Chapter Text
He paces in circles; long winding journeys to nowhere, as with a ship this size, he can pace for hours to escape his roaring mind. But eventually, Lance just stops thinking. His mind bolts up the gates tight and fast against the full onslaught of hurt that’s about to torrent through him.
It does this now, since he’s seen too many ships full of bodies, killed Galra by the hundreds, been too late to rescue nations and planets from a centuries-old conflict. It hides away the pain until it leaks, drop by drop, into a puddle of more manageable size at times when Lance is alone and there are no distractions from his grief and fear.
It comes in handy in moments like this, he supposes, as a familiar numbness sets it, gluing together the shattered pieces inside him, holding him up at least for the time being. As his mind becomes vacant, his body kicks in, so he showers and changes on autopilot before making his way to the dining room.
Allura, Hunk, and Shiro are there, and Lance waves in greeting as he makes his way in. Hunk immediately passes him a bowl of what looks like fruit and yogurt, which even through his haze, surprises him.
“We’re using some of the gifts, those we know are from planets who can spare them. Looks like no more goo for a while!” Hunk says, the pure joy in his voice so clear and childlike, that it dredges up a smile from the depths of Lance’s brain.
He dutifully begins eating, although tasting seems to come in waves between nothingness. He knows it’s good since it renews him in ways which goo can never do, and his taste buds are practically rioting at the sweet and citrus flavours. But it's also being absorbed into the barrier his mind is shaking to hold onto while he’s not ready to deal with the aftermath of the past few days.
“Where’s Keith?” Shiro asks as he comes back to the table with what Lance assumes is his second helping.
“Training,” Lance says, voice clear and seeming to echo in his own mind.
Allura looks up from reading lines of a language Lance doesn’t recognise. “Is that wise? You mentioned it was important that the two of you stay together,” she says.
Lance’s hand shakes as he dips his spoon mechanically into the bowl. “He’s cured,” he says, and then completes the circuit of his arm by placing the spoon into his mouth.
The other three all stop mid motion and turn to stare at Lance. He notices, but his body continues on, chewing and swallowing. He tastes noting though; it could be ash or ambrosia for all he comprehends.
“You’re sure, Lance?” Shiro asks, all serious and commanding in tone, and Lance nods.
“Yes,” he says without expanding. It seems two words at a time are his limit for now.
Shiro exchanges a glance with Allura, who flicks her eyes over to him before returning to steadily peer at Lance, holoscreen now abandoned on the table. Shiro sends him a worried look before standing.
“I’ll go check on him,” he says, his second helping of breakfast abandoned as he exits the room.
Hunk slides into the seat beside him as Lance continues to routinely eat his breakfast while zoning out.
“Lance, are you okay?” he asks as Lance swallows his last mouthful.
“Yes,” Lance says, returning to monosyllabic replies, his hands trembling a little as he picks up his bowl and spoon and moves to the sink. Hunk follows.
“Are you sure? You really don’t look okay, dude. I’m worried,” he says, hands twisting into one another as he watches Lance’s every move.
Lance opens his mouth to tell Hunk he’s fine when the crackle of the castle comms comes to life.
“Hunk, I need you!” Pidge’s voice calls, with a slightly frantic air to it, followed by a crash and a yelp before her voice cuts off.
“You should probably find her,” Allura says from the table, standing and making her way over to the opposite side of the counter, where she fills her bowl with more fruit.
Hunk’s head flicks back and forth between the ceiling and Lance, before groaning and holding his head in his hands. Without warning, he drags Lance in for a hug, squeezing as tightly as he can, Lance’s breath forced out with a shock.
“I’ll be back as soon as I’ve made sure Pidge hasn’t buried herself in something. Again,” he says, giving Lance one more squeeze which seems to ricochet across his whole being, the comfort and concern from his best friend battering on his carefully glued up seams.
They loosen. Lance tugs them back. He cannot breakdown, will not give in.
Hunk departs with one final concerned look, door sliding shut and silence descending. Lance leans back on the counter, breathing deeply and steadying himself once again. He blinks, though, when his bowl suddenly appears under his nose, once again full of food.
“Here. Take this, and come with me,” Allura says, picking up her own with the other hand.
Lance takes it, confused as she smiles brightly and walks to the door.
“I’ve eaten already. Where are we going?” he asks as he follows her out of the room and to the left.
“I’m aware, but this creation is fantastic, and we have a long evening ahead of us. We should keep our strength up,” she says before winking over her shoulder.
She doesn’t answer his second question, though, and Lance feels his word pool has been exhausted for the day. However, it becomes clear after a few moments that they are walking towards Allura’s room, which has Lance confused even further.
“Do we have time for… whatever this is? Aren’t we meant to be preparing?” he asks.
“We have all day, and it’s early. The festivities will not start until this evening when the sun sets,” she explains as they make it to her door.
He’s been here a few times, they all have, but no one tends to spend any time in their rooms together, as the common spaces are far more equipped to deal with large numbers. So Lance is a little surprised when Allura unlocks the door and ushers him in.
Allura’s room is more of a suite, fitting for royalty, of course. She makes her way to the sitting room, placing her bowl down on a small table and gesturing to the couch, which Lance knows is far more comfortable than any of the ones in the common areas. There’s a holoscreen area before it, much like a TV and projector, which they’ve used a few times when they’ve watched Altean shows. They mostly stick to video games and the few Earth movies Pidge has on her laptop that they managed to transfer over.
“Take a seat, I’ll be back in a second,” she says, and Lance does what he’s told as she disappears deeper into her bedroom.
Lance listens to her scrambling around for a few moments, letting his mind stay blank as the sounds distract him. Thankfully, Allura appears only a few moments later, carrying a green box with a flat data chip on top of it.
“You must promise me you will not tell the others about this,” she says, indicating to the box which she places on the table.
Lance is even more confused, but just nods in agreement. Allura grins, then turns back to the holoscreens and sets them up, adding the data chip into the set up. Once she’s finished, she flops down beside him and pulls the box forward.
“I was given these on Nyxim Seven when we travelled there a few months ago. They are usually for children during the new year festival, but they were my favourite growing up and I managed to store a few boxes,” she explains, opening the lid carefully.
Lance stares at an array of small coloured cubes, all with different flowers on top of them. Some glittered, others a deeper colour with marble swirls flowing through. He looked up as she held them out towards him.
“Are these candy? Chocolate? Marzipan?” he questions, finding it easier to ask simple questions over treats.
“Maybe? We’ll have to try them! I have been asleep for ten thousand years, but my cure for heartbreak should still work,” she answers, setting the box down between them and turning her attention to the holoscreen.
Lance doesn’t really feel too shocked that she’s seen through him. Perhaps he would normally, but his energy is so focused on keeping himself upright, that he lets it sweep past.
“Are we watching a romcom?” he asks instead as the screen flickers to life.
Allura turns to him, looking scandalised. “No, of course not! Who wants to watch other people fall in love when your own romance isn’t working out?” she asks as the title credits begin.
Lance cannot help but agree with that, smile breaking through as he moves forward and collects his bowl of breakfast, deciding he should at least finish the healthy food before moving onto sweets.
“So, what are we watching?” he asks, something inside him starting to loosen now that they were in this relaxed atmosphere. They didn’t feel like paladins, like soldiers in arms—just friends. And friends were there when things like this happened, and slowly, Lance can feel the walls start to dismantle, rubble escaping as cement gave way.
“Horror,” Allura says with a gleeful grin, picking up her own bowl.
“Horror,” Lance repeats, in genuine surprise.
“Bad horror. So bad, you can’t look away,” she says, clearly excited.
Lance laughs at the expression on her face and settles back on the sofa; before long, he’s wrapped up in the weird and terrible plot. They both finish their breakfast and quickly move onto the treats, Lance finding they are quite like chocolate and sugar candies, all sweet and addictive.
Yet, it’s the relaxation that gets him. That has his throat clogging with more than just sweetness, has his chest aching with more than their laughter.
“They are so stupid, what the hell,” he says at the character who has run through the same door twice even though it’s a dead end.
“Uh huh,” Allura agrees, popping another candy in her mouth, eyes riveted.
The screen blurs in Lance’s vision, and he sniffles as quietly as possible. But Allura hears it, he can tell by the way she shifts closer ever so slightly.
“So stupid. Really stupid,” he says, voice choking and tears pouring.
“I know, I know, Lance. He’s really an idiot,” she says softly, and Lance breaks. He turns to the side and buries his face in her shoulder and just sobs. Allura immediately adjusts so she’s hugging him properly, hands smoothing down his back in circular motions.
“I’m sorry, Lance. It will be okay,” she says, and Lance just sobs harder, finally having the space for it all to wash over him.
“I always suspected you liked him, I could see how you always gravitate towards one another. That’s why I am surprised he dismissed you this morning. It’s clear to me he feels for you, too,” Allura murmurs as they sit, Lance’s head on her shoulder, watching the second of the amusing horror movies play out.
“Keith? Liking me? You can’t be serious,” he says with a scoff, but at least he can say it now. Crying felt good, even if it had been messy agony while it occured.
“I am, though, Lance. Your taunting is more flirting than any of the lines you say to me. Oh wait, watch, this is brilliant,” she says, gripping his hand and pointing to the screen.
They both burst into laughter as the alien on screen manages to trip and land straight into the arms of the killer.
“I can’t believe this got a second movie, what the hell,” Lance says, shaking his head.
“There’s four, actually,” Allura says, still laughing.
Before Lance has a chance to reply, Coran’s face appears over the horror movie. Both of them instantly scream and launch backwards.
“Hello, Princess! Ah, Lance, excellent. Sorry to interrupt, but the Lymedians are here, and they are asking to speak to both of you,” he says, seemingly unperturbed by their reaction to his appearance.
“To me as well?” Lance says, leaning forward.
Coran nods. “Yes, they were quite insistent on that. Keith’s been helping on the planet for the past few hours, so he’s returning now. They are on the bridge with Pidge at the moment,” he says.
“We’re on our way,” Allura confirms, and with that, the call and the movie are over.
Lance puzzles over exactly why these people would want to speak to him as they walk. Keith he could understand, but him? He wasn’t affected by the bug, only happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
They enter the bridge and Lance sees the Lymedians clustered around the holoscreens. He recalls their planet fondly, one in a Galra-controlled system but on the edge of the Empire, mostly forgotten. They are tall and humanoid in stature, but thin as reeds, skin a dark green with large, yellow and black eyes. They wear robes of various shades of blue which determine their clans, with flowing, almost translucent white hair that is customarily long. Three of them have arrived, all with sky-blue robes, and they turn to bow as Allura enters.
“Princess, we are honoured to see you once more, and deeply apologetic our gift has caused trouble,” one says, stepping forward.
Allura smiles and bows in return. “A pleasure to meet you again also. And please do not worry, these things happen,” she says.
The Lymedian nods, looking more relaxed at the pleasant response. Their eyes then turn to Lance.
“Coran informed us that the Red Paladin was the one bitten, and you, Blue Paladin, were the one whom they locked onto?” they say, asking for confirmation.
Lance nods, finding his words once again stoppering with the mention of the incident. As he does, one of the other Lymedians steps forward.
“May I speak to you for a moment? Alone,” they add, and Lance feels his confusion grow. He looks to Allura, who shrugs back but nods.
So Lance agrees, and leads them out of the bridge and into one of the closer common areas, gesturing for them to take a seat. In their hands is a translator, an invention of Pidge’s which enables more complex words and phrases to be translated to English.
“Thank you, Paladin Lance,” they say, smiling gratefully.
“Just Lance is fine. Why did you want to speak to me? I didn’t get infected,” he says, taking a seat opposite them.
“Lance, then, and you may call me Edrise. I am what you would call an… entomologist,” Edrise says, as their translator lights up in confirmation.
“So you study insects,” he says, ensuring they knew he was on the same page.
“I do, and I have studied the one which your comrade was bitten by, which is why I am here. You see, your Green Paladin informed us of the condition and their analysis of what occurred between you two, and well, there is a bit of a problem.”
“Problem?” Lance says, sitting straighter. Flashes of a million different scenarios flood through at this; Keith in pain as before but elevated, more bugs on their way to bite them all, that Keith will hate him for the rest of time for what happened.
However, Edrise begins speaking so he forces his mind to focus.
“Yes. Unfortunately, your ship’s translator is slightly out of date. Well, ten thousand years out of date precisely, and in that time, our language and understanding of this creature has changed greatly. So the information your friend translated and passed onto you is not correct. You see, the bug toxin doesn’t make chemicals. It enhances and increases ones already present in the body,” they say, leaning forward earnestly.
Lance’s mind screeches to a halt, taking in the statements slowly, but it still doesn’t truly connect.
“What?” he says, bewildered.
“The toxin mingles with your own chemistry. It causes reactions, but it can only work with the materials it’s given,” Edrise says slowly.
They sigh, then inhale once.
“Your Red Paladin… Keith? He already had the fundamentals of these reactions. The bite just increases them out of context. It also lowers inhibitions, and in many cases, brings out a sort of… determination in the bitten. They feel more able to express their desires and work to achieve them, rather than feeling the need to stifle them.”
Lance feels himself shaking, not sure when it started, only that it’s occurring now. He lifts a trembling hand to smooth through his hair, a wild laugh escaping as he does. Edrise looks on with obvious sympathy, but gives him the space to work through it.
“So… the hugging, and worrying about me, and the talking and the… wanting to be around me was… was-” he breaks off as Edrise moves forward to gently hold onto one shaking hand.
“Was all exactly how he was feeling. How he always feels for you. In life, we often do not express the depths and complexities of how we really feel, and what we need from those around us. It’s only as relationships grow with time that you are allowed into someone’s head more. The bug venom allows this to happen at a swift pace, lowering inhibitions and bypassing societal norms. We know this as there are cases where our people who have close relationships—best friends, family, bonded pairs—are bitten and their behaviour only changes minimally,” they explain slowly, voice calming and constant in it’s analysis.
Lance lets the words spin around him, his reality caving in under their weight. He swallows a build up of something hard and burning in his throat, clearing it as he does.
“Are you… sure?” he asks, tone almost pleading.
Edrise grips his hand once before letting go. “I am, but there is someone else who would be better placed to confirm it,” they say, standing.
Lance nods and stands as well, manners prompting him to action.
“Thank you for taking the time to tell me. And for doing it alone,” he adds, not knowing how he would have reacted if forced to learn of this in front of the group.
Edrise bows shallowly. “You are welcome, Lance. Please, I recall the way, so give yourself a moment.”
Lance is grateful for the reprieve of duties and as soon as they leave, collapses back on the chair, head falling into his hands. He’s giving himself whiplash today; from waking up expecting to be cuddled up with Keith, to his rejection and crying all over Allura, to the truth of the bug… his head is overloading.
It was all real. Well, ‘real’ is not the precise word, but it was all Keith’s wants and emotions focused to the surface, not a synthetic creation from chemicals as Lance had been assuming. Which would mean that Keith felt how he acted all along.
Lance sat up at that. All along. Including this morning, when he’d been rude and dismissive and just left Lance to wake up alone in a panic. In the swirling cluster of the tumultuous emotions inside his mind, one managed to gain a little more prevalence than the others at this fact.
Anger .
Keith felt this way and yet he still pushed Lance away and made him suffer without saying a thing? Literally running off the ship as soon as he could get a mission from Shiro, while Lance couldn’t help but feel as if he’d betrayed Keith’s trust and potentially ruined any semblance of a relationship they may have?
He’s stewing in his own frustration when there’s a chorus of shouting from the corridor and the sound of pounding shoes. Lance jumps to his feet, looking around instantly for a weapon when the door bursts open and Keith skids to a halt.
“Lance!” he pants, seeing him standing there in a fighting stance with his fists raised, assuming there was some sort of fight approaching from the noise.
Frankly, he’s concerned that this is his first reaction, but pushes that down as the fury of the last few minutes finds it’s target.
“Oh, now you appear and remember I exist. Now you want to talk to me!”
Keith obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction, and honestly, Lance isn’t expecting it from himself, but he’s so overtaken by his own emotions that he’s been valiantly trying to keep at bay for days, that he’s just pulled along with the tide.
“Lance… Lance, I’m sorr-” Keith begins, but now that Lance has begun, he cannot stop.
“Sorry? For completely brushing me off like I was nothing this morning when I thought you were hurting, or for letting me cry myself stupid on Allura, or for how you were never going to talk about any of this again?” he asks angrily, pacing up and down the room, drawing closer to Keith but still keeping a large distance between them.
“This morning, and—wait, you cried?” Keith says, taking two steps forward with wide eyes as he does. Lance scrubs at his head in frustration, not meaning to say that.
“Not the point, Keith,” he growls instead, and Keith just throws his hands in the air.
“Then what is the point, Lance? Because I can’t keep up right now,” Keith says, retracing his steps until his back hits the wall, crossing his arms in his usual stance.
The words seem to temper the storm inside, and Lance’s anger dies down to exhausted annoyance. He takes in Keith’s posture, the way his eyes no longer focus on Lance like they once did, the clenching of his fingers in his jacket as if trying to feel some kind of comfort from his own self.
Lance pauses, remembering the past two days were real in a sense, and what that means. But this is hardly going to be easy, so Lance inhales and closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose as he circles once, then returns, eyes opening.
“Why did you come to find me?” he asks slowly to calm himself and the atmosphere between them.
Keith’s hands fall from his sides at the question, dropping like stones in gravity, head twisting to one side. Fighting again—always fighting—but this time, Lance isn’t sure what they’re fighting against.
“You know the truth about the bug bite,” Keith says, in a far softer tone than Lance has ever heard from him. It sends him so off kilter, all he can do is nod in agreement.
Keith pauses then, shoulders hunched, awkwardness permeating the space between them. Lance signs heavily and points towards the seats.
“Let’s sit down, okay?” he offers, then makes his way over, hoping Keith will follow. He does without pause, moving to sit opposite Lance, the small table between them a necessary barrier.
“We need to talk about this,” Lance states as the silence continues and Keith looks up, glaring.
“I know, Lance. Just give me a second,” he says, and Lance holds up his hands in surrender, instantly feeling guilty.
He knows this isn’t easy for Keith, knows it’s not ideal for either of them, and he probably feels backed into a corner when he isn’t ready. But all their cards are face up and shown, so there is little Lance can do but try and make it easy, and try to allow him to speak.
Keith exhales and Lance feels as if he’s bracing himself for battle. He can’t help but feel his heart drop inside his chest that Keith sees emotions as a confrontation. Perhaps I can change that , his mind whispers, but he swipes it away. Just because Keith has feelings for him, doesn’t mean he wants the same things Lance does.
“They told you what they told me, I guess. That the venom makes you express your… feelings,” Keith says, still not looking at Lance as he begins.
Lance nods, though, knowing with the darting of Keith’s eyes, he’ll catch the movement.
“Makes you express what you want and how you feel for the person you first lay eyes on,” Lance confirms, thinking it better to let Keith know exactly what he’s been told.
Keith nods, a jerking motion, then huffs out a breath once more. His fingers tighten and release in succession and he just looks so tense that Lance wants to reach out and hold him like he knows he likes. But he can’t.
“I like you, Lance. Which you already know, but I need to tell you. And this isn’t really the best circumstances for that, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with it and that you had no choice. I appreciate you not wanting me to be in pain and going with the whole thing, but I’m really, really sorry I forced you into that position,” he says finally meeting Lance’s eyes as he looks up, remorse clear in his expression.
Which leaves Lance stunned, quite frankly. He thinks he might be gaping at Keith in confused shock, for these is a huge, cataclysmic gap in their understanding.
For Keith has no idea he feels the same way.
Lance assumed it was obvious! What, with how he reciprocated, and with Keith leaving so abruptly and being so surly. But it adds a completely new dimension to the levels of misunderstanding if Keith actually believes he doesn’t return the feelings.
In Lance’s shell-shocked silence, Keith continues speaking.
“So, now you know why I left this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I didn’t want to cause any more problems between us because of this. And you know how I feel and I guess what I secretly want from you so… now you know,” he finishes, obviously struggling to find a way to get through this.
Lance swallows, something hard that’s formed in his throat, and as it stings it’s way through his chest, he feels a spark of an idea, one that catches alight and burns, even as his hands shake and his palms start to sweat.
For Keith has been forced to confess more than one usually does in such early stages. And as his rival, Lance really should try to match him.
“I want someone to catch me from a healing pod,” Lance says.
Keith’s brow furrows in confusion and there’s a flicker of pain in his eyes, but Lance pushes forward. He’s going places with this.
“I hate them. I really hate them. It feels like I’ve fallen through a frozen pond and I’m drowning under the ice. I always think it’s going to malfunction and I’ll get stuck in it, but mostly, I’m scared one day I’ll wake up and no one will be there to catch me, as everyone’s forgotten I exist.”
He stands, then, because despite his plan, he’s still nervous as hell and pacing feels like the best way to disperse the overload of energy in his limbs.
“I want someone who I can talk to when my mind keeps blocking things out. Because I keep dissociating and locking away all the blood and death and the people we can’t save, and I think one day, those things won’t hold anymore and I don’t know what will happen when it fails,” he says, this time unable to look at Keith as the tremors in his hands cause him to wrap them under his armpits.
He inhales and keeps going.
“I want someone who can… care for me as I am now. For as much as I would jump at the chance to see my family right now if I could, I don’t know if they’d recognise or even like who I’ve become,” he says, feeling his chest ache with the familiar worry, but everything also seems lighter after finally saying it aloud.
This time, he does look at Keith. He’s staring up at Lance, the hurt from before vanished, replaced by awe and a little caution. But there is fondness there, and concern, too, which helps Lance fight against the small voice that tells him to flee, having revealed far too many of his weaknesses.
So Lance lets the feeling wash over, then steadies himself again. This time, he speaks to Keith.
“I want someone who sees me as valuable, who wants me around. Who actually sees me, knows me, not just who I pretend to be. Who wants to spend time with me even if we don’t have the same interests, and be comfortable doing our own thing in the same space. And who can share their own interests with me too,” he says, thinking of every moment from the last two days that has made him fall even harder for Keith when he was baring his deepest emotions.
Lance has stopped pacing while speaking, realising he’s now just standing in front of Keith, who looks up at him with the beginnings of a smile, eyes huge and a faint flush rising on his cheeks, which momentarily stuns Lance, it’s such a rarity to see.
But he takes a few steps forward and sits down on the sofa next to Keith, still keeping space between them, and Keith immediately turns so they are facing one another. It’s the most open he’s seen Keith all day, so Lance pushes through to the final moment.
“I want all that with you,” he says, simple words for something that is far from simple, so much that he feels as if he’s tilting on the edge of the abyss, almost certain to fall.
But Keith grabs his hand as soon as the words are said, pulling him from the edge so abruptly and promptly it punches the air from his lungs.
“You really mean that?” Keith says, eyes fierce and bright, and although it’s not the magenta hue from before, it does make them shine so much that Lance thinks that he can be on board with making Keith light up like that forever.
So Lance grips his hand and nods. “I do. You really think I would have held you all night if I didn’t care about you?” he says, shuffling forward and smirking because even though this is a huge step, he cannot help but tease a little.
Keith also scoots forward on the sofa so their knees almost touching. His face flames again, but he smirks dangerously, the expression increasing the thrumming in Lance’s veins.
“Even through alien poison, I’d have to like you a whole lot to let you drool on me,” he says, and Lance squawks, swiping at Keith with his free hand, who laughs.
“I did not drool!” he says indignantly as he sits back, but Keith pulls him back in again with a tug to their still intertwined hands.
“You definitely did,” he says, chuckling, but also slowly raising his free hand to rest on Lance’s hip.
Lance feels warmth seep in from the touch and the instant comfort is a delight. “You, mullet, like me hugging you,” he says, shifting himself so he can move forward.
Keith goes with him, although it’s a bit hesitant; however, as soon as he’s close enough, Lance wraps his arms around him, breaking any sort of question Keith may have of his intentions. For Lance will be clearer from now on, will make sure he speaks fully of what he wants and feels for him.
Keith sags into the hug and Lance smiles to himself as he rests his cheek on Keith’s shoulder. Keith really is good at hugs and Lance has never hugged anyone who so obviously enjoys the contact so much.
“And you like sitting in my lap. Or lying in it,” Keith counters, and Lance pulls back enough from the hug to wink, keeping his arms wrapped around Keith’s neck as he does.
Keith then realises what he’s alluded to and rolls his eyes at Lance, who laughs loudly as Keith turns red.
“You know what I mean,” he mutters, and Lance takes pity on him.
“I do. And yeah, I like being close to you,” Lance says, then realises just how close they are to one another, Keith’s arms around his waist now.
They both stay for just a moment, then Keith’s eyes dart downwards just once.
“I’d like to kiss you, if I can?” he says, voice soft and leaning infinitesimally closer as he does.
“You can. Yes,” Lance says rapidly and then cringes as Keith laughs a little, a puff of air on his mouth.
He’s still smiling as they kiss. And that’s nice, Lance thinks as his eyes slip closed slowly and he leans into the sensation. That their first kiss is full of smiles and relief, his arms drawing Keith as close as he can get. It’s a bright kiss, an exploration as they press and draw into one another, still chaste and learning, Keith seeming hesitant against him. But it still rushes and swims through his body, and Lance knows now that he’s kissed him once, it will never be enough.
They part and Lance doesn’t let Keith go too far, leaning his forehead against his, keeping no space between. And Keith just smiles, and that, Lance thinks, is the best part about all of this.
“I’m sorry.”
Lance turns to Pidge from where he sits at the table, their plates now empty. The celebrations for the first night included sitting through several long speeches and now what Allura has named a ‘small dinner and dance.’ Except, it’s grander than any wedding Lance has been to, which doesn’t bode well for how overwhelmed he’ll be when the ball occurs in two days time.
He and Pidge are the only ones still at their table as Shiro and Keith are in a heated discussion over hand-to-hand combat prowess with the Mayor of the Xendarians, Hunk is on the search for more of the cake-like things on behalf of all three of them, and Allura has been dancing with several dignitaries for the past half an hour.
“What for?” he days, turning to face her.
She twists her napkin awkwardly. “I’d seen you checking out Keith, but I didn’t know you liked him so much. I wouldn’t have mocked the whole thing so much if I had,” she says, looking up at him sincerely.
Lance chuckles and hugs her with one arm.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all worked out for the best,” he says, eyes finding his… boyfriend across the room.
Boyfriend . Already, it’s beyond amazing.
“Urg, you are so gross. Go ask him to dance or something,” she says, pushing him away.
“That is actually a great idea!” he says, bouncing to his feet, about to step away when he turns back to her.
“Don’t you dare eat my cake,” he says, pointing to her threateningly.
“I make no promises,” she replies with a smirk, and Lance groans as he walks away. Hopefully, Hunk will be able to save one for him.
As he approaches, Keith’s eyes light up and he’s making his excuses before Lance even needs to ask. He smiles as they meet, Keith taking his hand instantly.
“Hey,” Keith says, squeezing his hand once.
“Hey, yourself. Can I steal you away for a dance… boyfriend?” Lance asks, unable to stop himself from using the new title.
“It’s not stealing if I go willingly, Lance,” Keith says with a raise of an eyebrow, but walks with him to the dancefloor.
“Don’t ruin the moment for me, Keithy,” he replies as they step amidst the couples, and he sweeps Keith around in a circle.
Keith is obviously not used to dancing, but they find a rhythm anyhow, both used to working with one another's movement by now. The music is something akin to strings and it’s soothing to Lance, who is already feeling the drain of the day despite it not actually being that late.
“You can talk to me, you know.”
Lance is flung from his musings with Keith’s soft words against his ear. When he meet his gaze, Keith continues.
“What you said before, about locking things up and dissociation. I get it, but I’m also worried about you. If you want to talk, I’m here. Just like you were for me,” he says, sincere and promising.
“I was?” Lance asks, not sure if he can recall much of a heart-to-heart passing between them before today.
“When I talked about my past. I know it was part of the toxin, but even then you encouraged more of it. Didn’t shut me down. And I guess, that’s something I want, too. To… talk about those things in the past. Especially now that I know more of who I am,” he explains.
And Lance leans in, kissing him once before turning them as they near the edge of the dance floor.
“You can always talk to me. And I’ll definitely talk about it. I want to, just not right now. It’s too much in one day, I think. I’m already tired.”
At this, Keith stops, drawing back a little with a smile.
“Let’s go back, then,” he says, before parting to take Lance’s hand and lead them off the dance floor. He’s about to protest, when Keith looks back over his shoulder.
“No one will mind. There are days of celebration ahead and we’ve done our part,” he says, tugging Lance along with a smile.
Turns out, Keith is correct as Shiro waves them on without much more than a goodnight. They manage to swipe a cake each before Pidge eats the rest, and hand in hand, they make their way back to the castleship.
“Soooo, sleeping,” Lance says as they enter. He’s not really sure what they should do now, seeing as they've technically slept in the same bed before, but now it’s with full awareness. And Lance would love to spend the night curled up with Keith without any guilt, but he’s aware it could be moving too quickly since they’ve only just defined who they are.
However, Keith pauses, turning around.
“Well, I did manage to find one of those suites you were talking about. It has a four poster bed. And a freestanding bathtub,” he says and Lance’s excitement bursts forth without him even realising.
“You are the best boyfriend ever! A bath and a luxury bed!” he yells, lifting Keith’s hand in celebration, who laughs along with him.
They split once again to prepare in their own rooms, which is now a comfortingly familiar routine, even if it is a little strange. Lance finishes cleaning his teeth and on impulse, grabs his morning serums, toothbrush, and toothpaste, and takes them with him in a bag. After all, no point in having an amazing bathroom if he doesn’t use it, right?
He collects clothing for the next day, then emerges, Keith waiting for him as always, with his own clothes in hand. Lance smiles and they walk side by side, shoulders brushing while their hands are occupied.
“So, pajamas? Been meaning to ask when you started wearing those,” Lance says as they walk past the room they’ve spent the last two nights in, bumping Keith’s arm as he does.
Keith’s cheeks darken a little. “You look comfy in them, so… well, the bug prompted me to try them,” he says, before suddenly pushing open an unremarkable door to the left.
Keith stands by the door, gesturing Lance to move forward first. He ducks inside, and it is truly all Keith promised and more. A light is flicked on and the room is illuminated in soft light, coming from lamps, one large on in the corner of the room, and another on a bedside table near the huge, cherry wood coloured four poster bed.
Part of him has the urge to run around in glee, explore every corner and marvel at the luxury, but the other, more pressing part is exhausted and has a boyfriend to cuddle.
That part is never going to get old.
He places his belongings down on top of a large chest of drawers, then makes his way over to Keith, wrapping his arms around his middle.
“And you like to be comfy,” he says, pulling Keith backwards with him as he walks towards the bed. Keith, of course, goes willingly, nodding in confirmation to Lance’s question.
They have to part to get into the bed, seeing as they had to practically climb into it, it’s raised fairly far off the floor. But as he does, Lance practically sinks into the mattress, and knows, without having to wonder, that this will be one of the best night's sleep he’ll have in months. Keith sits down on the bed and looks down at him, so Lance shuffles forward to capture him by the waist and encourage him down beside him.
Keith raises an eyebrow but follows until they’re laying side by side, Lance’s arm thrown around him, their legs tangling together.
“And you like to be held,” Lance murmurs, bringing back this conversation once again because it’s still such a joy to know, and edging closer to brush his nose against Keith’s.
Keith’s breath hitches and Lance grins to himself, but he’s taken aback when Keith presses a succession of soft kisses against his lips, each one a tiny brush of love and closeness. Keith breaks away after what feels like an infinite number, and Lance longs to pull him back, but the soft smile on Keith’s face as he leans away is the only thing that prevents him. So instead, Lance raises a hand to run through his hair, cupping his cheek delicately as he goes.
“Yeah, I do. It’s not something I’ve… had much of,” he confesses, and part of Lance knows that’s the reason, but hearing it aloud is another matter entirely.
“You can tell me about it, if you like,” he says, a repeat of his earlier offer.
And Keith nods against his hand. “I will. When it’s time,” he says, and Lance would never ask for more than that, for just that sentiment has him bursting with emotion he can barely identify, so vast and crucial his fingers seem to twitch.
In the silence, Keith draws him forward, a movement Lance isn’t expecting, but one he’s willing to go with. For immediately, he’s resting against Keith’s chest, sighing into him as Keith places a kiss to his hair, fingers combing through the short strands there.
“You are so important to me, Lance. Never forget that. And if you ever do, I’ll remind you,” he says, a whisper just for Lance that leaves tears burning in the corners of his eyes.
For as much as Keith likes to be held, Lance likes to know he matters, and Keith knows this as much as he knows Lance so completely. And because of that, Lance doesn’t bother to hide the stray tears that fall as he rears up and kisses Keith with all he has, who matches him just as fiercely. Then, it slows to just a press of mouths in newly explored contact, just touches of lips to one another, smiles sleepy and content as they revel in the newness of them.
And half an hour later, when he’s on the edge of sleep in the bed with so much space considering Keith is curled up practically on top of him, Lance wonders if he can officially claim this as ‘their room’ from now on. He’d certainly like to, but it’s a question in the morning, when Keith will awaken with his hair askew, hopefully still curled up, just like this on Lance.
He softly runs his hand down Keith’s back, smiling to himself as Keith snuggles closer under the touch.
Who could have guessed an alien bug would bring him a boyfriend?