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Valentine's Day is a uniquely human affliction.
After several years, that was Keith's conclusion. Something that he’d noticed about every culture that he had come in contact with during the many missions and stops throughout the universe that team Voltron had made was that they each had their own celebrations. Some had holidays, others had festivals and events based on random occurrences, and still others had entire cycles of feasts and fasts. One tradition that few if any seemed to have was a celebration akin to Valentine's Day.
Keith could hardly blame them.
He had never understood the appeal, himself. Never one much for over the top displays of affection, the desire for cards and candy had never been one he'd felt, and thankfully he had never had someone to worry about pleasing with such worthless trinkets. The people Keith cared for were more than happy being told so, directly, and without ceremony or special circumstance.
Shiro was a different creature, though. He looked forward to returning to something that resembled a normal life, once Voltron was no longer so critically needed. One aspect of that normality was celebrating earthly holidays and traditions again, and though Keith couldn't be sure it was actually Valentine's Day, he knew from the tracking Pidge and Hunk had kept that it was approximately mid-February, back on earth.
And there he was, sitting in an alien excuse for a restaurant, across the table from Shiro and Allura, waiting on a date. How he got talked into letting that happen, he still wasn't a hundred percent sure of. But he was definitely sitting there, having already agreed, waiting on Lance - of all people - to join them and fill the empty seat beside him, on what was most likely Valentine's Day.
It wasn't as if it had come completely out of left field. Keith had been tiptoeing around the idea of spending some time with Lance in a capacity that was somewhere slightly beyond platonic for months. He hadn't actually worked out exactly how to make it happen when the opportunity all but fell into his lap, so he unwittingly took it, and within days he found himself nervously half-spinning on a barstool-like seat.
He had never actually agreed to a date in any certain terms, hadn't asked Lance himself or even spoken the word. It was hardly an idea he had entertained before that week, beyond dreams and vague, wandering thoughts that he tried to keep from meandering too far. So why did he feel so anxious?
Perhaps it was because he hadn't really given himself time to prepare as if this had been a date. Allura was certainly dressed as if she thought it was; wearing her hair neatly tied up and a lovely, flouncy little skirt, she looked every bit Shiro's compliment. Keith shifted nervously in his seat, considering himself.
In a black t-shirt and his otherwise usual attire, he felt very dressed down by comparison - certainly not dressed for a date. Then again, Keith had little to compare it to. He hadn't really been on a date before.
Saving the universe, there wasn't really an opportunity for something like a relationship to blossom. Sure, he'd been wading ever deeper into feelings for Lance in recent weeks, but he hadn't ever really expected anything to come of it. That was probably only because he wouldn't have known how to make anything happen on his own, even if he'd intended to.
He had no idea how Shiro made it look so easy. One hand ghosting over Allura’s shoulders and drawing lazy patterns on her neck while giggled, he had the other on the table, clutching and playing with her fingers like an infatuated teenager. Maybe because that's all either of them were, really; Shiro had little time to date back at the garrison, Keith was certain, and even less between the exploration missions, alien abductions and the defending of the universe. There was finally time to relax, time to live, time to love, and it was probably the first time any of them had taken a crack at it in a while, if ever at all.
Still, it was strange, watching his closest friend fall so fully and freely, to move with such comfort within the confines of something Keith himself was still struggling just to understand. Shiro was so at ease with Allura beside him, as much if not more than he'd ever been. It was as if he hadn't had to make concession for her presence there at all, but had rather become even more the person he was supposed to be, with her there to compliment him.
Love looked so good on Shiro, so natural.
Keith sucked in a sharp, deep breath as he watched Shiro and Allura exchange smiles. It looked like they were in a world all their own. He hoped that when Lance arrived, there would be more conversation, and less of a feeling of him crowding the two of them. When Lance did show up, though, he'd be forced to confront the very different way he and Shiro were handling the same situation, and just how inferior it was making him feel.
It wasn't as if Keith had never felt love of any sort. Once upon a time, he'd had a family, at least in some sense of the word. Later there was Shiro, the brother he'd never been lucky enough to be born beside, and the other paladins and even the Alteans, the friends he counted as family, now. Keith loved every one of them, in myriad ways. Lance, though - Lance was altogether different.
Never in his strangest dreams could Keith have foreseen growing so inexplicably fond of Lance McClain, and perhaps that was what made his heart so vulnerable in the first place. For many months, Keith had felt more and more drawn to him, protective and worrisome over him in ways he hadn't been before, and ever more in search of his company. There was rarely a day that passed that the two of them weren't together, and though it had been that way since they'd left earth in the blue lion, it was becoming more of a pleasant reality for Keith. He wanted Lance around. He liked things about Lance he couldn't understand his own affinity for.
The truth of how he felt about Lance had become inescapable, unavoidable no matter how little he thought about it. Keith was falling in love.
That was why he was there that night, after all. After weeks of dancing around the idea, he'd finally accepted an invitation from Shiro to join him, Allura and Lance on what could only be seen as a double date. A date, in the not-at-all platonic sense.
There was no way for Keith to side step the concept, no matter how quick he was on his feet when it came to talk of feelings.
He was there, sitting across the table from a happy couple in an alien restaurant that looked strangely like a cozy, little diner, and it was because he had chosen to be. Keith wanted to be there. At least in some sense.
Why, then, did he feel so strange? Why did he feel like his insides were boiling, the steam from which pouring from the skin of his cheeks, neck and ears as he felt them grow hot. Lance wasn't even there yet, and there Keith sat, bordering on blushing, just from thinking about spending an evening sitting beside him.
For the briefest moment, Keith considered leaving. There were a million excuses he could have contrived, most of which Shiro would have taken him for his word about, at least for the time being. By the time he had a chance to begin filing through them in his mind, though, Shiro brightened and waved somewhere over Keith's shoulder, and he turned to see Lance approaching.
A thousand thoughts warred for Keith's focus at once, but he swallowed all of them and opted for silence as he waved to match Shiro. Lance was at his side in the blink of an eye, hopping onto and spinning around on the empty stool in one move. Keith flashed him his best attempt at a smile and turned back to look at Shiro and Allura.
He hoped the foolish panic that he felt was not evident on his face. Judging by the smugness on Allura’s, though - and the barely contained amusement obvious in Shiro’s expression - his hope was quickly snuffed out. Maybe Lance wouldn't notice. Maybe things would turn out fine.
Maybe Keith could feign food poisoning and leave, if they didn't.
Across the table, Allura did everyone the favor of prompting conversation.
“So Lance, what kept you?” She kicked him playfully beneath the table, and Keith was once again sharply reminded of just how long it had been since any of them had gotten the chance to be so carefree. And there he was, wasting it worrying.
“You're lucky we didn't order without you,” Allura continued, smiling at Lance. “If you'd have been much longer we just might have, and you'd have been stuck with cold food.”
Lance shrugged. “Princess, the only real tragedy would have been if you'd ordered for me. No offense, but space cuisine is sketchy at best.”
“So you agreed to come because…?” Shiro wondered aloud, chuckling. Lance glanced in Keith's direction, pulling a smirk.
“The company, mostly.”
Keith thought to laugh or smile in response - had every intention to do so - and instead sat, frozen in place. Frozen, except for his face, which felt more like it had been lit on fire.
Conversation continued without him for a moment, while he watched and listened, numb with panic. Why was he just sitting there? Never in his life had he sat back and let things happen to him without a say in them, and yet he could hardly find his voice to speak. Perhaps it was because feelings were involved, and as skilled as he was in nearly every other way, Keith was still terrible at dealing with emotions. He was so removed from the moment that he barely felt Lance sidle up closer, scooting up onto his stool properly so his elbows grazed Keith's arm and side with every move.
No one else seemed uncomfortable. No one else at the table was in an anxious spiral. Lance was Keith’s date, although neither of them had actually confirmed that fact, so far, and yet he seemed as relaxed as ever. What the hell was Keith's problem?
Across from him, Shiro continued chatting with Lance, laughter punctuating their sentences frequently. He still had one hand on Allura's back, the other still toying with her fingers on the table. Allura herself seemed to notice Keith's glances their way, and used her eyes to direct Keith's view back toward his date. Looking back at Lance, Keith's breath caught.
Lance was sitting so that he was nearly facing Keith entirely, save for his outermost arm, which he had used to anchor himself in the conversation with Shiro. There was never a time that Lance didn't talk with his hands, but his gestures seemed muted then, his hand unusually low to the table. His other arm swung free, like he was waiting for an invite to put it somewhere. Keith glanced back at Allura in a wordless request for advice.
“But yeah, that's why I was late,” Lance said, his voice cutting into Keith's consciousness and snatching Allura's attention before he could get it. Keith had no idea what explanation Lance had been giving, but he felt far too anxious to ask. Lance kept talking, seemingly unaware.
“Worst timing ever, honestly. But I wasn't about to leave you guys hanging, don't worry.” With that, he laid a hand on the small of Keith's back, like it was the most natural place in the universe for it to be. Keith tried not to jump, tried to pretend he was as comfortable as Lance seemed to be. No longer trusting his own face not to betray him, he clamped a gloved hand over his mouth and leaned into it, propping himself on the table in front of him and fixing his eyes on Lance's moving hand, as a distraction.
It should be so simple, he thought, squeezing his own bent arm. Just drop his hand over Lance's and let it rest there. Hold his hand. It could be so easy, just like it was for Shiro and Allura. So natural.
Except it wasn't. Keith wasn't Shiro, and he certainly wasn't about to make so bold a move as to hold Lance's hand when he hadn't even actually heard the word ‘date’ from the guy’s own mouth in the entire week they'd been planning that evening out. What if this wasn't a date, but just a friendly outing, in Lance's eyes? What if Lance just laid hands on anyone's back that he sat close enough to?
Like every time he made plans only to swallow them in the face of opportunity, Lance was his weakness. Lance somehow tempered his usual lack of forethought. In him, Lance created caution, the only force in the universe that had ever achieved that task.
Keith was burning with embarrassment, with the frustration of knowing he'd once been asked to lead the strongest, most important team of intergalactic weaponry and legendary fighter pilots in the known universe, and yet he couldn't even hold someone's hand without having a meltdown over it. Keith was fairly certain things couldn't get worse, and just as sure that they weren't going to get any better.
Then, very much to Keith's surprise, they suddenly did just that.
Without so much as a pause in conversation, Lance slid his hand across the table, nudging his knuckles against Keith's folded arm. On reflex, Keith loosed his grip, freeing that hand that wasn't clamped over his mouth, just enough that Lance could take hold of it. He did, and he held it, and only then did Keith realize Lance was watching him, smiling.
“This okay?” he asked, and the shit-eating grin he said it with might have been too much like his usual self for Keith to be put at ease, save for what he said next. “Figured since this is a date, I’d be less likely to get stabbed for making a move. Valentine's Day, and all.”
There it was - the word that had been tormenting Keith all evening. It sounded so straightforward in Lance's voice, so carefree and natural. Keith twisted his mouth to one side, trying to look something other than a strange mix of giddy and relieved. Lance bumped their shoulders together, moving the hand that rested on Keith's back around to the other side of his waist, pulling them close together, leaving his arm there to hold him.
“Exactly how many times have you considered making a move, before?” Keith asked, his voice slowly returning. All at once it was if he could breathe again. Lance snorted, sounding a note less confident than he had only seconds before.
“Several? Since… I don't know, a while now, I guess. Sorry I like the guy I'm on a date with right now. Didn't know that was a crime.”
“Hey, I never said you were the only one,” Keith said quickly, and the way Lance's sharp grin split his face made his chest feel warm and far too full. “Just kinda thought I was the only one.”
“Which is why Shiro and I took the liberty of doing the asking for you,” Allura chimed in, and the jolt it gave to both of them made it obvious that both Keith and Lance had forgotten that they weren't alone, at least for a moment. Allura laughed. “Seems like we made a sound decision.”
They gave her matching, mildly embarrassed eye rolls, but couldn't help joining her and Shiro in laughter the very next moment.
The rest of the evening was light years’ difference from what it's opening had been. Keith enjoyed himself, laughed and smiled and leaned into Lance's touches, simply because he knew that he could. Whereas hours before, he had feared the unknown water’s edge, by the time dessert landed on their table, he was content, floating at its deepest point.
He let Lance hold his hand, let him run fingers leisurely up and down his side. Lance's thumb stroked over the backs of Keith's knuckles, toying with the edges of his gloves. It was a comforting feeling, reassuring in a way that Keith would have never expected it to be. He returned it, marveling at the feeling of Lance's smooth, soft skin under the calloused pads of his own fingertips - and at the sheer fact that he was allowed to have this.
When they finished their meal and conversation dwindled, Allura left with Shiro, off to see more of how earthlings celebrated Valentine's Day, leaving Keith and Lance to linger together. The two of them wandered the flat walkway that ringed the restaurant, barely talking, hand in hand. Somehow, it was anything but awkward.
“Sorry if I come on a little strong,” Lance said, wiggling his fingers where they were laced with Keith's. “I know you're not really a touchy-feely person. S’just how I am with, uh… With people I like.”
“It's okay,” Keith shrugged, trying not to smile like a complete moron at the words Lance had just said. He failed spectacularly, but Lance going slightly pink at the tips of his ears as he smirked in response made it more than okay that Keith couldn't stop grinning as he spoke. “For some reason it's… It's not bad, with you. It's kinda… I like it, actually.”
Lance laughed, squeezing Keith's hand. “Oho, Keith likes me.” He did everything he could to make his voice sound taunting, but there was little he could do in that moment that wouldn't have been endearing to Keith.
Yeah, I do, Keith thought to himself. I like you - I might even love you - and it feels completely natural.
They rounded the corner of the walkway for what might have been the fifth time that evening, with nowhere concrete to go. Just a hand to hold, a single date under their collective belt, and a universe of possibilities ahead of them. Keith was unafraid, unashamed of his own happiness, and everything was exactly as it should have been.
For once, he was truly thankful for a silly, human holiday like Valentine's Day.