Chapter Text
Lance found Allura in the Altean control room, silhouetted against a myriad of colours splashed across the stars. Her shoulders always seemed relaxed here, the softness in her eyes never going unmissed as Lance watched her gaze out the large windows. This was a small room, rumbling with the weight of the ships engines and tucked away in a dark corner. Garrison members rarely came down here, the tech being out of sync with their biology, so it was a quiet place. Lance got the feeling Allura had an affinity to it – it being the only Altean part of the ship. He leaned up against the door frame, letting the scene wash over him before he broke it softly. ‘You were incredible out there today.’
‘Lance!’ Allura jolted, whipping around. Their eyes met, and then the shock slowly melted into something warmer. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem, Princess.’ Lance replied. Then he added a wink just to savour another expression crossing his girlfriend’s face. Girlfriend. The word made him giddy. Before he could help himself, he hopped down the step and glided into Allura’s space, dropping a peck against her cheek and smiling at the warmth touching his lips. ‘It was just the truth.’
Allura giggled, hiding her face. She fell against his chest and the action sent warmth radiating through Lance’s body. He loved seeing this side of Allura – the relaxed one, dropping the burden of the universe for once.
‘You are too kind, Lance.’
Not true, Lance thought. Allura was. Always throwing herself into danger to protect the rest of the team. Lance’s admiration felt overwhelming and he squeezed her tightly under his arms. Instead of the expected melting of said Princess, a hiss left her lips. Lance immediately let go.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘It’s nothing.’ Allura quickly admonished. ‘A minor scratch on my upper arm. It’ll clear up soon enough.’
Lance didn’t believe her.
‘May I see?’ He asked carefully. Allura faltered, glancing away. She fidgeted with her shirt sleeve, almost as if she was shy? Lance found it strange. He let his eyes roam, trying to decipher her body language. She was wearing her Altean flight suit, hair falling in a mess across her shoulders as she tried to hide behind it. Options seemed to weigh over her eyes, the atmosphere shifting around them and Lance finally realised what was happening. His muscles drew tight, blood rushing to his face. He’d just asked her to undress. Oh God, he’d just asked Allura to undress. Without even thinking. Completely brash. The Princess of Altea. He should just launch himself out the window now. An apology was waiting to burst onto his tongue, when Allura finally looked up at him.
‘Okay.’
Okay? Okay! Everything was okay. Lance let out a whooshing breath, feeling himself shrink like a balloon in relief. Allura took a step back, reaching up and around to her spine. She tapped against the neck a few times, grip missing target and Lance’s fingers twitched at his side. He could help. Should help. Or would that be inappropriate? Would Allura disapprove? He didn’t get to decide as Allura finally caught the zip, letting out a silent breath of victory. She pulled the zip down, the fastening releasing in short successive clicks that echoed in the quiet room. Clutching the fabric to her chest, she shrugged her shoulder out from the white fabric and Lance’s breath hitched. Beautiful brown skin was unveiled, slipping over her collar bone and out across her shoulder. The orange lights of the Atlas caught every undulation of taught muscle spreading from her neck and Lance found himself staring, never having seen this much of his girlfriend before. She was gorgeous.
Without thinking, Lance brushed her hair back over her shoulder to get a better look and Allura gasped. He suddenly stilled. Was that okay? Was he being too forceful? This whole thing was so new, he could be overstepping boundaries. Lance was always putting his foot in it around Allura. He needed to control his behaviour. He should focus on the matter at hand. Muttering an apology, he stared hard at her arm. Time to play doctor, he thought, before quickly changing his mind to biologist. Much safer, way less kinky - didn’t have his cheeks flaming at the thought. Steadying his breaths, Lance tried to slow his heart as he slid his hand along soft skin. His fingers curled around her elbow before he finally looked at the injury.
Lance took in a sharp breath. It was more than a scratch crossing her dark skin. He’d describe it as an angry gash cut across clean flesh. He squeezed her elbow, gaining her attention.
‘This needs treating.’ He said firmly, looking straight into wide blue eyes, ‘may I?’
Allura bit her lip but after a brief pause, she nodded shakily.
~*~
Lance had slipped his hand into Allura’s to lead her to the med bay, trying to keep a comforting presence whilst not worrying about how sweaty his palm was. Sitting her on the bench, he frowned when the clinical mattress barely dipped with the weight, the sheets pulled so tight they didn’t even crease. That couldn’t have been comforting. Lance threw her a sheepish smile, hoping to offset the harsh environment before he set to work. Why were hospital rooms always so unsettling? His mother always told him they were places of healing, but Lance could never shake the scent of death from his mind. Kneeling down, he distracted himself by digging through the cupboards lining the walls, on the lookout for antiseptic wipes and bandages.
‘Did you get injured during the battle?’ Allura asked behind him, legs swinging back and forth as she gazed around the unfamiliar room. The Atlas didn’t have healing pods – and Lance had no doubt that Allura had never needed to treat an injury manually before, so this must have been a new experience for her. Was she nervous? He jumped back up, dropping his armful of supplies onto the bench to eagerly put aside her worries.
‘Nope! Fit as a fiddle!’
Fit as a fiddle may have been an exaggeration – Lance had several bruises dotting his torso and a burn mark on his leg that probably shouldn’t go untreated. But Allura was more important. And he didn’t want to give her anything extra to concern herself over. Plus, now he knew where the supplies were kept, sneaking back later wouldn’t be an issue.
‘Now this may sting.’
He pressed the soaked cotton wool against Allura’s arm and she let out a hiss through her teeth.
‘Sorry.’ He whispered, quickly taking the cloth away again. Allura shook her head.
‘No, it’s fine. It’s supposed to hurt, right?’
She was smiling up at him, quirk of encouragement in her brow. Lance cursed himself for having turned the situation back on himself.
‘Yeah. But you’re new to this,’ He explained, hoping to set right just who the patient was supposed to be in that moment, ‘stop me if it’s too much.’
‘Lance.’
Allura’s tone made him look up. Commanding but kind. Her eyes were soft on his, a hint of amusement sparkling in the blue. She reached up to cup his cheek, smile pulling against her own, ‘don’t be so nervous. I’m fine.’
Lance nodded. Of course she was. She was the Princess of Altea for Christ sake – stronger than any army. Why was he doubting her? His stomach twisted uncomfortably. What kind of boyfriend was he?
Swallowing down his thoughts, he plastered on a reassuring smile. ‘Okay then.’
Focussing on wrapping the wound he tried to ignore the weight pulling on his gut.
~*~
Long after the ship had dimmed its lights, Lance was disappointed to find the cupboards empty of burn cream. Having even crawled to the back of the corner one, tipping boxes upon boxes of plasters out onto the tiles, his search turned out to be futile. With a huff, he shoved the items back into the space, replacement much more haphazard than necessary. He had to force the doors closed against bulging boxes, slamming the wood shut and feeling it give as if set against a squashed spring. That would be a fun explosion for the next user. Lance hoped it would be Keith. Maybe he could set up a camera somewhere just in case?
Lance turned to see if there were any good hiding places behind him - a decent flower pot would be a good shout - when a burst of pain erupted through his leg. His open wound had caught painfully on the rough fabric of his jeans and he let out a surprised shout at the sting. His leg jerked off the ground and he quickly hugged it to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut against a rush of water. He really needed to treat this wound. It seemed to be getting worse.
With a sigh, Lance clambered to his feet. There was always one person on this ship he could rely upon getting injured who probably had some sort of personal first aid kit. And they did suffer many burns by Lance’s hands.
~*~
‘Hey, Keith?’
Lance knocked on the open door of the training room. It was far too late to be there, and Keith really should be relaxing, but Lance was willing to let that slip in exchange for medicine. He was barely able to ignore the throbbing now.
Keith swiped a hand across his forehead, sword in his hand fizzling back into dagger form as he stood to attention, ‘yeah?’
‘You got any burn cream?’ Lance tried for a light tone, downplaying his pain as if he was merely curious. It didn’t work as Keith’s face was immediately overtaken with a frown and he crossed the room, aiming it at Lance.
‘You got hurt?’
Lance rolled his eyes.
‘No, I just like the taste.’
Keith’s face took on a wave of confusion at the joke. He cocked his head to side and Lance was hit with a wave of familiarity. Kosmo. Keith looked just like his space wolf right now. Lance could practically feel the question marks radiating off him as if he’d thrown a ball for the dog who didn’t understand fetch. It was strangely endearing. Lance felt his lips quiver. But when the furrow in Keith’s brow buried deeper, he quickly shook away the thoughts. ‘Yes! I got hurt. I was just kidding about the whole taste thing.’
‘Oh.’ Keith ducked his head, avoiding Lance’s gaze. And if he wasn’t mistaken, a faint blush seemed to be dusting the red paladins’ cheeks. Lance’s chest squeezed tightly, and his lips widened without permission.
‘You’re du-umb,’ he sang. It was childish, completely unnecessary and one-hundred percent unhelpful. But Lance couldn’t seem to resist. Keith reacted immediately, throwing a fierce glare at the other. It would be scary if it weren’t for the red glow surrounding it. Lance laughed now, completely unashamed. Keith was so easy to rile up. And he did it so well, reacting quickly, dramatically and with promise of a later counter strike. Lance couldn’t help taking advantage of absolute gold. Besides, it was his right, as one of the very few people close enough to Keith to not be on the receiving end of murder, to tease him. And as Lance’s laughter trailed off, Keith finished a classic eye roll, but Lance spotted the glimmer of amusement there too. And that was the real win if Lance was being honest. Because if not getting murdered was rare, then witnessing joy was nigh-on impossible. Lance couldn’t help but preen at the thought that he did. It was nice to get the tense arch out of their leader’s shoulders.
‘So you’re injured?’ Keith prompted, leaning into his hip and fixing Lance with a look.
‘It’s really not that bad!’ Lance assured quickly. But as Keith continued to stare, he let his head drop in defeat. ‘I got too close to one of the steam vents on that last mission. Got a burn on my leg.’
Keith shook his head in disapproval.
‘Come on,’ he said, hint of a smirk against his lips, ‘there’s a first aid kit in the training room cupboard.’
‘There’s a training room cupboard?’
Keith shot his head back so quickly it could have ripped off his neck. Lance couldn’t even begin to try holding his deadpan as he witnessed the full scope of unrefined shock slapped across their leader’s face. He snorted. Then laughter was tumbling from his lips, unrestrained.
‘No no, I did know that.’ He managed between laughs, ‘despite what you think I do actually train.’
Keith rolled his eyes but there was a smile there too.
‘Oh, I don’t doubt that you train,’ He said, continuing their trek to the back wall ‘you don’t get that good without proper training.’
Lance tripped over thin air. Had Keith just said he was good? No wait, he said he was that good. That implied he was impressed. Was Keith impressed by him? Was Lance impressive? His insides went warm with the idea, folding like cake batter. In his elation he nearly missed Keith’s following dig.
‘I just doubt you bother tidying up.’
The bubble popped. Lance let out an offended noise, forgetting his previous elation. He struggled to put together a lie about just how untrue that was until Keith threw him a dangerous smirk that had Lance burning from the inside out and even more desperate to wipe it off his face. Unfortunately, that wasn’t conducive to finding any more of a comeback other than a strangled screech.
They arrived at their destination, and Keith pulled the cupboard open smugly. Flicking through the contents smugly he lifted a out small white tub smugly. He passed it over all smugly and Lance threw his hand over it, readying his offence. But before he could begin, Keith caught his hand.
‘Seriously though-’
God his expression was so intense. It didn’t leave any room for Lance to catch respite. All he could do was nod for Keith to continue, staring at the dark eyes locked on his.
‘It’s not serious is it?’
Lance shook his head and that warm feeling was creeping back into his stomach again. ‘It’s fine. Really.’
Keith searched his eyes for what felt like forever. It was as if he could see the inner workings of Lance’s mind but the weird part was that Lance wasn’t totally against it. In fact, it gave him a moment to look into Keith’s. There was wild passion surrounding his dark, almost black irises – untamed energy ready to explode. But they were also steady, holding Lance to his place. And well-meaning. But before Lance could decipher any further, Keith was closing them, nodding to himself. Turning away, he seemed satisfied with Lance’s response - as he should be Lance had poured a whole barrel full of sincerity into that statement. But Lance stayed still for a second longer. Keith cared. The thought echoed through his mind. It was nice. Made his skin feel like it was trapping bubbles. He couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the moment so soon.
Keith smiled at him then. A small thing, easy to miss but not to someone who knew how rare it was. And it made Lance’s heart stutter strangely.
‘Go fix yourself up,’ Keith commanded before adding a sly, ‘sharpshooter.’
Lance grinned.
‘On your orders team leader!’
He raised a small two fingered salute to his forehead, making Keith laugh at the gesture. The sight had Lance’s chest blooming. Despite his injury he practically bounced back to his room.