Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rain.

Rain was one of the many things Lance had missed when he had been away from Earth. Today, the rain was relentless. Drops slashed against the windows like knives, making the whole house creak. The clouds hung low, a dark, gloomy blanket shielding the sun. The day was bleak to say the least, and even though it was only 2 pm, long shadows stretched along the driveway.

The war with Zarkon was over. After a persistent battle from Voltron, they had come out on top, and for the first time in decades, the universe was safe from Galran threats. After this, all of the paladins returned to Earth, reuniting with their families at last.

Voltron had shared one final meal, recounting all the pleasant moments they had shared, before they said their goodbyes. Splitting up was probably the hardest part, but each paladin promised frequent texting and hangouts.

So that’s where we leave Lance and Keith.

The two boys had been dating for quite some time. After Keith admitted his feelings back in Voltron, they spent many nights together on the star deck. They yearned to live together on Earth, and after many obstacles, the dream had become a reality.

After Lance had said his final goodbyes to his family—and hugged each one of his siblings—they hit the road. The further the two of them drove down south, the colder it became, and soon they had the heater on full blast.

Lance and Keith moved into an isolated place in the countryside. Upon a hill, nestled in between trees, lives their cottage. It has wobbly stone walls and knotted wooden eaves that they didn’t know could feel so much like home.

Smoke twists and unfurls from their clay chimney every day; it is nearing winter after all. Lance demanded that they got a ‘welcome home’ mat, so that’s what they did. Together, they scoured the shelves of their nearest department store and got one with terrible cursive lettering.

Even though the place isn’t perfect, the boys are proud to call it home.

ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ-ꕥ

June 18th 2018

The seething rain pours down onto the roof, and the wind whistles through the cracks in the window panes. Lance is sitting obediently on the couch, waiting for Keith to get back.

See, Lance has this annoying habit of over-preparing for everything. Which is why the car is stuffed with an obnoxious amount of supplies—including every single blanket they own. So naturally, when Lance wouldn’t stop whining about being cold, Keith had to march out into the rain and dig through the car to get them.

It’s only been a few minutes, but to Lance, it’s felt like hours. He sprawls out on the couch, resting his head on the armrest. He holds his hand above his head before fiddling with his thumbs.

Dios, he was bored.

Before Keith had gone out, both of them (the both of them meaning Lance), had been enjoying ‘Pitch Perfect’. Lance had been dying to watch Pitch Perfect, and who better to watch it with than his boyfriend? It had taken him days to convince Keith, and eventually he caved in. So naturally, on a terrible day, they snuggled up on the couch and indulged in what Keith calls the cringiest shit alive.

‘Where is Keith?” Lance mumbles to himself, starting to get slightly impatient. He fiddles with his thumbs a bit more aggressively now, before swinging his legs over to stand up. He doesn’t really think about what he’s doing as he marches to the door and rattles the doorknob. The door flies open, almost hitting Lance in the process.

“Shit!” He cries, trying to dodge the door.

Immediately, Lance is greeted by an icy gust of wind. He steps back and self-consciously wraps his arms tightly around his torso. Even though it’s deathly cold outside, Lance did not think to reach for a jacket.

He slams the door shut and walks out into torrential downpour. His teeth have already started to chatter, and his hair is quickly being slicked down to his forehead. He glances out at the grass, which has spots of flooding. Lance frowns at this, as he takes pride in his lawn. It’s going to take some work to get it back up to standard again.

“Keith,” He yells bluntly, obviously not impressed, “Keith, where are you?”

For a second, Lance thinks he won’t receive a response, and a flicker of worry ignites in his chest. But then he hears Keith, and breathes a sigh of relief. He speaks, and his voice is slightly annoyed, “Lance, why are you outside? You’ll catch a cold.”

Then, Keith's head pops up from behind the car. His mullet is completely soaked through, and he doesn’t look pleased. Lance knows this isn’t the time, but he looks ridiculous, and he has to squeeze his lips together in order not to crack up. “Why are you taking so long?” Lance says through chattering teeth.

“I can’t find the bloody blankets, are you sure you put them in the car?” The rain has gotten to the extent where Lance can barely hear Keith talk normally.

A crack of thunder declares itself in the clouds overhead, and Lance yells, “What!? I can’t hear you!”

Keith rolls his eyes–chuckling, he yells back, “You idiot, just come over here!”

Grudgingly, Lance furrows his eyebrows before waltzing over to Keith. He is careful to dodge the growing puddles on the ground. When Lance meets him, he gets a better idea of how drenched the poor guy is. Droplets of water roll down his face, and his clothes stick to his arms. But even through the relentless streams of rain, he looks…good. His eyelashes stick together, and Keith has rolled up his sleeve, exposing the muscle in his forearm. It takes every ounce of self-control for him not to lean in and close the gap between their lips.

The rain continues to roll down in ongoing sheets, and Lance thinks he might kiss him, “I’ve looked everywhere in the car!” Keith says, throwing his hands in the air, “Where did you put the—”

Lance closes the gap and kisses him. His hands hold firmly onto Keith's jaw, his fingers brushing through that stupid mullet. At first, Keith is stunned, but quickly returns the kiss. He slams Lance against the car, moving his hands over his broad shoulders. The rain cascades down on them, water streaming down each other's faces.

This is all they could ever want, the two of them kissing in the rain with not a care in the world. Sometimes Lance finds it hard to fathom that his boyfriend is the man of his dreams. How did he get so freaking lucky?

“Lance..” Keith murmurs, pulling back slightly, but Lance just shuts him up, pressing their mouths together passionately. Keith forgets about what he was going to ask and instead runs his hands up Lance’s shirt, creasing the defined muscle. He shivers as he feels Lance return the gesture by running his hand along his waist. Thunder booms overhead, but I doubt either of them heard it. Both boys are now soaked to the brim, their clothes no longer dry, and their hair plastered down.

This time, it’s Lance who pulls back, “Just so you know...” He whispers, and his lip brushes against Keith's ear, “The blankets are stuffed under the back seats…” Before Keith can answer, Lance rolls out from under him, causing Keith to stumble forward. He stares at Lance, a furious blush settling on his face. But Lance has already started to walk away, and once he reaches the door, he adds one more thing, “I’ll see you inside, mullet!”

Keith stands there beet red, trying to fathom what just happened.

“Idiot,” he mumbles as a smile tugs on his lips. He reaches for the blankets, hauling them over his shoulder as he walks back inside.

When he opens the door, a towel is thrown straight at his face. Keith puts the blankets down, thanks Lance for the towel, and dries his hair. After this, Lance pleads Keith to finish watching Pitch Perfect, which he reluctantly agrees to. He then takes his spot on the couch, followed by Lance, who snuggles up near him.

Then, as the rain starts to slow, Lance and Keith sit nestled together whilst watching the greatest movies to ever exist (In Lance's opinion).