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They didn’t get to visit Earth all that often. As it would turn out, being a defender of the universe felt about the same now as it did twenty years ago, and that meant Lance and Keith’s time was never truly their own. This brief respite, and escape to their home planet, came at a difficult time for the Blue Paladin. As much as Lance longed for a chance to set foot on Earth again, the reason for their visit was not a happy one.
Keith sat beside Lance in the backseat of a car. His partner was staring out the window at the swirling clouds providing intermittent shade over their motorcade, but Keith was watching Lance’s face. It was easy to identify deep sorrow in the firm set of Lance’s jaw and the way his eyes narrowed, void of their usual jovial glint. Keith hated seeing him like this but even worse was his hatred at not being able to do anything about it. As difficult as this trip would be for Lance, Keith knew it wasn’t going to be easy for him, either. Over the years, a few interstellar treks, and many video conversations, Keith had grown close to Lance’s family; Lance’s mom was the closest thing Keith had to a mother of his own, and he felt her loss deeply.
Keith set his hand on Lance’s thigh and gave him a gentle squeeze. Lance sighed at the contact but didn’t break his gaze away from the window. He covered Keith’s hand with his own, their fingers laced together effortlessly, and squeezed back. Keith got the feeling that Lance was trying very hard not to meet his eyes and Keith didn’t push.
“We’ll be arriving shortly,” came a voice from the driver’s seat.
“Okay,” Keith replied, still not looking away from Lance, whose eyes were now shut tightly.
Keith felt rather than saw the car turn and the road was rougher now. The car jostled back and forth on the gravel drive and Lance squeezed Keith’s hand harder still. Finally, as the car slowed to a stop, Lance opened his eyes and met Keith’s, looking unsurprised to find he was being watched. The pair was long past the point in their relationship where the revelation that Keith had spent the past fifteen minutes staring at Lance would be a source of embarrassment or awkwardness. Instead, Lance leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his partner’s lips before leaning back once more. The absence of the engine noise and the scraping of gravel beneath tires left a deafening silence, pressing in on them as Keith steeled himself for the next few days.
“Thank you,” Lance said, silence broken by his quiet words.
Keith raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
Another squeeze to his hand. “For being here. For coming with me.”
Keith reached up to hold Lance’s face with a gentle hand, pulled him forward slightly until their foreheads touched. “Always,” he said softly with a kiss to Lance’s cheek. “Ready?”
“No,” Lance replied, but he leaned back anyway, only now letting go of Keith’s hand to push open the car door.
The humidity hit Keith first. It felt like being smothered with a blanket of thick, damp air that threatened to suffocate him rather than fill his lungs. Lance explained that they were arriving during the end of Cuba’s annual hurricane season and warned him that the humidity would be ridiculous. Keith allowed himself a small smile, remembering Lance’s comments on how hard it would be to maintain his - what had he called it? - glorious locks. He was right, as he usually was.
Lance was waiting outside the car door and Keith walked around the trunk of the car to join him, getting a good look at Lance’s childhood home ahead of them. It was just as beautiful and bright as Keith remembered from their last visit. The wide, open porch, the tiled roof, the shuttered windows all thrown open - everything was the same, like a photo preserved through time. His chest tightened when he realized that on this visit, and on all future visits, he would not be greeted by his favorite person on the entire planet. Lance seemed to sense Keith’s change in mood and took his hand, this time Lance offering the squeeze of reassurance. Keith cleared his throat, unable to clear the lump forming there.
They were barely climbing the front steps when they were greeted by Lance’s older brother, Richard, who quickly wrapped Lance in a hug. Lance buried his face into his brother’s shoulder, and Keith ducked his head. He knew it wasn’t intrusive for him to be there, but the moment felt intimate and Keith wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was saved by the arrival of Lance’s little sister, Daniela, who offered him a warm hug of his own. Keith held onto her tightly, grateful for her greeting. When Keith pulled back, he saw that Lance had done the same, both he and Richard’s eyes now red. Daniela tossed her arms around Lance’s neck, and Keith reached over to shake Richard’s extended hand, a kind smile passed between them.
The rest of the morning passed without much fanfare. Lance and his siblings spent most of the day catching up and finalizing plans for the next few days. Keith chimed in where he could, mostly to help Lance recount details from their past missions, but mostly he was just there. When Lance’s mug was empty, he brewed a fresh pot of coffee. When it came time for lunch, Keith disappeared into the kitchen long enough to return with a plate of sandwiches. When Lance fell silent at a shared memory of his mother, Keith was there to take Lance’s hand in his. When Lance wanted a distraction, Keith recalled some old story of theirs and watched Lance soften, laughing and remembering all of their misadventures along with him. Keith liked when Lance laughed. He liked to watch the crinkles form in the corners of Lance’s eyes, liked to wonder how many millions of times Lance had laughed in his life.
They were joined by other members of Lance’s family throughout the day as more people continued to arrive. Quite a few of Lance’s close family were staying in the house; there were plenty of beds available and many were traveling from a great distance. Keith got to meet a few of Lance’s cousins, and with the arrival of Richard’s wife they both got to meet Lance’s niece, now five, who hadn’t been born yet the last time they were here. Lance’s father emerged after dinner and Lance sat alone with him for a long while in the adjacent room, both of them talking quietly. Then, he was gone, and Lance returned to him looking solemn. Lance’s father had never been one for conversation, which made Keith wonder what words were exchanged between father and son.
As night fell, the house grew quiet, and soon it was time to retire. Lance led Keith to the room they were sharing for the visit. He stumbled over his feet once or twice, and Keith was only now noticing how exhausted Lance was. It had been a long day; less than twenty-four hours ago, Keith and Lance were boarding a shuttle galaxies away, preparing for a wormhole jump. After arriving at the Garrison in the United States, a plane ride, and then a long car ride, they still spent the entire day awake and functioning. Away from his siblings, away from the responsibilities of helping plan his mother’s funeral, Lance didn’t have to put up any walls anymore. He didn’t have to pretend he was feeling fine, not in front of Keith.
Keith slipped a supportive arm around Lance’s waist and felt Lance lean against him immediately, head settling on Keith’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to Lance’s head as they walked down the hall, eventually reaching their room. Keith eased Lance down onto the bed where he sat, still upright, and started to pull off his shirt for bed. He watched Lance for a moment, then knelt down beside him and helped Lance pull off his shoes.
“Thanks,” Lance murmured, smirking a little. “You’ve been doing that all day. Bringing me shit. Cooking.”
Keith smiled up at him. “Just taking care of you,” he replied easily. “Is that not allowed?”
Lance chuckled and leaned back onto the bed and out of Keith’s sight. Keith stood, finally matching Lance’s smirk as he saw him already falling asleep with his jeans still on. Keith took a few minutes to himself, easing into the rhythm of preparing for bed. Normally Lance had an even more involved routine than Keith did which he would be annoyed at missing, but tonight Keith let him stay sprawled sideways and still half-clothed on the bed instead of rousing him to wash up. The windows to their room were open, and with the absence of the sun the night had turned pleasantly cool. A light breeze wafted in, shifting the curtains slightly. Keith decided to sleep in a t-shirt and shorts, changed quickly, and was packing away his toothbrush by the time Lance’s soft snores filled the room.
“Hey,” Keith said softly, brushing the hair from Lance’s face. “You hate sleeping in your jeans. Help me.”
Lance stirred, awake enough now to lift his hips as Keith pulled of his jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor.
“C’mon, I gotta fit in there, too,” Keith teased, and Lance pulled himself sleepily up to the pillows at the head of the bed. One last thing - the lights - and Keith was crawling in next to Lance.
Lance rolled over as Keith settled beside him, and Keith was surprised to see Lance’s eyes wide open, searching for his in the darkness.
“Keith?”
“Mm?”
There was silence, but Keith still didn’t push. He knew Lance and Lance would talk when he was ready. Keith propped his head up on his hand and used the other to push Lance’s hair back again. It was getting long - almost as long as Keith’s - and he decided to ask Lance in the morning if he wanted a trim. Before.
“Can I ask you something?” Lance said finally.
“Of course. What’s on your mind?” Keith asked, but he already knew.
Lance hesitated. He looked away, and Keith stopped playing with Lance’s hair, resting his hand on Lance’s waist instead.
“You can ask. It’s ok,” Keith said quietly.
Lance’s eyes snapped back to his, surprise evident. “Oh. Well. I just…” Lance started. “Does it - does it get any easier?”
Keith sighed, smile falling. “With time, yes. But never completely.”
Lance nodded and Keith knew he’d been expecting that answer.
“I was so young when my dad died,” Keith continued, his voice even. “I didn’t have anyone else - losing him felt like losing my entire world. Like someone had pulled the rug out from under me and I was never going to stop falling.”
Lance had reached out while Keith spoke to grab onto his t-shirt, and Keith wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying not to cry or if he just needed something to hold onto.
“But… eventually, I hit solid ground again. Shiro helped me. And I had the Garrison to focus on, though we all knew how that turned out,” Keith said. Lance smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Eventually it doesn’t feel like you’re drowning every time you breathe. Eventually you feel like a person again. But it doesn’t happen overnight.”
Lance was shaking now, tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut. Keith pulled him in close, strong arms wrapping around him; Lance released his grip on Keith’s shirt to hold him tightly back. Keith set his chin on Lance’s head and just held him though sobs that shook his entire body, sometimes rubbing circles on his back or cradling Lance’s head against his shoulder. It was a while before Lance stopped trembling and Keith realized he was asleep.
***
The next morning, Lance was already in the shower by the time Keith was awake. Neither of them had slept well, and as such they were up much earlier than they had to be. The pair took their time getting ready. Richard had arranged rental suits for them to wear - no real use for those in space - and despite the somber occasion, Keith found it impossible not to admire how the cut of the suit complimented his partner. By midmorning, the family started to congregate in the kitchen. Eggs and toast and bacon passed around and Keith was grateful for something to focus on. Today was the first day of the funeral arrangements for Lance’s mother. There was a viewing planned starting in the afternoon and into the night, finished by a prayer. The actual funeral was tomorrow: a full mass followed by interment and a luncheon at the family house. Lance was raised a Catholic, he revealed when Keith had inquired on the length of the funeral proceedings, and although he didn’t practice faithfully as his mother had, the traditions felt right to Lance. At the very least, the schedule of events was giving Lance something with which to preoccupy his thoughts.
Keith honestly didn’t remember much of the next two days. He was sure he would eventually when he sat down and allowed himself to process his own loss, but for now Lance needed him more. As if it was even possible, Keith found he admired Lance even more after watching him with his family. The man cared so deeply, loved so openly, and Keith sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the only one on the receiving end. Their lives kept Lance away from his family for long stretches of time, especially this last five-year absence. Keith wondered, not for the first time, how much that had hurt Lance over their years as paladins. Even with Lance’s weekly contact with his family through video, the distance must take its toll.
Somehow lost in helping clean up after the luncheon, Keith realized he had not seen Lance in quite some time. He asked after him, and Daniela pointed toward the backyard. Keith peeked through the back window and saw that she was right, and waved his thanks as he made his way outside.
He found Lance sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the two massive mahogany trees in the yard. Between them sat an equally large stump, the last remains of a tree long-since chopped down. Beyond was a large lake, used on happier visits for swimming and relaxing. Strong branches reached out over the water’s edge, a knotted rope swinging lightly in the soft breeze. Lance looked up as Keith approached and shifted over to make room as Keith sat beside him.
“I lost you there for a minute,” Keith said, looking over at Lance, who was back to staring at the stump.
“I needed some air.”
Keith nodded, and a comfortable silence fell between them. Keith only disturbed their quiet when he leaned forward to pull off his suit coat in the heat. Lance settled back against his chest, a hand on Keith’s knee.
“This is my favorite place on the entire planet.”
“Really?”
Lance sat forward and Keith watched the back of Lance’s head as he set his hand on the stump in front of them. He traced the rings with his fingers absently.
“We had to cut down this tree when I was ten. It got knocked over that year in the stormy season,” Lance explained, fingers still following the lines around and around as far as Lance could reach without moving. “I spent my whole childhood climbing these trees, swimming in the lake. I broke my arm on that rope swing because Richard dared me to try and flip before I hit the water. Messed up the timing and let go all wrong.”
Keith laughed at the thought of a small, energetic Lance flying through the air. Lance as a child covered in bruises and bumps from playing outside all day. Lance and his siblings chasing each other through the yard, daring each other to run faster, climb higher.
“My mom would sit right here and watch us,” he said softly, laying his palm flat on the stump. “She would be sewing or reading or doing a crossword, but she was always watching.”
Keith didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t. Then, suddenly, Lance whipped around and looked him straight in the eyes.
“I want to grow old with you.”
The sudden intensity of it caught Keith off-guard. A moment before, Lance was reflective and somber; now, he looked desperate and on the edge of crying.
“Lance, we’re thirty-seven,” he said lightly. Keith wanted to calm him down - it was such a classic Lance move to try and insert humor here. “We’re already old.”
It worked. Lance laughed, a real honest laugh, and he relaxed. Keith looked at him - really looked. They weren’t that old, but they also weren’t the same kids they were then they’d met. Lance had always been the taller of the two, and he’d filled nicely into his broad shoulders. His hair was lighter now, muddy brown mixed with grey around his temples. That same smirk was there, the same dangerous look in his eye when Lance was about to propose something absurd or reckless, but there was also the wisdom of twenty years of fighting and diplomacy and peacemaking. There was the knowledge of language and culture, the sharp, calculating eyes of the best sharpshooter in the damn universe and the skills behind one of its best pilots. There were the scars - none visible now, but all of them long-since memorized. A few small ones on his arms, the remnants of glancing laser fire. A large, jagged one in the center of his chest that Keith wished he could forget. Every part of him was a story - their shared story.
“Where’d you go?” Lance asked, and Keith realized Lance had been looking at him, too. What had he seen?
“We’ve been through a lot, you and I,” Keith said, half-smile on his lips.
“We have.”
“I want to grow old with you, too.”
Lance smiled. He pulled Keith toward him by the tie until Lance could reach him to kiss him. Keith brought his hands up to cradle Lance’s face, his thumbs tracing Lance’s laughter lines as Lance beamed at him.
“I don’t ever want to run out of stories with you,” Lance breathed. “I want to spend our lives together, however much time we’ve got left.”
Keith kissed his nose, earning him another spectacular smile.
“I love you too, Lance.”