#keith is just Awake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

autisticlancemcclain · 4 months

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this is how it continued

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

Lance tries for weeks to make it end.

The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?

And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.

Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.

Lance needs to make it end.

———

He cannot make it end publicly.

It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.

Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.

———

Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”

“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.

“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”

Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.

“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”

She huffs, clearly still miffed.

Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.

A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.

And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.

“You look dreamy.”

Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.

“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”

Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.

“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”

Lance’s mouth goes dry.

I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.

But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.

———

It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)

By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.

“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.

“Good food,” seconds Hunk.

“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.

“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.

Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.

Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.

Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.

What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.

He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.

“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.

“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”

“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”

Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”

He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.

“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”

Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.

Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”

She doesn’t even moo at him.

Lance tries bribery.

“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”

Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.

“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”

“Well, I hope not.”

Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.

“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)

“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).

“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”

Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”

Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”

The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.

“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”

“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”

“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”

“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”

Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.

“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.

“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”

Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?

An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.

Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”

Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.

“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”

Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

———

They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.

“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.

“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.

Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”

“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”

He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.

Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.

Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.

“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”

Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”

Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.

“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”

There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.

“Ready?” Keith asks.

“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.

Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.

“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.

He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.

“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”

Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.

“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”

Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.

“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”

Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”

He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.

Keith makes him feel so warm.

He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.

He wants it so desperately.

He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.

“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.

Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.

———

They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.

Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.

(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)

“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”

“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.

In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.

“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.

“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”

They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.

He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”

Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”

“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.

Lance snorts. Yeah, right.

He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.

Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.

And he starts to cry.

Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.

Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.

Lance is a horrible, horrible person.

This is has to be how it ends.

“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.

“Lance?”

“My brush is — in the wrong place.”

Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”

“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”

He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.

This is how it ends.

“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.

“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”

Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?

“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“Something stupid.”

“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t — I’m not —”

The rest of his strength leaves him.

This is how it ends.

Why can’t he make it end.

Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.

“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.

For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.

A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.

This is how it ends.

He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.

“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”

“For leading you on.”

That certainly gives him pause.

“Leading me…on?”

“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”

“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”

Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.

“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”

He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.

A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.

“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”

Lance swallows.

“Yes.”

Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”

The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”

Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.

“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”

“You mentioned.”

“Two years I lost.”

Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”

“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”

Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.

“Our future?”

Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.

“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”

One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”

Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.

“No wonder your head was all wonky.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d already been with me. For two years.”

“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”

“…That’s a long time, Keith.”

“God, I hope so.”

Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”

“Like glue, darlin’.”

Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.

“Tell me about our future.”

“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”

Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”

His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.

But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.

“What about a little girl with your smile?”

“You got it.”

Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”

“Night, baby.”

This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.

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pidges-lost-robot · 26 days

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*Lance and Keith have to share a room for some reason*

Lance in the dead of night: Keith... you awake?

Keith faced away talking into a pillow: No

Lance: Right well-

Keith: What is it?

Lance: I had a question for you-

Keith: I swear to god, if you've just woken me up to ask the worm question? I'm gonna kill you!

Lance: No! No! I wasn't! That's not what I was gonna ask...

Keith: That sounds suspiciously like that was exactly what you were gonna ask me...

Lance: No... I was gonna ask...

Keith: Yes?

Lance: ... are we friends?

Keith:... what?

Lance: Are we friends? Cause I mean I know we've stopped arguing now but we never really clarified if like... we're friends or not?

Keith: I mean... I figured it was obvious...

Lance:... which is?

Keith: Yes, you idiot, do you think I'd let you stay in my bed if we weren't at a bare minimum friends?

Lance: Well, I dunno, you're pretty violent in your sleep, I've spent a few nights now dodging kicks and elbows so I don't know if that's your subconscious hatred of me coming through in sleep

Keith: ...I don't do that...

Lance: You totally do. That bruise on my forehead wasn't from training, that was from last night when you elbowed me at like 3 in the morning and woke me up

Keith: Whatever, point is, I don't hate you and obviously we're friends. It's friendship that has stopped me from murdering you for waking me up at this time

Lance: Well I figured you nearly broke my collar bone just now, so fair punishment you know...

Keith: Asshole...

Lance:....

Keith:....

Lance: ... So... would you still care for me if I was a worm?

Keith: I fucking hate you

Lance: You're the one that brought it up!

Keith:....

Lance:..... Keith?

Keith:.... Are you like a worm from the offset or did you turn into one?

Lance: Hahahahaha

Keith: You asked! I mean if you were one from the offset I'd probably still care, I maybe wouldn't have initiated a friendship but like I wouldn't feed you to the birds immediately.

Lance: You've got this planned out huh?!

Keith: Is there the possibility of you transforming back if you got turned into one? Is there like a quest to resolve that going on? Stop laughing these are important for me to consider my answer!?

Lance: None of that is important to whether you'd care about me!!

Keith: Well, no cause that's a given, you idiot, but like how far I'm willing to go to care is important in this!

Lance: Right well, I'm going to sleep while you figure this out

#conversations i swear had to have happened on the castleship between episodes #platonic klance #voltron #vld #voltron: legendary defender #lance mcclain #keith kogane #lance voltron #voltron lance #lance vld #vld lance #voltron keith #keith vld #keith voltron #vld keith #klance

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed.

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway.

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy.

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room.

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend.

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?”

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine."

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open.

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with.

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds.

Steve points to himself, "Business."

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous."

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake.

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday.

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says.

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back.

"It's my bed!"

"I think not!"

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!"

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses.

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here.

What else is new?

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely.

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face.

"This okay?" Steve asks.

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this.

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care.

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now.

Eddie rolls on top of him.

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?"

Eddie cackles, "No."

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning.

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed #college au #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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roseboysstuff · 7 months

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Keith’s brother waking him up by riding his dick and then going hack to sleep with it still inside him.

yes yes yes such a good idea CW // incest, don't like don't read

Keith was deep asleep, but his cock was hard. And so when you walk in and try to lay down next to him, needing your brother's comfort from a nightmare, you found a hard cock waiting for you. And despite the wrongness of the situation, you couldn't help but stroke it. And eventually, you were riding him, your eyes closed. So you didn't see him wake up and smile at you, only realising he's awake when you feel his hands on your hips, and you look at him surprised. "Don't stop, keep going." You kept riding him, and he just watched you as you did, enjoying the sight of his brother just bouncing on his cock. "You look beautiful on my cock, sweet boy. I could keep you like this forever." His words encourage you to keep riding, as hard as you can. Taking all you can from your brother, the brother who always kept you safe. The brother who went out and saved the universe, and came home to you. And this was his reward. His little brother bouncing on his cock, getting him closer and closer to releasing inside him. And finally he did, shooting ropes of hot seed into his little brother's pussy. "Good boy, such a good boy. Now come snuggle, but keep my cock in you. Where it belongs."

#ftm reader #male reader #x reader #keith kogane #keith x reader #keith x male reader #keith x ftm reader

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voltronisanobsession · 1 year

Text

Keith's Glowing Eyes Headcanons

I always liked the idea of Keith having like glowing yellow eyes in the dark because of his galra genes. I’ve seen a couple of posts and fan art of it and I just find it so SILLY💔💔 so I decided imma make my own headcanons of how life would be around the castle with his eyes

First of all, Keith forgets that his eyes tend to 'change' during the night time, specifically when it's dark

During the night when the lights are out, everyone usually stays in their rooms so they have no idea of Keith's little weird galra thing

So imagine Hunk's absolute fear when he decides to go to the kitchen for a late night snack when he sees two yellow eyes staring at him from the darkness of the room

Keith is literally so confused when Hunk starts yelling LMAO

"WHAT ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY KITCHEN?!"

Cue Hunk switching on the lights only to see Keith staring at him in shock

He turns them off and sees yellow eyes where he saw Keith, and then switches the lights back on to see him still staring at him

Hunk does this a few more times before stepping out of the room, deciding food was not worth him almost having a heart attack

Poor Keith had no idea what just happened, homie only wanted a cup of water

Another time this happens is when you spent the night cuddling with him and suddenly woke up

Groggily you wake him, moving to get up and hearing him shuffling awake, you turn around only to be met with yellow eyes looking at you

"OH MY GOSH!"

You're shoving yourself off the bed and stumbling onto the floor because what the HELL was that?!

"Are you ok??"

You watch as the yellow orbs move around and get closer to you

"Keith is that you?? What the hell!"

Cue this dude being confused again cuz he literally has no idea what you were talking about (my clueless man)

"What are you talking about?"

"Your EYES! They're yellow! Are they normally like that?"

It finally hit him on why you and Hunk both reacted the same way when looking at him

"Oh! That makes sense now. Yeah this is normal, my eyes have always been like this since I was little."

"Do you like uh, switch them on?"

"No."

Now that you and Hunk both know about Keith's glow in the dark eyes, you guys definitely share your stories on how you found out

Shiro walks by and hears your conversation and just jumps in too because he understands that jumpscare Keith unknowingly did too!

Pretty soon the others would have their own stories about finding Keith's yellow eyes in the dark

Lance on the other hand fully believes that a ghost is haunting the castle when he sees two glowing eyes in the hallways one night

I can imagine him screaming the whole way back to his room😭😭

I’m just gonna say that Keith can see better in the dark than normal people can😻

#keith kogane #voltron legendary defender #galra keith #keith x reader #voltron x reader #vld x reader #vld #vld Keith #voltron

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soulreapin · 24 days

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lance is a string bracelet god i can feel it in my bones man. he can do chinese staircase in his SLEEP bro. he went to summer camp every year and his first year he realized that oh shit maybe i should know how to make friendship bracelets and pulled an all-nighter teaching himself how to make them.

the whole team has one in their lion color (keith gave lance his red one during the lion swap and lance gave allura his blue one and then made keith a new black one)

if he was ever the one awake while they were asleep in a hostile space he would have some kind of space string or even like vines and is just craftin away

(keith is STILL a part of the craftfail brothers and can barely make a chinese staircase on a good day. when he does make one they look janky as all hell. the dark blue one made out of ribbon that’s got some knots pulled out from keith’s frustration is lance’s favorite and is tied around his ankle so he never loses it)

#vld #voltron #keith kogane #vld keith #klance #keith voltron #lance mcclain #vld lance #vld headcanons #headcanon

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 year

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First Meetings~

Voltron x reader drabble about the first time they met each other 💖💖💖 Gender neutral reader ALWAYS !

LANCE 💙

This cheeky boi. He first laid eyes on you back at the Garrison when he saw you and Pidge talking one day at lunch in the cafeteria. Hunk and Lance came strolling in to find Pidge, presumably to bug them and mess with their current technology fixation. Before the two boys have even sat at the table, Lance has his eyebrow cocked, a smirk on his lips and a hand slowly running through his hair.

"Hey...name's Lance." He looks down at you, leaning on the table to get closer to you. You smile at him politely, unsure of his motive with such a flirty tone.

"Hi. I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you." You offer him your hand to shake and your smile widens. Right then, as his hand fell into yours and you were being so nice to him (and he was lowkey admiring your smiling lips), he felt it. It was kind of like he had to throw up, but also like he wanted to run a marathon. You'd think he'd go for the ol' kiss on the back of the hand cliche, but not with you. He just stares, in awe of how cute you look. You were different...he didn't know why, but he just couldn't keep his cool around you.

"I-I like your name. Heh...uh yeah. Nice to meet you, too." He mumbles, now a shy blushing mess. Your hands parted, but he kept staring at you. You couldn't help the blush that crept up on your face as you quickly looked away from him. "Oh brother..." Pidge mumbles as they roll their eyes, still tinkering with their device. "Dude, you good?" Hunk whispers to him as he watches the awkward staring contest happening between you two.

"Uh I should...get going actually." You stand slowly, smiling at the two boys again before gently nudging Pidge's shoulder. "See ya later, Pidge." Pidge simply nods, not looking up from their current project. And with that, you quickly run off to your room to scream into a pillow because OH MY GOD WHO WAS THAT CUTIE AND WHERE HAS HE BEEN ALL YOUR LIFE??? And Lance...yeah, he just starts screaming right there in the cafeteria...in front of everyone because the boy is S T A R S T R U C K.

SHIRO 🖤

Aww space dad is so sweet and polite. You and Shiro met when you helped Keith rescue him when he landed back on Earth after the failed Kerberos mission. You had befriended Keith just after Shiro had disappeared and while you knew who Shiro was, you had never actually gotten the chance to meet or interact with him before you were dragging his limp body off of that medical table.

As soon as he woke up, Keith was by his side. "Shiro? Hey...how are you feeling?" Keith stood from his seat and quickly approached the bed Shiro was laying on. He sat up slowly with a groggy groan. "I'm alright." He replies softly before rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, Keith. You haven't eaten all day. Come on, why don't we-" You stop in your tracks upon seeing Shiro awake and standing slowly. You had been concerned that Keith was just rotting away in his seat waiting for Shiro to wake up, but all thoughts left your mind when you saw him. He reaches his long, strong arms above his head to stretch and you just watch, taking note of how much taller than you he is. Seeing him up close like this had your heart doing back flips. His eyes look so soft and his hair is a bit disheveled and he's smiling at you. Oh god, he's smiling at you...

"Oh, uhm. Hi. I'm (Y/N), Keith's friend." You blurt out nervously, fidgeting with your fingers. Shiro nods and holds out his hand to you. "(Y/N). Nice to know Keith is making friends. I'm-" You cut him off as you slap your hand into his, shaking it excitedly. "Shiro! Yeah, I know who you are. Everyone does." His smile becomes bashful as your eyes meet, giving you a firm hand shake. He can't find the strength to let go of you, not when you were looking at him like that, his smile growing by the millisecond. The way he repeated your name made you forget how to breathe for a second. It was like in the movies, a slow motion love-at-first-sight scene.

Keith simply raises a brow and crosses his arms as he watches you guys get lost in each other's eyes for a moment. "Uhm..." Keith's voice brings Shiro back to reality. He quickly pulls his hand away, averts his gaze and clears his throat. His once soft and lovely expression has turned more serious. "I have so much to tell you, Keith."

PIDGE 💚

Let's be real...Matt TOTALLY hooked ya'll up. You were Matt's friend before you met Pidge. He was nice and funny and hella nerdy just like you. You guys just got each other. One day, he invites you over to help you with some very challenging homework because he's obviously way smarter than you and he could tell you were struggling.

You sat across from him at his family's kitchen table, your head in your hands as you sighed. "I'm gonna fail." You groan, causing Matt to chuckle. "No you won't, (Y/N). Come on, let's go over it again." You sigh and try to follow along in your textbook as he reads to you. A small figure sneaking to the cupboard catches your eye. You glance up to see who it was looking for a midnight snack. Matt stopped reading and smirked a bit. "Pidge, you better brush your teeth after you eat all that sugar." You watch the younger of the siblings turn towards you, their arms full of different candies and chocolates. "You're not the boss of me." They reply in a snarky tone, making Matt whip his head around to look at them. "I'm the oldest person in this room, that makes me the boss of both of you." Pidge simply rolls their eyes as you struggle to look away from them.

Pidge approaches you guys, slowly sliding a mars bar across the table to Matt. "Don't tell mom I'm eating sugar this late, please?" They mumble shyly as they attempt to bribe their sibling. You can't help but stare. This adorably small person with long, messy hair and tired eyes was the most gorgeous person you'd ever seen. Matt snatches the candy bar with a cheeky grin. "Only if you share with (Y/N), too."

Pidge glances over at you and sighs. "Fine. What kind do you want?" You panic, barely able to function with them standing so close. "Uh...you uh...got any Reese's?" They go to slide the candy over to you and as you reach out for it, your fingertips touch just for a second. That's all it takes for you two to make eye contact and you both become blushing messes as you both yank your hands back. The eye contact doesn't last long because Pidge is just a shy little bean, but Pidge definitely keeps glancing over at you as you reach out and pull the candy closer. You open it and take a bite, smiling a bit. "Mmm, I love peanut butter." And Pidge just can't look away now. You like peanut butter, they like peanut butter and the way your face looks as you chew. Wow, they think you're too cute.

Pidge just stares as you take another bite. The silence, at this point, is too much to bear. Finally, Matt chimes in, "Geez, Pidge, stare much?" You blush as you look up and meet their gaze. You flash them a small smile, watching them get flustered. They quickly look away and angrily snatch the candy bar from their brother's hand. "I hate you." They grumble before walking off back to their room.

"They totally like you. Oh ho ho! I'm never letting this go." Matt snickers as your face grows more red.

KEITH ❤️

Baby boy met you after you were rescued from a galra prison. Pidge, of course, needed to search every cell for her father and brother and they stubbled upon you, dirty, weak and starving. You looked exhausted but hopeful. Pidge calls for some help in getting you and the others in your cell back to the castle. At this time, Keith was much too busy being the protector to really help you all escape.

Once back at the castle, all the others who were held captive with you were doing fine, but you were in much worse shape. The galra seemed to really despise humans so you were thrown in the ring to fight and man handled the most. Bruises littered your body, scrapes and dry blood painted your face. You had a hard time even making it off the galra ship and to the castle, so Shiro and Allura thought it would be best to put you in a healing pod.

It wasn't long before all the paladins were surrounding your pod, wondering how another human ended up all the way out here in the hands of the galra. Finally, as the pod begins to opens, the group goes silent as they watch you. "Someone better grab them. Last time I did, Allura nearly ripped my poor ear off." Lance shoves his hands in his pockets. "Don't look at me! They're like twice my size!" Pidge protests, their arms crossed now. "Guys-" Keith tries to intervene. "Just do it, Lance." Pidge argues and suddenly, the blue and green paladins are full blown shouting at one another. As Shiro tries to deescalate their fight, Keith notices that your eyes are still closed, but you're slowly leaning forward. He jumps forward to catch your weak body before you nearly face plant. You fall into his arms with a grunt, slowly opening your eyes.

"Hmm? Where...where am I?" You ask the boy holding you, his eyes looking deep into yours. "You're uh...We're uh..." Keith just couldn't come up with any words as his pretty purple eyes bore into yours and your hands clutched the sleeves of his jacket. Your lips began to stretch into a shy smile as he slowly came down to his knees, still cradling you in his arms (lmao bonding moment <3). He gently rests you on the ground, nearly scrambling to get away from you and back to his feet. You look around at the others, a confused look on your face. As Allura begins to explain where you are and who they all are, Keith is just staring at you down on the ground. He rubs his arms where your hands were just resting, a blush quickly tinting his entire face and neck. If God is real, Keith is pretty sure he just met them.

You stand slowly, feeling tired but better than before. "Wow, no way I was saved by the paladins of Voltron. Cool!" You smiled brightly as you clasped your hands together behind your back. "Uh, sorry. I'm (Y/N)." You look around the group as they all begin telling you their names. When your eyes landed on Keith, his eyes went wide with embarrassment. "Keith..." He mumbles shyly, making your stomach drop. "Thanks for catching me, Keith." You watch as he looks down at his shoes, his long dark hair covering his beet red face. You are so damn cute, what the hell? He's never felt this way before and neither have you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him want to punch something, but also made him want to cry? He is such a dense guy, but something about you softened him just a bit that day.

HUNK 💛

You and Hunk met back at the Garrison. Lance was no doubt out trying to impress some cute pilot while Pidge sat up on the roof, looking for signs of their brother and father. So, that left Hunk to go on a mission of his own. It was late, far past curfew, but when your stomach is grumbling you decide to sneak into the cafeteria in hopes of finding a late night snack. It was dark and quiet as you tip toe through the halls, constantly looking over your shoulder for anyone who might catch you. As you scurry into the kitchen, you slowly open the large industrial sized fridge. The light from the fridge illuminates the room around you and as you look back once again to check for anyone who might catch you, you nearly yelp as your eyes meet Hunk's. He's sitting up on the counter with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, his eyes wide when he sees you.

"Geez, you scared me" You both whisper in unison. The way the dim light lit up his cute chubby face had you seeing stars. There was a bit of peanut butter on the corner of this mouth and his cheeks were turning red as he stared at you. He couldn't see much detail with the way the light was shining behind you, but just the way you were standing with your hands behind your back and the way your voice sounded tired and the way you wouldn't tear your eyes off of him. Boy was whipped. "I-if you tell anyone about this-" You whispered before he jumped down from the counter to get a closer look at you. "No, its okay. I come in here all the time after curfew. It'll be our little secret."

Now that he's this close, he can see the color of your hair and the shape of your jaw and the curve of your smiling lips. You looked back and forth between his kind eyes and the jar of peanut butter in his hand, your heart racing. "You...want some?" He holds the jar out to you and you shake your head. "Uh no thanks. I was looking for something salty like chips or something." And before you can finish your sentence, he's opening cupboards to help you find a good salty snack. You watch him for a moment before you realize your heart is POUNDING in your chest. He was so...big. Not that you mind that, you just couldn't help but wonder how warm and comforting his hugs must be.

"Ah ha! Hope you like salt and vinegar chips." He turns to hand you the bag, a bright smile plastered across his tan face. You took the bag from his hand and nodded. "You really know your way around the kitchen, huh?" Your voice is still soft, just above a whisper. He lets out a soft laugh as he nods his head. "I mean...I'm not trying to brag, but I do whip up a mean apple pie. Do you...like pie?" He watches as you stare up at him. He wanted to look away because we all know Hunk is a shy babe, but he really loved the way your hair was messy right now and the way you looked at him made his knees feel weak. "Apple is my favorite pie." And at that, you're both full blown smiling at each other.

"I'm (Y/N)." You offer him your hand and he's quick to grab it, shaking it gently. "Hunk." He lets your hand go, but he wishes the contact would never end. Your hand was so cold in his and now he was picturing you two cuddled up in bed, his warm body bringing you comfort. You both stood in a comfortable silence for just a moment before you both hear talking and footsteps coming from the hallway.

"Goodnight, Hunk!" You whisper shout before taking off back towards your room. He watched you scurry off, not even worried about getting caught right now. He couldn't look away, not when you had just said his name so soft and panicked.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He sighs dreamily.

ALLURA 💖

You met the princess during a mission in which team Voltron had to sneakily board a galra ship in order to deactivate a weapon that would soon be used to try and capture their precious lions. The galra were using you to their advantage- you were a weak human but you were feisty and a decent fighter so they forced you to protect and serve them and, in return, you were treated a bit better than the other prisoners.

As sirens blare in the ship, you run to where you were told to go. You were simply following orders. As you quickly round the corner, your body SLAMS into another, sending you both falling back on your butts. You quickly regain your footing and reach for your dagger before realizing the hard collision of your bodies sent it flying off in another direction. As the other figure stands, you lift your hands and take a wide-legged stance, ready to fight with your bare hands. Before the fighting began, the tall woman in front of you takes off her helmet, making you nearly gasp. "A human?' She asks, her eyes wide. Your hands fell back to your sides as you watched her. She was so tall and pretty. Did you just die and go to heaven because you are so sure she's an angel.

You shake your head to regain clarity and raise your fists again. "Yeah, and who the hell are you?" She steps closer to you, her hands up in a nonthreatening way. "I'm Princess Allura, I am with Voltron. How did you end up here? Why are you working for the galra?" You blink in shock, your hands once again falling to your sides. "Voltron?" You repeat, realizing this could be your savior. "The galra are keeping me here, forcing me to work for them. I-" She cuts you off by grabbing your hand and leading the way. As you run along behind her, you're quick to grab your dragger off the floor and return it to it's sheath on your hip.

You couldn't help but let your eyes wonder the back of her figure, admiring her long legs and slender fingers wrapped around yours. Your hand was sweating but not as much as your face was. This beautiful lady was rescuing you after you nearly punched her just seconds ago. You simply followed along as the rest of the team took out the weapon and soon returned back to the castle.

Once back at the castle, you introduce yourself, explain your situation and sheepishly apologize for making their mission harder. "Well, I'm glad you're here, (Y/N). If the galra were utilizing your talents then I'm sure we can make good use of you, too." The way your name sounded on her voice made your mouth dry. You gulp nervously, staring up at her bright blue eyes. "Y-yeah. I'm glad I'm here too, Princess." She smiles sweetly at you, causing both of you to blush slightly. For just a moment, everything else disappears and it's just you and her, eyes locked, lips slowly turning up into a smile, cheeks growing more and more red. She realizes that the moment is becoming awkward and tense so she looks over to the others, noticing their smirks. They all knew you two were falling for each other. "Well then...are you hungry?" She asks you before glancing at you once more. "Starving." You reply softly before following the team to the dinning room.

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weird-an · 11 months

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Steve is so fucking exhausted.

He just wants to sleep. For weeks. Until next year, preferably. If another apocalypse happens, he isn't getting out of bed. Monsters, a breakup and no chance of a job where he doesn't have to wear a stupid uniform or listen to fucking Keith all day. He gets closer to accepting a job at Harrington's Steel Works every day and he sees himself already withering away in front of a printer.

It's after midnight, because Robin and him needed to check inventory of the video store and he's so done. Doesn't bother to switch on the lights, just strips and crawls underneath the blankets.

He sighs. The bed is so warm. Too warm.

"Bad day?" A voice next to him asks.

"What the fuck?" Steve switches on the light.

Billy grins at him. Blond curls a mess and he's wearing... he isn't wearing anything. Steve tries to keep looking him in his eyes and not at tanned abs and the fucking nipple piercing. Billy made the best noises when Steve played with the silver ring.

"The door was open."

It wasn't. Steve unlocked it, when he came in. Billy Hargrove is his personal curse. One hate fuck in a locker room and he's everywhere. What's even more terrible is that Steve's heart and dick jump at the same time when he sees him.

So Steve started to avoid him a week ago, apparently with rather meager results. This is the opposite of what he wanted to achieve. His racing pulse just didn't get the memo.

"What are you doing here?" Steve presses out, resisting the urge to hide his non existent modesty and growing hardon behind his hands.

"I wanna go again." Billy sits up, a dangerous shine in his eyes. Shows his teeth like he's about to bite. If he does, Steve has to bite back.

"It was a one time thing," Steve says. It was. Even though he wants to play with the piercing until Billy cries.

Billy leans over, on all fours, his breath ghosting over Steve's face. Minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth. Probably with Steve's toothbrush. What an asshole.

"You know you want to, Harrington," he purrs, chest vibrating.

He's desperate for it. The thought makes Steve's cock throb. Billy Hargrove in his bed, wanting more. More of him.

"I think you want it," he says. It's a rush, a high he hasn't known he needed. He has never been so awake before. "Coming here, all desperate for my dick."

Steve's fingers find the piercing. It's cold against his hand. He pulls it. Billy gasps, black pupils swallowing the blue ocean of his eyes.

"Say it," Steve demands. He always gets what he wants.

Billy swallows hard. "Fuck you," he growls.

"Try again." Steve clicks his tongue. Rubs Billy's nipple, watching Billy's tan getting slightly pink. Suddenly he doesn't want to ever sleep again.

#i love billy thinking he's on top when he's in fact a bottom #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #billy hargrove

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binart · 10 months

Text

Space Ranger Partner's Adventures Chapter 2

(content warning for non-explicit but VERY thirsty Lance this chapter 🤣🥰✨)

(First) (Next)

—

Lance was awake well before Keith knocked on their connected door.

Pulled from a dreamless night of sleep, thankfully. Somewhere in between agonizing over everything he said and did around Keith the previous day to pouring over the details from their mission, he eventually slipped into peaceful darkness. He'd also gone to bed without doing his usual skincare routine, or even having his nighttime juniberry tea, so Lance woke up feeling like a desert in every sense of the word.

There was discomfort, laying there. His tongue felt like a gross carpet in his mouth, and he could practically feel the wrinkles pulling at the sides of his mouth. His muscles no longer ached, of course, since even though being part Altean was a curse, it was a curse with plenty of benefits. And yet Lance struggled to find the motivation to lift himself up. He turned his head to look over at the closed bathroom door. Toothbrush. Cleanser. Toner. Moisturizer. Everything felt so far away despite how much he needed them.

A knock from behind him, a pause, then a gentle set of taps. “..Lance..? You awake?”

Keith. Lance managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. “..Uh-huh. Come in?” The door beeped quietly, slid open and without making a sound Keith walked in.

He looked.. as tired as Lance felt. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Lance stretched as he shook his head, then shifted his legs so he was facing Keith.

“Nah, I was just getting ready to get up. What's up?” Keith fidgeted for a moment with a quiet 'um' before he took a seat beside him.

“..Last night, I had to go to processing to—well.” The fidgeting resumed. “..Torat's off the team.” Oh. He wasn't expecting to be told so soon, let alone to be woken up for it. He sniffled to clear the congestion from his nose and blinked blearily.

“For trying to—to sacrifice himself? On the mission?” Keith's expression turned sour as he looked away and nodded. “..Sorry, man. Must've been hard to make that call. He seemed like he liked being on board.” The crack of Torat's torso being slammed against the base's wall last night echoed in his mind.

“He was a good part of the team, yeah. But—what he did, went against everything I'm trying to do here with the Blades.” Keith's hands bunched in Lance's blankets in frustration. He paused for a moment to think, then faced Lance with a sort of earnest vulnerability he'd rarely seen from the other guy in the years they'd known each other; a struggle Keith had always had. “I want the Blades to be a place where everyone who fights to see the war end can actually see it end.” Naxzela once again arose from his memories, but Lance shooed it away.

“I mean, that's a pretty ambitious goal given their motto's basically—uh. The opposite of that.” Keith deflated, and Lance continued with a hurried tone as he reached out to him with panicked hands. “B-But that's a really cool goal to have! Really honorable, and junk.”

“Yeah..?” God, he wasn't ready for Keith's puppy-dog eyes this early in the day. Not at all.

“Yeah! I think it's a really great thing you're doing. We've—And everyone else, too—we've all lost a lot already. So.. trying to keep more loss to a minimum, yeah. Definitely a good thing.” Was his face getting red? He felt sweaty, but Keith didn't seem to notice. Or didn't care, if he did.

“..Thanks, Lance.” The moment between them slowed, and Lance took the time to appreciate Keith's handsome smile, but then Keith's eyes widened. “A-anyway—I didn't wanna wake you up to tell you about Torat, I wanted to say sorry for not checking in last night. It was a pretty intense mission and uh—I thought we could talk about it over breakfast?”

Lance's stomach awoke to remind him he was, in fact, starving.He nodded then shifted to get up. “I'm down. Cafeteria busy this time of.. day?” Quickly he shoved himself into a clean hoodie and slipped his Blue Lion™ socks on.

“Not really. A lot of blades eat in their room for the first meal of the day. We could too, if you want.” Lance thought about sitting close to Keith as he did the day before, knees leaning against each other; a conversation between just the two of them. The intimacy of such a mundane moment slapped him across the face with a shock of deep wanting.

“Cafeteria's good! I uh, gotta stretch my legs.”

—

As Keith predicted, it was relatively quiet. The two sauntered through a short line that reminded him of his days back at the Garrison, and before long they found a dark bench to sit. Lance slid in first, with Keith to follow directly beside him.

Keith didn't hesitate to dig into the odd assortment of goos and strange looking alien plants—or, meats, maybe? Lance leaned forward and inhaled in hopes the smell of his breakfast would clue him in to how it tasted, but instead a pleasant cologne he didn't recognize drifted into his senses.

Keith took a drink from a strange space pouch at the same moment Lance realized he had just inadvertently sniffed him, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, like I was saying. I don't wanna rush into finding Torat's replacement. There's not much to do on our end while the intel division monitors the base we bugged, so..” A rosy hue bloomed on Keith's cheeks. “I thought we could take it easy for a bit. Maybe.. train like we used to.. and get better acquainted with the rest of the team.”

While Lance wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to spend more time with En, the idea of training with Keith introduced an entirely different set of butterflies into his stomach. “Take it easy and hang out with a bunch of cool alien super spies? Sounds good to me.” Keith grinned in the way he always did; lopsided and ridiculously handsome, made all the worse now by how the locks that slipped free from his loose braid framed his face.

Keith breathed a small laugh through his nose. “Good to have you on board, Lance.” He leaned forward and regarded him with a slight tilt of his head. “I mean it. It was a pretty close call yesterday, and we wouldn't have managed without you there.”

Lance outwardly preened despite the nagging voice at the forefront of his mind whispering otherwise. “Uh, yeah! That is why they call me the sharpshooter, y'know.” Keith rolled his eyes, still bemused.

—

The next few days were downright serene. It took daily hour-long calls with his family to soften the ache of homesickness in his chest, but once that was more manageable Lance was able to start truly taking in the wonders the base had on offer.

He sunk into the plush seats of the rec room's circular sofa in the early afternoon after a morning run and trip to the pool with Keith. Thankfully after they rinsed off, Keith changed into his regular full body uniform instead of the intensely distracting red shorts he'd been sporting all morning. He'd asked Lance to meet him in the rec room after Lance grabbed his own clothes from his room to spend time with the others, and as Lance stretched his legs far out in front of him and settled in, Hedrox tapped away on his oddly familiar looking tablet. Was that the new model Pidge had been going on about during their last video call?

“Hey Lieutenant,” Hedrox greeted, elongating the 'hey' in a very slow and casual manner despite the speed of his fingers tapping away. En, about fifteen feet away from the couch area, gave him a salute before returning to his push-ups on the floor. Kestin was nowhere to be seen, along with Keith. He hadn't exactly rushed to get here, so Lance wondered why he was the first to arrive. He lifted the small towel from across his shoulders and patted his face of residual moisture.

“Yo. You seen Keith around?”

“The Commander? Mhm, said he wanted to get some snacks for yo—for everyone. For the team. We.. like snacks.” En snorted from behind them, but said nothing.

“O...kay. Cool.. Uh, so.. You guys been here all morning?” He still wasn't entirely sure what to talk about with his new teammates, since he knew next to nothing about any of them. He learned Kestin was another human, surprisingly, and he'd joined the blades during an exchange program Kolivan and the Garrison had created two years ago. That was about it.

“Uh-huh, I pretty much live here when I'm not with the Intel crew,” Hedrox explained, then shifted and leaned heavily over the couch to point at their currently unmasked teammate. “En used to spend entire quintants holed up in his room working out, but now he does it here. Really stinks up the place.” The other blade halted their push-ups, and whipped up into an incredulous stance.

“Wh—Only because it was something you insisted upon! Had the Commander not agreed on your behest, I would not have done so. Would you prefer I leave?!”

“Noo, I like your stink! And I can never drag you all the way from your room to play Monsters and Mana with us here.”

“Hmph, the most simple and undemanding of tactical simulations. Can you truly blame me for not seeing the worth of such things?”

“Hold on, you guys play Monsters and Mana?!” Lance hadn't played that in years! Hedrox whipped back around.

“Absolutely! Although—” they faltered. “We were playing a campaign where um. Torat was kind of the main character. His people don't tend to live all that long so—“ Hedrox quietly settled back into his seat, and sighed. “We wanted to.. make sure he could make some nice memories with the Commander.” Despite the mask, it was obvious he was upset. En resumed exercising.

“Oh..”

“Anyway, I'll have to scrap the campaign and start a new one. Once it's ready, could I convince you to—or, that is to say—Do you want to be a part of it?!”

“Yeah, man! No one in my family likes playing anything but the Earth version of it. I think I still have my character data on my phone..” Hedrox leapt up to stand on the top of the sofa as Keith and Kestin strode in together.

“Sir Pike?! Lieutenant are you talking about the famed Sir Pike?! I'm gonna die right now.”

“What are we dying about?” Keith quirked a brow as he made a bee-line for Lance with a platter full of snacks. He then set it in the small round table curled within the sofa. Hedrox gestured emphatically at Lance, and Kestin sauntered over to a nearby mounted screen and pulled out some kind of console.

“The Lieutenant agreed to join us in a new Monsters and Mana campaign! And so I insist you join us once again, Commander.” Keith grabbed a handful of glowing pretzel looking snacks and tossed them in his mouth as he plunked next to Lance.

“..You handle making the character like before and I'll do it.”

“Deal!” At the same time, an overly loud voice from fifteen feet away boomed.

“I shall join as well!!”

Everyone looked over at En, now standing upright and rigid. They were breathing heavily and did not take their eyes off of Keith. Hedrox laughed in a way that was distinctly human, then gave En a thumbs up.

“Alrighty, I'm gonna whip up a campaign the M&M community'll lose their minds over.”

Lance looked over at Keith with his eyes wide, surprised by how lively this bunch of aliens were over a tabletop game. Keith shrugged. He offered some snacks from the platter which Lance gratefully obliged.

—

The strangeness his life had taken on soon settled into comfortable routine. In the simulated mornings in days that spanned approximately twenty-six and a half Earth hours to mimic the average day cycle of most inhabitants on the base, Lance would awake around the same time he used to in New Altea.

Instead of his solitary jog through the rolling country hills followed by the rest of the morning in the greenhouse, Lance now spent that time together with Keith. And the others, of course. Mobility and agility were highly important skills as super-spy space ninjas, so a large portion of their training regimens included plenty of cardio. They'd run the tracks in the training sector as a team, then branch off to their respective combat training zones. Close quarters combat was one of Lance's weakest areas, and after mentioning that offhandedly to Keith one night in the lounge, when Lance wasn't working on his aim, Keith would whisk him away for some practice. Together. Usually pretty sweaty all throughout, too (though En always followed and watched).

Quiznack,was Keith hot. In the weeks since his arrival, Lance had been thinking about how best to approach the asking-out-Keith conundrum. When was a good time? Anytime? When he was younger, and even now, Lance was never afraid to flirt. If someone wasn't interested, it was easy enough to move on, since how often would he really be seeing a random cute alien on some distant planet they saved? But with Keith..

Lance lifted up a tiny maintenance tool from the set for his blade issued pistol and examined the deconstructed gun on his desk in front of him. He'd already cleaned every part twice, and reassembled it in record time. It was a suitable distraction for his hands while he thought about what to do.

Lance considered the facts: Keith wasn't seeing anyone. But in the entire time Lance knew him, he'd never seen Keith directly express interest in any kind of person, so it was hard to say if he was into guys. Or anyone, for that matter. Was there a non-awkward way of trying to gauge that? Keith, buddy, hey man, just wondering if you'd hypothetically be interested in banging dudes? No reason for wondering, just curious. Totally not because I'd be devastated if I ruined our friendship by trying to get with you!

Lance clicked the final piece of the pistol back into place and groaned. He was so attractive though, it was almost infuriating! How did the cute and rough-around-the-edges Keith he'd saved the universe with manage to turn into one of the most handsome, charming, competent, and weirdly thoughtful guys he'd ever met?! It was bad enough he'd always been Lance's type. But now he had broad shoulders and a really nice ass on top of that. He wanted to.. well, he wanted to do a lot of things with Keith, obviously. But there was also the romantic part of Lance that longed for the sort of connection he hadn't had with anyone in years.

In the wake of the lions taking Allura's place in saving the universe from Honerva, Lance realized he would never be able to give her the life she deserved. He was just some guy from Cuba, some rebound,and neither of them would benefit from that kind of relationship. It was a quiet break-up. A mutual understanding, an awkward hug at the end of it, and the promise that they would still stay close friends.

But the Princess was a Princess, and the center of the newest push to unite the universe against the remnants of the empire. There was no room for Lance in that, not really, and it had been months since they spoke, let alone seen each other in person.

Lance was still kind of heartbroken over the whole thing. And the idea of pushing away Keith in the same way.. It.. scared him.

Never mind the mortifying idea of having to stick around in their tight-knit group after being rejected. Never mind the fact that Keith might even ask him to leave to avoid dealing with that whole awkward situation. Never mind how much he didn't want to go back to a life where nothing he did mattered. He loved his family, and he tried to tell himself it was fine to leave the universe saving to the rest of his old team because he was already too ruined by the war, but he was terrified he was going to spend the rest of his life doing nothing.

He wasn't talented, he wasn't special; he couldn't do anything worthwhile other than pilot a lion that didn't even technically exist anymore. And when his family and friends started aging, he'd be helpless to do anything but watch as everyone around him died because Allura thought it would be a gift to make him live six times as long as everyone else!

Oh. Lance was going to have to do something right away to stop thinking. He put his pistol back in its case and stiffly walked out the door of his room. He didn't want to be around anyone, but also hypocritically wanted desperately to be comforted. He wanted to call his mom, but then thought about having to eventually bury her. No, no, nope. Maybe he could just distract himself with training, or swimming, or something. He made his way down the now familiar hallways towards the training center,

then turned back around and went straight to Keith's door. He pressed the keypad, hoping both at once that he was busy, and that he wasn't.

“Hello?” His low and soothing voice drifted from under his fingertips.

“H-Hey! Keith, hey. You busy?”

“Hey Lance. I'm free, door's open.” Lance shuffled in with too much nervous energy that he tried to hide.

Keith's room was similar in design to his own, but sported a lot of interesting decorations. There were several boards on the walls with intel related to ongoing missions, assembled in a way that looked a bit like those conspiracy boards Keith made in his old cabin. There was a mounted case full of extremely alien-looking knives (a new hobby of his, Lance learned last week), and Kosmo was curled up in his bed, even tinier than usual. Keith turned from his desk to face Lance as he shambled in. “What's up?”

“Uhh, nothing much! Just—wondering what you were doing!” Instead of standing around strangely, Lance moved to sit on the bed and pulled the puppy-sized Kosmo onto his lap. Kosmo wiggled a bit in annoyance, realized Lance was there, and immediately settled back down into snoozing with an adorable huff. Keith leaned back in his chair and let his neck tilt back to face the ceiling.

“Not a ton. Just, so much—paperwork.” The desk was covered with small stacks of light blue paper-adjacent material, and what looked to be hundreds of space-y thumb-drives. Keith always seemed to have piles of them to plug into his personal blade-tablet thing, and apparently that was how they relayed top-secret info they didn't want to risk sending through any kind of network. It seemed weirdly inefficient, but Lance never felt like questioning it. “And most of it's another wave of applications for the team, even though I said I'm not rushing to find a replacement.” He swayed into an upright position, then turned to face him. “At this point I'm thinking about having the application say something like, 'are you willing to die to see the mission succeed?' just so I can toss the ones that say yes automatically.” Lance laughed nervously and gently scratched at Kosmo's small puppy mane.

“C'mon dude, imagine how desperate you'd be if not just one but two world-famous celebrities came to your job and had an opening on their team. Especially if they saved your life at some point, which we definitely did.”

“I guess. If you're not suited to working with them though, trying to push your way in anyway would probably just piss them off. Why even bother?”

“Ohh, buddy.. Never make a social media account.” Keith snorted.

“Wasn't planning on it. Anyway, your leg's doing that thing again.” Lance froze and looked down at his left leg jack-hammering against the floor. He'd picked up Kosmo into his arms at some point to not jostle him. “Something up?”

“No! Uh, no. I'm just—yeah, kinda antsy. You feel like doing something?” Keith studied him for a moment, then softened.

“Sure. If you wanna blow off some steam, we could—” Keith thought for a second. “Go work on CQC maybe? I used to do that all the time with the drones in the castle and it usually helped.” He stood up and walked over to Lance as he spoke, and gently picked up Kosmo from his arms. Then, he lifted his blanket up, rested the puppy against his pillow, and tucked him in. Lance instantly felt near ready to explode from fondness. He cleared his throat.

“Alright, let's go.” Surprisingly, Keith reached down to pull at the draping fabric part of his uniform that hung around his waist, then tossed it over his chair. When Lance looked at him questioningly, he smirked.

“Not giving you an advantage like last time.”

—

This was a bad idea.

High enough ranking members of the Blade of Marmora, Lance learned, were given access to a lot of amenities on base, including access to private training chambers. They'd only ever sparred with other teammates watching, which helped distract Lance enough to avoid thinking about how close he was to Keith, but this felt completely different now that they were alone.

“Masks on or off?” Keith asked as he finished inputting info into the room's door console. Recently, a time limit had been implemented to encourage blades not to overexert themselves, but no one on their team usually went for more than two or so hours except for En.

“On, I guess?” Lance then accidentally conjured an image in his mind of Keith pinned under him, hair tussled and face red, and immediately pressed the button on his suit to activate the mask. Keith nodded and did the same, but not to hide like Lance.

Lance gave a precursory quick stretch of his keyed up limbs, all electricity and jitters, and for a moment considered how uncomfortable it would be for Keith in a situation like this if he had to reject Lance, and quietly decided to put asking him out on the back-burner. At least for a while. He was still kind of a mess, anyway. “You ready?”

“Uh-huh.” He was feeling a little distracted, honestly. Keith was probably even better at CQC than Shiro at this point, so Lance knew he'd have to stay on the defensive. Keith leaned heavily on his right leg for a moment, then shot at him.

Sharp, brutal, efficient. Keith was a whirlwind of limbs and jabs. He wasn't one for grappling much, and instead whipped around Lance with a flurry of surprisingly easy to block punches.

Oh, he was warming him up and going easy on him. Lance's pride prickled a bit, and he took a moment to switch off the defensive to sweep a leg under the other man. But Keith leapt up in an instant, gripped the front of Lance's uniform, then tossed him. Lance needed only a second to recover before righting himself back onto his feet, and launched back over at Keith.

This time he was on the offensive, and though he lacked the same amount of raw Galran strength that Keith had, compensated by redirecting Keith's punches away from himself with rigid strikes of his forearms and elbows. Blue taught him, years ago, that in all ways he was best suited to be like water. Their comms were open, and he heard Keith give a satisfied laugh.

“Pretty good, Lance.”

“Hmph! You gonna go easy on me all day, dude? 'Cause I can just as easily head down to the pool if you're gonna—” Keith vanished from his view. What?

The slight breeze from his left was the only indication Lance got before he whipped around and braced. Keith's kick made a crack as it brutally connected to his crossed forearms shielding his chest, and Lance once again went careening backwards. Pain, bright and stinging flashed through his arms, and the air was knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground. He gasped and shuddered through it with his jaw clenched hard and tried to right himself. His armored arms were suddenly a sturdier white with blue bracers.

The inside of his mask lit up strangely, and in the same moment Lance noticed that, his fist was already connecting to Keith's masked cheek. Keith stumbled backwards. Lance took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him; this time it worked. He stomped on his ribs and Keith let out a pained gasp, but grabbed his ankle before Lance could retract it. In what felt like slow motion, his leg was twisted and pulled, and his balance was stolen from him. The ground slowly crept up to meet him, and with strength Lance couldn't match, Keith pinned his arms on either side against the smooth floor. He struggled for a moment before realizing the futility of it, then loosened the wires pulling his screaming muscles taut.

They both heaved deep breaths, masked faces only inches apart.

“Quiznack. You've been—” Keith wheezed and shook his head. “—holding out on me, Lance! Didn't know you had moves like that.”

It wasn't as bright anymore, and Lance was hit with the sudden realization that Keith was, in fact, very close right now. He bit back an embarrassed shriek and wiggled around until Keith released his hold. He blurted out the first stray thought that floated through his currently flat-lining brain. “Farming'll do that!” Lance squeaked.

“Farming—What?!” Keith wheezed again, and before long started to laugh. “That makes no sense!” He flopped down next to Lance, and relaxed with a chuckling sigh.

Lance felt a little like he wanted to die from embarrassment. But as he defended his nonsense claim, mostly found himself wanting to see Keith without his mask in that moment.

—

🥺 i wanted more BONDING SCENES!!! action and sad can wait!! Lance has to wax poetic about Keith's ass NOW!!

ANYWAY DID U LIKE THIS CHAPTER 😳

& BTW! I've already got up to chapter 5 on my patreon if u feel like supporting me and getting access to it early.... 👀

#klance #voltron #vld #keith kogane #vld lance #srpa #blade lance

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callmelyc · 5 months

Text

Angsty post canon concept:

When Allura dies what if the Altean magic she used on Shiro and Lance weakens and that's how ppl find out Lance also died?

Both Lance and Shiro start with symptoms they can ignore and ones doctors brush aside. They get told it's fatigue, they get told it's after effects from fighting In the war like they had for all that time. Neither realize it all starts after Alluras death.

Then they end up with things unexplainable. Things like extreme full body tremors, sudden extreme chills and are icy cold to the touch no matter the temperature. Their bodies ache in the ways they had in their deaths but neither man admits it out loud too afraid of what that might mean so neither is aware they aren't alone is this bizarre and sudden turn of events.

It's not until Lance collapses and is rushed to the Garrison hospital that they discovered it something more.

His body deteriorating from the inside out seen visibly from their newest high tech scans. Rotting, closing down, slowing or lacking proper function like his body has given up. Like his body is referring backwards to lack of life but no one knows why.

It's almost like its frying itself from the inside out, it's path crawling closer and closer to his heart with every passing day like bolts of electricity pulsing more and more upward.

Shiro is the first to realize what it means once Lance is finally giving the symptoms they'd had to pry out of him. He realizes with dread that his fellow paladin has things that match up too close to his own.

He only realizes bc he's felt similar things, only his resemble his own death and he knows for a fact its thinfs in Excruciating pain, a pain he thought no one but himself would ever understand.

To get lance to admit what happened Shiro goes through the scans himself to prove his point. No one enjoys hearing Lances story, Allura hadn't even known she was capable of what she'd done to him So he's worse off than Shiro is and terrified of the idea of dying again this slowly

both get taken to an off planet hospital, one that could preserve their symptoms until the rest of their team and families could find a way to heal them

But without Alluras alchemy No one knew what to do.

First they try talking to the alteans on new altea but none have any knowledge of the alchemy allura had used for them

Then the team spreads out

Pidge uses her ranking in her field to gain any and all database information she can get her hands on

Hunk uses his connections To the Balmera and other species to attempt to find any information on healing abilities that might help

Keith is the most successful, the man he loves and his brother are dying and he wouldn't accept that one bit

He sends all the Blades willing to look for any possible Leads and anyone who might know anything about healing magic or alchemy

Keith is the one who comes across one of haggars old druids, one well versed in altean alchemy and one bitter at what had become of the craft

She had understood, to a degree, what Allura had done to Save both men

She had tied their life force to her own to ground them back to this plane of existence and now that she's no longer tied to one universe her connection has faded and so has theirs

"You must tie them to another life to keep them but this practice is taboo. If this next life dies they will with it."

Keith doesn't hesitate for a moment "just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

He ends up tying Lances life force to his own, Lance so sickly he didn't get a choice and Keith apologizes the entire way

He combs fingers through lances thinned hair hoping it brought any comfort to the man that had no energy to even stay awake anymore "you can be as angry as you want after this, as long as you survive I don't care anymore..."

Shiros husband does the same for Shiro

They know it's worked when their bodies stop dying and start to finally try to heal.

The damage so extensive they both spend months in newly crafted healing pods that do everything to try to reverse it.

Both come out whole, alive and maybe a little worse for wear than before All this took place.

But no one cares so long as they stay alive.

And, if when Keith tells lance what he'd done to save him, Keith earns a strict slap to the face for his recklessness that's followed by a gentle kiss.

Well, no one says a word.

#voltron #lance vld #vld #vld lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance #keith x lance #keith voltron #shiro vld #i put this concept on Twitter and rhey were frothing at the mouth over it #this will be turned into a full fic so stay tuned

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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Keith is acting suspicious.

Lance is sure of it. Beyond his usual shiftiness, his awkwardness, his tendency towards privacy. Lance knows his boyfriend, and he knows him well, and as such he knows enough to realise that his boyfriend is acting fuckin’ dubious.

Lance is going to snoop. (Yeah, yeah, ethical schmethical. Snooping fosters distrust in relationships and makes things tense blah blah blah. Lance recognises that. He also grew up with fucking Hunk Garrett and His Entire Family, so he also recognises that snooping is simply the best way to gather information. Fair’s fair.)

He waits until his boyfriend’s snores start to kick up, making the bedroom sound like an illegal motorized lawnmower race, and then carefully starts scooching out of his arms.

It takes a while — Keith likes to hold him. (Lance has to take a moment to calm himself down after the thought, lest he start to giggle giddily to himself, reminded that Keith loves him so much that at his most unguarded, his first instinct is to crush Lance in his arms. It’s exhilarating.) But slowly and steadily he manages to slide out of the arms around his waist, filling the newly hollow space with a pillow, and tumbles to the floor. He takes a moment, crossing his legs and sitting next to the bed, to look up at Keith, at the ratty mess of his bedhead and wide open snoring mouth and the tank top skewed across his torso, the hickeys Lance left all across his chest and collarbones peeking out.

“You are such a shit,” he whispers fondly. “I love you so bad it makes me want to, like, bite you or something. You make me weird.”

He watches Keith’s chest rise and fall until his legs fall asleep, wherein he flops onto the hardwood, wiggling his legs through the pins and needles and screeching silently into his arm (worst feeling in the WORLD) until his legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, and then he inches himself towards the right corner of the room like an inchworm.

(It’s three in the morning. No one is awake to judge him to give him shit or laugh at him or anything. He can do what he likes.)

He pulls himself up to his knees when he finally makes it to the corner, loosening his shoulders in preparation. The room is dark, so it’ll be a challenge, but this is not the first time he’s done this. Hell, it isn’t even the fiftieth. He’s a nosy person. He could do this in his sleep, probably, so in the dark is no problem.

As slowly as he can manage, to make sure it’s silent, he pries off the metal grate covering of the air vent, setting it down gently beside him. Laying down on his stomach again to get a better angle, he reaches down into the wide tube, following the curve of the cool metal, arm buried up to his shoulder, until he’s reached as far as he physically can. He carefully starts brushing his hands along the air vent, searching, feeling. It shouldn’t be too far down since his arms are way longer than Keith’s (Lance enjoys calling him T-Rex, which Keith hates and literally everyone else who knows them loves. It’s great).

Finally, his fingers brush on something small, compact, sturdy, and soft. He wraps his fist around it and slowly drags it out of the vent, keeping it in his fist as he crawls out of the bedroom and down the hall, somersaulting into the kitchen. He heads over to the fridge, figuring that if he uses the fridge light and Keith walks in, he can just pretend he’s getting a snack or something, shoving the thing he found into his pants. Keith’ll be too out of it to question it, anyway.

Laughing quietly and evilly to himself as he pulls open the fridge door, he brings his closed fist up to the light, examining the treasure he found. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, to take in what’s in front of him.

He gasps sharply when he processes, and the treasure slips out of his hands, clattering loudly to the floor.

He freezes immediately, listening for the telltale signs of his boyfriend snorting awake, noticing Lance’s side of the bed is empty, then the sound of his footsteps as he comes to look for him.

But, fortunately, there’s nothing. The only thing Lance hears are Keith’s continued snores.

Rapidly, Lance scoops up the box and brings it back to the light. It’s unmistakable — there’s only one thing that houses in a small hinged velvet box. It explains the shiftiness over the last few weeks, too, the nervousness that Keith has been disgusting as mysterious intrigue.

Keith is going to propose. Keith is going to propose!

Smiling so widely his face hurts, Lance flicks open the box, bringing his face closer to carefully inspect the ring inside.

It’s difficult to see in the dull blue light of the fridge, but Lance starts to cry when he sees it, because he recognises this ring. This is Keith’s dad’s ring; old, heavy gold, classic princess cut diamond, simple and polished and elegant. This is the ring Keith often wears around his neck, although he rarely has as of late, for now obvious reasons. This is the ring Keith has carried with him for almost two decades. This is, without a doubt, Keith’s most prized Earthly possession, and his intent is to gift it to Lance, as a promise of his love and trust and faithfulness.

Lance has to sit down so he doesn’t pass out. He grabs a dishtowel on the way to the floor, pressing it to his face to muffle his absolutely wailing sobs, the most ugly crying he’s literally ever done in his life.

He’s so glad he snooped. If he had this reaction when Keith finally summoned the balls to ask him, his engagement photos would be so embarrassing.

He paused mid-sniffle.

Actually.

A little embarrassed of himself, he slides up his phone, holding the ring box up to his tear-swollen and smiling face to snap a picture. He looks like a mess, but it’s important to him to have a physical memory of the moment he first learned Keith planned to marry him. He’s sure he’ll cry more over it the next time he’s feeling sappy and emotional.

He doesn’t realise how long he sits, fridge wide open, back to the cabinet doors of the kitchen island, staring in awe at the ring, until his watch starts to beep.

“Fuck,” he curses, scrambling to his feet. It’s six o’clock. Keith’ll be up in fifteen minutes to go on his morning run, Lance has literally been mooning over his ring for two and a half hours.

He runs back to the bedroom, barely remembering at the last second time muffle his footsteps, shoving the ring back into the vent and pressing the grate back onto the hole. Keith stirs slightly at the noise, so Lance abandons any thought of whether or not the ring box is positioned back exactly where he found it and fuckin’ dives for the bed, reburying himself in his boyfriend’s arms and hoping he can pass it off as just having shifted around in his sleep or something. Apparently he squirms and kicks a lot (which is a lie that Keith perpetuates to take attention away from the severity of his snores), so it should be fine. Probably.

“Wh—L’nce?” Keith mumbles, stirring from behind him. He inhales deeply, arms pulling away from Lance’s and stretching out above him. Lance’s heart pounds. He forces himself to stay relaxed, to avoid squeezing his eyes shut. He prays that Keith doesn’t notice how sweaty he is.

Keith leans over to press a lingering kiss to his neck, then chuckles. Lance can feel the imprint of his smile on his skin, and tamping down his own reflexive smile is literally the hardest thing he has ever had to do in his entire life.

“You’re warm as hell,” Keith murmurs, dragging his lips down his neck, across his shoulders. His hand comes to rest in his hip, curling into the hollow there. “Betcha you were squrimin’ around in y’re sleep last night, ya worm. Betcha I’ve got bruises on my shins.” His shoulders, pressed against Lance’s back, shake with his laughter, because he is a shithead who is so lucky that Lance loves him. He presses one final kiss to Lance’s skin and then rolls out of bed. Lance listens carefully as he gets dressed in his jogging clothes and runs a brush through his hair. He falls half asleep listening to the familiar sounds, rousing slightly again when Keith ducks back in to kiss Lance’s head one last time before heading out.

Lance smiles as he falls asleep for real, after the sound of the front door opening and closing.

He’s gonna clown that dumbass so goddamn badly.

———

Lance has a love-hate relationship with pranks. On one hand, the one and only time he was sent into an asthma attack so bad he had to go to the hospital was after he and Hunk wrapped every single thing in Veronica’s room with aluminum foil while she was away on a trip, and upon seeing her reaction laughed so hard his lungs basically collapsed. He still can’t think of that without laughing. On the other hand, he’s had more than enough cruel pranks shoved his way, and never in his life wants anyone to feel humiliated because of something he did.

He can’t not prank Keith, though. He’s literally beat Keith to his own proposal. A prank is in order.

Usually, he’d call Hunk for something like that. They’ve been partners in crimes for most of their lives, after all. Pidge too, honestly. He knows they’d both get a kick out of this whole situation as well.

But…even if those dunderheads were capable of keeping their mouths shut, which they’re not, Lance kind of wants to…well, he wants to keep his proposal to himself. He likes being in on it. He likes being to only one in on it, actually. Honestly, the only thing he wants to do is brag to Keith that he knows, which defeats the whole purpose.

He straightens abruptly. A smirk spreads across his face.

He has an idea.

———

The first step is recon. He needs access to the ring, regularly and long-term, but all will be for naught if Keith realises it’s missing. He needs to know if Keith stashed the ring when he decided to propose and avoided thinking about it, or if he checks on it frequently and stresses himself out about when he’s finally going to go through with it. Both are very Keith options. In fact Lance wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow managed both at the same time, as impossible as that seems.

To get around the issue, Lance goes Spy Barbie. He waits until Keith goes out for his weekly coffee date with Shiro and Adam and then digs through his makeup kit, setting aside what he needs and sitting next to the air vent grate. He spends a good amount of time polishing the metal, making sure it’s as fresh and untouched as it was when it was first put in its package, and then he uses a wide end brush to apply a thin layer of highlighter to the white metal. He takes great care to ensure that no colour is visible, only a slight sheen if one were to look closely. And Keith doesn’t have any reason to look closely, and since Lance knows the universe loves him, he won’t.

The next step is waiting. Lance acts completely normally when Keith gets home, if a little giddy. Keith most certainly notices Lance’s giggles and affection and the way he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself, but he doesn’t seem to mind or question it. Lance does sometimes get like this, after all.

He scored a hot as hell boyfriend. He’s allowed to be a little awed sometimes. He doesn’t feel weird about it.

He does, however, mellow out in the next few days. Keith takes him to a car show, which is fucking wicked, and somehow manages to get himself and Lance behind the wheels of two 200 horsepower Mustangs for them to race, which is so exhilarating that Lance doesn’t have words for it. He just yells and jumps around about it a lot. He doesn’t actually manage to find words for a couple hours after he totally smokes Keith’s ass, but whatever. It’s cool. Keith tried his best and everything, Lance is sure.

A week later, when Keith is out on his coffee date again, Lance gets to work. He cuts a large square of parchment paper and covers it with clear packing tape, careful not to touch the sticky side, overlapping strips so they make one giant tape sheet.

Once the parchment sheet is covered, he peels off the tape, and as planned it comes off in one large sheet, slightly bigger than the air vent grate. Again careful to steer clear of the sticky part, he places the tape sheet sticky side down onto the grate, pressing down hard and rubbing to smooth it out completely flat. Once he’s sure it’s totally stuck down, he picks at one corner until it’s loose, then slowly and meticulously peels the whole sheet back. He holds the tape, now showcasing the concealer-print of the grate, up to the light, examining it with the utmost scrutiny.

Not one single fingerprint in sight. Keith has not touched the grate at all, hasn’t dug into his secret hiding spot. He is taking the refusing to think about it route, then.

Lance smirks. He reaches down and scoops up the ring, placing the grate back where it belongs and skipping out to the living room, humming jovially to himself.

Excellent.

———

The first picture Lance snaps, while biting his lip so hard to keep back his laughter it bleeds, is once again in the dead of night, two weeks after Lance first discovered the ring. Keith is sprawled out on his back this time, arms and legs askew, sheets tangled somewhere around his legs. Lance shifts so they’re both facing the same direction, then holds up his phone camera, trying to figure out how to artfully position himself for utmost devastation upon discovery. He decides eventually on a classic.

He heads over to the dresser to pick out his cutest pajamas, settling on the red spaghetti strap top with lace and short-shorts, debating on accessorizing and deciding at the last minute not to bother except for lip gloss, which is always appropriate. He climbs into bed next to Keith, gently laying his head on his chest and maneuvering one arm to wrap around Lance’s hips. The other he leaves flopped on top of the pillows. He leaves Keith’s mouth wide open because it’s funny, and goes the extra mile to mess up Keith’s hair worse than it already is, because that’s funnier. Finally he flicks open the ring case with his left hand and holds it to his face, grinning widely, and uses his right to snap a picture of the two of them. Once he’s satisfied with it, he untangles himself from the bed again, puts the ring away, presses a sticky lip gloss kiss to Keith’s cheek for funsies, and crawls back into bed for real. His sleep is sound as a baby’s.

———

The next photo doesn’t actually happen for another month. Lance fears overdoing it, and also kind of fears getting caught with the ring, so he leaves it in its hiding spot until the opportunity for another cheeky photo presents itself.

The opportunity in question arrives when Keith announces that he has arranged to drive down to the secluded beach that Lance took him too early in their relationship to spend the day. At first Lance thinks he’s proposing for real, and to check he waits until Keith has the car all packed up and ready to go and then pretends to run inside to go to the washroom. Instead he ducks into their room and tears into the air vent, grasping around until his fingers close around the box.

He scoffs to himself. Wimp.

He quickly shoves the box into his fanny pack (fanny packs are COOL and CONVENIENT and Lance will not hear a word of controversy on the subject, they are absolutely nothing like Keith’s dweeb utility belt) and sprints back to the car. When Keith asks him why he’s smirking, Lance manages to convince him that he’s just excited for the beach.

Lance should have been an actor, honestly.

He mostly forgets about the ring while they’re there. He has enough sense to keep it in the car instead of on the beach so it doesn’t get stolen, unlikely as it is, and just enjoys the day with his boyfriend. He convinces Keith to go jet skiing with him and cackles to himself as he purposely sends Keith flying off the back of it. He screeches at the top of his lungs later when Keith scoops him up from his nap and literally chucks him into the ice cold water. The two of them make really garbage sculptures of their friends in the sand to amuse themselves. They gather ugly seashells and send pictures to their friends asking them if they’ve been turned into mollusks, since there is a resemblance. The whole day was a blast. Lance firmly slots it in his top ten days of all time.

When they go for a long walk to watch the sunset, Lance snaps a picture with the ring and a very teasing grin the second Keith has his back turned. He will bring up how this was a perfect moment to propose, and he will pat Keith’s head condescendingly about it. He can’t wait.

———

The third photo is another dead-of-night-situation. Lance knows it’s repetitive, but it’s easy and it’s funny and Lance can’t resist.

To change things up a bit, he decides not to be in the photo, and also to see just how much he can get away with.

Keith is on his side, this time, one hand tucked under the pillow, one hand held loose and open on top of it. He’s been tired, lately, and when Lance says he fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, he is not exaggerating. In fact Lance is reasonably certain he passed out in the way down. He is KOed. He’s unconscious. He is absolutely dogged out.

The timing is perfect.

Carefully, aware of the consequences should Lance make a mistake, he removes the ring from its box. He realizes abruptly that it’s the first time he’s ever done that, despite his ridiculous quest, and he finds that he can’t quite let go of the ring just yet. The metal feels cool and smooth on his finger tips; worn, even. It’s shinier than it used to be, which means Keith has probably had it professionally retouched. Resized too, probably, although Lance can’t quite bring himself to check. The diamond catches the minimal light in the room and refracts into rainbows that fall softly on Keith’s lax face, highlighting his sharp jawline, his softly squished cheek, his relaxed brow. He looks so dorky when he sleeps, completely free of the furrow of concentration that usually resides in between his eyebrows, his resting frown. His mouth is always wide open when he’s out, and the echoing of his snores is so comically loud and ridiculous but absolutely something that Lance can’t live without. He has them recorded, actually, for the rare nights they’re not home together, on the rare night Lance has to sleep alone.

Smiling softly to himself, Lance places the ring in Keith’s open palm. He rests his hand on top of Keith’s for a moment, just because he can, just to relish in the scratch of Keith’s callouses on his skin, before pulling back and steadying his phone to snap a picture. He catches it right as Keith inhales heavily, right as his nose scrunches up.

It’s goofy as hell. It’s perfect.

———

The fourth picture is the riskiest, Lance thinks. He’s taken to carrying the ring around with him everywhere, almost as if he is the one planning to propose, just in case he has a moment when Keith’s back is turned. (There really aren’t that many. Keith faces him a lot. He likes to hold Lance hand and kiss his face, neither of which you can do from behind. Lance fucking loves his boyfriend so much.)

They’re at a Thing. Lance’s parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary, and obviously Lance is bringing Keith, and since Keith is his mother’s favourite he is encouraged to bring his family as well, which means Shiro and Adam are coming, and if Hunk and Pidge weren’t invited then someone would cry and nothing would be right in the world, and of course Veronica is bringing Allura, and Coran comes because Lance’s dad thinks he’s the funniest man to walk the Earth. And of course all Lance’s relatives are there.

The point is that it’s a full house. A couple full houses, actually, since their neighbours are also involved. It’s a lot of people in one place.

As is protocol in crowded places, Keith is essentially glued to Lance’s side. Lance is quite happy with this arrangement, because he gets to show his boyfriend off like the hot piece of ass he is, especially to his rude ass great aunties and uncles who always had something to say about Lance and his single-ness when he was still rocking braces. So.

One thing about Keith, though, is that everyone who meets him is doomed to fall in love with him forever and ever, or so Lance has noticed. His niece and nephew are no exception, and immediately upon catching sight of their uncle — Keith, that is, Lance may as well be dead meat when Tio Keith is available, which, rude — they descend upon him not unlike a vulture may descend upon a recently deceased armadillo. Or whatever. Lance didn’t grow up in the desert, he doesn’t know what happens there.

Occupied as he is, one child hanging off each arm, Keith cannot keep his vice grip on Lance’s hand. Occupied as he is, two children talking at him in a mix of Spanish and English so rapid that Lance himself cannot keep up, which is saying something because his nickname for many years was and aptly so Motormouth, Keith cannot have his full attention on Lance. In fact, even, his back is delightfully turned.

Lance doesn’t hesitate. He flicks open the ring box and snaps a picture. His grin is nothing short of gleeful and he is entirely unapologetic.

When he turns back around, ring box stuffed back into his pocket, he realizes Nadia is staring at him with wide eyes.

“You, shush,” Lance says, and then switches to Spanish so Keith, who is still learning, will miss it, “or I’ll choose a random child to be my flower girl. I swear.”

She glares at him. “This is why Tio Keith is my favourite,” she mutters, because she is a snot who acts as if Lance does not and has not for her whole life taken her on all sorts of cool awesome amazing trips and bought her cool awesome amazing presents. Who was it who bought them recorders when they were seven to terrorize Luis with? Lance. Who was it to take them to a live rocket taking off the summer they turned nine? Lance.

“You’re a brat,” he informs her.

She sticks her tongue out at him, snickering. “Side genes.”

Lance unfortunately has nothing to say to that and also refuses to be roasted by an eleven year old, so he yanks Keith away as penance and takes him to a corner somewhere to make out. He feels very smug about it.

———

The fifth time doesn’t happen.

The fifth time is a clusterfuck.

The fifth time, it’s night again, and Lance honestly doesn’t even plan on taking another picture. He’s just next to the vent, lying on his belly, legs kicking in the air as he inspects the ring for the billionth time. He’s so excited. He can’t wait to wear this on his finger. He can’t wait for Keith to put it there. He’s can’t wait to be Keith’s husband, is the crux of it all. It’s like groundhog day except with literal euphoria. Lance is the luckiest man literally alive, and Keith hasn’t even hinted towards a plan to pop the question yet.

“You are the nosiest motherfucker in the planet, you shithead.”

Lance yelps, startling so bad he almost brains himself on the floor and nearly drops the ring. He manages to catch himself with the grace of God and also probably luck, or neither of those things, but either way Lance heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

“You scared me, you butthead!”

Keith chuckles. His voice is low and raspy from sleep, vowels still rounded from the accent that only comes out when he’s mad or drunk or tired. Lance’s belly swoops. Keith grabs Lance’s ankle and tugs, dragging him over to him, pulling him upright when he’s close enough. Lance goes into him fully, curling up into him, head tucked under his chin. Keith’s hands come to rest on top of his, sliding the ring box from him.

“How long have you known, you snoop?”

“Six months,” Lance answers. “In my defense, you were acting suspicious as all hell.”

Keith kisses his head. “Fair.”

“I need to know everything about everything or I’ll die. You know this.”

Keith snorts. He takes Lance’s left hand and smooths it flat, spreading out his fingers. “Yeah. Ruined my plans, though.”

“Oh, please. You and I both know there were no plans involved. You walked by a shop advertising ring retouching and walked in before you even thought about it.”

Keith says nothing. Lance grins and presses on.

“I bet you cried the whole time, too.”

“Shut up. I’m gonna keep the ring.”

Lance kisses him on the chest, the closest place he can reach, through his sleep shirt. “No, you’re not.”

“Mhm.” Keith plucks the ring out of the box with one hand, setting it on the ground beside them and grabbing Lance’s hand with his other. “You’re right. I’m not.”

He doesn’t move for a while, except to stroke his thumb over the palm of Lance’s hand, over and over again. Lance likes the feeling. He’s always likes the feeling of Keith’s hands in him.

“I know this isn’t a fancy dinner or sunset on the beach or with your whole family present,” he murmurs. “But I’m tired of waiting, if you don’t mind me jumping the gun.”

Lance smiles widely. A tear leaks out of his eye, dripping down his face and onto Keith’s hand.

“I don’t.”

“Good.” Keith holds the ring just above Lance’s finger, poised, ready to slide it on but waiting for permission. “Lance Sanchez, will you marry me?”

“Keith Gyeong, I would want nothing more.”

Unhesitant at last, Keith slides his father’s ring onto Lance’s finger, centring it so the diamond shines brightly in the middle. It fits perfectly.

The tears stream down Lance’s face, and he can’t for the life of him pretend that they’re not, not that he’d bother. He buries his face in his fiancé’s neck and feels Keith’s own tears soaking his hair.

“I took a bunch of sneaky pictures of me holding the ring in front of you,” Lance admits.

Keith laughs. “Of course you did.”

“I carried the ring around for months.”

“Checks out.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Keith hums, tilting his head up and kissing him properly, entwining their hands so they can both feel the ring press against skin. “No more waiting for you, sweetheart.”

———

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