tell me what’s going on.”
Lance is quiet for a moment before he looks up. The expression on his face makes Keith freeze, tense in all the worst places.
It isn’t sadness, or fondness, or even confusion. It’s anger, bitterness, the harsh glare Lance sends him sharp enough to cut glass.
Somewhere along the way, Keith must’ve fucked up bad. He feels terrible.
“Why do you care?” Lance practically spits, sitting up straight.
And even though Keith really wants to make it up to Lance, he can’t help but be confused.
“Why wouldn’t I care? I care about you.”
Lance shakes his head harshly, biting his lip as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to. His eyes glisten in the light, he squeezes them shut.
Keith’s heart aches. “Lance? Please talk to me.”
Lance scoffs, rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to pretend you care about me anymore. I know how you feel.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Keith asks, bewildered and a little exasperated. “Of course I care about you. Why else would I be with you?”
“Maybe you did at some point,” Lance tells him, looking him in the eye now. His eyes are red, tears shining in the corners. Keith watches as his lip trembles, as he bites back sobs. “But you don’t have to lie and tell me you still do.”
Keith can’t help getting a little annoyed, but he tries to push it away. “Lance, I’m not lying. I’m standing here, telling you that I love you. What else do you want?”
Lance shakes his head again. “I just don’t believe you.”
“But why?”
Lance shrugs. “I just don’t, okay?”
Keith huffs, crossing his arms. “I can’t help if you don’t let me.”
“I don’t want you to help,” Lance stands up, face to face with Keith now. “I want you to get it over with and break up with me.”
Keith gapes at him, heart breaking.
“Do you want to break up?” His voice breaks, and he doesn’t even care. “Is this how you’re breaking up with me?”
“What—No,” Lance runs his hand through his hair, eyes scrunching up even though a few tears have already fallen. He swallows. “No, I don’t want to break up. I love you. But it’s obvious you don’t love me.”
“But I do—” Keith tries to say.
“No, you don’t,” Lance interrupts quietly, fists clenched. “Don’t tell me that.”
“What do you want me to tell you?” His voice rises and fills out the cockpit. “That I don’t love you? That I’ve been wanting to break up with you for weeks? I don’t want any of that!”
“Stop saying that!” Lance shouts back, tears streaming down his face. “I’m giving you an opening right now, take it and leave. I know you want to. That’s just the way it is. Everyone always wants to. So get it over with and do it. Please,” Lance gasps, sniffing and wiping his face aggressively. “Just do it. I’m so tired of waiting.”
And as Lance stands there, shouting and sobbing and broken, Keith realizes that this isn’t about him at all. This isn’t about anything he’s done, and there will never be an easy way to fix it. This is about something else entirely, something fragile and raw and ugly.
Before Keith can think about it, he steps forward and pulls Lance in. Keith wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back through his clothes just like Lance does, and just lets him cry.
Because devastatingly, Keith is realizing that the person he loves doesn’t feel loved by him. That, to him, feeling loved is rare, and apparently doesn’t last. That for God knows how long, Lance has been convincing himself that that’s the way this relationship will end.
Lance couldn’t be more wrong. Keith wants to spend the rest of his life with him. But first he has to fix this. He wishes he knew how.
Lance sobs into his shoulder. “Don’t do this, Keith, please don’t do this. Don’t make me feel better. Please, just let it end, please.”
Keith just holds him tighter.
⎯
Lance cries for a long time. Keith stays through the whole thing, rubbing his back, letting him cry, muttering little assurances now and then.
When the worst of it has passed, and Lance is just a shaky, tearful mess, Keith picks him up and carries him to their room.
Lance doesn’t protest, just sniffs softly and rests his head in the nook of Keith’s shoulder. When they reach the door, his breaths have evened out and he isn’t trembling as much.
Keith sets him down on the bed, carefully removing his armor, then his body suit. Lance just lets him do it, staring down at the palms of his hands. When he’s left in just his boxers, Keith retrieves a t-shirt for him to sleep in. Then he undresses himself, letting the silence wash over them.
As Keith unzips his body suit, he hears Lance take a deep breath.
“Why did you go to bed without me that night?” he asks softly.
Keith looks at him over his shoulder, eyebrows drawing together. “What?” he inquires.
Lance sighs, toying with the hem of his shirt. “A few nights ago you went to bed without me. Why?”
Keith’s eyes widen, inhaling in realization. He pulls on his own sleep shirt quickly before turning around fully.
“I couldn’t find you,” he explains gently. “I looked for you for a while, but no one knew where you were, so I figured I would wait for you in our room. But I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
Stupid, Keith tells himself, face heating in guilt. He should have apologized when it happened.
He steps forward, running his hands through Lance’s hair in silent apology. The strands slip through his fingers quickly, but Lance hums in contentment.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks after a moment. “You didn’t have to.”
“Because I love you,” Keith shrugs, undoubtedly.
“But,” Lance trails off, unsure of himself. “Why?”
“Because you’re you,” Keith says. “You’re funny and charming. You’re super considerate, especially when it’s about someone you care about. You’re really affectionate, and I’ve always felt so cared about when I’m with you. I think you’re also really dramatic and outgoing, but that’s just who you are and I love that about you because I’m not that way and I like to just—I don’t know. Watch you, I guess.” Keith shrugs, sitting down next to Lance on the bed. “I like seeing the way you make people smile and laugh. It’s actually one of my favorite things about you.”
Lance thinks for a moment, processing. Then he looks up, wary and a tiny bit hopeful.
“People don’t like me for being that way sometimes,” he says quietly.
“They’re all stupid,” Keith says. Then he sighs, taking Lance’s hand, wishing he could express how much he truly cares. “Lance, I— I love you. A lot. You’re probably my favorite person. Which says something because we have some pretty great friends. And I want to make sure you know that, but I don’t know how.”
Lance doesn’t say anything for a long time, looking down at their joined hands. Keith rubs Lance’s knuckles with his thumb, staying quiet while Lance thinks.
“I don’t think you can,” Lance whispers. “I think it’ll just take time.”
Keith nods, squeezes Lance’s hand.
“I can try to make it easier?” Keith suggests. “How can I make it easier for you?”
Lance’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now. Can we just go to bed?”
Keith stands up, kissing Lance on the forehead. Then he shuts off the light by the door and crawls under the covers right beside Lance.
“I love you,” he says softly.
“I love you, too,” Lance replies.
Keith knows it’ll take time. Stuff like this always does. But he knows that he and Lance will be able to handle it together. He isn’t willing to let Lance slip away so easily.