#pining lance

[autisticlancemcclain]

The situation starts on the couches of a hotel lobby on a random planet at three-something in the morning, sprawled all over each other, exhausted, as Coran quietly checks them in.

“Hey, Lance,” whispers Keith, from somewhere beside the shoulder he offered. Lance groans, feigning more tiredness than he actually feels, heart racing since Keith first shifted so Lance would have somewhere to rest his head. He has this strange feeling of invasion, even though Keith offered, even though they’ve been in this position dozens of times before. He’s waiting almost for the other shoe to drop.

“Mm-what,” he mumbles, muffled into his roughed shoulder pads, words smushed together.

Keith sighs instead of answering. For half a second Lance tenses. But Keith only shifts again, not pushing Lance off but moving so Lance is pressed closer to him, and then the heat of his breath tickles the shell of Lance’s ear, and he tenses for a whole different reason.

And then there is, inexplicably, the feeling of what must be Keith’s lips, pressed to the side of Lance’s skull, gentle and lingering, and Lance thinks clearly to himself: what the fresh actual and genuine fuck.

“‘M sorry,” says Keith, so quiet it would be impossible to hear were his mouth not one single inch away from Lance’s ear. He kisses again, and he almost sags into the motion, into Lance. ���I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of you earlier. I was stressed. I missed you, too.”

Lance opens his mouth. He muffles a choking sound with all of his strength.

“All good in the hood,” he finally manages, and then wants to strangle himself. “We’re — tight, Keithalicious.”

Somewhere, somehow, there is a God, and this God looks upon him with the utmost cruelty, and so Lance suffers, unjustly, every day of his life. He often prays that he will wake up one morning in the absence of a tongue. A hindrance and horrible sacrifice, of course, but one that may be worth the total sum of humiliation he feels so acutely and so frequently by virtue of God’s gift of language.

Shit is just not worth it, sometimes.

Keith’s laugh tickles a little. “I’m glad, sweetheart.” His final kiss is light, more of a peck than anything. He pats Lance’s hip twice before standing. Lance wonders, vaguely, when the hell his hand was in his hip area in the first place, and how the hell he’s supposed to rationalize that somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. “‘M gonna go help Coran. See you in a few.”

“Yeah,” is what Lance means to say, but unfortunately when he opens his mouth the only sound that escapes is a strange kind of croak, clawing its way out of his throat and withering to death somewhere in the air between them. It may be, he realises with an intense flash of solemnity, the last remaining dredges of his dignity. Rest in fucking peace.

Keith just smiles again (a real one that shows his crooked incisors and crinkles his eyes and makes him looks handsome, not hot or sexy or beautiful but handsome, in a way that genuinely makes Lance weak in the knees) and jogs over to the front desk. Lance watches him place a friendly hand on Coran’s shoulder, leaning in and narrowing his eyes at the paper the front desk worker offers, saying something Lance can’t hear with his Black Paladin face in full force. When he finally manages to wrench his eyes away, he sees the faces of his team, gobsmacked, staring at him with wide eyes and jaws brushing the polished blue tiles.

“What,” Shiro manages eventually, “the fuck.”

“Since fucking when are you two boning!” Pidge adds, shamelessly.

“I thought you had a thing for Allura?” questions Hunk.

Lance’s own jaw snaps shut. His ears burn, worse than they already were, and he glances at the princess only to find her already looking away. Shame burns something fierce in the pit of his stomach. It’s an unwelcome replacement of the butterflies.

“What me and Keith do behind a closed door is none of your business,” Lance says hotly, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest ridiculously. His heart pounds. He raises his voice to drown it out. “We had a bonding moment, after all.”

Pidge barks a laugh. The rest of the snorts and giggles soon follow, and soon the team is looking at him in fond exasperation, rolling their eyes and muttering about Lance and his antics. Allura, even, looks him in the face again. The roiling in his stomach doesn’t change, but the pound of his heart is replaced with something bitter on the back of his tongue.

Anything is better than looking ignorant. Even if you look like a fool.

He settles into the corner of the couch — much less comfortable than Keith’s armoured shoulder, somehow — and lets his eyes slide shut, lets the familiar sound of his team quietly conversing and the ambient sound of a public place at night wash over him as he fades into a half-sleep. The same kind of sleep in a car on the way home from a long road trip, late at night; half aware of the movement and murmured sound of your parents’ whispering in front seat, time stretching around you like taffy.

He stirs slowly at the sound of boots hitting the floor, bleary eyes still half-shut. Keith slowly comes back into focus, standing in front of him now. He’s frowning, troubled.

“They booked us two separate rooms,” he explains, pursing his lips at the two keys in his hand.

Lance pauses. “…Yes.”

Keith doesn’t pick up on it. (That, at least, is familiar enough to make Lance smile.)

“You’d think they’d…well, whatever. I suppose it’s fine. I’ll come join you after you’re showered?”

“Keith —”

“I think my room has the bigger bed, actually. You come to mine.” He opens the little envelope thing and pulls out the extra key, sliding it into Lance’s hands. “I’ll bring up your luggage.”

“Keith, I’m not going to —”

Lance stops.

Keith, I’m not going to sleep with you, is what he was going to say. Keith, what the hell. Keith, you’re acting like a pod person. Keith, I don’t understand what’s going on. Keith, everyone is laughing at us and you don’t seem to notice. Or care. Keith, you’re acting like you’re my — boyfriend, or something. Keith, one day ago you didn’t want anything to do with me. Keith, now you can’t seem to get enough of me. Keith, I am going to lose my mind. Keith, Keith, Keith.

“Okay,” Lance says instead, quiet. He turns the key over in his hands. It looks like a regular white hotel key. It feels heavier, somehow. “Okay, I’ll meet you in twenty.”

Keith flashes a quick smile. It, too, is genuine, and Lance lips are quirking up to match before he can think about it.

“Liar. You’ve never taken less than a half hour shower in your life.”

“I have — so.”

Shaking his head, fondness bleeding from him, Keith steps forward, bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to Lance’s forehead. Lance feels all the air exit his body in one huge whoosh.

“I know you, goober. We got all night. Decompress. I’ll check the closet and under the bed before you get there. Don’t take too long.”

Lance stills. He watches after Keith with wide eyes. His heart, finally calmed again, fucking races.

He’s never, not once in his life, told anyone about the — thing. With the — closets, and under the bed. Not one person; not even Hunk.

It’s stupid, is what it is.

But Lance’s older cousin was kind of a — jerk. And when they were kids he would make these freaky fucking paintings with red eyes and smudged faces and — hide them, in Lance’s closet or dresser drawers or under his bed, and convince him they would come to life in the night and posses him, and it was so fucking dumb, but Lance has always been gullible and it used to scare the shit out of him, because he would never know when they would appear and it would just — freak him out. All the time. Unless he checked his entire room once in the daytime before sleeping, he would never be able to fall asleep.

And he’s never fucking — told anyone about that. Because as a kid it was terrifying to say out loud and as he got older it was just embarrassing. But Keith knows, somehow.

Keith knows.

Lance exhales, air whistling sharply from between his teeth, “Whatever. Whatever. You know what? Whatever,” and stomps over to the elevator. “This is — I’m going to shower. And not think. I don’t — whatever.”

He stews the whole way up to his room. He stews as the key doesn’t fucking work in the slot until the fourth try. He stews as he yanks off his armour and flings it into a random corner, relishing in the heavy thud as it hits the wall, hoping it cracks. He stews as he angrily presses all the buttons in the shower and hops in, cussing as he’s assaulted with an onslaught of hot-cold-hot-cold-soap-soap-soap, aggressively blinking away the sting in his eye and cursing the very air molecules around him. He stews the entire fucking forty minute shower, although admittedly he does, by the ten minute mark, start to calm down a little.

By the time he steps onto the bathmat, he’s just — tired.

“Whatever,” he sighs to himself again, but this time it’s more weary than anything. “Just — I guess. Sure. Whatever.”

There’s a fancy complimentary robe folded neatly on the stack of towels. He swallows the lump in his throat, thinking of his beautiful blue one, now ashes with the rest of the castle.

“Whatever,” he repeats to himself, firmly. Eventually he manages to blink the tears away.

The walk to Keith’s room is short, and cold, and probably embarrassing, since he is in a robe and slippers and a twisty shower hat, but he’s too drained to care. Every step is heavy. By the time he manages to slide the key in the lock — this key cooperates, go fucking figure — and shove the heavy door open, he feels…precarious.

Fragile, maybe.

It takes one look from Keith, one flash of soft indigo eyes and bedsheets untucked and folded over like he likes them and a nightlight shining low on the side table, for him to simply burst into tears.

“It has been a long fucking day,” he sobs.

“It sure as shit has,” Keith agrees, opening his arms, and Lance doesn’t bother thinking before collapsing into them, curling into Keith’s lap and tucking under his chin. Keith grips him tightly and squeezes, and it feels so strangely familiar and so perfect that it’s simply too much for Lance to worry about. He does not have the energy. It’s just — too good, and he’s so tired, and if this is all a trick or a dream or anything like that then he’ll handle it in the fucking morning. Right now Keith is warm and he’s a real fucking person offering real fucking affection with absolutely zero strings attached, none of them, and Lance is allowed to have nice things, actually, it’s written right the in paladin handbook, he knows because he wrote it there himself.

He can just — have this one thing.

“Let’s just sleep for a few thousand years,” Keith says, and he sounds exhausted as Lance does.

And if this is a dream than there’s absolutely nothing to lose, and also whatever, truly, so Lance gives fully into every impulse he’s been too ashamed to even admit in his own head and leans up to kiss him squarely on the lips. He is warm and sweet and tastes like toothpaste, and he kisses back without a second of hesitation, and his hands cup the side of Lance’s face and his calloused thumb brushes across his cheekbones, and it’s everything Lance could ever want it to be, and it makes all the horrible everything melt away. So Lance says screw you, universe, and kisses him until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open, and then he tucks in next to him and relishes in his arm over his waist and falls asleep faster than he ever has in his life listening to Keith’s heartbeat.

This is where the situation starts.

———

based on this thread

[catsushinyakajima]

Keith/Lance | 7.1k words | No Archive Warnings | Fluff

“Kay, goodnight,” Keith said and then with a quieter voice, “Love you.”

He was out of Lance’s hold and into his apartment within a second. Lance didn’t have a moment to say anything before the door was shut and he was alone in the dingy corridor with nothing but Keith’s words ringing in his head.

-

A conversation cut short after a thanksgiving party leaves Lance spiraling as he figures out what's going to happen between him and Keith.

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

It's Just Pretend

Hi everyone :)

I'm going to be real with y'all, I am trying so hard to stay invested in this story but I don't particularly like how I've written it. I'm going to finish it, I don't feel like I've given y'all the best story and I'm sorry. But, I hope even despite its flaws it can be enjoyable

Chapter 9: Just Confess

AO3!

Chapter 8

First Chapter!

Word Count: 1,730

---

“And a bowl for you,” Hunk passed Lance a bowl as he took a seat on the chair next to the couch. Shay immediately sat on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Thanks, buddy,” Lance grabbed a couple of pieces of popcorn from the bowl, holding it out for Keith to take a handful. He mumbled a small thanks in return and everyone fell silent. Their eye on the screen. 

Lance had his arm on the back of the couch, basically having his arm around Keith. Who sat next to him, his arms crossed over his own chest. Keeping a distance between him and Lance. No one could really say what they were watching. Some random comedy horror movie. It was entertaining, funnier than scary.

Shay has become more tucked into Hunk as the movie droned on. Her chuckles softly as Hunk gently traces shapes into her back with his fingers. Lance had sunk down into the couch a bit more. Keith ever so slightly leaning into Lance’s side. His head found a home on Lance’s shoulder. 

The flash of a light. 

“Awe you two almost look like a couple!” Pidge turned their phone around, holding it up for the boys to see. 

Lance smiled, “awe we are cute. Keith look at us!” 

Keith scowled slightly at the photo, swatting Lance’s hand away when he reached over and gently pinched his cheek. 

“Awe you look cute. Don’t be so moody.” 

“I’m not as photogenic as you.” Keith averted his gaze from the group. Silently plotting how to get that photo from Pidge. 

Lance laughed, that stupid laugh. The laugh that made Keith’s cheeks heat up. The laugh that Keith would do anything to keep hearing no matter what. The laugh that Keith didn’t- no, couldn’t lose. God, he couldn’t lose Lance. 

“You’re attractive mullet. You’re just not used to seeing yourself.” Lance ruffled Keith’s hair, a small smile on his face. 

Keith didn’t know what to say and scooched himself away from Lance, forcing himself to look at the TV. His heart beating out of his chest. 

—

“Want some more?” Hunk held an almost empty bottle of wine towards Lance, a drunk smile on his face. 

“I shouldn’t but…” Lance trailed off. 

“But what?” Hunk pried in a playful manner. 

Lance laughed, “But fuck it! We’re on vacation!” He held his glass closer to his best friend and watched the red liquid fill the cup. 

Hunk put the nearly empty bottle down between the two of them and they fell into a silence. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Lance mumbled, his head titled toward the sky. 

“The moon?” Hunk mumbled back. 

Lance hummed, “hasn’t aged a day.” 

Hunk chuckled, “Still your first love?” He bumped his shoulder into Lances in a playful manner. 

“Haha, very funny. I should have never told you that.” Lance took a swig of his wine, Hunk doing the same. 

“Speaking of love,” Hunk lowered his voice to a whisper, keeping his voice between the two of them. Despite the closed window separating them from the outside and inside of the house. “How are you in that department.” 

Lance’s heart jumped from his chest into his throat and he did his best to swallow it down. “Oh you know,” he forced his eyes up. Looking at the stars twinkling above. “Pretty dry…but hey it won’t be like that forever.” He released a laugh, hoping Hunk didn’t hear the wetness behind it. 

“Lance?” Hunk whispered, his voice holding a knowing tone. 

Lance quickly downed his drink, hastily pointing to a set of stars, “That’s Orion's belt!” He belted out, cutting off anything Hunk was about to say. Missing the frown that fell on his best friend's face. 

“Yeah, I see it buddy.” 

The rest of the night passed in a blur and both of them climbed back into the house from the roof as the sun came up. Lance stumbled into his room as quietly as he could, freezing as soon as he saw Keith’s sleeping body. He found himself just standing there, watching. In hindsight, it was a creepy thing to do but he was drunk so he wasn’t thinking clearly. 

Lance finally stepped forward and crawled into bed next to his friend. Keith almost immediately pressed his face into Lance’s chest. 

Lance could only focus on his heart, pounding in his ears. He gently pushed a couple of strands of hair behind Keith’s ear, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him. 

Keith looked so peaceful, gentle, and safe. Lance had grown to truly love him. 

He loved him. 

Lance closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tighter around Keith; holding him. 

Feelings aside, he knew he had to start pulling back so Keith could find someone he actually liked. And Lance could move on. 

—

 “And a vanilla cone for you.” The gentleman with bright red hair and a middle lip piercing held out a napkin-wrapped cone toward Keith. 

“Thanks,” Keith stepped off to the side, letting Lance wait for his cone next. Pidge and Matt were nowhere to be found. Hunk and Shay were sitting on a bench if too the right, sharing a banna spit with each other. Shiro and Adam were having a debate on whether ice cream cones or milkshakes were better. A constant debate that Keith didn’t understand because they were both ice cream. 

He tried to focus on his own cone, ignoring the jealousy that turned in his gut. He wanted to be in love. He wanted to share a dessert with someone and have a dumb debate that didn’t lead to an argument. He wanted something real. 

But he knew he wanted Lance like that. 

He had been thinking more about it since his talk with Shiro on the hike. He liked Lance, that wasn’t a secret. He would even dare to say that they were very compatible in almost every department. He knew he didn’t want to ruin their friendship and he was terrified of telling Lance that he liked him. But what was the worst that could happen? Lance rejects him and they keep living their life? It might make the fake breakup easier to process and apply to real life. He couldn't lose Lance but he also couldn't drag himself through this fake love forever.

He frowned slightly, repeating what Shiro said in his mind. “You’re right, but I can see it in his face. He likes you, Keith. More than I think you realize. Hell, maybe even he realizes.” 

Shiro was usually right about things like that. He clocked that Adam liked him long before Adam even figured out that he was gay. He had almost a 6th sense when it came to feelings. So, maybe he should trust Shiro in this regard? 

He fought back a sigh, silently coming to the conclusion that when the 11th month of their fake relationship and lease hit, he would say something. He would finally confess. Even if he was scared, he was going to do it. 

Lance’s flustered laugh made its way through the air, breaking Keith from his internal monologue. 

His eyes snapped to his friend, his heart skipping a beat as soon as he registered what he was seeing. 

Lance was rubbing the back of his neck, a soft smile on his face, his head ever so slightly tilted to the left. 

Keith held his breath, unknowingly until his lungs ached. He stood there, unmoving. Not even registering the ice cream dripping onto his fingers. Just watching. Watching Lance and this, he shifted his eyes, mystery man talk. 

Maybe he could have heard what they were saying if he forced himself to focus. Or if he had been born with the ability to regulate his emotions like so many of his peers could do easily. Okay, he knew you weren’t born with that skill but the instructions to obtain it were unclear to him. 

Currently, Keith was imploding on the inside, which seemed dramatic but that stance said more to Keith than anything. That stance Lance was holding was his-

“Keith?” Shiro placed his hand on his shoulder, effectively forcing Keith to take a breath. Nearly choking on the action in the process. Shiro quickly moved Keith to a bench, making the action seem normal, and calculated. 

Adam pressed some napkins into Keith’s hand and took a seat next to Keith. 

“What’s going on buddy?” Shiro dropped his voice, keeping the conversation between the three of them. 

Keith swallowed around nothing, focusing on keeping himself calm and collected. “That stance.” He tried to nod his head toward Lance, unsure of how clear he made the action. 

“What? Lance wanted to leave the conversation?” Adam questioned. 

Keith shook his head, “No, I know that stance. That’s his…” he chewed on his lower lip briefly, “someone flirting with him' stance.” 

Shiro and Adam both made noises of acknowledgment. 

“Doesn’t mean he’s flirting back right? He’s a good-looking guy with attention issues,” Shiro joked. Trying to lighten the mood. 

Kieth wanted to agree, he was going to agree. Until the mystery man handed Lance his phone, which Lance too with a wide smile. His fingers flew across the screen. He gave the phone back with a wide grin and made his way towards Hunk, a small jump in his step. Seeming to be unaware of Keith and his obvious emotional turmoil. 

“Were you going to confess?” Adam took a swing of his milkshake and Kieth could feel Shiro’s eye-roll without looking at him. 

“Way to be subtle, Adam,” Shiro whispered harshly. 

“What? He’s a direct kid, it’s better to be direct. Right, Keith?” Adam shot back. 

“Uh yeah.” 

“Yeah to Adam’s question or yeah you were going to confess. 

Keith hesitated, “both.” 

“It’s not too late,” Adam said. “Flirting doesn’t mean you lose your chance.” 

“He gave him his number,” Keith said back. His brain trying to convince him to simply run away and never speak to Lance ever again. He didn't want to deal with these emotions. 

Adam shrugged, “maybe they bonded over something. Plus, Shiro has gotten plenty of numbers from people, it doesn’t mean anything.” 

Shiro hummed in agreement, “Sometimes it just is an ego boost.” 

“Okay,” Keith took a shaky breath, “I’ll still tell him. I just need time.” 

“You have time, just take it day by day.” 

“I’ll try.”

---

Unsure when the next update will be, won't be as long of a break as before. I work 7 days a week so I only have so much energy to write

Thank you for reading and the support <33333

[greyfix]

Children

Title: Children

Ship: Keith Kogane/Lance McClain

Summary: Keith and Lance are children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. At only 16 and 17 years old these children were made Paladins of Voltron, Blades of Marmora, Saviors of the Universe. Those weren’t titles meant for children.

Word Count:6.1k

Requested By: n/a

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Pining Lance, Lance is a mess, Insecure lance, Galra Keith, Keith is bad at feelings, Keith is a mess, Blade of Marmora Keith, Blade of Marmora, Naxzela, pining keith.

Author’s Note: listen, i know i never write anymore. But, shit happens you know? 

I’m taking requests and commissions again though so hopefully that will change, i have menus posted on my linktree. You can Instagram message me ( @greyfixx ) or email me (greyandemma@gmail.com) and i’d be happy to write your stories. Thanks guys!

Ao3, Tumblr

Lance wanders the castleship often now. He spends much more time walking around aimlessly than doing anything productive that’s for sure. Hunk and Pidge seemed as though they were always making some revolutionary advances. Always inventing something or tweaking something. Lance could never keep up. 

Allura seems as though she always has some diplomatic stuff to tend to with Shiro. If you asked Lance, he’d tell you that’s just an excuse so they can do whatever they do when they're alone. Plus, hanging out with Shiro is like, well it is, hanging out with your commanding officer. It’s hard for me to be comfortable.  He would hang out with Coran sometimes, helping with some of the castle maintenance. It almost reminded him of being back home doing the chores. He never thought chores would be something he missed. 

Still, when the lonely day was done,  he had to return to the cold sterile room. It was so lifeless. Despite the trinkets he’d collected from his travels strewn around the room, the lived in clutter, it still didn’t feel like his room, no matter how hard he tried. Pictures weren’t as prominent  in space, he’d noticed, at least not hard copies or for decoration in general. I guess they went completely digital a long time ago. So it wasn’t common for one to have photos of their family hung up around their homes. He wonders if people keep photos of their families outside of earth, or if it isn’t something people generally care about? For Lance, who’d spent his whole life surrounded by his siblings, it was so terribly lonely. Almost like living in a hospital room that never had a visitor.

So he slept in his cold white bed with his thin sheets and flat pillows. He wore his thin pajamas and the unreasonably comfy castle bathrobe. This was his new normal. His new home. He’s always been so grateful for his family, the original one, and the new ones he had created along the way. That’s what made him so sad, that he had a whole family here and he still felt alone. 

It wasn’t always like this. Lance suspected that they didn’t really have enough time to worry about it as things changed. Now, between battles, there is silence. What does the silence hold for the soldiers in the war? These are the thoughts that plagued Lance as he fell asleep.. There weren’t many sweet dreams on the other side of the unconscious curtain waiting for him. 

This is how he had felt since Keith had left. On the outside they seemed to be all bitter arguments, competitive bravado, and rivalry. They both knew though, that on the inside, they were closer than anyone else on the team. And that was their business. Their banter was just that, banter. It only takes a little bit of care to see the flirting smiles and friendly wrestling through the veil. When the fighting is done and it’s time for the brains behind the scenes, Keith and Lance learned to stay out of the way. They weren’t geniuses, or commanders, or Royalty. This wasn’t their job.

Each evening he spends longing for the company he wishes he had. He wishes for just one night things could be back the way they were. He wishes that if he does have to be lonely, he shouldn’t have to be the only one. . He considers it. He also considers the embarrassment of it. Calling the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to talk to his friend because he misses him? They’ll laugh and hang up. Probably give Keith shit for it, and i don’t want to mess things up for him. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to be doing more with our time than talking to our friends on secure military lines.

He accepts his fate. 

Though it may be silent between battles, for those who are much more than soldiers it was time to make a lot of noise.. Building a good public image. Recruiting to the cause. Diplomacy, gaining allies. Creating a Coalition.. Coran had them traveling to a new planet each and every day putting on shows and meeting people. Selling Voltron. 

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. Just a script reading here and there, and Lance always loved Drama as a kid, so he was more than happy to comply. It felt like filming a cheesy TV commercial, and it was fun. Over time, as the audience got larger and larger, Coran got more intense. Their characters became perverted versions of themselves. Lance was now “Loverboy Lance.” He was nothing but a good looking airhead. There wasn’t anything more to him than his ability to get laid everywhere he goes. Because that’s all it takes to be a Paladin of Voltron, apparently. 

Coran had become increasingly erratic. He’s talking differently, and twitches everywhere he goes. He’s taking dangerous risks, not only with diplomacy but with their safety.

Lance was starting to believe that that’s who he was. Maybe he is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet. He isn’t anything but who they believe he is. Loverboy. What is a loverboy without love? Just a boy. Just a boy in a play. Just a boy with the weight of the world in his universe. Just a boy. Alone. In a hospital room. 

When Lance realized that the pressure of being a part of this war drove Coran to believe he needed a brain worm to do the right thing or to be good enough. Coran, the purest being on this ship, resorted to drugs to be as good as everyone else. Lance knew he was lonely too. He wanted it to stop, because though he didn’t care too much about himself, he certainly cared about his family. 

So Lance grew angry. He was so angry all the time that his family was diminished into nothing but comic book characters. His best friend is depicted as nothing other than comedic flatulence. Pidge rendered a fraud who uses fake words. They aren’t recognized as the amazing scientists they truly are. They should be. Keith. He made Keith all angry and lonely. Can’t he see, that’s not who Keith is. 

Keith has raw power and talent. He’s the potential to do something amazing for the world. He’s an anomaly and he is so important. There is no one more important than him. 

Lance is the one filled with anger and sadness and loneliness. 

Keith is hopeful. 

And things keep piling on. He is lonely. He is sad. He is angry. And Hope is gone. 

Laying on his gurney in his cold hospital room, in his magical alien castle, Lance picked up his space tablet and dialed the space number for the secret space soldiers. 

DIAL

Lance called the Blade of Marmora’s direct communications line. 

“State your Business.” Spoke a dark gravelly voice. 

“I’m Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I’m calling to speak to Keith Kogane? The red Paladin of Voltron?” He was shaking. This is pathetic. How could he be doing this right now, there’s no way Keith would want to talk to him. He’s probably got a bunch of new muscle-y galra friends.  

“Should I provide you with his direct communications line?”

Lance froze for a moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to call Keith? Why would the Blade stop him from communicating with his Paladins? That would be ridiculous. “Um yeah, yes please, that would be great, um, yeah.” He stammered out in rapid succession. 

He rattles off a bunch of numbers and symbols that Lance makes sure to write down before speaking again. “Will that be all?” 

“Um yes, thank you so–” 

Beep. 

He hung up on me!!

Once he got over the scandal that was the rudeness of what could only be referred to as the ‘galra receptionist,’ he sat in silence for a while. He stared at the string of numbers and symbols. “Keith’s Direct Communications line.” He doesn’t really know what stopped him from getting it before. 

It wasn’t long before he typed the number into his tablet.

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

He hit the flashing dial button before he could talk himself out of it.. Inter-Galaxy phone calls didn’t have a dial tone like on earth. There’s a loading screen. If the person you’re calling hasn’t answered by the time the circle is filled, the signal will be canceled and the call will drop. Messages can be sent as well but it wasn’t customary to have your tablet on you at all times, as it would be with a phone on earth. It’s more like having an I-Pad instead of a phone. If you really wanted a response it was best to call.

The circle is barely filled in when the screen explodes in color. It was Keith. His brows furrowed and lips pursed for a moment, until his eyes widened and his teeth showed. He smiled. That wasn’t at all what Lance was expecting.

“Hey, Keith. It’s been a minute.” His voice wavers as he speaks.

“No shit! Is everything okay? You’ve never called before-” he started to look concerned again. 

“No! No not at all…” He trailed off. He knew if he said this he would never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want to start the call on such a negative note. He went with what can be interpreted positively.. “I missed you man. It’s lonely around here when you’re gone.” 

Keith laughed. When he caught Lance’s eyes and realized that he wasn’t smiling with him, his face dropped. “You don’t mean that?” 

“Of course I do. Everyone here is so much smarter and more important than me. I hang around on my own most of the time.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the lone wolf. You’re usually a social butterfly.” 

“Everyone’s so busy I don't want to bother them.” 

“Well I haven't changed from my lonely ways, so you must annoy me like the butterfly you are.” 

“...What?” Lance held back his laughter. 

“Shut up.” 

“The butterfly I am.” The smile seeped through and before he knew it the both of them had dissolved into hysterics. 

“Shut up. I missed you too. I don’t exactly fit in here.” 

Before Keith could get another ‘shut up’ out Lance teased,“Are you sure it isn’t just because you aren’t purple?” 

“I’m pretty sure that was a little bit space racist.”

Lance gasped. 

They talked for hours upon hours. They smiled and laughed until they felt their cheeks go raw and their abs get sore. They talked until their faces turned stoick and they had run out of good things to talk about. They talk until things get serious, and then they keep talking. 

Keith tells Lance how he feels worthless because he has always been a prodigy at the things the BoM excel at. The things that Earth doesn’t hold as honor the way the Galra do. Now, he’s nothing special. 

Lance tells Keith how he feels like he’s been deluding himself into thinking he belongs. He tells him how he doesn’t believe he’s a true Paladin, and that he’s probably just a placeholder for him or Allura. That the persona that the public has for him as ‘Loverboy’ is so entirely impossible because the only person he loves is so far away that he can’t even tell him that every day. 

They talk about how lonely they are. And they promise each other that though things can never be perfect, they will always keep each other company. 

However, as many hours as they wish they could spend together, everything comes to an end. Keith has private training early in the mornings and the Castleship will be landing in a different timezone. So for Lance, first thing in the morning is about 4 in the afternoon (If you think about earth time, measurements are fine and dandy in altean, but dates are hell.)  and he has to go straight to a diplomatic dinner party. 

They say their goodbyes, and part with smiles on their faces. 

When Lance turns over on his bed, his pillow is wet until the morning. Or 4 O’Clock in the alien planet’s evening He wakes up sore from his hiccupping breaths and dry from the salt on his skin. 

Keith on the other hand forces himself to fall asleep immediately. When he wakes up he throws himself into training. He doesn’t apologize to himself or anyone else for the extra bruises he cost that morning. Anyone who spoke to him was met with a scathing comment about their mother. Most stood clear of him that day. 

That night was too good to be true. 

They spend months in this circle of suffering. Each day they would spend in anticipation of the joy they would feel when they saw each other. By the time they are able to get on the phone, they can’t stop smiling. 

The joy lasts for a while. For a few hours. But every night the call has to end. Every night they have to say goodbye again. Every night they come crashing down from their high. They are hit with the weight of the various crises and the pressure only increases with the added emotions. At the end of the call, they have to say goodbye. Every night. 

And I can't even say I Love You.

For Lance, the worst part is that no one noticed. He spent his days finally in a better mood, and his friends weren’t phased. It was such a dramatic change, how could a friend not notice the smiles that had grown so scarce. How could they not notice the bags under his eyes were gone, and he was no longer covered in bruises from his early morning training bot sessions. He felt so much better yet to his friends it was as though nothing had changed. Or they didn’t care to notice. 

The Blade of Marmora was absolutely baffled by Keith’s change. Though Keith was much better at hiding it, he had learned in his months spent with the Blade that Galra rely on their sense of smell for this kind of thing much more than they would rely on their interpretation of body language. Pheromones change and there is nothing you can do about it. The Galra use it to communicate, though generally in passing the smell is like hearing the hum of conversation in a large crowd. 

He didn't notice it at first. He thought he was imagining the stares he could feel grazing the back of his neck. It took one of the other people in his training group giving him shit to realize it. 

“You need to learn how to keep your scent under control..” 

“... What?”

“You’re scent. We can all tell you’re excited or anticipating, or whatever, you don’t need to broadcast it, have a little control.” 

“What do you mean by my scent? You’re sniffing me??”

“Dude what?” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha very funny. Just keep it to yourself man.”” 

“Seriously, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m a little bit concerned because on earth we don’t exactly make a habit of smelling each other.”” 

“Earth?” 

“Yeah? Haven’t you noticed I'm not exactly purple?”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn't realize you were from the middle of nowhere. I’ve never even heard of that country.” 

“It’s a planet.”

Keith could tell that he is holding back his laughter now. 

“The Empire hasn’t gotten as far as my planet yet, so I didn't know I was part galra until very recently.  

“I don’t know if i’m the person to explain it to you, i don’t have the greatest understanding of it myself either.”

“Just tell me before someone else does.”

“I think it’s like pheromones? We can smell the hormones and the smell changes with your emotions.”

Keith sighed,  before stalking back off to his room. This was the first time he contacted Lance during the day. 

Keith: I just found out galra can sense pheromones. 

Lance: You wut?

Keith: Apparently depending on our emotions we smell different.

Lance: Can you? Smell emotions?

Keith: I never thought about it. I definitely smell a lot more than humans can. One of the Blades told me that most galra learn to control it. Maybe humans don’t emit strong enough pheromones for me to smell. 

Lance: Is it like, rude to have emotions? 

Keith: I wouldn’t be surprised. Galra never seemed like a race of emotionally sensitive people. 

There were invisible boundaries. To keep them from having too much hope, too much happiness. At first the boundary was just speaking to each other in general, because of course they couldn’t be happy together if they weren’t together. 

Lance, evidently, broke that one. Keith wished it were never there in the first place. 

Keith was the one to break the next boundary and Lance was overjoyed. He kept his tablet on him at all times, though he was careful not to let anyone see. He wanted to keep this to himself. Just for now. 

Each time he got a message from Keith, he had to force himself to not smile. It was becoming a problem. At least for a while. 

Soon, not only were the nights terrible, but the days became just as painful. The light drains out of the both of them as they no longer spend their days in excitement to speak to each other but in increasing agony over their distance. Their feelings for eachother grow larger and stronger. So strong that every moment they aren’t allowed to feel it hurts more. 

They lose the time to talk. The war is becoming back to back battles once again. Manpower is needed more than ever so not only is Voltron busy, but so is the Blade. The Coalition is a lot, but there is only so much. It’s difficult to organize universe wide diplomatic meetings, even for Allura.

The lows that follow leaving each other bleed into the days when no time can be found to speak. They bleed into the days where all that can be spoken of us ugly. The days of war. Of death. Of sacrifice. The days where the fight for freedom goes on and the soldiers grow weary. 

Still the same problems prevailed. Lance’s turmoil continued to go unnoticed. He continued to be invisible in his own home amongst his own family. 

Keith longed for his family. For Lance. He wished he could be with them. He wished so hard that it was very apparent to anyone who had a sense of smell worth their salt knew. He was now considered a flight risk. This he scoffed at. As if I’d leave all of you to die just to go home. That’s the catch. His love for his family and his refusal to allow lives to be lost to an empire as vial as Zarkons. He won’t abandon the war, not even for his own happiness. 

Then the day comes. There is a planet called Naxzela. It’s primarily a military outpost for the empire. If the Coalition is able to take and free Naxzela from Empire control, they will have gained control of a third of the Galran Empire. 

The entire Coalition is gathered, doing their best to stop the Empire, around a planet called Naxzela. They fight with everything they have. Every second, someone dies. Every second a ship falls from the sky, not only on their side, but on the Coalition's side as well. 

Voltron is on that planet. Keith’s family is on that planet. Lance is on that planet. Keith fights harder. Another ship drops from the sky. Another. Another. Another. Another. 

Voltron returns. Alive. That’s the good news though, an when it comes to war, it never outweighs the bad. They come back with information. They say the planet had been habitable only because of Altean terraforming technology. Haggar had tapped into this technology and turned the planet into a bomb. The battleship is the detonator. Both the planet and the ship are protected by shields. 

The whole Coalition opens fire. 

Not a scratch. 

“Maybe not with our weapons.” 

Keith takes off, dodging the lasers he soars directly towards the battleship. If our weapons can’t take down the shields, we need something more. The full force of a Blade of Marmora fighter ship just might work. 

If i don’t succeed we will all die. At least this way only one of us is gone. At least this way the pain will go away. 

He didn’t close his eyes as he approached his death. He wasn’t afraid. He knew this was the right thing to do. He chose this, he would not shy away from it. So he looked right at the thin purple glow that would be the end of him. He stared and confronted his death. The veil blinked out of existence.

He jerked the ship away and went sailing just by the edge of the ship. He had stopped listening to the commotion on his audio comm. It was time to tune back in. 

Lotor. 

Lotor had saved his life. 

After the battle, Keith finally was able to return to the Castleship. To return home. Immediately when he steps off his ship a force knocks into him and he nearly topples him over. It’s so warm. He can smell him. He really is home. 

“You fucking idiot!” Anyone could tell that Lance is screaming, despite the fact that he’s muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “How dare you.” 

Keith doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know which words to choose. He is so happy and so sad. So he is quiet. 

He is quiet and so is Lance as they walk to the infirmary. They ignore the aftermath of the battle. They ignore the Paladins, the rebels, the Blades. They ignore anyone trying to get their attention. Hand in hand, they are the silence between the battles. Lance's eyes are soft when the pod closes. Keith is glad that is the last thing he sees before falling into a deep sleep. 

It is three days before he leaves the pod. Lance waits there in the infirmary the whole time. Coran says that most of his injuries weren’t from the battle. There were minor bruises, sprains, even some fractures from weeks past littered across his body. 

Lance waits for three days and he doesn’t say a word to anyone besides Coran when he’s questioning after Keith’s progress.  Even then his speech is limited. This is when his family finally notices they’ve missed something. 

Over these three days Lance practically moves in. One of the gurneys is claimed as his. The white floors are littered with the tissues he hasn’t bothered to pick up. The bowls and spoons he used for the occasional food goo have created a pile in the corner. There are five blankets. Two on Lance’s gurney (he’d always thought they were too thin) and three laying on the floor just by Keith’s pod. One to lay on, two to keep him warm when he sleeps on the cold white metal. 

He spent a lot of time thinking, while he waited. He thought about a lot of things. Mainly how he almost lost Keith. He almost lost Keith before he was even able to tell him how he truly feels. He spent a lot of this time regretting. He regretted not telling him the most. They both knew. They knew their lives were on the line and they made that their reason to live in fear. They chose that as their reason to not take responsibility for themselves, their reason to run from their own feelings, their reason to punish themselves.

This is war. Lance realized. This is war, and I am brave enough to be fighting it. I should be allowed to love before I die.. Especially if I'm risking my life for theirs. To make sure they don’t have to. If I die out here I don't want to die in regret, never having lived my truth. 

The fourth morning he laid awake on his blankets staring up at Keith. He didn’t look ill at all anymore. He must be almost completely healed by now, he looked just like the Keith that had left. Almost. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He joked about it being a mullet before, but now it was more than long enough to be braided. He wished he could, it was something he did for his sisters back home. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the electronic schwooop of the pod-shield lowering. He doesn’t have time to get up on his feet before Keith is toppling down. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Lance says immediately, when Keith falls into his arms. He holds him tightly. It isn’t long before Keith does the same. They both know that Coran and Allura would have been alerted to Keith’s discharge from the pod and would be heading down to check on him. They took the time they had alone to hold onto each other. 

“Is this real?” Keith asks, his voice is so meek. So thin and quiet. 

“Yes, my love. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Keith melts into Lance's arms. “I’m home?” 

“You’re home.” 

They hear footsteps outside the infirmary door before they see anyone. They aren’t surprised to see the whole team walk in. They would all want to see Keith when he was better. Lance wasn’t the only one who had missed him. He was family.It would be wrong if they didn’t want to see him after the stunt he’d pulled either.  

Shiro is the first to stalk into the room, with his big muscular body and his big powerful steps. “What the hell is going on here Lance? You’ve been uncollaborative and disrespectful for long enough. It ends now.” He shouts in his best commanding officer voice. 

Keith flinches. Lance squeezes him for a moment, before standing up. “You lost your right to give me orders. If i’ve been ‘uncollaborative and disrespectful’ then it’s obviously been a long time since you’ve looked in a mirror. Especially when your reaction to seeing your brother for the first time in months fall out of a pod because he nearly killed himself.” 

Shiro opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off. This time it is Coran. 

“I think he’s right, Shiro.” His voice is tense and serious. This never happens. “Let the boy speak.” 

Lance almost smiled. It seemed, recently, that Coran was the only one who truly cared. At the very least, he understood. 

“Keith almost dies, and your reaction when he comes out of a pod, three days later probably still coming down from an adrenaline high not only from his near death experience but from the drugs that pod pumped him full of. Your brother comes home from zero contact and your reaction is to storm in and make demands?” Lance speaks to his family. He speaks to his family in a situation other than battle for the first time in weeks. Months. “You really think you’re the one who deserves answers?” 

Lance kneels next to Keith once again. “You need food, water, and to relax.” His voice was soft now. “Do you want to go back to the bedrooms and wait for me there?”

Keith stands up. “I’m going to stay here. With you.” Same old Keith he sounds like. Only Lance could hear the slight quiver in his voice. 

“Lance?” Hunk spoke, concerned, “Buddy, what’s going on? What are we missing?” 

Lance almost laughed. It was a surprise to him. He hadn’t smiled without Keith in a long time. This wasn’t the context he wanted that to happen under. “What have I been doing?” He said decidedly.

Hunk looked confused. 

“What do you mean by that?” Pidge. 

“These last few months. What. Have. I Been. Doing>”

“The same as the rest of us.” Pidge spoke in that matter of fact way of hers.

“Yeah, you helped with the performances. You're loverboy Lance!”

“Exactly. I was Loverboy Lance. That explains so much.” Lance decides that they won’t ever realize on their own. He must open their eyes himself. He must be the one to hurt them. “When have you ever seen me do more than flirt with someone? When was the last time I went home with one, or brought one here? Hell, when was the last time I went on a date?” 

Silence. 

“I flirt. I sign autographs, I joke, and I tease. I have never been a player. I’ve never been Loverboy Lance, not in the way we showed the public. That’s not who I am. Just the same as any of you. Hunk, you are so much more than comedic flatulence, Pidge you aren’t a fraud you’re a genius and you know enough words to fill the script with that the audience will go home knowing how to turn their garbage disposal into a roomba. Allura, you’re your own Paladin, not Keith and there are so many amazing things about you that would make you just as interesting as Keith. 

“Keith isn’t the Lone Wolf. He’s just lonely, he always has been. None of us ever pur in the effort to change that, so why would he in return?” Lance turned to Hunk. “You were my best friend, Hunk, and this hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that you can’t see me for who I really am. I look at all of you and see my family and then I wonder, where did you go?” 

“I spent these last few months in Silence. I knew I wasn't good enough to keep up with you Pidge, Hunk. So I stayed away. I knew I would never live up to your expectations, Shiro, so I didn't bother with you either. I knew you didn’t want me around Allura, so I didn't stick around. I knew i would be left behind. 

“Eventually I stopped speaking.”

Lance stopped then. He took a deep breath. “None of you noticed. My own family had made me feel as though I didn't belong, and so I stopped belonging. Of course you guys were so caught up in being amazing that you didn’t notice. That much I don't care about. This is what is important. 

“How old are you, Pidge?” 

“I’m fifteen, you know that.” 

“Hunk?”

“17.” 

“Back on earth, none of us would be considered an adult. We wouldn’t be allowed to go through the airport alone. We wouldn’t be allowed to buy alcohol. We wouldn’t be allowed to have an input in our government. We would be children. 

“Here, on this ship, far away from our planet. We are war heros. We live in a castle that doubles as a spaceship, or a spaceship that doubles as a castle, and we are Paladins. We fight in battles on a larger scale than any one of our ancestors have ever fought in. We are soldiers.” 

Lance could feel the tears streaming down his face. “More importantly though, we are children.” 

Lance stalked out of the room. 

Keith followed. Even when he’d caught up, Lance didn’t slow down. He was sobbing now. Just like he had each night when they ended their calls. This time, however, Keith was there. This time he could intertwine their fingers. “Lance.” 

When they finally arrived at Lance's bedroom, hospital room, whichever you prefer it’s all the same to him,they both sat up on the bed. Keith held Lance as he cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried. They didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that they were together. Between the sobs Keith could hear Lance mumble something just clearly enough to respond. 

“I love you too.” 

Lance looked up, those deep blue eyes so sad and so afraid, yet so full of hope. He looked intensely at Keith. “We are just children, I did mean what I said back there. We could die at any moment. I don’t want to let that stop us anymore.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I love you Keith, and I don't want to live my life in fear of losing you. I want to use the time we have. This war would last the rest of our lives, whether they end early or decades from now. Why should we waste it?” 

Keith had never thought of it that way. He had let the thought of losing Lance consume him so deeply that he’d never thought of how it might feel to have him fully. “You’re right.” 

“I want to be with you. At this point I think it’s hurting us more to stay apart than it would to be together. Well I guess it’s hurting me, I can't really speak for you – Wait what did you say?” 

“I said you’re right. We should take advantage of the time we have.” 

Lance was speechless. 

“If you leave your mouth open any longer you might catch flies. I told you you were right, don’t get used to it.” 

Lance had been a man of words all night. He was sick of it. He grabbed onto Keith’s jawline and pulled his lips toward his own. He was so warm, like fire against his skin as they kissed. They’d been playing this game for so long. The kiss was the greatest thing Lance had ever experienced, or at least it felt like it in that moment. They kissed for a long time. Longer than they should. 

It was Keith that finally broke the kiss. He only broke away for a moment, before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder. 

“We have to talk about it, you know.” 

“Not now. You make me so happy. I just want to be happy right now. It’s been so long since I've been happy.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy. That’s our mission from now on. Happiness.” 

They spent the night in Lance's room. They took their last opportunity to relax. After everything that has happened, not only over the course of the last few hours, but over the course of the last few days, weeks, months. They deserve peace, even if only for a moment. 

The next morning they walked out to breakfast hand in hand. They had a calm conversation with their team. With their family. They spoke about how they felt so alone. They spoke about how they’ve spent so long being too afraid of  death to love each other. They spoke about how they are so scared all the time, but never scared for themselves. They would all die for the cause at a moment’s notice, but they still feared the death of their friends and family. 

Everyone shared how they felt, not only Lance and Keith. Pidge shared how scared she was. She was so young. Hunk shared how he felt so guilty for being the cowardly one, and wishes he could be brave like the rest of the Paladins. Allura tells them how she believes that she is only a Paladin because of her father, as though it was some sort of obligation. Shiro expressed that he was so afraid he wasn’t qualified to be the leather of a universal revolution. Coran worries he isn’t useful. 

They all feel so alone. So isolated that they couldn’t find comfort in their own family. 

They came to an understanding. Allura and Shiro, and Coran realized they were wrong for putting so much pressure on a bunch of teenagers that didn’t know what they were getting into. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all realized that they didn’t have to pretend to be braver than they were. 

Especially because they were the bravest in the universe. 

Even war heroes are allowed to have a weakness. 

Especially if they’re children.

[heynhay]

do u guuys remember how huge lovebug was. back in ye days.

[deckoftrickcards]

they are at shiros wedding… lance is plotting something devious… keith wants him… badly…. IDFK FML

[makkis-meanderings]

I grew up being gaslit and queerbaited by media, now you're trying to tell me that I shouldn't be filtering AO3 by >10,000 words, angst, hurt/comfort, canon divergence, pining??

what do you want from me fr??

[hypfden]

Let it be summer!!! NOW!! (Ft lance in his natural element)

I’m never gonna stop drawing the one sided* pining. It’s all I have plz and thank you

I’m not drawing sand imagine that they are in a beach

[sonixcx]

Nobody:

Klance fanfic authors: DID SOMEBODY SAY MUTUAL PINING

[lightcassian]

"Why are people shipping everything now!" Newsflash asshole! People shipping non-canon ships has been going on for a while. Hell, people have been shipping characters, not even from the same universe! And it's always on a Itafushi post or on another gay ship post. Like my god, get a hobby if you don't like the ship, don't comment, just scroll or hey, what about not being fucking homophobic. The block button exists for a reason. You don't have to share your backhanded comments or your pathetic whining on how a certain character isn't gay.

[autisticlancemcclain]

this is how it started

———

This is how it continues: Keith holds his hand all the way to breakfast.

In itself not incriminating. Lance holds Hunk’s hand all the time. He’s always got an arm around Pidge’s shoulder. Shiro is amused by Lance’s incessant attempts to have them skip about with their arms linked. Sometimes he offers his arm to Allura with the poshest expression he can muster, just to make her laugh. Not all of his attempts are entertained by his friends, of course, but there’s nothing novel about Lance attaching himself to people as they move about.

Keith reaching out, as they walk out of the bedroom they just shared, and linking their hands together easy as pie is, however, novel.

Everything is so bizarre. It’s worsened, really, after a night of decent sleep (in a real genuine mattress!), because it’s just not what Keith and Lance…do. They race each other to doorways, yanking on hoods or sticking out legs to trip and get ahead. They escalate from light shoving to full on wrestling in the middle of conversations. Keith is not exempt from Lance’s constant need to touch, sure, but it’s never — like this. Light, easy, comfortable, familiar.

(It was, briefly, at the end. When on their way to meetings and briefings and missions even Keith’s hand would rest on the small of Lance’s back. Absentmindedly. Unnoticeable. But a he left a week after it started, and as far as he’s concerned anything started in that era has long since been left behind them.)

They’re late — the rest of the team has already gathered. Pidge and Allura are half asleep on either of Shiro’s shoulders, and Coran and Hunk are arguing intensely but playfully about a pile of unrecognisable goo that Lance has learned to recognise as the space version of oatmeal. Hunk pokes it in disgust. Coran feigns outrage.

All five faces turn to them as they approach, and Lance can’t place a single one of their expressions. He is made suddenly aware that he has loosened his grip on Keith’s hand when he feels him squeeze three times, quickly in succession.

“…Huh,” Shiro says after a moment, eyes trained on their clasped fingers. His face is carefully blank. No one else offers any commentary.

“How’d y’all sleep,” Keith asks, pulling out a chair. Lance realizes after a beat that it’s meant for him, and he flushes up to his ears. He tugs his hood over his head and nearly upends the table in his haste to melt into the offered chair. Keith, in contrast, sits down next to him and rests an arm over the back of Lance’s chair so smoothly it has to be practiced.

Pidge makes a choking noise, cheeks puffed up like she barely managed to keep her mouth shut. Hunk has both hands clapped over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lance hisses, face redder than his lion.

Keith’s fingers brush his shoulder. He sinks further into his chair and tugs his hood down lower.

“I slept exceptionally,” Allura says loudly. The look she cuts Lance’s way is straight-up evil, and Lance knows what’s coming, and for several agonizing seconds he considers grabbing the spoon from the goo bowl and stabbing it straight through his eye. “The beds were very comfortable, didn’t you find, Keith?”

You are so dead to me, Lance thinks at her. He even thinks i’m in Altean so the fury can reach her properly.

“Yeah.” Keith leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. Lance’s face gets exponentially redder, and the peanut gallery starts screeching quietly, but despite himself he — leans. Into it. And Keith notices, because his mouth curves into a smile, and he presses another kiss to the curve of Lance’s jaw before pulling away. “Slept right for the first time in two years.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Shiro says, reminding Lance once again that he is, in fact, Lance’s hero, actually, last few months notwithstanding. He shoots Lance a fond, teasing smile, then turns back to Keith. “My question is: what the fuck?”

“Seconded,” Pidge agrees through a mouthful of goo.

Hunk grimaces at her. She shoves three more bites of goo into her mouth then opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue at the yellow paladin, just to be disgusting. With a scandalized “gross, Pidge!” Hunk shoves chair away and marches to the other side of the table, leaving Pidge sniggering.

Keith watches the whole thing with a smile on his face soaked in so much sadness Lance’s chest physically aches with it. He darts out a hand and wraps it around Keith’s, squeezing it in a mirror of the way he did before. Keith smiles gratefully at him, pulling up his hand and kissing the back of it. Somewhere, Lance hears someone mutter: “Christ alive.”

“There was a — shipwreck, of sorts,” Keith explains eventually. His voice is soft. “Krolia and I flew too close to something. Our intel was outdated. When we finally made it out of the wreckage we were stranded on the back of a space whale, and time was…stretchy.”

“That explains so very little,” Shiro says, shaking his head. He stabs his spoon in some goo. “Space has done little but piss me off in the last couple years, if I’m being honest. Keith, I swear to God I’m going to ground you.”

Keith grins. “Fat chance, old man. I outrank you now.”

“That’s what you think.”

Lance watches them both critically as they argue. Well, ‘argue’. They’re both grinning too hard for any real animosity. And exhaustion still lines Shiro’s features, and he still leans onto Allura for support, but there’s a brightness in his eyes that’s been missing for months. And Keith is —

Keith is here, leaping to his feet, spoon of goo bared dramatically, and he is tired too but he is warm and soft, somehow, and the weight that Lance has always watched on his shoulders seems to have lifted. There is an easiness to him now that there wasn’t before. And Lance notices and cannot stop noticing, because he is beautiful, and because for some reason he has decided to plant himself next to Lance, closer than before, and bleed his warmth. And Lance is supposed to be the lighthearted one and the joking one and the easy one. That is his role. That is what he knows how to play.

But he’s been struggling. And the role has not come easy. And last night he had cried until he slept in Keith’s arms and Keith had held him and checked the room and kissed his hair and has yet to let go of him.

Lance looks at Keith and thinks to himself: maybe just this one thing.

Keith reaches half over the table and musses his brother’s hair, pushing him back into Allura’s careful hold and sitting heavily back in his own seat. He frowns, staring at the space that has grown between his chair and Lance’s during his roughhousing. Slowly, he reaches over and grabs the bottom rung of Lance’s chair, dragging him over until the space between them has disappeared, then he nods once to himself, satisfied, and throws an arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him even closer.

And Lance thinks to himself: oh, God.

For a moment Lance is tense. He feels the stares of the rest of the team, teasing and interrogating all at once. He can already anticipate their questions, probably on par with his own.

Keith rests his cheek on top of Lance’s head.

“You good?”

Suddenly, none of that seems to matter. He thinks to himself: I need to sit him down and ask what the hell is going on.

Keith’s thumb starts to gently brush back and forth on the cusp of his shoulder.

He says: “I am now.”

This is how he lets it continue.

———

this is how it ends

[gayerthanyoulleverbe]

Me and my friend @menaathena made kin lists today and I got absoloutely DRAGGED.

Anyway it was all in good fun go check out her artwork she fucking rocks

[jajanvm-imbi]

Updated Kin List 🫣🫡

I'm beginning to to notice a pattern here, but I'm not sure what it is

[0xy--m0r0n]

ty @numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit for the wonderful stock image that i used as ref for this

i just. felt like it worked.

also i was super tired while drawing this so its not. super detailed. idk

[heynhay]

for if I am not yours, what am I?

[salmonwentmissing]

Here's a little klance idea:

Lance sets up a blog in the early times of Voltron with the help of Coran, and during his time he writes pretty personal stuff on it and posts it into the void. He's got like 33 followers, which isnt a lot but its nice to have his thoughts heard.

At some point during dinner, Allura talks about their reach w the coalition, and he lets it slip that he blogs and maybe that will help to boost the reach, and when Allura asks how many followers he has, he says just that. 33.

Hunk and the gang gets nosy and searches it up to read, and Allura stops dead in the tracks.

"Lance this isn't 33 followers." He's like "Yeah it is? Obviously it's 33, maybe 3 'cause why are there decimals to the number? They don't comment so it's pretty useless."

"No this isn't 33. It's 3 point 3."

"What, people?"

"Billions."

Everyone goes quiet, all staring at Lance until Hunk screams. "BILLIONS?!"

"Is THAT what that altean sign is?!" Lance gasps and points to the billion sign in altean.

Coran enters, learns about the blog and follower numbers, and just goes "Great job! You did better than I expected!"

Allura is astonished and crosschecking the reach between Lances stupid blog and the coalition's own numbers.

"You're double our numbers!" She gasps.

Hunk and Pidge are rummaging through his blog, looking for info and crumbs and embarrasments.

Keith is being silent and not looking into it, only eating his dinner while eyeing everyone else.

"You honestly thought you only had 33 followers?" He asks.

"Well duh! Nobody left comments and were silent, so ofc course I didn't think there were many."

"Well that's because I put your blog on locked comments, just in case you get space haters." Coran commented.

Aha, they all thought to themselves.

Lance only now remembered how personal some of his posts were, and immediately grabbed his phone to delete certain posts.

Ofc Hunk catches on, looks over his shoulder and yells out the names of the posts, one of them being "Mullet". Keith looks at him, finally.

"Really? You trashtalked me on your blog? That's low, even for you."

Lance is pretty flustered by this, but tries to spit back.

Turns out, Keith had been one of his first followers and already knew about all this. Was he good at being supportive in any way with words? No, absolutely not. Had he screenshotted the blogpost about him and kept a printed version of it under his bed?

Maybe.