Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lance picked at his thumb, over and over again. He’d forced his anxious leg still after Pidge had snapped at him to knock it off! the second time. What if Keith did something stupid, and he and Shiro were completely overwhelmed? The tip of his thumb was starting to blister, and was surely sore, but that thought had no place in his hurricane of a mind right now.

Mamá had always praised Lance for his wild imagination. It didn’t feel so much like an asset anymore, when Keith and Shiro had been gone for seven, now eight vargas. He shook his head at the image of blood and guts spilling out over the Red paladin suit. What if Ulaz’s team had already hailed Zarkon’s fleets? They would turn up any second to force the Castle into a fiery death via star, or a crushing one via black hole, and then they’d all be gone. The heat was already here, pulling at the collar of his shirt and making his jeans scratch too closely to his skin.

“Lance, I swear to god!”

He immediately stilled his foot, which seemed to have begun hitting the floor all of its own. “Sorry, Pidge.” She only huffed in reply, and Lance sank deeper in his seat.

Making himself exhale and inhale at an acceptable rate, Lance tried to bring out his inner calm Shiro. Coran had fixed a visual on the red lion, they’d know if Keith was in danger. She had crossed galaxies for him before, she wouldn’t just sit there if Keith was being tortured. Or would she? Lance shifted in his seat again.

Unbidden, a shaking and twitching Keith entered his mind. Blood dropped onto Keith’s eyelashes as he fought against the pain, his every last nail plied out. Of course he’d never break, never even hint at what brand of tea Lance and Hunk share every morning. And they would push him beyond life. All the while, Lance would sit here, unknowing, unable to help, picking at his stupid fucking fingers. His stomach churned.

Keith would be dead, and Lance would never have peace. It’s so stupid! Lance was a firm believer in missing all the shots one didn’t take, he was the sharpshooter extraordinaire. So why hadn’t he taken his shot with Keith? How could Lance be rendered a fumbling idiot by some scrawny ass Texan with a messy mullet and crooked smile, when he with great hybris winked at every gorgeous, head-turning alien they met? How?

Rhetorical question. None of those aliens ever made Lance feel as alive as Keith did, with his sharp elbowing, smart comments and sparkling eyes. Lance was only alive when Keith was right next to him, neck and neck in whatever dumb game or bet they’d made, delivering some jab with hot breath. In his mind’s eye, Keith’s head finally fell to the floor, with a final exhale, eyes blank. Lance’s chest heaved faster. Not knowing for certain was agony. There must be something wrong with the Castle’s oxygen converter. 

The more his breath quickened, the more images of all the gruesome ways the red paladin of Voltron could fall flooded Lance’s head. It was getting harder to tell himself to shut up already and to think rationally. Coran had a visual on Keith’s lion. They would know, surely they would know if something had gone wrong. 

And nothing had.

“The red lion has started attacking!” said Coran.

Lance almost heaved. His entire skin prickled, his mouth tasted sour, and his fingers woke up to tell him exactly what they thought of his abuse. And he thought that, maybe, there was more agony in knowing for certain.

“Wait, what does that mean? Why would the lion attack, unless…” Hunk trailed off.

Paradoxically, Lance was absolutely still now that he was proved right, finding it hard to move. He swallowed thickly and forced himself to ask for the plan. “Allura..?” His sticky mouth didn’t get very far.

“Everyone stay focused.”

Vaguely, Lance registered that everyone else’s gaze was firmly fixed on the point in space where Shiro and Keith would’ve returned. Would’ve, if they weren’t bleeding out together, caught in some sadistic trap. Lance’s own vision was blurry and lost somewhere in Allura’s curls.

Allura and Coran were talking about something. He tried to understand it, truly, but it was as if nothing stuck in the white noise of his brain. Damn it, he needed to focus, for once in his life! Keith could need him!

But Keith was dead, and Lance was too late. It was as if every fiber of him was frozen up, rendered completely still by adrenaline overloading his system, with nowhere to go. His heart stopped beating, lungs ceased moving, the blood in his veins slowing down to a trickle.

Keith was dead, and Lance was going to die as well.

A passing thought claimed Coran was counting down something. Whatever it was, it was irrelevant to Lance, because the boy he adored wasn’t here to make him feel alive anymore.

Something red flashed in the corner of Lance’s vision, and the world came crashing all around him. His pulse shot from zero to a hundred. Finally, somewhere to channel all that adrenaline.

“They’re alright!” Coran turned around with eyebrows high and mustache curled up in a smile.

“Sweet! They did it!” said Pidge and Hunk in chorus.

Lance was out the door first, running without abandon down to Red’s hangar. His thighs stung with lactic acid and his already exhausted lungs felt like fire. It was irrelevant. Lance needed to make sure, or collapse on the way there. His boots thundered against the Castle floor, pushing harder for every time he felt his legs might give up.

The bay doors wouldn’t open until Red was completely installed and the air pressure had time to adjust. Lance knew this. But it was absolutely necessary that he make it inside right now, no matter what. Lance’s lungs were turning in on themselves, and he had to support himself against the wall. He needed to see Keith. If not the rest had caught up by then, and Hunk had stepped close (not touching, not overwhelming, just near enough to be comforting, he loved Hunk), Lance was sure he would’ve started hammering uselessly at the lock pad.

With a puff of air, the doors finally gave way. Lance stumbled through the opening with weak legs, the Alteans, Hunk and Pidge following closely.

Red was just lowering her head and folding out the ramp to let her paladin and Shiro out. They were both upright, and Lance couldn’t see blood anywhere. Oh. Lance almost fell to the floor at the sight of them, but pushed through. His body, so recently seized by fear, was in an instant filled with warm joy and relief that made his head spin. A wild grin made his cheeks ache.

“Princess!” hailed Keith, as they made their way down the ramp. Alas, he was too late, for Lance had almost reached him. “I’ve got something–”

“Keith!” Lance shouted through his stubborn grin. He hadn’t taken the time to slow his pace, instead grabbing onto Keith’s elbows and spinning him around until they came to a stop. Shiro just barely dodged them.

“Whoa, hey buddy,” said Keith, looking as dazed as Lance felt.

“You’re– you’re okay?” Lance ran his hands over Keith, inspecting his arms and shoulders, patting down his head and turning his chin this way and that.

“I’m fine,” said Keith through squeezed cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Lance felt stupid, but really couldn’t bear to entertain his terrifying imagination any longer. No open wounds, no bleeding out. Hot tears of relief pooled along his lash line. Just lots and lots of black and purple bruises. “What are these?”

Grabbing Lance’s arms, Keith lowered them together and frowned. “Hey, hey, Lance. What happened, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m– you’re focusing on the wrong thing! You absolute fucker, I–”  

He let out a wet laugh and the pools of tears finally broke, falling freely down his face. A hand wiped Lance’s cheek, and he instinctively fell against Keith’s chest, knees swaying.

“I was so scared,” he murmured into the black fabric on the crook of Keith’s neck. A smell of sweat barely covered that Keith-patented fragrance Lance had come to search for whenever they bumped heads in whatever dumb argument. Slowly, Keith brought his hands up Lance’s back in an embrace, and joy exploded in Lance’s chest once more. He wanted to jump and dance and–

“I got you. I’m here,” said Keith.

It was too much to handle, and Lance grabbed onto Keith tighter. Apparently, Keith wasn’t ready for this. His footing slipped, and with an oomph! they fell backwards together, Lance on top. He brought himself up by his elbows by Keith’s head.

Keith winced and steadied Lance by his waist, then pulled his hand away as if burnt. His face was almost as red as his lion, and his pupils blew wide under his shaggy fringe. Lance’s heart beat unimaginably fast, and before he could consider his alternatives, he bent down to peck Keith on the lips.

What.

Lance’s stupor broke instantly, and he scrambled away. Who fucking does that!? Where was all Lance’s swaggor and tact, oh god, what if Keith was never into him?

Hunk let out a low whistle. Looking around, Lance noticed they were all staring at him, slack-faced. Even Keith. Oh my god. Lance hid his face in his jacket.

“Uhm, Shiro?” Keith asked tentatively. Just barely, Lance dared peek out of his jacket.

Arms crossed but with a soft expression, Shiro bumped Keith with his foot. “C’mon Keith, we talked about this. This is when you go get your man.”

He’d been wrong before, now  is when Lance McClain’s beautiful spirit left this world. Because Keith got up, stretched out his hand to Lance and pulled him up. Pulled him close.

“Your man, huh?” Lance said through yet another painfully wide smile.

Keith flushed again, scratched his head. “If, I mean, only if you want to.”

“Alright team,” said Shiro, stepping toward the rest of the group still at the bay doors. “We’re going to the bridge, we brought a lot of information from the Blade of Marmora.”

This woke Pidge and Hunk up, who immediately started protesting. “Hold-on-hold-on-hold-on! Lance, you swore your crush wasn't that serious. What the heck is this?”

“Nuh uh, Hunk, we’re leaving.” Shiro brought both arms round their shoulders and spun them around. “Oh, and, Kolivan. Join us.”

At this a masked, large person stepped out of the red lion. Their mask dissolved to show a grizzled, positively Galran face.

“You brought a Galran?” Allura exclaimed, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Apologies. It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

“Princess,” Kolivan nodded, and continued out past Lance and Keith. With a wave of his arm, Coran politely showed him and Allura out of the hangar. “It’s great to see the rumors of your awakening are true.”

Sheepishly, Lance shouted after Shiro, "I'm glad to see you safe too!" In response he waved half-heartedly.

Pigde tried to wriggle out of Shiro’s hold, and piped up, “Lance, Keith, since when!? I'm not done here, Shiro. You can’t stop me!”

“Oh, yes I can,” said Shiro, picked her up with one arm and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Wait!” Pidge futilely stretched out her arm to make a I’m watching you gesture at the pair, as the bay doors closed before her. 

At the realization that they were now alone, Lance's pulse picked up again. The silence was heavy, but in a good way, full of anticipation instead of anxiety.

Lance leaned closer to Keith in fake conspiracy. “So, who was that guy?”

“Uhm, leader of the Blades. You’ll find out more later, I guess.”

“Kinda hot, wasn't he? I’ve always had a thing for Galrans.”

Keith’s eyes grew round like balloons and he looked almost constipated. He seemed to stumble over his words, so Lance quickly remedied the situation.

“Oh, you know I only gots eyes for my man, right?” 

This did not seem to help Keith, who ducked his head. But he did snort (almost laughter!) so Lance counted it as a point for him!

“Forget about that, Shiro’s old,” said Keith, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“I’d never!” Lance poked Keith under his chestplate, who winced, again. He’d almost forgotten about the bruises.

“What happened out there, Keith?”

“There was a trial. But I’m fine, honestly. Much better now, actually.”

“Well, that’s stupid. You piloted the red lion there, that’s as good a proof as any that you’re a capable ally.”

“Yeah, well,” Keith scratched his ear. “Wasn't that kind of trial. I’ll tell you about it later, on the bridge. Why were you so upset?”

It was Lance’s time to blush. “Oh, I… I was just very anxious. About you. About the fact I’d been such a coward around you. I felt like an idiot, because I always take my shot, and then I just didn’t, because, maybe because I… really like you” he finished dumbly. That didn’t nearly encompass what Keith made him feel.

Keith's eyes lit up brilliantly, and a soft quirk graced his lips. "I really like you, too."

Lance almost fainted on the spot, with how his every nerve sparked with all things good. Before that could happen, he quickly continued, “And then I was stuck on that dumb bridge with nothing to do except imagining all the ways you could die, while I’d never have a clue.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! Just promise to never, ever, go on a mission like that ever again, ever.”

Keith’s eyebrows knitted together. “I… can’t promise that. We’re paladins of Voltron.”

Quenching the laughter Lance felt bubbling up, he said, “I know, Keith. I know.” 

Instead he faced Keith head on, placing his knee in between Keith's and lacing their hands together. Keith swallowed and Lance watched his adam’s apple hiccup. He let himself fully relax for the first time since Keith began guiding Red through the gravity fields this morning, “I, however, have something to promise before we go be paladins again.”

“Hm?” said Keith, eyes clearly fixed on Lance’s mouth.

Lance smiled. “To take all my shots so I never miss any.”

The kiss that followed was giddy and sweet, and everything nice.