Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance was about three inches from a beautiful night’s sleep when Keith peeled himself free and fumbled in the dark for his underwear, promptly smacking his head on the corner of the bed nook and cursing as quietly as possible.

‘Mmhm,’ Lance groaned, shifting over onto his stomach, brain still syrupy from exhaustion and afterglow.

‘Shh,’ Keith whispered, ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘M’wasn’t sleeping,’ Lance nudged his eye mask up to see the shape of the other boy, dark against darkness. Keith pulled on his jeans and crossed the room, pulling Lance’s mask back over his eyes, lingering to smooth down his rumpled hair.

‘Yes you are,’ Keith found his shirt beneath Lance’s jacket and yanked it over his head, ‘You’re dreaming.’ 

‘Aaah,’ Lance mumbled, too tired to put any volume or drama in it, ‘A nightmare! There’s a naked emo in my room,’ He couldn’t see the middle finger lifted at him beyond his eye mask. 

Keith never spent the night. On the rare occasions they found themselves in Keith’s room, neither did Lance. While ‘no sleepovers’ wasn’t technically one of the rules, they had gone this far keeping to it. Once Keith agreed to stay and cuddle, at least until Lance could hear properly again, he didn’t mind as much. 

****

Keith’s time in the training room paid off in a myriad ways. He could pin down Lance in four seconds flat and hold him up to fuck against a wall for twenty minutes. But when he was finally, eventually tired out enough to collapse forward on Lance and pant into the crook of his neck, leaving traces of himself over Lance’s ass and thighs, it was never for long. 

‘You-’ he squeezed Lance’s hip, twitching from the sudden emptiness, ‘You okay?’

The blue paladin flopped down, boneless on the mattress, Keith flopping down on top of him, softening dick pressed up against his ass. One, two, three breaths. Then he swatted at the hand still rubbing up and down his back and shoved Keith off him to stretch out on his back. Lance tried not to sound like he was still catching his breath, even if he was.

‘I’ll be just fine tomorrow. Don’t flatter yourself, hothead.’ 

‘Mm,' he mumbled, 'You like my head.’

‘Ever since you stopped using teeth,’

A light slap on his thigh, barely stinging. A flash of his favourite smile hidden under sweaty strands of black hair that Lance couldn’t help returning, ‘Fuck off.’

One, two, three breaths. 

Keith pushed himself to sit up, shoved his hair off his face, and walked to the basin in the ensuite. Lance heard the faucet run, heard Keith wipe himself down and splash water in his face. Quiet footsteps across his room and a gentle hand hooking under his knee, pulling his leg up to press-

‘Cold!’ Lance’s body seized when the water met his sensitivity (okay, maybe a little sore) and Keith had to dodge a kick to the face, ‘Fucking hell, warn a guy next time.’

‘It’s water, idiot,’ the hand beneath Lance’s knee gripped firmer and yanked Lance’s leg back up, ‘Unless you want to sleep all sticky.’

‘You’re a terrible top,’ he grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows.

‘Wasn’t hearing this earlier,’

‘This is terrible top etiquette. Whatever happened to aftercare?’

‘I’m wiping the jizz off you,’

‘Yeah, your jizz!’ he whinged as Keith huffed, dropped his leg and tapped his ribs, prodding him to roll and let Keith mop up the white splashes on the sheets. That, he could admit, was not Keith’s jizz, ‘Which is the bare minimum when you put it there! ’

‘Jesus, Lance,’ He tossed the flannel in the washbasket and bent down to pick up his boxers, ‘Do you want a bedtime story?’

Lance rolled his neck and tried not to watch Keith dress, ‘Hunk would cuddle.’

‘Why don’t you go ask him?’

‘Wasn’t his dick in me,’ Lance shot back, watching him throw his shirt on and buckle his belt. At least he’d left that god-awful jacket in his room, ‘Are you late for something or what?’

Keith stilled, holding a single sock in his hands. Lance heard him take a long, slow breath through his nose. One, two, three.

‘You never asked me to stay before.’

‘Who said I’m asking now?’ Lance said, a little too quick. Don’t make it weird, that was a rule. ‘But I never told you to sprint off as soon as you come either. It's bad top etiquette. It's rude.’

Keith stared up at the dark ceiling, swore under his breath, and dropped the sock, climbing back onto the bed.

‘Nuh-uh,’ Lance pointed, ‘Don’t you dare get in my bed with jeans on.’

‘I had them on when we started,’

‘That was over the covers, it’s different.’

‘Fuck’s sake,’ he swore again, but unbuckled the belt and shimmied out of those horrible jeans either way, scooching up to Lance and lying next to him, barely touching, ‘This what you wanted?’

‘Oh my god,’ Lance shoved him down and yanked his arm behind his own shoulders, ‘Is being socially inept a Galra thing or are you just special,’ He plopped his head down on Keith’s shoulder, finding it too uncomfortably, annoying, and maybe a little sexily firm to rest on, and kissed his teeth, ‘How am I supposed to relax when you’re just one big muscle?’

‘Maybe if you trained-’

He sank his head down onto Keith’s chest. Not as soft as a girl’s, obviously, but when he wasn’t tensed it was comfortable enough. At least more so than his arm, ‘Yeah, I don’t fuck you for the lecture.’ 

He could feel Keith stiffen, just for a second, under his head. His voice was brittle.

‘Glad to hear it.’

****

After that, Keith would stick around, hold him for a bit, sometimes until he fell asleep. Pull the covers up on his way out. But Lance always woke up alone. He heard the door whizz and click softly shut but not the footsteps beyond it, taking Keith from Lance’s room to his own down the hall, shoes in his hand because Lance knew the walk wasn’t long enough to bother with the laces. The castle soundproofing was something he was always grateful for until this moment. Cuddling was a one way ticket to delusion city, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. For the brief time, when his body was soft and tingling, and Keith’s heartbeat was steady under his head, it was easy to pretend this situation wasn’t what it was.

And their situation was fun for the most part. Sex is fun, and sex with Keith even more so - boy’s a fast learner. It was casual. It was stress relief. It was the best he was going to get. And Lance was absolutely, 100%, completely fine with that. 

It was a long time before he fell asleep.

But the tides of Voltron wait for no-one, so Lance found himself on the bridge of the castle at piss o’clock in the morning either way, suited up and stifling yawns while Allura briefed them on the very important paladin business they had planned for the day. Something something traditional gift, something something valuable allies, something something watch out for the native fauna, nothing he hadn’t heard a hundred times before. They were on their way to strike an alliance with Eruk, a dwarf planetoid off the southwestern quadrant, on the periphery but not currently in Galra territory. Eruk had a lot of good mines it would be useful to keep the Empire out of, so this alliance was important to the princess. Lance was more preoccupied wondering if Allura really had a British accent or if the castle’s translation system just gave her one for what, vibes?

‘Remember, Paladins,’ Lance’s attention snapped back to her, ‘I need you to be on your very best behaviour,’ he did not miss how her eyes rested on him, ‘If the Galra control the orichalcum supply, this war is as good as lost.’ 

‘Don’t sweat it, princess,’ Lance stretched out his shoulders and bowed deeply, ‘I would never let you down.’ To his left, he heard Keith snort. He whipped his head to where the other boy stood, disinterested as always, ‘Anything to add, mullet?’

‘Whatever,’ his arms were crossed over his chestplate and he looked annoyingly well rested. Lance didn’t miss the little gleam in his eye, the one he’d seen more and more every time he flirted with Allura, ‘Just try to avoid a diplomatic incident.’ 

‘I’ll show you a diplomatic-’

‘Boys!’ Shiro interrupted, dad face already weary, ‘Enough. Lions, now.’

Lance had just walked off the last of his irritation on the way to Blue’s hangar, ranting to Hunk about stupid Keith and his stupid cooler-than-thou attitude, when he turned around and saw the very same strolling up to his lion.

‘Oh no,’ he strode back down the walkway, ‘No you don’t. Don’t put your filthy feet on my girl, fuck off back to Red.’

‘Were you even listening?’ Keith snapped, ‘The planet’s underwater, idiot. Red’s not coming. It’s you and Green.’

‘Then go to Green,’ Lance crossed his arm. Keith tried to sidestep him but Lance blocked his way.

‘Guys,’ Hunk called from behind him, ‘Come on, let’s just go.’

‘Nuh-uh,’ Lance chimed, ‘Not with him. He’ll probably jam the controls or something just so we crash and I look stupid!’

It was juvenile, yes. Lance knew that. But just because he liked Keith didn’t mean he liked liking him. One stupid crush doesn’t mean Keith was suddenly not infuriatingly stubborn and determined to be better than everyone around him, especially Lance. In fact, liking him made his horrible personality even worse, because Keith could be stubborn and better than everyone and Lance would still get him off, which did nothing to bring him down to Earth. Or, well, ship. Idioms are harder in space.

‘Why would I crash a lion that I’m in? How could I even crash your-  you know what,’ Keith lost his patience and barged Lance out of the way, passing him to ascend into Blue’s mouth, ‘Allura said we have to get the Welkova seed to offer the council, and god knows she can’t trust you. Grow up and get in.’

‘Well me and Hunk will be just fine, so go to Green and leave us alone.’

‘Lance, I’m already here,’ he walked into the lion’s mouth and called back to her paladin, ‘Shut up and fly already.’

They weren’t too high in the planet's orbit, so once Lance had punched in the co-ordinates Coran sent over and shoved Keith to the very back of the cockpit, the flight to surface was short and blessedly free of certain interruptions. 

Even if the people of Eruk lived underwater, the planet did have land. Quite a lot of it in fact, almost resembling an Earth jungle, if the jungle was also a savannah. Sparse enough that sunlight didn’t have to fight its way through the canopy, dense enough to watch your footing for protruding roots. It was hot, hotter than the devil’s pits, and Lance was already sweating under his armour. 

‘How’s the air?’ 

‘Safe,’ Hunk replied, checking the data back on his bracer, ‘Shouldn’t need helmets.’

‘Thank God,’ Lance sighed, immediately whipping his off to try and fight the humidity, ‘We know where we’re going?’

‘I’ve got the map,’ Keith said, pulling up a small blinking holograph that was little more than a grid with three blinking dots on it, ‘Coran said we’re looking for the Welkova tree, big and yellow, leaves look like bananas. Grab some of the fruit and get out.’

‘Well with such a precise description, how could we miss it?’ Lance rolled his eyes, but instead of taking the bait, Keith just stomped headfirst into the jungle without acknowledging him. Lance stomped in after him, with Hunk bringing up the exasperated rear.

It was a miserable, sweaty hike over fallen logs, dodging thorny vines that snaked down to perfect face height, and tripping over straggling bushes. The heat seeping into every pore, exhaustion weighing him down. 

‘I think we’re lost,’ Lance called after about half an hour of trekking.

‘We’re not.’

‘Then where is it?’

‘Up ahead.’ Lance could hear Keith’s teeth grinding through his words.

‘You said that last time I said you were lost.’

‘Because I’m not lost,’ Keith whirled around to face him, ‘Can’t you go five minutes without starting something?’ He came close, too close, and Lance felt a heat that was purely muscle memory start in his stomach. His eyes flicked down, barely for a second, to Keith’s mouth. What he knew it was capable of. No, Lance Junior, not the time. Eyes are up here.

‘Guys, can you please not fight?’ Hunk pleaded from behind them.

‘Depends. Can you actually find this stupid tree?’ Too late. Keith had caught him and he knew it. That smug little gleam returned and his anger melted away. 

‘Up,’ he said, very slowly, ‘Ahead.’

Lance didn’t pester him for the rest of the walk. 

More annoying than anything, when they eventually found the godforsaken tree, Keith’s description was kind of spot-on. It was big, it was yellow, and the leaves did look like bananas. Well, more like plantains, the good ones just starting to spot brown, but he didn’t expect a desert hobo to know the difference. Uncultured. 

‘How many of these things do we need?’ Hunk asked, picking one of the small, star-shaped fruits off a branch.

‘One should be enough,’ Keith said, dropping down to gather a few fallen fruits in his hands, ‘But maybe they’re picky, so get a couple just in case.’

Lance grabbed a few fruits - berries? - off the lower branches and bent down to pick a few off the ground too, using his helmet to carry them. He checked to see how many Keith meant by a few, when he saw a huge, fuck off beetle the size of a tarantula hovering inches above the boy’s bare head.

‘Keith,’ he said slowly, ‘Don’t move.’

The red paladin’s body went rigid, ‘Spit it out.’

‘How are you with bugs?’ 

Bad, apparently. Keith Kogane, the same guy who flew straight into laser cannons, punched Sendak, and fought Zarkon alone, jumped to his feet shouting, ‘Kill it, kill it!’ in a voice very at odds with his general broody demeanour, flailing his arms above his head trying to slap the thing away. Lance was too busy laughing, and Hunk was torn between batting half heartedly in Keith’s general direction and hiding from the beast himself to be of much use. Only a sharp zip! and a sudden cry of pain from the red paladin broke him out of his stupor and he staggered over to Keith, now on his knees with one hand planted in the dirt and the other clasped against the side of his neck, hissing and swearing like a teenager whose internet had cut out mid Call of Duty. 

‘Keith, you good?’ He crouched low to try and tilt his head up, but Keith’s face remained firmly on the floor.

‘Hurts ,’ was all he managed.

‘Hunk, call the castle,’ Lance shouted, ‘He got stung. Hey buddy,’

‘Oh, now it’s “buddy”?’

Lance very graciously ignored this, prising his fingers between Keith’s hand and his neck, ‘If you can sass me, you’re not dying. Lemme take a look at you, perfect, thanks.’ He lifted Keith’s hand away, pushed back the ends of his hair pasted down with sweat, to see a big red welt like a pimple without a head bubbling up under his ear. Through his glove, Lance could feel it was warmer than it should have been, even on this hellfire planet. Keith yelped when he poked at it, and his voice sounded small.

‘Is it bad?’

‘Pssh, it’s fine. Tiny. Hunk, ’ he hissed, ‘ Call them, now. ’ Behind him, Hunk had already shoved his helmet on and was babbling to Coran.

‘Lance,’ Beneath him, Keith’s body started to shake, still looking at the floor, ‘I feel weird.’

‘You’re fine,’ Lance replied, a little too firm. Keith would be fine. He would be fine because he was Keith, and anything else was wrong. ‘Let’s just get you home, can you stand?’ He gripped Keith’s free hand and hauled him to his feet, where he stayed for about half a step before crashing into Lance, ‘Okay, that’s a no.’ The second Keith’s face hit his neck, the boy gasped like he was jumping underwater, then sighed, going limp against Lance. Weirdly, instead of taking Lance’s offer of propping up his arm, Keith just… stayed there. The shaking quelled to stillness but he didn’t move, burying himself deeper into Lance, arms wrapping around the blue paladin’s waist. Pressed his face into Lance’s neck and didn’t move when Lance poked him, ‘Come on, vaquero , we gotta move.’

‘Don’t want to.’

‘Too bad,’ he huffed, ‘We need to get you back-’

‘Can’t walk,’ He felt Keith’s lips move against his neck, the slightest brush of teeth on his skin, ‘Need you to carry me. You're so strong...’

Lance pulled himself free to look at Keith. His face was dreamy, and his eyes were slightly glazed. There was a little bloodshotting, but his pupils were even. Concussion was out. He met Lance’s stare and bit back a shy grin, colour flooding his cheeks. Possession was Lance’s first thought. That bug was a demon and it had possessed Keith, because whatever was looking out from his eyes was absolutely not him.

‘Are you messing with me? Don’t pull dumb shit right now, Keith, I’m worried.’ A flicker passed over his face, momentarily afraid, with a small jerk of his body away from and right back to Lance, gone as quick as it came. Now he pouted, and Jesus, that boy had some puppy eyes on him, tightening his grip around Lance.

‘I’m not pulling anything. Why, you don’t want to be my hero?’ He tiptoed up to drag his lips against the shell of Lance’s ear and whisper, ‘I’d be really, really grateful.’

‘Hunk!’

‘No, don’t want Hunk,’ Keith whined, his grip on Lance spasming and unsteady, ‘I want you, Lance. Just you.’

Lance said words his mother would crucify him for saying.

‘Okay, Coran is setting up the med- what is this?’ Hunk had ended the call and finally turned his attention to the pair, Keith wrapped around Lance like a constrictor, Lance bent half backwards trying to create space between them. 

‘Call him again,’ Lance said, pawing at Keith’s arms in a useless effort to free himself, ‘Tell them Keith is broken.’ 

They tried a few more times to persuade Keith to walk between them, for naught. Lance compromised on the carrying with a piggyback, their armour clacking at every step, trekking back towards Blue at double speed with a wriggling Keith whispering in his ear, calling him strong and pretty and a thousand things that sounded terribly wrong coming out his mouth. Hunk led the way with all three helmets and the berries in one arm, map pulled up from the other.

 Lance tried his best to ignore that by wondering just how fucked he was right now. With any luck, they’d shove Keith in a pod, he’d wake up fixed, and this would be nothing more than a mildly awkward misadventure. Yeah, that was it. The pods were great, he’d heard Coran harp on enough while cleaning them. Nothing in the universe a good old pod stint couldn’t fix.

Chapter Text

‘Afraid not, number three,’ Coran switched off the flashlight he was shining into Keith’s eye, commiserating with a pat on the shoulder, ‘You said the little blighter was red?’

‘Red and huge,’ Hunk added, making a circle with his fingers about the size of the beetle, ‘Like, huge .’

‘And was it a bright red or more of a burgundy?’

‘Can I go back to Lance now?’ Keith’s voice was ragged and his face flushed, the vein in his neck popping out from strain.

‘Darker,’ Lance ignored him, ‘Why can’t he go in a pod? What’s the point in having the pods if they can’t fix him!’

Coran shrugged and swivelled in his chair to pull up an information slide on the screens, ‘From the looks of him, and the behavioural… abnormalities,’ that was putting it lightly, ‘As well as your description of the bugger, I would diagnose Nerchemmit Khepera, a large, native insect with some particularly nasty venom.’

‘Nasty how?’ Lance felt cold. Keith was wriggling in the chair they’d strapped him into, openly staring at him. 

‘Nearly always nonfatal, but-’

‘How much is nearly?’ Hunk asked. Lance tried not to look back at Keith, puppy eyes on full display which was not fair at all, ‘Is that information accurate to humans, or Galra? Or Galra-human hybrids?’

‘Humans are similar enough to Alteans that the information should carry over,’ Coran scrolled down the dense wall of Altean text that Lance really should have known how to read by now. Sue him for not having time to study, ‘And if Galra are compatible enough to successfully mate with humans,’

‘Ew.’

‘Then there can’t be too great a difference. Number four’s anatomy is overwhelmingly human though, so I’m not concerned either way.’

‘How much is ‘nearly always’?’ Lance repeated, ‘Red will burn this place down if her paladin gets taken out by a space roofie bug.’

‘The venom itself won’t kill him,’ Coran swivelled back and started unbuckling the straps around Keith’s wrists, holding him to the chair. Immediately upon release, he bolted back into Lance’s arms and sighed like he’d been holding his breath the whole time, ‘It attaches the victim to the first individual that touches him, which I assume was you, number three.’ Lance remembered how Keith had changed as soon as his forehead touched Lance’s neck. Goddammit. He should have laughed for longer, then this would be Hunk’s problem. That's what he gets for being a good teammate, ‘Serotonin, oxytocin, dopamine, he’s high as a kite. The hormonal mix creates a kind of dependence that grows until it burns out, so you need to stay in physical contact as much as possible. Otherwise discomfort becomes pain. Manageable for a bit, but gets worse over time, so we don’t want to prolong it. But our biggest danger is stress. The venom is a neurotoxin, which is why a pod won’t help. It needs to work itself out and significant mental distress could overwhelm his nervous system and put him in serious danger. Stroke, aneurysm, all the things we want to avoid. But that's only in extreme cases, so as long as you boys play nice, we have nothing to worry about.’

‘So what,’ it was hard to gesticulate with Keith’s arms wrapped around him, ‘We just have to let him stay like this until it’s over? There’s no way he can fight or make allies right now!’

Keith’s voice came low and hot against his ear, ‘I know what I can do instead.’ Lance squeaked.

‘Number three, I understand this is less than ideal, but it shouldn’t last beyond a few quintants. A movement at most.’

‘You mean he could be like this for a week ??’ No. No, no, no. A few hours of this weird, clingy not-Keith were already far too much. Days of this would kill him. Repressing his feelings was bad enough during meaningless sex and he'd had months of practise. Repressing his feelings while enduring hugs and compliments and outrageously uncharacteristic flirting was way out of Lance’s wheelhouse, even without walking the tightrope of stopping Keith’s sudden infatuation from exposing them.

Right then, Shiro, Allura, and Pidge burst into the medical wing of the castle.

‘We got the distress call, is everyone-’ Shiro stopped dead by the now empty chair with the girls in tow. Lance had seen the black paladin with a lot of emotions. Angry, afraid, stoic, tired, happy, and sad. Never before had he seen his leader so utterly baffled, eyebrows moving about his face like itchy caterpillars as he tried to make two and two equal six. The others were no better. Allura, wide eyed and blinking profusely, and Pidge with a hand clapped over her mouth that did nothing to stop her laughter.

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ he blurted out. At this, Keith gripped him even tighter, pushing him back an inch to shift his body between Lance and the rest of the team, shooting daggers as if they were there to take him away.

‘Looks like you two finally got over yourselves,’ Pidge lilted, thrilled as a cat in an aviary. 

‘Pidge,’ Shiro warned, more out of reflex than anything, mind still reeling at the sight of Keith wrapped unashamedly around Lance. He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. ‘From the start. What happened?’

As Hunk and Lance explained the situation with a few technical interjections from Coran, he watched Shiro’s face turn from confused to resigned, Allura’s from bewildered to mild amusement, and Pidge go from smug to even smugger, not even bothering to hide her cackle.

‘Now now, everyone, this needn’t be a kerfuffle,’ the princess tried to calm everyone, assuming her regal dignity and stifling her own laughter, traitor, ‘Lance, just give us the Khepera and we can take it to the city’s medics to create an antidote.’ Lance baulked, turning to Hunk, who looked no better, ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Why can’t they just make one?’

Allura blinked, ‘The venom is unique. They need the same indivi-’ She closed her eyes, ‘Lance, please tell me you captured the insect.’

Lance stuttered a few times, looking at Hunk to back him up, who only shrugged, grimacing. Everyone’s a traitor. Keith fingers drew butterfly light circles against his armour, breathing softly against his neck, ‘Nobody told us that,’ he turned to point at Coran, ‘You didn’t tell me that!’

The princess dropped her head in her hands. Pidge laughed even harder.

‘Right, team,’ Shiro clapped his hands to try and get some control, ‘Eat first. Then we can figure out how the hell to play this.’

Lance had managed to fob Keith off on Shiro long enough to change out of his armour, despite Keith’s many, many protestations that he wanted to come. He washed the sweat off him and stripped his plates and undersuit for the shirt and jeans he’d left Earth in. Entering the dining room he was immediately pounced upon by Keith, now wrangled back into his normal clothes, grabbing Lance’s face and peppering it with kisses as Lance tried to bat him off.

‘You were gone for so long,’ Keith sighed. Another kiss on his cheek, ‘I missed you,’ One on his forehead. Lance heard the click of a camera from the table.

‘Pidge if you don’t delete that right now I’m going to break into your room and cut every wire I can- Keith, ¡para! ’ He finally managed to extract his face from the red paladin’s grasp, picking the lesser of two evils and pushing Keith’s arms down to his back, letting him cuddle into his chest.

He managed to get them both sitting in separate chairs, though Keith pulled his own right next to Lance’s so their knees could touch, and tucked into his bowl of goo. It was slimy and tasteless as ever, but he was just glad to have something else to focus on instead of Keith trying to play footsie under the table. 

‘So, Lance,’ Allura cleared her throat, ‘Keith.’ Keith narrowed his eyes at her, left foot wrapping around Lance’s ankle. Dear god, ‘Coran and I have been discussing how best to handle your current… predicament.’

‘You mean their blossoming romance?’

‘Thank you Pidge, that’s quite enough. I have good reason to believe the city council will be understanding once we explain. We are all still expected at the meeting tomorrow.’

‘What? Princess, no way! I can’t go down there with him hanging off me,’ He gestured vaguely to Keith, face on his palm and staring at Lance, ‘It’ll mess up my game!’

‘If your “game” is being polite and incredibly respectful to our prospective allies,’ She raised a thin white eyebrow, ‘Then I fail to see how Keith’s condition will impact it at all. Gaining Eruk as allies is too important to simply wait around for your ego, Lance.’

Lance changed tactics, ‘Come on, princess. How am I meant to dance with your lovely self at the gala if mullet over here won’t- mmph! ’ Keith fisted both hands in Lance’s jacket and pulled him into a kiss, straight on the mouth, in front of their entire team. For a second Lance was blinded, eyes squeezing shut on impulse, and for a moment he forgot why this was so wrong, because Keith was kissing him the way Keith always kissed him. Fast and forceful, a little too hard, hands grasping from his jacket to his neck to his jaw to thread in his hair and pull him closer, and for a moment it felt like it was really Keith, biting down on his bottom lip and wait wait wait. Lance shoved him off and screeched.

‘The hell do you think you’re doing?!’ Lance pushed himself to stand, praying the castle’s airlock would fail and throw him into the vacuum this instant. Keith’s lips, a little swollen and red with spit, pulled to the side in a self satisfied smile, pupils the size of teacups, chest heaving. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared back at the princess, just as aghast as the rest of the team.

‘She was flirting with you.’

‘Wha- no she wasn’t! It was about the mission , Keith. You know, the save the universe mission you never shut up about, that mission!’

‘Okay,’ Shiro tried to mediate, ‘Everyone’s a little tense right now-’

‘Well you were flirting with her!’ Keith matched his volume, standing to square up, face close enough that Lance could see each spidery eyelash, ‘And I don’t know why you keep doing it because she doesn’t want you and I’m the one that-’

‘ Enough!’ He jabbed a finger in Keith’s face, about to yell at him some more, but the other boy pulled his arms around himself. Now he felt like the worst person alive. Too much sadness might actually kill him, Lance reminded himself. Jesucristo, ¿porque me odias? Lance shoved his knuckles in his mouth and bit down hard until he felt rational enough to think. He shook his hand out and said to Keith, careful to keep his voice calm, ‘Okay. We are going to discuss this like adults. Now.’ Grabbing his arm he dragged Keith out without sparing another glance to their teammates, left to bask in the silence. 

He went a little further than strictly necessary after the door shut, not trusting their fellow paladins to leave them alone. Eventually he found a quiet, dusty little corner, steered Keith into it, and faced him, both their arms crossed and stewing. It was the first time since he’d been stung that Keith wasn’t looking him in the face, and Lance’s anger cracked. 

‘I know it’s hard for you,’ he dragged a hand down his face, ‘But you can’t do stuff like this, man.’

‘I got mad.’

‘Yeah,’ he laughed, ‘No shit. But feeling jealous for no reason doesn’t mean you can plant one on me in front of the team. It doesn’t mean you can tell them that we’re- come on, Keith. You know that.’

‘I don’t care anymore,’ Keith dropped his arms to grab at Lance’s jacket, ‘Why are we hiding? I want them to know I’m yours,’

Lance stepped back, ‘Stop. You don’t mean that.’

‘I was scared before, but Lance, I’m not anymore,’ he tried again to get closer. Again Lance stepped back, ‘I hate it when you flirt with Allura.’

‘You know it isn’t like that anym-’

‘I hate it when you flirt with anyone, I hated that girl on Cygni Pictoris even though it’s not on her how I feel and I wanted to hate you too but I can’t! Why am I not enough for you, what am I doing wrong?’

‘That’s not fair,’ Lance shook his head, trying to keep himself steady, ‘You went off too, I saw you. That isn’t fair, Keith.’

****

The battle of Cygni Pictoris was a spectacular win for Voltron. Without a single allied casualty, they’d destroyed two Galra cruisers and chased four more out of the system. Lance had got a knock that was less a real injury and more an excuse to wear a bandage on his wrist and make him look like even more of a hero. It also had the side effect of making him very, very popular with the locals. He and Keith had only been fooling around for a month or so, it was still new, still tenuous, and Lance was still swimming in a certain Egyptian river. And if the locals on this planet were exceptionally pretty, tall with slender, graceful limbs, swirling silver tattoos on their grey skin, big dark eyes, and long, pale hair curling around their delicate features; all the better.

Lance had been charming one of these pretty locals, a high voiced, waifish girl named Etiane who wanted nothing more than to hear about his tales of adventure and fighting the empire. Over her shoulder Lance could see Keith, for once in his life actually talking to someone at a party. The other man was tall, everyone was here. He was taller than Lance, looked stronger than him too, the strange fashions of the Cygniets showing enough of his torso for Lance to spot the definition from across the party hall, and he was making Keith laugh. Whatever. He didn’t care. What was so funny? Fuck it. Lance shook his head and smiled back at Etiane, resolved to forget Keith and the stupid, strong man he’d found that was just sooo hilarious. 

So when, as the party had reached full swing, Etiane bent down to whisper, ‘I know which rooms are empty,’ he followed her without a second thought, eyes laser focused to the back of her head to avoid them wandering. It was fine. Nothing mind blowing, however much he wanted it to be, but every time his flirting got him anywhere he counted it a win. There were a few, um, anatomical distinctions that meant neither of them really knew what they were doing, and if Lance had ended up faking it that was between him and God. 

Either she was better at faking than him or Cygniets were easy to please because she giggled and held onto his arm all the way back to the hall. He felt like a jerk, but he couldn’t give her his attention, scanning the hall as soon as they returned and finding one black-haired paladin missing, along with one tall, strong, apparently funny native he’d been hanging with. He felt a flare in his chest and promptly shovelled it deep in his stomach and determined to enjoy the rest of the night. When he saw Keith making his way back in later in the night, when he saw the other guy come in a few moments after, hair a mess and face pleasantly flushed, he pretended he didn’t.

After that, he and Keith didn’t meet up for a while, by their standards. It was about two weeks before Lance’s stupid feelings got the better of him and he pinned Keith against the training room shower stall, sucking angry red marks under his collarbone and fumbling with his belt.

‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked against Keith’s skin, smiling when his breath hitched.

‘Here,’ he said, ‘Like always. What’s got into you?’

Lance reached down to grab at Keith’s bulge through his pants, mouthing up to the red paladin's neck as his hips stuttered into Lance’s hand, his arms wrapped around Lance’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself.

‘Is this how he touched you?’

Keith’s adam’s apple bobbed against his teeth. ‘Yes.’

‘Was it good?’

‘For fuck’s sake, La- ah- ance,’ Lance reached into his boxers and squeezed the base of him, drawing back from Keith’s throat to meet his eye, blown out and heavy lidded. He drew his hand up Keith’s length until his thumb pressed against the head, soft and a little slick with precome.

‘Was he better?’ He stroked him slowly, gently, watching his head fall back against the wall as he hissed.

‘No,’ he said eventually, his breath was already ragged and he was staring at the ceiling, still somehow beautiful under the shitty fluorescents, ‘Was she?’

Lance’s free hand reached the back of Keith’s head and rushed in to kiss him. 

‘I fucking wish,’ he murmured against the red paladin’s mouth before sinking down to the tiles.

****

‘Only because I was jealous!’ Keith picked up Lance’s hands in his own, bringing them to his lips, ‘And I told you, I already told you, you know it wasn’t the same,’

‘Please, Keith,’

‘Nobody makes me feel like you do,’ he used their joined hands to pull Lance closer until their foreheads touched, ‘And I’m sick of sharing.’

‘This isn’t real,’ Lance muttered, shaking off Keith’s hold and bringing his hands to the other’s jaw, ‘This is venom, okay? It’s messing with you.’ It’s making him say this, he told himself, His brain’s all fried and it’s screwing with his memories . Knowing didn’t stop his pulse going haywire. This needed to end, right now. He forgot about stress, forgot about playing along, he needed it to end. ‘Do you hear that, asshole?’ Lance held Keith’s face in both hands, scanning his eyes desperately for the usual fire, dumbed down into a warm fuzz, ‘Look at me. You in there?’

Keith giggled, actually giggled , and Lance’s stomach dropped down to his knees. He scrunched up his nose and leaned up and into Lance, too close. ‘Always.’

‘I’m not talking to the bug, mullet, I’m talking to you. Come on. Come on ,’ He squeezed his hands tighter on Keith’s cheeks, ‘Call me an idiot.’

‘But you’re not an idiot,’

‘Jesus-’

‘Lance, you must know I’ve never really thought that,’ he stepped closer, brushing the tips of their noses together and letting his eyes slide shut, one hand reaching to cover Lance's hold on his face with the other tugging at Lance’s jacket, ‘Or I wouldn’t want you so much.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he used his hands to shove Keith a few paces backwards, ‘Not doing this. Santa madre ayudame , we are not doing this. Don’t tell me that. How can one godforsaken beetle-’ He rubbed his eyes and saw the despair on Keith’s face, ‘Hey, hey, come on man, please don’t look at me like that.’ His hands twitched, unable to decide if bringing him back for a hug was a good idea. Keith’s stare grew wild, flitting all across his face and morphing into something foreign.

‘Lance?’

‘I’m sorry, I'm sorry. It’s not your fault,’

‘Lance, something's wrong.’

He froze. Keith was backing away from him, clenching and unclenching his fists like he wasn’t sure they were his own, staring up at him in horror.

‘Keith,’ Lance approached him like a wild animal, slowly, with his hands open, ‘That you?’

‘Obviously it’s me you fucking i-’

‘Okay, that’s good.’ Lance had never been so happy to see him angry, ‘How do you feel?’

‘Something’s wrong with me,’ his eyes dropped down to his hands and his voice was shaky, breaking off towards the end, ‘It hurts. I can’t- Lance, I can’t,’

‘I know,’ he said softly, ‘I know.’

‘I don’t feel like I’m awake.’

‘You’re okay,’ he reached out to Keith’s shoulder, squeezing it, but he didn’t relax. Not that a whole bucket of horse tranquillizer could calm either of them, ‘It’s temporary. You’re just loopy. It won’t last, but you need to take it easy.’

‘Don’t listen to me,’ his head was shaking fast, ‘Please. I’ll say anything, I’ll-’ Keith staggered back as if he’d been kicked in the head, and Lance’s hand flew from his shoulder to wrap around his arm and keep him upright.

‘I won’t,’ he said firmly, relief and shameful disappointment flooding him in equal parts, ‘It’s not you. I know that, I won’t hold you to it, and nothing’s gonna happen when you’re under.’ Was it the right time to lighten the mood? ‘You aren’t that irresistible.’

This, at least, drained some of the stiffness from his shoulders, ‘But the team-’

‘All know you’re drugged.’ Lance reached to hold both of Keith’s arms as if he might float away, ‘No-one’s gonna find out, alright? Let me handle it, just try and do what I ask. I'll look after you for a few days and then it’s over, I promise. We’ll never bring it up.’

Keith pressed his fists to his eyes, face contorted in something Lance knew the shape but not the name of, ‘You can - fuck - please kiss me again. When we’re alone, it- it helps. But I’m-’ His breathing dropped to erratic, like each inhale was a conscious effort, ‘Not like this,’ He grew so quiet Lance barely heard him say, ‘I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s not your- Keith?’ Keith tripped forward into Lance’s chest, breathing fast and shallow, shaking all over. Lance felt something wet where his face was hiding. As soon as his hands came up to wrap Lance’s middle in a vice, he knew Keith was gone again. The trembling stilled into a gentle sway as Keith hummed against his shirt. Lance felt his heart fall down to the bottom of a big, gaping well as he held Keith tight in the hallway, stroking his hair and dreading the moment he had to look at his blank, dead eyes again.

A few minutes that felt much longer passed before Keith calmed down enough to loosen his grip on Lance and reach up to press a long, sweet kiss on his cheek. Lance shut his eyes and let Keith stoke his thumb across his jaw, fingers still curled in his hair.

‘Hey,’ Keith said softly, ‘You okay?’

Lance took a moment to gather himself before opening his eyes, seeing Keith look up at him with so much warmth and care he knew wasn’t real. He forced a smile on his face and brushed Keith’s hair off his neck. While Keith sank back into the spell, Lance had formed a plan. All they needed to do was follow it.

‘Peachy. You must be hungry, we should go back and finish our food. The others are probably waiting.’

‘I don’t want to go back.’ Keith scowled, ‘You change when we’re with them.’

He wished he hadn’t seen this coming. ‘What can I say? You make me nervous.’ He dropped a quick kiss on the top of Keith’s hair, keeping him relaxed while Lance said his piece, ‘Tell you what, I think we can make a deal, yeah?’

A few more kisses across his cheek and jaw, ‘Depends on the terms.’

Typical. Even all love-drugged up, Keith never made it easy for him. Lance steeled the last of his nerves and laid out his cards. ‘I’m all yours. I was already but now I'll act like it. No flirting with Allura, not with anyone. Nobody else, you’ve got all my attention, all the hugs and hand holding you want.’

‘I like it,’ Keith’s fingers snaked up into his hair, ‘What’s the catch?’

Lance braced himself, ‘No kissing in front of the team,’ Keith stilled, ‘We can in private but it’s different and new. I’m, um, I’m shy.’

‘You’re shy !’ He had contemplated a few possible reactions. Scorn, adamant refusal, reluctant acceptance. But not laughter. Chiming, boyish laughter against his shoulder, ‘Since when?’

‘And no sex.’

‘Well obviously not in front of-’

‘At all.’

Keith stopped laughing. He pulled back from Lance’s shoulder to stare at him, hand tightening to a hold in his hair, ‘Why not?’

‘I just,’ he had this all planned out. Down to the word. But something about Keith made him stupid, especially when he was holding him and touching his face and looking up at him with those big dark eyes all sparkling, ‘I just think, while we’ve got this mission, we shouldn't get distracted. We need to focus, and now tha-’

‘It hasn’t bothered you on any other mission.’

Shit, ‘Yes, but,’ think, McLain, ‘But, but this time you got hurt.’ Right, he could work with that, ‘And, you know, that’s not, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take anymore. We need to focus, okay? Just until we get some downtime. A few days.’

‘Why is everyone making such a big deal? I don’t feel hurt,’ Keith’s scowl returned, deeper than ever. Ay, hijueputa , what was in that stuff? ‘You’ve all been treating me like a child since we got back.’ New strategy, quick. Luckily, a lifetime of arguing with children had him well versed in negating persistence.

‘Of course, you don’t feel hurt,’ Lance smiled again, ‘You’re tough. But you got hurt and it scared me. I need to be on my guard, and you…’ He leaned his head down to touch their foreheads and let Keith press into him, ‘Are distracting enough as it is.’ It felt strangely freeing to say things he’d bottled up for months. Despite the circumstances and despite the fact he’d take it all back the moment Keith woke up for real, it was nice to see him smile, nice to be wanted by him, nice to make believe, even for a little while. ‘So what’dya say?’

Keith looked up at him, face open and trusting. Without the permanent set of anxiety running through him, he looked a lot younger. He almost looked his age. ‘Fine,’ he nodded, ‘I can last a few days.’

He tipped his head up and kissed Lance again, with none of the heat of the dinner table. This time it was slow and chaste, the last candle after a bonfire. Lance could only remember one other kiss like that, and then he was set. Sure, it would be hard, and it would hurt. But this wasn't about him. Keith, however conscious he was beneath the haze, was suffering, and it was his job now to make the whole affair as painless as possible, to play along and keep him relaxed so his brain didn't explode. He could do that. He could put his unfortunate, inconvenient feelings to the side and be whatever this fucking beetle-Keith needed him to be. It was only a few days.

They held hands back to the dining hall where the others had finished their plates and were so preoccupied talking about how to handle Keith and Lance that they didn’t have time to cover it up when Keith and Lance came in. Silently, they took their seats and resumed eating their half finished bowls of goo. Keith stared a hole in the table until Lance nudged him, looking pointedly between him and the rest of the team. He huffed but lifted his head.

‘Sorry Allura.’ 

The princess’ eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and she glanced over at Shiro, who shrugged. 

‘Thank you Keith. If there’s anything I can do to make-’

‘We’re okay,’ he said, attention returning to his food, empty hand reaching down to hold Lance’s. He almost hid his gritted teeth, ‘But I appreciate it. Do we have a plan for Eruk?’

Chapter Text

The plan, as Shiro explained, was simple, and only slightly changed from their original. Keith’s situation would be made clear to the council superiors, they would be present for the gifting for the seed and the treaty signing, but not the specific negotiations. That suited Lance just fine, as opposed to managing a handsy Keith at a very serious table discussing mining logistics and resource allocations for hours on end. Instead the two of them would mostly be ‘cultural diplomats’, which was a nice way of saying tourists.

‘Allura and I need to prepare the last of our alliance requests before the formal presentation tomorrow. Corna will be sorting through the seeds to find the best one to give them tomorrow. Pidge, fine tune the green lion and make sure she won’t have any issues withstanding the water pressure for an extended time. Hunk, go give her a hand, and you two,’ he looked up at Lance, and Keith, no longer satisfied with hand holding and instead grasping onto Lance’s elbow, ‘Study up on the city. If you’re going to be our cultural ambassadors,’

‘Tourists.’

‘Shall we swap?’ Lance sunk down in his chair, ‘Thought so. If you’re going to be our cultural ambassadors, then you need to know what you’re looking at. Coran has compiled some research material for you two to go through in the study.’

‘Great,’ he deadpanned, ‘Homework.’

‘I’ll ignore that,’ Shrio said flatly, ‘Right, Voltron. You all know what to do. Have at it.’

Contrary to popular opinion, Lance wasn’t bad at studying. The Garrison didn’t really have room for it. No, he could do it alright, but that didn’t mean he liked it. If you’d told Lance that flying alien psychic robot lions still came with homework, he might have thought a bit harder about sneaking out that night. He’d made notes and colour coded flashcards about Eruk’s main cultural taboos (sneezing, lateness, finishing your food before your host), their exports, their other allies, architecture, customs, the city’s main points of interest, until his brain felt like sand. He looked up from his tablet to see Keith, feet stretched out into Lance’s lap, scowling at the tablet like it was biting him.

‘What’s with the face?’

‘There’s no face,’ he scowled deeper, wriggling about the couch, ‘This is boring.’

‘Mm,’ Lance inched up, set his tablet down, and Keith fidgeted some more, ‘Did you train this morning?’

Keith huffed at the tablet, scrolling down to stop his eyes glazing over, ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I overslept,’ He dropped the tablet down next to him, ‘We were up late.’

‘Oh, it’s my fault?’

‘I didn’t say that,’

‘Chill, buddy, I’m messing with you,’ he tapped Keith’s feet to scoot them off his lap, stood, and held his hand back to help Keith off the couch, ‘That’ll be why you’re restless. Like a toddler, gotta tire you out.’

Keith crossed his arms, ‘I am not.’

‘Dude, you totally are. Every time you skip training you get so pissy and can’t focus on anything. Come, I’ll come with you, get a few gladiator rounds in then come back to this. Sound good?’

Keith looked up at him, moody frown melting away into a small, shy smile, before he took Lance’s hand to pull himself up, entwining their fingers and letting Lance lead him down the hall to the training room.

Lance didn’t watch Keith train often. Maybe he would have to change that. Keith moved like a dancer; a really angry, sexy dancer. Ducking, rolling, striking out at the hologram, carving pixelated chunks out of it that regenerated as soon as they were lost. Keith looked good in his element. A confidence strung through him that Lance only ever saw when the door was closed. Block, parry, slash, and stab. The opponent lunged forwards and Keith dropped to the floor, rolling around to cut off the simulation’s leg before pouncing up like a viper and wrapping his arms around its neck. In the middle of a fight, Keith barely registered the distance from Lance. It was nice to have a break, nice to see him act like himself again, nice to watch his shirt ride up to show the strip of muscle Lance always loved to stroke while he was on his knees.

Keith didn’t notice the door whizz open and Shiro walking in. The black paladin watched his brother fight until his eyes drifted to Lance, watching from a bench at the southern wall of the deck. The simulation dissolved into three separate soldiers that surrounded Keith on each side. Shiro crossed the nearby wall and came to sit beside Lance on the bench.

‘Thought I gave you two homework.’ He said, without any real hardness.

Lance shrugged, ‘You know what he’s like,’ he replied, ‘Can’t focus until he beats the shit out of something for an hour.’ 

They watched Keith slash a hologram vertically in two, only for it to reform into two smaller soldiers that rushed back at him, until Shiro shifted him his seat and tugged at the white shock of hair at his crown.

‘You don't have to handle this, you know,’

‘He might die,’

‘Coran has briefed us on the risks.’ Shiro looked like he would rather be back in the Galra death fights than having this conversation, ‘But we hadn’t known there would be such a… physical element,’

‘Shiro, it’s fine-’

‘I mean it, Lance,’ his leader steeled his face into calm sternness, ‘I know what Keith needs right now, but if it’s too much for you then you don’t have to do it. We can figure out how to keep him safe. If it’s more than you- I know you two don’t get along the best. The last thing I want is for him, however much it is him, to take things too far and make it even worse.’

Lance took a moment to catch up. His eyes widened and he ducked his head to hide his embarrassment, ‘Jesus, Shiro,’

‘I’m just saying-’

‘I know, I know,’ he pulled the strings at his jacket to shrink the hood around his face, ‘He’s fine, okay? Eager, sure, but not, like, forceful or anything.’ Lance chuffed out an empty chuckle, ‘He’s too obsessed with me to try anything I’ve said no to. Don’t worry, man, it’s all above the belt.’ Lance tried not to cringe at himself. He could feel his leader’s eyes on him, watched Keith dive out of the way of the hologram’s strike, and said, ‘He woke up. In the hallway, only for a minute or so.’

Shiro stiffened, ‘He did?’

‘Yeah,’ Lance felt hollow, ‘He was fucking terrified. I-’ he couldn’t trust himself to speak. Lance closed his eyes, cleared his throat, and tried again, ‘I don’t know how awake he is now. Maybe he can see it, but he can’t control it. It’s not his fault; Jesus, it’s not even him , and I can’t hold that against him. I told him I would handle it. However bad it’s gonna be when he wakes up for real,’ Lance sighed, ‘I can’t be the one to make it worse.’ 

‘Not if it crosses your boundaries.’ Shiro reminded him, ‘You still matter, Lance. You’re just as much a part of this team.’

Lance waved him off, ‘I know, I know. And when I’m the one in a space-bettle drug trance, I’ll hold you all to it. But right now it’s him, and we need him. I can play along. I don’t mind, Shiro, I don’t.’ 

Shiro clapped a hand on Lance’s shoulder, ‘You’re being very mature about this, Lance. I’m proud of you, just don’t push yourself too far.’

Lance tried not to laugh. Cogs turned in his brains. Wait, he thought, here was his chance. He cleared his throat again, ‘I think it’s messing with his memories though,’ he said, coughing into his hand, ‘He, he um, thinks we’re together. Me and him. Acts like it, talks like it. Gets upset if I or anyone else thinks otherwise. Makes sense, I guess, given what’s going on in his head, but,’ Lance licked his lips, watched Keith stab another hologram straight through the chest, ‘If he says anything, just play along. It’ll keep him calm. Just play along. I’m fine with it.’

Shiro clapped him again on the shoulder, then dropped his hand into his own lap, ‘Are you sure you’re okay with this? The elders might be able to figure something out.’ Thank god, Lance thought, it seems like he bought it. Now if Keith had another outburst, Shiro could write it off for the rest of Voltron. 

Lance shook his head, ‘Coran told me about the possibilities, and I- I don’t want to risk it. If it’s a toss up between a little awkwardness and Keith having a stroke, I’ll pick the awkwardness. We can’t afford to lose him.’ 

The last of the holograms collapsed under Keith’s bayard. He shot up from where he knelt, sword plunged into the hologram’s dissipating chest, and beamed at Lance.

‘Did you see that?’

Lance clapped his hands, ‘Well done, man. You did good.’

Keith bounded across the deck, dropping to sit cross legged before Lance and place his chin atop Lance’s knees, barely sparing a glance to his brother, ‘Hi Shiro. Did you see the second sentry? It nearly had me on the uppercut.’

Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, Keith closing his eyes and letting himself relax under Lance’s fingers, ‘That’s why you’re our samurai.’

Keith opened his eyes and bit into Lance’s knee until the blue paladin kicked him softly in the ribs, ‘I was wondering,’ he bit his lip, ‘If you wanted to spar with me?’

Lance felt Shiro’s eyes heavy on him. He was allowed to say no. Shiro would help him if he said no. 

Keith reached up to grab his hand and squeeze it. 

‘Sure,’ Lance smiled down at him, ‘Show me what you got, mullet.’

They agreed on no weapons, given Keith’s significant advantage at hand-to-hand combat. Lance crouched down into a guard stance, with Keith circling him like a vulture. Neither of them struck, dancing around each other, waiting for an opening. Lance saw a drop in the red paladin’s guard and struck out with his fist. Keith caught it in his hand and levered up to wrap Lance's hand around his back, forcing him to bend or break. Lance struck out with his other hand, aiming at Keith’s neck, chopping it hard enough to wind Keith and wrench himself free. 

Lance saw Keith’s grin, manic, as he rolled his neck out and bent his knees to prepare for another attack. This time Keith was quicker, kicking out at Lance’s unprotected ribcage and swivelling back to push him by the shoulder down to the floor. Lance flung his feet out to try and catch Keith on the jaw, but he caught his ankle and threw it back down. Lance slapped up at his face, too unco-ordinated to avoid Keith’s agile hands that grabbed and slammed him down to the padded training deck, settling his weight over Lance’s hips and looking down on him, hair wild, face flushed and smile wider than Lance had ever seen it. 

‘Mmm,’ Keith said, teeth shining in the shadow where his head blocked the light, pressing himself down just enough for Lance to feel it, ‘I remember this.’

****

Lance knew where to find Keith after he’d gotten out of the healing pod. Would it be the medbay, or resting in his room, like a normal person? Of course not. Keith’s reaction to getting his ass kicked and being shot in the shoulder was to go straight to the training room and get his ass kicked some more, like a fucking maniac. 

Sure enough, he walked into the deck to find Keith dodging seven armed holograms, stabbing through the photon chest of one before ducking down to avoid a swipe from another, rolling out and up to decapitate a third.

‘End simulation!’ Lance called out, and the false sentries dissolved into nothing. Keith whipped around, chest heaving and face shining with sweat, storming up to him with his bayard still out.

‘Fuck off, Lance. I’m too busy for your shit right now.’

‘No,’ he met Keith in the middle and jabbed a finger in his chest, ‘ You fuck off. What the hell did you think you were doing?’

‘Someone had to go in and get-’

‘Get himself killed? Was that your big plan?’

Keith threw his hands up, ‘What was I supposed to do?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Lance pretended to think, ‘Maybe wait for fucking backup before rushing at a dozen guards and making me drag your ass back to Red while you bleed out!’

‘Well you were there and now we’re fine so I don’t see what your fucking problem is.’

‘My problem?’ Lance scoffed, ‘My problem is that one of these days we won’t be around to save you from whatever stupid shit you decide to pull, and you know damn well how hard it is to find someone else to fly your bitchy mama lion. Like it or not we’re a team, asshole, so put your fucking ego to the side and stop trying to be the hero.’ He shoved Keith at the end, sending him staggered before catching himself. Keith rushed and shoved Lance back. It turned into pushing, then grappling, the full on fight. 

‘I’m not trying to be a hero-’ Keith kicked out at Lance’s ankles and Lance grabbed his shirt to bring them down together. 

‘Then work with us instead of running off!’ They landed on the floor, still clawing at each other until Keith had his forearm to Lance’s throat, sitting astride his stomach, and one hand slammed on the floor, batting Lance’s free hand from pushing his head back. He set his weight back on Lance’s hips and no no no please move please move.

‘Get the fuck off me,’ Lance squirmed under him which only made it worse, trying to buck Keith off, but he was stronger and kept his place, slamming Lance back down on the floor, ‘Keith-’

‘I’m not running off, I’m trying to-’ Keith sat up. Oh no. Oh no . Lance used his free hand to shove at Keith’s shoulder, but he snapped his arm out to Lance’s wrist and pinned it to the floor. Keith dropped all his weight on Lance’s hips and stared at him, fury breaking down into something sinister. He narrowed his eyes at Lance and - oh dear God - his lips peeled back into a predatory grin.

‘Holy shit,’ Keith laughed, ‘Oh, I get it now.’

‘Keith, absolutely not-’

‘What,’ he pushed his hips down on Lance's hardness, ‘Come in here and start a fight with me so you can jerk off to it later? That’s what this is about?’

‘Fuck you,’ he spat, ‘You’re sitting on it, don’t take it personally.’

‘Is that why you’re always pissing me off? Get me mad so you have something to picture in the showers? You’re unbelievable.’

Lance stared up at Keith, panting and leering down at him, every limb stuck to the floor, ‘Ew, as if! My dick would shrink back into my fucking stomach.’

‘That’s not what it’s doing now,’

‘It’s biological,’ Lance tried to wrench his arms from Keith’s grip, but he held firm, ‘You’re the one who’s grinding on it.’

‘Believe me,’ Keith leaned back down, nearly nose-to-nose with Lance, ‘You wouldn’t last two minutes if I was.’

Lance’s heart stopped. He twitched, and Keith felt it. This was not happening. ‘Get off me.’

‘Call mercy,’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Call mercy,’ Keith pressed himself down on Lance’s erection, making the blue paladin throw his head back against the linoleum, ‘And I’ll help you.’

The words didn’t process until the shock of pressure on his aching cock subsided. Help him. Help him? 

‘You’re messing with me.’

‘I’m not,’ Keith hummed, ‘Maybe if I touch your dick, you’ll get off mine for once.’

Lance was running out of arguments, ‘But that’s gay.’

‘A guy is sitting on you and you’re hard,’ he laughed again, ‘ That’s gay, Lance.’ He stared down at him, his eyes far too sure. Lance planted his feet on the floor and put every ounce of effort into not bucking up. Keith leaned down, close enough for his cheek to brush Lance’s as he whispered in his ear, ‘Tell me you don’t want to. Tell me you’d rather run away and touch yourself alone, thinking about my hand on you. Anyone’s hand. I’ll go. Or I can do it for you. Just call mercy.’

His hair tickled Lance’s jaw, ass still pressing down on Lance’s dick. Fuck, fuck! When did Keith get hot? He could feel himself leaking into his briefs. Lance screwed his eyes shut, swallowed his pride, and made the worst decision of his entire life.

‘Mercy.’

Keith bit down on his neck, kissing it to soothe the sting, ‘Say I’m the better pilot,’ he murmured against Lance’s skin.

Lance’s hips stuttered up to meet Keith’s, ‘Go fuck yourself.’

Another press of Keith’s ass that made Lance groan, ‘Say it. Tell me you want me to touch you.’

There wasn’t enough blood in his brain to think. ‘You’re the better pilot,’ he gasped, ‘Touch me. Fuck, please touch me.’

He shoved his hand down Lance’s jeans, wrapping around him and squeezing- oh, fuck . Keith’s other hand moved to loosen his belt and drag Lance’s cock out of his underwear until the head pressed against his stomach, precome smeared down the length under Keith’s palm to ease the burn of friction. It felt electric,  Keith’s hips still grinding at the top of his thighs as his hand moved up and down Lance. The weight of him was too much for Lance to fuck up properly into Keith’s hand, keeping him still and completely at Keith’s mercy, too fast, too fast. The soft leather of Keith’s gloves - Jesus, he hadn't even taken them off - added a roughness that edged the pleasure of someone else on him for the first time in months. Lance tried to keep himself quiet until Keith’s thumb ran across the slit of his head and he moaned, slapping a hand over his mouth to quiet it. 

The hand that was not on Lance’s dick came up to pull his wrist back and pin it back again. Keith leant back down to bite his earlobe, ‘Don’t try and play the virgin now,’ he said, ‘Are you gonna fucking come like this? When anyone could walk in.’ Lance bit his lip and moaned, Keith’s hand speeding up, his hips rising to let Lance’s buck up and match his rhythm, every nerve on fire as Keith stroked and squeezed him. ‘This is why you fight with me, isn’t it? This is what you wanted, all this time, this whole fucking time.’

Keith was grinding down into Lance’s thigh, the size of him clear through two layers of denim, and when the hem of Keith’s glove caught against the head of his cock, Lance’s unrestrained hand shot up to grab the hair at Keith’s nape and pull hard, fucking up into his hand as his soul left his body and he came in hot, spasming spurts across Keith’s hand, unable to stop the sounds he made. Keith’s movements slowed, stroking through the high until he cried out, juttering with aftershocks. He released Lance’s wrist, wiped the come off his gloved hand on Lance’s t-shirt, and tucked him back into his jeans.

‘One minute and twenty-seven seconds,’ he said, pushing himself to his feet, with one last grasp of Lance’s oversensitive cock that left him whimpering, ‘Sounds about right.’

Still trying to come down from his high, Lance panted on his back as he heard Keith padding out of the training room, the door whiz open, and then shut. Keith was gone. Keith was gone and his shirt was smeared with drying come. Keith was gone after getting him off quicker than he’d ever gotten off before. Lance was fucked.

*****

‘Keith,’ Lance warned, ‘Shiro is watching.’

Keith huffed, ‘No fun. Call it,’ he gripped harder on Lance’s wrists, leaning down to speak low in his ear, ‘Won’t get the happy ending, but I can always make it up to you.’

Lance froze. Keith mouthed down his neck, biting into the sensitive skin until a sharp clap bolted him upright. Lance turned his head to see Shiro looming over them. Dear god. Dear god, strike him down. Dear ground, please swallow him up. Him and his horribly timed semi.

‘I think you’re done for the day,’ the black paladin said, mouth set into a hard line, ‘Dinner’s nearly ready.’

Dinner passed with stilted small talk and thankfully none of the incidents of lunch. Keith was happy enough with his fingers entangled with Lance’s, and Lance was just glad that nobody brought attention to it. Shiro’s odd glances back at them were uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He’d already said that Keith had messy memories. That would be enough. It would be enough. Hunk had tried to spice up the goo and they all complimented him on it, bar Keith, far too busy stroking the folds of Lance’s knuckles. Lance tried to sound pleased but the goo just tasted like cement in his mouth. He lingered to clear the plates, hand wash the dishes before loading them in the washer, all to avoid the moment he knew was coming. One by one, their teammates filed out, leaving him and Keith alone in the kitchen.

Keith yawned, jaw stretching open and the back of his hand coming up to poorly hide it, ‘I don’t know why I’m so sleepy,’ he fought to keep his eyes open, tugging on Lance’s arm to pull him closer until their faces were a barely inch apart, ‘Can we go to bed?’

‘But we need to finish the-’

‘Leave it until the morning,’ Keith’s hand snaked up his arm to reach up to the hood of his jacket, gripping it to pull Lance in close and wrap both hands around his neck, ‘You said all the cuddles I want. I’m calling it in.’

And how could Lance deny that? He let Keith lead him by the hand back to Keith’s bedroom, relieved that at least they only kept the lube in Lance’s, and let Keith push off his jacket, but stripped off his jeans by himself. Keith folded down the covers and claimed the wall side as Lance snuggled in beside him, pulling Keith into his chest. It was easier than he thought to hold Keith still, going boneless in Lance’s arms, one hand trailing gentle lines up and down Lance’s ribs, the other tucked under his cheeks, stroking softly back and forth across his cheekbone. His eyes were fixed on Lance’s face with the same shy smile as before playing at his mouth, shuffling to get closer to Lance until their feet tangled together and Lance could feel the heat radiating off him. 

‘Hi,’ Lance couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

‘Hi,’ Keith bit his lip, tipping his head up to nose at Lance’s mouth, ‘We’re alone.’

‘We are.’

‘Do I get a kiss goodnight?’

Lance’s hand threaded up to his hair as he took in Keith’s face. Placid, calm, and utterly devoid of all the things that made it Keith. A stranger wearing the eyes, nose, and lips he loved the most. He remembered Keith in the hallway, face strained with the energy it took to stay conscious, his voice breaking as he said ‘please kiss me again’. But this stranger looked up at him, covers bundled  over his bare shoulders, with so much hope, with a coy little grin pulling up at his teeth, that Lance wound a hand up to his jaw and kissed him. Please kiss me again. Did that make it alright, Lance wondered, to enjoy it? Or was that even worse? Keith sighed into the kiss and Lance shut his eyes tighter, pushing everything he wished for through his mouth and into Keith’s. Please come back and I’m sorry I called you an asshole , and If it was really you I’d figure out how to let go. But this Keith, the Keith that was everything he wanted and so, so far from it, only held his face tighter and brought their bodies flush together. He darted his tongue out at Lance’s bottom lip, opening on reflex, and licked into Lance’s mouth, swinging his leg up to curl around Lance’s hip.

‘Keith,’ Lance broke off to mutter, ‘You know we can’t.’

‘Can’t,’ Keith ran his hands down Lance’s chest, ‘Or don’t want to? Because I’ve missed you.’

‘You had me last night,’

‘Not enough,’ Keith pulled Lance back into him, ‘I always miss you. I miss you when you’re still here. I miss you every second I’m not touching you. I want you, Lance,’

‘Keith,’

‘I want you so much I feel like I could die from it,’ He pushed Lance back to straddle his hips, leaning down to press hot, open mouthed kisses against his neck, ‘I want to feel you, want to taste you,’

‘We said not until the mission-’

‘There’s always a mission. I know you want to fuck me, you think I never caught you staring? You can, I want you to. I want it.’

Lance woke up, ‘Keith, stop.’

Keith froze, his hand clasping tight on Lance’s shoulder, lips hovering a hair’s breadth over his skin.

****

It had taken two long weeks for Lance to acknowledge what had happened. His rival had jerked him off. His rival had jerked him off and he was always thinking about it, wanted more, could no longer get himself off without picturing it. But he couldn’t yet bring himself to look at Keith properly, much less admit any of that to him. They had formed Voltron once but everyone agreed it had felt tenuous, even if only two of them knew why.

This time Keith had found him, wandering the observation deck, trying to pick out something familiar in the smattering of constellations shifted by distance into unfamiliarity. It was late and they’d all already gone to bed, but Lance was finding it hard to sleep. He hadn’t heard Keith approach, footsteps silent as a cat when he wanted to be. 

‘Do you regret it?’ His voice from the darkness behind him made Lance jump, clutching at his chest and whipping around to face Keith, face pale and strangely shadowed in the dim emergency floor lights.

‘Jesus, don't sneak up on me like that,’

‘Is that why you’re being weird,’ Keith came closer, arms crossed and face carefully blank, ‘You regret it?’

‘No,’ Lance laughed, but it was hollow. It was too hard to look at Keith. He fidgeted with the zip on his jacket, ‘M’being weird because I don’t. It was good, and that’s weird.’

‘Because it’s gay?’

Lance shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair, ‘I’m fine with gay stuff, mullet, it’s just,’ he waved a hand at Keith.

‘Just not with me,’ 

‘You hate me!’ he threw his hands up, ‘We can’t go five minutes without arguing-’

‘Because you start it,’

‘And yet you wanna touch my dick and now I want to touch yours too and I don’t know where the fuck to go from here!’ The silence could have shattered glass. Lance flicked up to see Keith’s face, mouth slack and eyes wide in shock, and pulled his hood up, ‘See, this is why I wasn’t going to-’

‘You can touch mine,’ Keith interrupted, slowly uncrossing his arms to shove his hands in his pocket, ‘If you want.’ Lance eyed him like a wolf as he came closer, like he might pull the rug at any moment and reveal this grand trick for what it was, just another way to get one over him, ‘Who knows?’ Keith shrugged, ‘Maybe it’ll stop us fighting so much.’

‘You wanna do this again?’

Another shrug, ‘We’re pent up and stuck with each other. And it’s not like either of us are drowning in options.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Lance grumbled, and Keith laughed, close enough now that Lance could feel his breath.

‘I’ve seen you in action. Reckon I can speak for us both.’ He drew one hand from his pocket and ran his fingers gently up the zip of Lance’s jacket, sounding far too casual when Lance was currently reminding his heart to beat, ‘It’s stress relief, not a big deal.’

Lance couldn’t remember who kissed who, but he had Keith’s shirt off and pressed back against the glass of the observation deck, one hand at the small of his back to bring them closer, the other tangled in Keith’s hair when he pulled back.

‘If this is happening,’ his voice sounded huskier than it should after a few minutes of kissing, ‘We need ground rules.’

‘Mm,’ Keith ran down to the bottom of Lance’s shirt, slipping under to feel his stomach, ‘No telling the team.’

‘Agreed,’ Lance said, mentally apologizing to Hunk for the bro code violation, ‘Can’t have Shiro know I’m banging his brother.’

‘Don’t mention Shiro right now. Or ever, actually.’ 

Lance let go of Keith’s hair to settle on his jaw, turning his head to the side to kiss down his neck, ‘Two: don’t make it weird. If it gets weird we stop. Voltron comes first.’

‘Agreed.’ The hand on Keith’s back slid down to grab a handful of his ass, making him jolt, ‘Three,’ he said, ‘I don’t bottom.’

Lance stilled, letting go of Keith settling both hands on his waist, ‘What, ever?’ Keith shook his head, not quite looking Lance in the eye, ‘But look at your ass!’

‘Get used to looking,’ Keith pressed back up into him, ‘It’s all you’re gonna do.’ Lance took a minute to mentally lock about 58% of his newly discovered fantasies into a box. It was a little sad, but he still had a lot to play with. ‘Is that a dealbreaker?’

‘No,’ Lance shook his head and grinned, tightening his grip on Keith’s waist, ‘You just get to find out why they call me Nintendo.’

****

Keith was rigid on his lap, his face hidden in Lance’s shoulder, ‘Did I do something wrong?’

‘No, you’re okay,’ Lance pushed himself to sit up and wrap his arms around Keith, ‘You’re okay, we’re okay, but we’re not doing this. I mean it.’

‘You don’t want me anymore.’

‘That’s not it. Hey, look at me,’ he dragged Keith’s face up to look at him and tried not to break seeing his eyes all red and glassy, ‘I still want you, Keith. I do. Please don’t cry,’ he kissed Keith’s forehead, whispering into his hair, ‘I want you. I want you too much to have it like this.’

‘Everything feels too much,’ he could hear Keith fighting back sobs, ‘I can't make sense of it. I can’t, I just-’ he started to shiver, and Lance wondered, hoped that he might wake up again. But he breathed deeply, counting to ten on each inhale, each exhale, and the venom brought him back down. He slumped against Lance’s chest, letting him hold the both of them up, ‘With you it’s easier.’

‘I know baby,’ Lance let the pet name slip out and told himself it was just to relax Keith, ‘I know. We’ve had a long day. I think we both need to get some rest. Lie down,’ he patted the wall side of the mattress, ‘I’ll hold you.’

Lance settled down on his back, Keith resting his head on Lance’s chest, switched around from how they usually cuddled after - no, not now. Keith swung his leg over Lance’s again, but this time without squirming, just holding onto him like a teddy bear. His eye mask was on the nightstand, too far to reach over without disturbing Keith, so he let it lie there. Lance carded his fingers through Keith’s hair and stared up at the ceiling until he heard Keith’s breathing deepen, even out, and they fell asleep.

For the first five seconds of the morning, Lance forgot everything. The artificial sunlight the castle used to keep their circadian rhythms going bathed the room in pale yellow light, and Lance’s bones were heavy with a good night's rest. He moved to stretch his arms above his head, but felt one pinned under something heavy. Turning to inspect he saw a head of messy black hair, and reality crashed through his mind. The sting. The venom. Keith, still next to him by morning. 

He’d never seen Keith asleep before. Sometimes he’d questioned whether the red paladin even bothered with something so pedestrian, so mortal. But here he was on his stomach, eyes twitching in dreams, mouth a little slack, arm flung out across Lance’s middle and legs sprawling out. He’d taken most of the covers, which is probably why Lance’s feet felt cold, now that he thought about it, and his hair fell in unruly sheets across his face. Lance smoothed it back off his skin and gently, cautiously pulled his arm from under Keith’s neck, stopping each time Keith shifted, but didn’t wake up. Now free, he turned on his side to watch Keith, vaguely aware that it was a little weird, but not enough to stop. 

Every time he had left in the night, when Lance was sleeping or when Keith only thought he was, he’d wondered what it would be like. Every time he woke up alone, feeling Keith’s absence in and around him like a phantom limb. He’d wondered if Keith was a heavy sleeper, if he tossed and turned, what he dreamed about. If he had nightmares that vanished upon waking like Lance did. And here was his answer. Keith slept like the dead on his stomach, and looked peaceful. How much of it was real? 

Lance got up quietly, shut himself in the ensuite to shower, dressed without waking Keith, and went down to grab some breakfast. Staring made it weird. It was weird enough already.

Chapter Text

Lance wasn’t the first one up, so it couldn’t be too early. Padding into the kitchen he heard the faint waft of chattering, still subdued with tiredness. Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro were already lingering, talking idly over a pot of coffee, or at least the space equivalent. A little sweeter, much earthier. Like sugared dirt, but drinkable. The conversation pivoted when he whizzed the door open, and he didn’t need nor could be bothered to guess why. Lance weaved through to the pot in the hopes it would wake him up as Pidge sat on the counter beside him, legs dangling off the floor.

‘We’ve got about an hour before setting off,’ Shiro said, ‘I was just telling Hunk and Pidge to make sure they’re ready on time or Allura will have our heads.’

‘Aye-aye, captain,’ Lance mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, nodding hello to Hunk and Pidge, the latter still wearing the same shit-eating smirk from yesterday.

‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ she chimed. 

‘Pidge,’ Shiro warned, eyeing Lance warily, ‘Not now.’

‘Our teammate is sleeping,’ Lance sniffed at the pot and tried not to grimace. He was always more of a green tea guy, ‘The longer, the better.’ Hopefully the venom calmed down when Keith was asleep. This could be his only respite until the stuff wore off. 

‘Woooow,’ Pidge grinned, kicking her feet out, ‘You tire him out that much?’

‘Pidge!’ Hunk and Shiro called at once.

Lance filled his cup and set the pot back on its hob, ‘I’m glad you think this is funny,’ he snapped.

‘I think it’s a beautiful love story,’ she teased, ‘Maybe a little unorthodox, but you crazy kids-’

 ‘This is a roofie, Pidge.’ The kitchen fell so quiet he could hear the steam coming out of his cup, ‘Yeah haha, loverboy Lance, disparador, big funny joke, but is that really what you think of me?’

Her grin slipped into shock, ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she said, ‘I just-’

‘No,’ Lance raised his eyebrows. He knew it wasn’t fair, but none of this was fair. Why do they get to joke around? He could hear his voice rising as he spoke, couldn’t bring himself to look at her, spoke straight into the dark liquid, hands gripped into whitening fists on the countertop, ‘You just think it’s all a big game for you to stand above and-’

Hunk pulled Lance away from the counter, rubbing his shoulder, ‘Walk it off man, come on.’

Lance tensed for a minute, but it wasn't worth it. He was drained. Sapped of the anger, Lance just felt tired. He let his best friend lead him out of the kitchen, swiping back to grab his coffee before treading down the castle hallways and into the common room.

‘Sit.’ Hunk said, all but pushing him down on the couch. He let Lance stew for a minute over his cup, rubbing the back of his neck, ‘You know she’s only teasing.’

Lance cringed, ‘I know,’ he sighed, ‘But this- this whole thing. It’s fucked, it’s fucked up. You aren’t the ones that have to deal with it.’

‘That’s fair,’ he admitted. Quiet stretched out between them as Lance nursed his coffee and wished it was something else, screw the time, ‘Talk to me, bro. How’s he been?’

‘It’s Keith with a crush. On me. How’d you think?’ He asked, no energy to make his voice anything but blank, ‘It’s weird. Sometimes,’ he sighed, downing some more of his not-coffee and letting it pick up his pulse, ‘I don’t know. He doesn’t really fight me on anything, he’s,’ Lance shook his hands at nothing. He thought about Keith scowling when Lance dragged him to the training room, or arguing back on the terms of their deal. How both times Keith gave in too quickly, ‘This whole thing’s been added, sure, but something’s gone too, and that’s even worse.’

‘And what about you?’ Hunk leaned back against the cushions, eyes fixed on his friend’s face, ‘You’re acting weird.’

Lance laughed, ‘How am I supposed to act?’ But Hunk stayed watching him, ‘What?’

‘You kissed him back.’ 

His stomach dropped, ‘No,’ he tried to laugh again, but it wasn’t convincing, ‘He caught me by surprise, is all.’

‘I don’t think anyone else realised,’ Hunk pulled one leg up onto the sofa, crossing it over his knee and folding his hands behind his head, ‘But I know you. You two have been acting weird for a while, but whatever, at least you’re almost getting along. But this, man, this is weird, even for you. Something’s going on there, isn’t it?’

‘Absolutely not,’ he scoffed, ‘Hunk, come on. It’s Keith .’ Hunk stared at him again. 

‘Exactly, and you’re not making fun of him at all. And don’t-’ he held up a hand to stop Lance protesting, ‘Don’t give me that “ aww, but it’s poison, he could die! ” You’re looking out for Keith when he’s messed up, I admire it, but not even a little teasing? I remember when he dislocated his shoulder and you made him arm wrestle you.’

Lance shrunk into the couch, ‘I didn’t make him,’

‘I remember when you had a concussion and he locked you in the invisible maze. I remember when he came out of the pod after getting shot by that sentry and you called him a “wannabe Akira jackass” to his face.’ Lance remembered that too. He remembered what came after better, ‘Keith Kogane is in big beetle love with you, and the Lance I know should find that fucking hilarious, but he doesn’t.’ He looked at his friend again, but Lance only swallowed. It was very warm in this room, wasn’t it? ‘You don’t want to tell me, calm, it’s between the two of you anyway. But come on bro, don’t kid us both.’

Rule one. All the sneaking around, the hickey ban, waiting until everyone else was asleep, all of it was shot because he couldn’t stop himself kissing Keith. Once again, his stupid feelings had ruined everything. Lance buried his face in his hands, threw up a quick prayer to whichever space-god might have mercy on him, and begged.

‘You can’t tell anyone!’ Lance checked around the room for eavesdroppers, or worse, Keith, ‘Please man, he’ll kill me when he wakes up. Then he’ll probably kill you, and maybe himself. Nobody and I mean nobody knows.’

‘I knew it!’ Hunk pumped the air, ‘I fucking knew it, you were far too into that rivals thing, dude, no offence. Way too much staring. Oh man, vindication is sweet. Wow. So…’ his face lit up with teasing, ‘How long have you two been together?’

Lance lunged forward to swat at his friend’s mouth, ‘Keep your voice down! And we are not together,’

Hunk batted Lance off him, ‘But then what-’ his mouth dropped open, ‘ Oh my god .’

‘Hunk,’

‘Oh my god. Are you kidding? You’re-’ his voice dropped to a scandalised stage whisper, ‘You’re fucking Keith?!?!’ Another yelp as Lance tried to shut him up that dissolved into manic laughter. The type of laughter that made it hard to breathe, that caused his words to come out in uneven jabs. ‘How- how the hell did you swing that one?’

Lance groaned when Hunk swung off his attempts to quiet him, ‘Tripped and fell on his dick.’ It wasn’t far off enough to be a lie, but it only made Hunk laugh harder.

‘I have so many questions,’ Hunk propped himself back upright, wiping tears from his eyes, ‘How long? Who started it? How’s it going?’

‘I hate this conversation,’ Hunk snorted again but didn’t speak. Lance huffed, ‘I hate it. I hate him. He’s amazing y estoy muriendo . Fuck, man, just look at him. And to make it worse, like, he really knows what he’s doing,’

‘Gross.’

‘You asked,’ Lance threw a cushion at him. Hunk threw it back, Lance pressed it over his face and screamed until he ran out of breath, then brought it to his chest and held it tight, ‘And it was fine, okay? I didn’t go into this wanting anything, I definitely didn’t want to get so stupid about him. And for a while I didn’t! It was just fun. So when I did get stupid-’

‘You mean catch feelings,’

‘Well it feels stupid.’ He huffed, ‘I was pissed, obviously, because even if he’s hot and makes my stomach go weird he’s still a moody asshole that can’t stand me, pero vale , whatever. Maybe not ideal, but fine. I can keep a lid on that, ignore it,’

‘Uh oh,’ his friend said, the last dregs of laughter gone, ‘That’s not good.’

‘Sounds worse than it is,’ Lance assured him, ‘Or at least it was, until…’ he waved his arms vaguely about him, ‘Now he’s stupid too, except not really. And so I have to be the smart one but really I’m just as stupid only mine is for real and in a few days he’s gonna wake up mortified that he ever thought about me like that, and I’m gonna be the asshole cagando hostias still feeling it.’

‘Ouch,’

‘Yeah. As much as I want him back, and I do,’ he flung his head back on the neck of the couch, ‘Not looking forward to that conversation,’ he shook his head, ‘It sounds great on paper, right? Finally get a taste of what it would be like. But I hate it. It’s not real, and he’s-’

‘Lance?’ He heard his name called out, muffled and rasping. Fuck, how long ago had he left Keith’s room? He bolted up off the sofa and to the door, nearly kicking the door when the sensors didn’t open it fast enough. Shambling towards him down the hallway, one hand against the wall to steady himself, Keith pulled his head up to spot him, tired face lighting up. Lance swept down the corridor and Keith into his arms, fingers coming to his hair and whispering to him as the other boy relaxed.

‘Shit, sorry Keith, I didn’t mean to be gone so long,’ he pulled Keith’s face out of his shirt, ‘How long have you been awake?’

‘Not very,’ Keith shook his head, more of its weight in Lance’s hands than his own neck, ‘Started twitching and I saw you were gone. Missed you. I,’ he covered his yawn with the back of his hand, blinking heavily and for goodness’ sake it was too early to be cute, ‘I’m okay now.’

He dropped his arm around Keith’s shoulder as Hunk came out of the rec room, waving Keith good morning. Keith had both his arms around Lance and his forehead returned to its new spot in the crook of Lance’s neck, leaning so fully on him Lance thought he might fall asleep again. It wasn’t until his friend glanced down, flushed red, and looked away that Lance realised Keith hadn’t even bothered to put pants on, stumbling out to find him in a t-shirt and boxers. 

‘Oooh-kay,’ he wheeled him around, ‘Let’s go get you dressed, yeah?’ Keith grunted, letting himself be dragged, ‘Hunk can you please save us some breakfast thank you love you byeee!’

Back in Keith’s room Lance shoved him into the shower, but at his protests left the door open so Keith could stare at him while dripping wet and naked, which he tried not to think too hard about. In honesty, he tried not to think at all about the fact that Keith was currently naked, keeping his back firmly to the bathroom the whole time. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Lance had seen Keith naked before - plenty of times and paying plenty of attention. Hell, he could probably draw Keith naked at this point. Unless the Khepera had some symptoms he didn’t know about, it was unlikely anything had changed over there. But something about it felt different enough to turn away.

 Instead he busied himself rummaging through Keith’s room for a clean set of clothes to throw in a bag, finding a fresh shirt, underwear and socks, but having to settle for yesterday’s jeans. The red paladin came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, damp hair messy from towelling, and a toothbrush hanging out his mouth. Lance straightened out the rumpled sheets to avoid looking at how the last stray drops of water rolled down his chest as he paced, into the toned ridges of his stomach and lower to-  make the damn bed, McClain. Keith went back to the bathroom to spit and Lance gave himself a minute to get it the fuck together and lay Keith’s undersuit and armour out. This was nothing new. Why did it feel new? Keith returned, pressing his front to Lance’s back and sneaking his hands around Lance’s stomach, making him jump.

‘Thought I could at least get you to peek,’ he tucked his chin on Lance’s shoulder and he could hear the grin on Keith’s face, ‘You really are on good behaviour, huh?’ 

‘Well, you know me,’ he tried to keep his voice light, but it sounded strained even to him, ‘Mission comes first, paladin duty and whatnot. Keeping it profesh.’

Keith snorted and held him tighter, Lance’s hand coming to rest atop his laced fingers, ‘You’re lucky I like it when you’re weird,’ he kissed softly at the shell of Lance’s ear. Lance put that sentence straight into a box, locked the box, wrapped it in chains, and threw it at the bottom of a lake, ‘Professional. Does that make this an office romance?’

Lance wriggled just far enough out of Keith’s hold to turn around, brushing the damp strands of hair out of his eyes, still flighty from having a nearly naked Keith warm and pliant and holding onto him, ‘Don’t tell HR,’ Keith laughed and suddenly the artificial sunlight didn’t seem so fake. Focus. He wiped away the drops of water dripping on Keith’s shoulders from his hair, turning his head to check the sting. The swelling had gone down, some of the redness, leaving it less like a gnarly pimple and more like a blister right under his ear. Lance didn’t touch it, kissing Keith on the cheek, ‘Come on, red. Princess is probably suited by now,’ Keith groaned and Lance managed to pry himself free, reducing their contact to just holding hands as he reached down for Keith’s helmet and threw it at him. He went into the bathroom while Keith got dressed, you know, his hair really needed fixing right now. Splash some water on his face and goddammit he’d forgotten his moisturizer last night. This was fine. This was a fine situation. 

‘Stop fussing,’ Keith appeared behind him in the mirror, now covered by the undersuit and a few panels of his paladin armour, something between a scowl and a smile on his face. He took Lance’s wrist and spun him until they were face to face, then gave his hair a few brushes back with his fingers, the heat of his skin dampened by the thin, stretchy black of their suits. Lance was still as Keith touched his hair, brushed a stray eyelash off his cheek, and smoothed down the shoulders of his jacket until he looked satisfied. ‘Your hair looks better a little messy anyway,’ he said, leaning up to kiss him, and if Lance squeaked a little, Keith pretended not to notice, pecking the tip of his nose and pulling back to smirk at him, ‘There’s my sharpshooter.’

Another thing for the box.

Once he’d helped Keith fit the last few pads over his suit, Keith led him back to his own room for Lance to do the same. Remarkably he kept his hands to himself for the most part, content to watch with an inscrutable heat that made Lance trip on a sock. Keith only came to help do his undersuit up, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck as he pulled the zipper up his spine, slotting his back plate into place as Lance sorted out his limbs. He tried not to think too hard. He and Keith had undressed each other lots, it wasn’t weird to do the opposite. Surely not. 

****

He’d caught glimpses before, usually on the training deck. A ripple of stomach when Keith lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. A flash of bicep when he swung his bayard at the gladiator. Maybe some toned shoulder as he grappled out of a tricky hold. Keith was in excellent shape and it only made Lance hate him more.

But now it was different. Now instead of wishing he was stronger than Keith, he got to enjoy that strength first hand when the red paladin grabbed him tight and brought them both crashing onto the bed in a tangle of gangly limbs. Shuffling was hard without breaking apart, but with a fair amount of blind readjustment and breaks to kiss across jaws and down necks, Keith sat up with his back against the wall and Lance sitting on his ankles in Keith’s lap. Lance tugged at the hem of his shirt, prompting the other to get his hands off Lance’s ribs long enough to pull it off him. Throwing the offending garment on the ground without looking, his fingers were free to wander the bare expense of Keith’s torso, barely visible in the dark, sparse hair on his chest rising under the gentle touch. Keith leant up to kiss him, but Lance planted his other hand on his shoulder to push him back down, tracing down the paths of definition that made a map across his body. 

‘Having fun?’ Keith asked, impatience clear.

‘Shush,’ Lance whispered, trailing his finger down Keith’s stomach, across his navel, and into the trail of dark hair that led somewhere he was very excited to revisit. He’d always had eyes, he knew Keith looked good, despite the blatant lack of self-maintenance. Before, it was just another reason to be mad at his general existence, another thing he taunted Lance with. Ever since the training room he knew Keith was hot too. Hot when he palmed at Lance’s groin, hot when he gripped at his hair and hissed through his teeth every time Lance went down on him, hot when he swore as he came. But when he reluctantly brought his stare back to Keith’s face, fixed dead on his own, Lance realized with horror that Keith was not only jacked, and not only hot; the fucker was pretty. Dark eyes framed by darker lashes and heavy brows, set on Lance’s face. Smooth cheekbones curing down into his jaw. Plush mouth already swollen, curling up at the left side, no lo pudo soportar .

‘Shit.’

‘What,’ Keith furrowed his brows, moving to sit up, suddenly a little unsure, ‘You alright? We can slow down if-’

‘No,’ Lance surged back to kiss him again, fingers wrapping hard around his shoulder, ‘Don’t stop, I don’t want to stop.’ Keith’s hand wrapped around his back and pulled them flush against each other, groaning into Lance’s mouth. ‘I want,’ Keith’s hands slipped under his shirt and his head ducked into his neck, sucking gently at his pulse. It made the very idea of rational thought fly out of his head, ‘I want you to fuck me.’

It was a gamble. They’d spent the last two months satisfied with head, handjobs, and the occasional dryhumping. He knew Keith didn’t want to and never pushed that because it wasn't his business. For his part, Keith hadn’t suggested it to Lance. But Lance had been thinking about it more than he’d care to admit, picturing it every time Keith touched him. Even one very unfortunate dream that left him hauling his bedsheets to the chute at three in the morning. This could either be a wonderful evolution or a catastrophic, skin-crawling failure and he could never look the red paladin in the eye again. Keith’s shoulder tensed under his hand, lips moving softly against his neck, ‘We don’t have any-’

‘I may,’ Lance sighed, unable to stop his hips rolling into Keith’s, ‘Have picked something up from the Lycian agora. And tested it.’ Keith stopped kissing him. Fuck. Backpedal, backpedal. ‘It’s totally fine if you don’t want to though, I just thought-’

Keith pulled back just enough to see him, one hand coming up to grab his jaw, staring at him with the intensity of a Galra cruiser he was figuring out how to infiltrate. Which was kind of ironic, considering Lance had just offered him the proverbial back door on a silver platter.

‘Are you sure?’ His voice was low, a little rough, and he was still scanning Lance’s face for something he didn’t think to name. And those eyes, big and black and fuck, sparkling in the starlight from the window, trained on him like missiles.

Lance squirmed under the heat of it, ‘Look, man, I said it’s fine if you don’t-’

‘I want to.’ Keith’s stare held firm and Lance swallowed. Keith wanted to fuck him. Sangre del Cristo . ‘Do you, are you sure?’ Lance nodded, lower lip between his teeth, and the glare simmered down into something gentler, the edges of Keith’s mouth curling ever so slightly up as he nodded too. Lance could barely find it in himself to be angry at how pretty he was when he smiled. ‘Okay,’ he breathed, hands fumbling down to Lance’s pants, ‘Okay. Get these off and tell me how you want it.’

The dubious Lycian cooking oil worked like a charm, if a little thinner than the lube he was used to back on Earth. Keith warmed it up in his hands before working Lance open, so slow that he had to beg him to hurry up. 

‘We don’t have a condom,’ Keith said, pulling three fingers out, gloves long abandoned on the window sill.

‘What are you gonna do, get me pregnant?’ Lance snapped, rubbing down on Keith’s bare thigh in desperation, ‘I’ve already swallowed your come, so unless you’ve picked something up in the last two days, just please,’ He knew how it sounded, but was long past the point of caring when Keith’s hands felt so good and the press of his cock against Lance’s ass promised something even better, ‘Fuck me already.’

Keith sniffed a laugh at him, kissing his cheek and reaching down to line himself up, ‘Calm down. Patience yields-’

‘I don’t want to focus, I want to co- ahh -’ he choked off when he felt the head breach the ring of muscle, tugging hard at Keith’s hair as he kissed up and down Lance’s neck, massaging his hip.

‘Relax,’ he whispered, teeth sharp against Lance’s throat, ‘I won’t do anything that hurts you. Just hold on to me.’

The words made him shudder. Lance breathed deep and forced his muscles to unclench, save his arms, wrapped tight around Keith’s neck. Slowly, even slower than his fingers, Keith rocked Lance down onto him, gasping out laboured breaths and assurances with every inch he sunk inside, every ridge, curve, and vein pressing up inside Lance. When all of him was in, and oh man Keith’s dick hadn't felt this big even in his mouth, he was still, both of them adjusting to the sensation and panting into each other’s shoulders.

‘Let me know,’ Keith cleared his throat, tipped his head back against the wall with his eyes screwed shut, ‘Tell me when to move. Or if you want to stop.’ His fingers gripped tight on Lance’s hips as if they were the last strained buckles on his restraint. Lance lifted his forehead off Keith’s collarbone, stuck all over again by the sight of him. 

His eyes had adjusted to the dark, enough to see the delicate planes of his cheekbones, high and birdlike, curving down into a sharp jaw. The easy slope of his nose, the bow of his lips as he bit down on them. Lance shifted, feeling Keith’s shaft brush against his prostate, and sent them both moaning when his hole spasmed. One of his arms unwound from Keith’s back to push some of the hair off his forehead, this terrible mullet that framed his face perfectly and made him look beautiful. Distantly, in the tiny corner of his brain still online, he knew he was approaching the danger zone, but it wasn’t his fault that Keith had him stretched full, pressed tight against every nerve cell, his hands warm and holding fast to Lance's hips, while looking like that. Who could really blame him?

He rolled his hips again, not enough to pull Keith out, just to squeeze him, watch his back arch when Lance moved, gritted teeth grinding, and Lance revelled in watching him try to contain it. Pleasure looked good on him, no matter how hard he tried to breathe through it, and knowing he was the one causing it made Lance feel brave. Made him feel stupid.

He drew his thumb across Keith’s lower lip, ‘You look pretty.’ The noise he made tried to sound like a laugh, but cut off when Lance rolled again. Lance wanted to hear that sound over and over. 

‘M’not pretty,’ his hands flexed on Lance's hip, eyes fluttering open but glued to the ceiling, the curve of his throat working hard.

‘Sure you are,’ Lance lifted, just an inch or so, and sank back down, sending sparks up his back. He leaned in to kiss Keith, open mouthed and a little unco-ordinated, murmuring against his mouth, ‘Wouldn’t want you inside me otherwise, so deep. Shit, Keith, I can feel you in my fucking stomach,’

‘Fuck,’ And then his eyes were on Lance again, still searching, ‘Is it too much?’ For goodness sake, Lance thought, stop being sweet. Stop acting like you care. He hated Keith. He l- oh no. Oh no . Distract, distract by any means necessary. Lance ducked his head to bite at the junction between Keith’s neck and shoulder, making him groan again.

‘Come on pretty boy,’ he lifted again, unable to stop his voice from breaking a little, ‘Move.’

It wasn’t until after Keith left that Lance realized what a bad idea that had been. Kissing Keith as he sank down onto him, watching his face when he came, his arms coming up to hold Lance as he bucked up to meet him and again when they caught their breath after. Lowering him down onto the mattress and cleaning him up with gentle hands, checking he wasn’t sore, pressing kisses over his thighs. From that point on he only ever let Keith fuck him from behind, where he couldn’t see his face. As if the feeling, the sounds, the weight of him on Lance’s back weren’t bad enough. But it was too late. He wanted it. He wanted everything.

****

Out on the bridge where the rest of the team was waiting, Allura and Coran were already in position to land the castle on the planet’s uninhabited surface. Hunk handed them both something a little like protein bars that they munched down as the Alteans made preparations for landing. Word must have gotten out about Lance’s argument with Pidge, because they got no response but a few stray looks as they took their seats. Well, Lance took his seat. Keith abandoned his in favour of sitting on Lance’s lap, resting on the armrest and throwing his legs over Lance’s, tucking into his side.

‘Um…’ Their teammates’ stares were getting more flagrant now. Lance shifted, trying to gently push Keith fully up on the arm rest, but the boy was heavy when he wanted to be and didn’t budge, ‘You good, buddy?’

Keith looked at him like he was stupid, ‘Yes.’ Turning back, he didn’t seem particularly bothered by Hunk’s mouth hanging open, ‘We have an ETA for landing?’

It was about half an hour to the surface, then changing to the blue and green lions and descending another hour to the city. The initial landing was bumpy, interspersed with comms from the navigator from the city, and Lance had to think hard about things like gum stuck under tables and the bank-shattering fines he must have on his overdue library books to ignore how Keith jolted in his lap through the turbulence. His fingers left indents on the spongy armrests long after they walked down to the hangars. 

Walking into Blue, it felt like much longer than a day since the last time he’d flown her. On the walk to her hangar he’d managed a compromise with Keith. No sitting on his lap while he was flying. He agreed to stand behind the pilot chair and wrap his arms around Lance’s shoulders, chin resting atop his helmet, oblivious to Hunk and Coran trying not to burst a vein watching it. The descent was slow, time to adjust for drag and water pressure, unable to use Blue’s jet thrusters in case they damaged any city infrastructure. Barely above the pace of gravity, only touching the controls to steer the way ahead of Green, following close behind. From below he saw orange lights blink into existence through the murkiness, and Allura directed him to the middle of a circle over the comms line. Lance steered Blue to sink obligingly into the middle of it, metal paws bonking down on something that felt like concrete’s spongier, pastel cousin. When Green landed in a similar pad, a huge metal dome drew up around them, screeched closed, and the water started to drain. 

The paladins alighted the lions but left their helmets on until a team of guides rushed out to greet them and lead the way down a thread of corridors made of the same squishy stone. He kept his hand lanced tight in Keith’s all the way to the reception hall, a grand, sloping room with watercolour murals and a distinct lack of sharp edges. There were no windows, and the room was lit by a blueish, glowing goo painted in swirling patterns across the walls. In the centre, sitting on a carved stone bench with their feet in a bubbling, mossy pond, were the Erukin council.

Anatomical diversity in space is both staggeringly vast and yet, at its core, quite simple. The majority of peoples that Voltron interacted with were varyingly humanoid, with extra or missing features depending on their home planet. In the privacy of Lance’s brain, he found it easiest to conceptualise many of them as ‘earth creature they resembled most-people’. So the Galra were bat/cat-people, the Cygni Pictorans had been swan-people, so on and so forth. It was a neat system, easy to wrap his head around. The Erukin were a new type, he hadn’t met frog-people before. 

Their skin was a muddy green and smooth to the point of looking moist, speckled by dappling yellow and olive. Bright eyes slit like a goat resting on the sides of their round heads, full cheeks and wide, thin mouths. The guides had been bipedal, but stilted, a little jumpy. They didn’t seem to care much for clothing, and whatever junk they had going on wasn’t visible. Keith shifted closer to him as they took their places, and Lance’s hand rested on the small of his back. The councillor at the centre threw their webbed arms up and gurgled out a welcome.

‘Paladins of Voltron!’ their voice was deep and watery, but Lance had learned the hard way that that was no indication of gender out in space, ‘It is an honour to receive yourselves in our humble citadel. Please,’ they gestured to an attendant, looking a little less slimy than the councillors, ‘Allow us to present you with gifts in appreciation of your presence.’ The attendant hopped over to Allura, bowing so deep their head dipped below their arms, outstretched to present a stack of fabric to the princess. She bowed as well, accepting the gift with a dignified smile.

‘We thank you very much for such hospitality,’ she said, and Lance knew instantly she’d rehearsed every word with Coran, gesturing to him and the painted glass jar in his hands, ‘In return, and as a token of friendship, we would like to offer you the seed of the Welkova tree form your planet’s surface, retrieved personally by our paladins.’ 

Coran leapt forward and offered the seed with a bow that showed surprising flexibility. The central councillor took it, inspected it, their fellows chirping and gurgling what Lance hoped was their appreciation.

‘A fine specimen,’ they said at last, and Lance’s shoulders dropped. The councillor blinked their distant eyes across the team before landing on him and Keith. He felt the other boy’s hand clench a little tighter around him when the councillor handed the jar to their colleague and clapped, a wet, squelching sound, ‘Oh my, we had not known to expect a pair!’

‘Ah, yes,’ Allura did a good job of keeping her face smooth, but Lance saw the twinge of embarrassment in her brow, ‘While finding the ideal gift for your graces, our red paladin, Keith Kogane,’ she gestured at them, ‘Was unfortunately stung by the Nerchemmit Khepera, and we were unable to capture the insect to produce a cure. As a result, he is currently attached to our blue paladin, Lance McClain, and will not be able to join our negotiations. But the two are not usually a pair, it is only-’

‘Yes we are,’ Keith interrupted, drawing every eye in the room firmly back to them. Allura gaped, ‘We just didn’t tell you.’ He finished with a shrug, as if he hadn’t just thrown a ticking bomb into the hall. Lance darted desperately around his teammates for any sign of help, landing at last on Shiro when their leader stepped forward.

‘My apologies,’ he bowed to the council, ‘Our teammate has a particularly severe case, we suspect the venom has a slightly different effect on humans. If you would be able to look past any behavioural abnormalities in the meantime, we would be extremely grateful.’ He straightened his back and whispered something in the princess’ ear, and she wrung her hands out before clenching them at her sides. Lance closed his eyes and thanked the space-god that he’d told Shiro about the memory thing. He squeezed Keith into his side and rubbed a circle over his back plate, hoping that he wasn’t listening too closely.

‘Utterly fascinating,’ the lead councillor clapped again, ‘And most auspicious - your paladin must be the first sting of the season!’

‘Season?’

‘When did this occur?’

Allura blinked, ‘About this time yesterday,’ she said. The councillors made a chorus of gurgles amongst themselves, and returned their attention to the paladins, their leader clearing their throat.

‘If we may, princess, we would like to make a request. It has been a long time since our people have seen an unwanted sting left without a cure. As long as it is amenable to yourselves, we would wish to perform some examinations to see the effects on your paladin. Only should he agree. He will be seen to by the finest medical practitioners we have to offer. They will not, unfortunately, be able to restore him prematurely,’ Damn. There went Lance’s first question, ‘But it would be a most enticing set of data for our scientists.’

‘Will it hurt him?’ Lance blurted out the second, one arm still wrapped around Keith, now holding onto Lance openly. The councillors looked between each other and he tacked on, ‘We know that stress, it could, um. Go badly for him.’ 

Amphibian lips peeled apart. Lance thought it was meant to be a smile, but it didn’t look like one. ‘Absolutely not. We will ensure the tests are non-invasive.’ 

Lance looked down to the boy currently glued to him, pressing his cheek into Lance’s chestplate, and raised his eyebrows, ‘What do you want?’

Keith looked at the councillors, then to the team, and back at him, mouth set firm, ‘Only if you come with me.’ Lance squeezed him again.

‘Alright,’ he nodded, ‘Patient zero to the lab.’

Eruk’s scientists hounded Keith like nerdy, froggy strays to a bone, about half a dozen of them busying around him at any moment. Lance sat in a stool next to the examination table and held his hand while they poked needles in for blood tests, stuck little pads across his bare chest, took his temperature, and put a funny helmet on his head that was made to measure some brain thing or other. A few of them crowded around a screen that showed graphs and data tables Lance couldn’t read, so he busied himself by stroking his thumb back and forth across Keith’s knuckles. 

‘This is dumb,’ the red paladin said under his breath, struggling to lie still in the reclined chair, a little like the dentists on Earth, ‘I don’t know what they’re looking for, I feel fine.’

‘Let them have it,’ he soothed, ‘It’ll help the alliance, then everyone’s happy.’

They talked for a bit more, Lance trying to work some of the building irritation out of Keith, until one of the doctors thought to actually address their patient. This one was smaller than the councillor, and spoke as if through a layer of mud.

‘I must say, paladin, these are some fascinating results,’

‘Is that a good thing?’ Lance asked, unconsciously gripping Keith’s hand tighter. 

‘Scientifically,’ they said, another uncanny grin on their mouth, ‘It’s astounding. We’ve not seen levels like this, he’s acting like a quintant three or four patient, not two. Much higher amounts of -’ whatever the doctor was naming didn’t translate, so Lance was left guessing, ‘Than we’ve seen, particularly for an unbonded pair! Truly fascinating, but on the bright side,’ they added sunnily, turning to address Keith directly, ‘If these are your levels on quintant two, the effects shouldn’t last too much longer. You’ll be back to normal before you know it!’

Lance wished his heart wouldn’t drop. Keith would be fixed soon. That was a good thing, he knew it was a good thing, he couldn’t fucking wait for the moment Keith stopped looking at him like doped up livestock. No more hand holding, no more hugs, no more kisses unless they were building to something else. Right back into his comfort zone, biting his lip every time Keith snuck into his room at night to stop from spilling every disgusting feeling he held back. It would be over soon.

Once the doctors were satisfied they had gleaned every last little number they could from Keith’s body and brain, they released the pair to another set of guides, near vibrating with excitement as they embarked on their ‘cultural diplomacy’. To nobody’s surprise, it was a glorified tour of the citadel, a few explanations about the hydraulic engineering that let enough water in to prevent desiccation but kept enough out to avoid flooding. On any other planet, under any other circumstances, Lance would’ve been rapt. Come on, they built this city out of a coral reef, he should be loving it! The spongy concrete was actual sea sponge, treated into petrification, and every room was cut into with trails for waterfalls and canals for the Erukin to dip into when they felt a little dry. The blue light was a bioluminescent algae, for crying out loud, he had been obsessed with bioluminescence for three straight years in middle school. But Keith’s hand was heavy in his when they sat down for dinner with the guide, and all he could hear was the incessant tick of the countdown that started in his head, waiting for Keith to wake up. 

He asked a few perfunctory questions, open ended to keep the guide talking as long as possible. He nodded and laughed on autopilot, not really knowing what he was responding to. Keith followed his lead some of the time, mostly content to hold onto his arm and be led around, looking silently around the city, blue phosphorescence gleaming off his eyes. 

When the tour ended, a lot later than Lance had expected, their guide bowed deeply and dropped them into a different hall, this one with a table, where the rest of Voltron sprawled out in various states of exhaustion, they met for a debrief. Spread across the table were a few bowls of snacks, mostly a dry, salty cracker that Lance picked at, occasionally holding one to Keith’s mouth. 

‘You guys look like hell,’ he laughed, tugging Keith to sit beside him. And when Keith forwent a chair to sit on Lance’s lap again, he only held him there, ‘How are the mines?’

‘We managed to secure a satisfactory deal,’ Allura yawned, stretching out her shoulders, ‘Even if it took six vargas.’

‘I hate this,’ Pidge dragged tired hands down her face, ‘I would kill everyone in this room for a cup of real coffee right now.’

‘I would kill myself for a blunt,’ Hunk added, ‘And I never even liked it!’ Much to the Altean’s confusion and Shiro’s scolding. Lance reached over to clap his friend on the shoulder.

‘One of these days, buddy. We’re gonna get you the good stuff.’ 

They lingered for a while, listening to their teammates complain and tease them about doing nothing but wandering around all day, before the topic of Keith’s examinations came up.

‘They tell us anything new?’ Shiro’s stare flicked back to Keith, half asleep in Lance’s arms.

Lance shrugged, nudging Keith’s head against his shoulder, ‘His levels of something or other are higher than expected but they said not to worry. Just means he should be out of it earlier that we thought. You hear that?’ He wiggled his shoulder to send Keith’s head bouncing until he gently slapped Lance’s chest, ‘You’ll be normal again soon.’

‘Shut up,’ Keith scowled, shifting to wind his arms around Lance’s neck, ‘Told you I’m fine.’

‘Mm, my mistake,’ he let Keith press closer into him and rolled his eyes at his teammates, ‘Completely standard Keith activities.’

Allura bit her lip, uneasy stare flicking between the pair of them, ‘Shiro mentioned what you said about,’ back at Keith, back to him, ‘About the venom’s effect on perception. We should have seen that coming.’ 

Lance shrugged again, ‘I should have told you. Sorry, princess. Were the council okay with it?’ 

‘Better than fine!’ Coran interjected, ‘Erukin use the Nerchemmit Khapera very heavily in their annual mating cycle,’ Lance froze, and he could see the team whip around to Coran, silently pleading with him to stop, ‘When the unmated adults return to the surface for a day to reproduce and bring their eggs to the shoreline! It’s a little too early for them to start, but the first sting of the season is a very high honour which now goes to us.’

Mating cycle. Mating cycle?  

‘Oh,’ was all he got out. 

‘I must say, I think negotiations may have taken even longer without it.’

‘Okay,’ Lance managed. Keith seemed oblivious against his chest, and Lance returned to space-god, once again begging it to end his torment.

Hunk steered the conversation swiftly towards tomorrow’s gala and the banquet, placing bets on whether the frog resemblance would carry into their cuisine. Lance sat slack against his chair, pinned under Keith, teetering at the edge of implications he wasn’t strong enough to untangle. The councillors knew they used this bug for mating, now so did the rest of the team. Everyone knew, everyone thought that-

‘Mm,’ Keith stirred against him, picking his head up and blinking, ‘What time is it?’

‘Late,’ Pidge answered, ‘And it’s another early start tomorrow. The glamorous life of a paladin.’

He turned back to Lance, ‘Can we go to bed?’ he stifled a yawn, ‘I think the doctors took more blood than they should have.’

‘Come on then,’ Lance patted his ribs and Keith swung his legs off Lance’s lap, grabbing his hand to pull him up, stomping out the pins and needles, ‘Night everyone.’

‘Lance wait,’ Allura stood, wringing her hands again, ‘We didn’t know about the beetle’s… intended purpose before. Are you sure you two couldn’t use some distance tonight? I’m certain we can find a way to keep Keith comfortable without you.’

Keith’s grip turned iron, ‘Why?’

‘It’s fine, princess,’ Lance smoothed a hand down Keith’s back, ‘Like I told Shiro, all above the belt.’

‘We trust you, Lance,’ Shiro said from his chair, ‘But like I told you, Keith isn’t himself and it’s important that-’

‘I’m so sick of this!’ Keith yelled, ‘Stop talking about me like I’m not here. Like I’m a child that can’t decide to sleep next to my fucking boyfriend. Bug, beetle, whatever, I don’t need venom to love him so leave us alone!’ 

Nobody made a sound. Lance wasn’t sure he was breathing. Box, box now . Lock and chains and down into the water.

Don’t listen to me, Keith had said in the castle hallway, I’ll say anything. Anything. That’s all it was. He didn’t register he was moving until Keith had already pulled him out of the room and demanded the closest attendant to bring them to their room.

They walked, he thinks. Corridors, more corridors. A big room of frozen sponge and a mattress piled with blankets on the floor bigger than his bunk at the Garrison. Both their bags on the floor by the door, Keith pacing around and ranting, still angry. Lance’s head still ringing. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. 

‘Hey,’ Keith’s hands swept around his jaw, stroking gently at his cheekbone, all the rage melted away and replaced with concern, ‘What’s wrong?’

Lance shook his head, forced on a smile, ‘Nothing, baby,’ he didn’t sound convincing, ‘Just tired.’ He said boyfriend. He said he loved him. Neither of those things, Lance knew, were true.

Keith let him go while they changed out of their armor and into the poor attempts at pyjamas they’d remembered to pack. He said nothing as he and Lance clambered under the nest of fresh blankets and found the actual covers, thin and crisp. Guess a well made bed was universal. Lance opened his arms for Keith to crawl into and hit the button on the wall, dimming the algae into the ghost of light. Long minutes stretched out in silence.

‘You don’t believe me,’ Keith said against his chest, ‘Do you? They don’t, but it isn’t about them. I can see it on your face, you don’t believe it.’

It took a minute to realize what Keith was talking about. He rubbed his back and hoped Keith couldn’t hear his pulse skip, couldn’t hear the thickness of his voice when he said ‘I believe you.’

Keith pushed himself up on his elbow, face hovering inches above Lance’s. For a moment he just stared, like Lance was one of those butterflies stuck to needles in the Natural History Museum, and he was a nosy entomologist with a magnifying glass.

‘I can tell when you’re lying to me.’

Lance shut his eyes, ‘Keith,’

‘You don’t look at me when you’re lying to me.’

‘Keith, please,’

‘It’s fine if you don’t say it back,’ he said, ‘Even if you don’t feel it back. Maybe you don’t, I’ll still love you. I’ve done it so far.’ Lance pushed himself up, tried to lean away but Keith didn’t stop, ‘But I’ve done it for so long Lance, and I can’t anymore. I need you to know, I need you to believe it. I-’

He seized up, falling backward until Lance grabbed him and pulled him in. Keith was shaking again, whispering low and fast to himself, too quiet for Lance to make out anything other than, ‘No no no.’ He tried to prop Keith back, but he collapsed straight back into Lance, panting and trembling, muscles flicking fast between rigid and limp for a few more minutes, until he calmed down. Lance wanted him to wake up before he had the chance to stab another blade in his chest. Keith’s hands stroked up and down his arms and he pulled himself up, big dumb smile back on his face, ‘I mean it. I love you. I’ll say it however many times, I’ll show you, I mean it.’ 

‘No you don’t,’ Lance shook his head, ‘Maybe you think so right now, and I believe that, but you don’t really. You don’t see me like that. Or what have we been doing this whole time?’ Keith reeled back, still staring at him, and Lance swore, dropping his face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ he reached for Keith’s hand, and pulled it limply between his own, tracing the lines of Keith’s pal with his thumb, ‘I- I want to believe it. I want,’ his laughter was empty, ‘Who wouldn’t want you to love them? They’d be lucky. Please don’t do this to me.’

Keith swivelled his legs to sit cross legged, leaving his hand in Lance’s. He took a few deep breaths before speaking.

‘When we started this, I told you I-’ he faltered, ‘That I wasn’t comfortable, you know, receiving. You never asked why, and I was grateful, but it means I never told you why.’

Lance’s hands stilled around Keith’s, ‘You don’t need to,’

‘I want to.’ Another breath to steady himself. If this place had windows Lance would have probably jumped out. ‘I’ve done it before, when I was younger. Not like, illegally young or anything,’ Now it was his turn to laugh, his turn to sound just as empty, ‘Just younger. Not many options in the desert, but thank God for modern technology, right?’

‘Keith,’ Lance had to stop him. This was not something Keith would ever choose to share normally, ‘Keith it’s fine-’

‘And it was alright,’ Keith pressed an index finger to Lance’s open mouth, ‘Not great or anything, but good enough. At least during. After though, I just felt… I don’t know. Used. A little empty. The last time, it hurt and I freaked out, ran home and hated myself. I don’t- it scared me. How easily it could have gone worse. After that I just,’ he shrugged, ‘Didn’t like the thought of it. Of anyone making me feel that way again, of anyone even having the chance.’

Lance tried to quell the spark of anger flaring in his chest. The idea of Keith sitting alone in that god awful shack, afraid and hating himself sank something sad and ugly into him. Instead, he ran his hand up Keith’s forearm to squeeze his elbow, ‘I’m sorry.’

Keith shook his head, ‘It’s fine. I’m fine now. But when we started- you remember. I wanted you, but I wasn’t, I didn't know how to play it and I was already in too deep.’ Lance tried to ignore that last part. Keith shrugged, eyes brightening a bit, ‘But you snuck up on me. You trusted me and I was shitting it, so scared of doing it wrong. And the more you wanted me, the more you seemed to like it, the more I started thinking. If you can trust me like that and it can work, it can be good, then how hard could it be? You tease and edge and rile me up but I know that when it comes down to it, you’d never hurt me. And every time I saw you, I wanted you more.

‘And this isn’t a proposition again,’ he added quickly, ‘We said after the mission and I can wait. But I want you to know, and I hope you can guess what it means.’ Keith turned Lance’s hand over, holding it, ‘I’m not good with words. Or feelings,’ he shook his head, ‘Or people, really. I’m used to being alone, and for so long I was fine with that. Told myself I was. But it’s different now, and I’m finally able to say it,’ he looked up at Lance and the smile on his face tore the broken halves of Lance’s heart clean out of his ribcage, ‘I trust you Lance, I love you. I don’t care who knows and I’m not afraid. I thought it would hurt but it doesn’t. I want you to know, to feel loved because you are. I love you.’

Lance McClain was good at a few things. He was a decent pilot, an excellent shot, and he liked to consider himself a good friend. But he had always been terrible at holding back tears. When the first one fell Keith shot forward, wiping his face and kissing at the wet tracks on his cheeks, telling him over and over the thing he couldn’t bear to hear. He couldn’t take it. Everything was so close and yet so deeply, so viscerally wrong . Don’t listen to me, Keith had said, I’ll say anything. He didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear, but he had and now he knew. He knew something personal about Keith that he’d never planned, never wanted to tell Lance, and even if it was all twisted by his janky memories and venom there was no way to unknow it. 

The guilt burrowed into his stomach as Keith climbed into his lap, stroked his hair, as Lance held Keith tight and cried into his t-shirt. Had he done something wrong, committed some unforgivable offense that this was all punishment for? Every tear made him hate himself more, Keith was the one opening up and he was the one crying like a child because Keith didn’t actually like him back, get it the hell together. He pressed his face deeper into Keith’s shoulder and forced himself to calm down. This isn’t about you, McClain. Fall apart later. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, wiping his eyes with the heel of his palm when he pulled his face from Keith’s shirt, the other dropping his hands to Lance’s cheeks to cradle him, ‘Fuck, I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Keith whispered, kissing his forehead again, and Lance let himself sink, just a little, against him, ‘It’s okay. I want you to know, but it’s a lot. I’m a lot.’

Lance shook his head, ‘You’re not,’ he ran his hands up Keith’s spine, let him shift closer, let himself be stupid and pretended it was for Keith, ‘You’re perfect. I miss you.’

‘I’m right here,’ Keith’s thumb tucked under his jaw and tipped Lance’s head back up, brushing their noses together, ‘I love you,’ he whispered again, slotting their lips together. He kissed Lance slowly, tentatively. Lance kissed him back, barely moving, as if anything else would shatter the whole underwater city. Keith’s hands held tightly onto his cheeks, his own moved to Keith’s ribs, feeling the tendons shift as he sighed. 

Keith had said Lance could kiss him. Keith had said not to listen. 

They went to bed, sneaking stray kisses as they edged back horizontal. Keith rested his head on Lance’s chest, fingers idly tapping out his heartbeat on his stomach. He looked up at Lance, kissed him again, and asked ‘Do you believe me now?’

Wrapped up in him and a dozen alien blankets, bathed in the faint blue glow of space ocean algae, Lance looked into Keith’s eyes and lied to him.

Chapter Text

As every child who grew up near the beach often does, Lance used to daydream about being a mermaid. Merman, whatever. Playing with the octopi, eating seaweed, chillaxing in an anemone and surfing dolphin pods. Every day’s a beach day, it sounded like the good life to his seven year old brain. On his second day in the underwater city, he took back all those childhood dreams. Sebastian the crab was wrong, things were certainly not better down where it’s wetter.

Somebody was knocking. Lance blinked awake, detangled himself from Keith and rolled off the bed to answer it. He was met with a nervous attendant holding a thin stone dray laden with seafood, blatantly trying to peek past him and into their room where Keith still slept. Lance closed the door a fraction, blocking their view with his body.

‘Hello?’

The attendant jumped, ‘Good morning, paladin!’ their voice was bubbling and reedy, ‘I was simply wishing to inform you that we intend to proceed with the accordance ceremony in one varga. I have also brought some sustenance for you.’

On cue, Lance’s stomach rumbled. He took the tray and dismissed the servant, setting breakfast down on the floor and sitting on the mattress to shake Keith awake.

‘Come on, dormilón,’ he said, ‘Duty calls.’

Keith mumbled something that sounded suspiciously sweary before rolling reluctantly onto his back and prying his eyes open, moody frown pulling up into a smile when he saw Lance. Their conversation last night flooded into his brain. He looked away.

They ate breakfast in bed, laughing about morning shrimp until it devolved into a contest of who could fit more mussel shells in their mouths without choking. He would’ve won if Keith hadn’t played dirty and tickled him. Lance stacked up the tray as Keith washed his face and brushed his teeth, leaving the door open so he could watch Lance in the mirror, and when it was Lance’s turn Keith laid out both their paladin suits and started to dress. Coming out into the room with his skin a little dry - Erukin plumbing used saltwater and the creams Lance had brought from the castle could only do so much - and seeing his armour laid out on the bed, Keith strapping on his boots and asking Lance if he had had enough hot water, he realised what the strangeness from yesterday was. 

Falling asleep cuddling after sickeningly personal conversations, waking up together, breakfast in bed and all the morning rituals of washing and dressing, it was domestic. This wasn’t what friends/teammates/rivals-with-benefits did, it was what couples did. But Keith wasn’t his boyfriend, despite what he told the team last night, and he never would be. He was sick, and Lance needed to remember that.

‘Lance?’

He blinked, shook his head, ‘Oh, yeah, sorry. No, it was fine.’ He flashed Keith a smile and put on his paladin suit, extremely aware of the dark eyes raking over him as he did. ‘Take a picture,’ he tried to joke, ‘It’ll last longer.’

‘Left my tablet on the castle.’ Keith didn’t sound like he was joking. He picked up Lance’s chestplate from the bed and stood closer than he needed to, slotting the plate until it clicked into place. Keith gave the plate a little pat, then slid his hands up and around Lance’s shoulders, ‘Hey,’ he said, a hint of shyness creeping in, ‘You, uh, you come here often?’

‘Are you,’ Lance felt his cheeks heat up as his hands fumbled around his gloves, ‘Keith, are you flirting with me?’

‘Yeah,’ Keith tilted his head, ‘Is it working?’

Goddammit. Lance didn’t think he was this easy to charm but if his blood pressure was anything to go by, that was wrong. He caught himself smiling and scrunch his nose, lifting his hand to flick Keith on the forehead, ‘Only ‘cuz you’re cute,’ he admitted, ‘But that was lame, Kogane. Even for you.’

Keith scoffed, kissed him too quickly for Lance to pull away, and drew back to take his hand and lead him to the door, ‘What can I say?’ he shrugged, throwing a sly wink back over his shoulder, ‘Learnt from the best.’

 The same attendant that brought breakfast met them in the hall outside to lead them down to Blue’s hangar with only a single glance at their joined hands. Whatever, Keith was this year’s first sting right? Guess that made them famous. Lance sat down on one of Blue’s paws, letting Keith fall into his lap and stop him bouncing his knee as they waited for the others. The accords would be signed over at the mines, and Voltron was to take a shipment of orichalcum in exchange for providing Eruk protection from the Galra. While Lance was sure that this orichalcum stuff was a big deal, he never much had the mind for mechanics, always leaving the tech to Pidge and Hunk. Still, at least with the alliance sorted, that was one problem off the team, leaving only the problem slumped in his lap. And Zarkon, of course.

Hunk arrived a few minutes after they did, lifting his eyebrows but saying nothing at Keith perched on Lance’s lap.

‘Morning,’ he gave Lance a fist bump and waved at Keith before stifling a yawn, ‘We ready to go?’

‘Sure,’ Lance set off yawning himself. Damn empathy, ‘As long as you know how to get there.’

They climbed the ramp into Blue’s cockpit and took the same spots as the day before, Keith standing behind the pilot’s chair to hug Lance and rest his chin on Lance’s helmet for the flight to the mine opening. Blue powered up as the doors hissed shut and the dome unfolded open their heads, dropping a metric asston of space ocean onto their heads in seconds.

Flying to the mines was shorter but trickier than the descent to the city, on account of the coral towers and threadlike tunnels webbing between them. The tunnels were used by civilians and citizens to travel around, but due to the orichalcum shipment Allura had asked them to bring the lions for storage. Blue swam slowly, which felt like pulling teeth to Lance, and it took about half a varga to arrive at the metal dome poking out of the rocky seabed away from the reef. Lance maneuvered Blue through the entry hatch and waited for it to close, for the flood to drain out of the room, before he opened the ramp and they descended. Green was already there but the rest of his team had been shepherded into the next room with the council, ready to sign the treaty and officially commence the alliance. 

Diplomacy was one of Lance’s favourite parts of the job, but mostly in the ‘being a celebrated hero and maybe getting a parade and/or adoration from the attractive locals’ sense, less in the ‘standing around a table while everyone signs a piece of paper’ sense. You know, once you’ve seen one treaty ratified, you’ve kind of seen them all. After it was signed, and after sufficient happy gurgling from the council, the paladins got to work loading crates of orichalcum into the lions’ stomachs. Sure, he might not call hauling crates back and forth from the vast, gaping mouth of the mine loading bay back to his lion a particularly fun job, but at least it was something to do beside crack his knuckles. 

‘Hey,’ he turned to Keith, shoving the latest crate on top of another, ‘You know how many more of these we gotta load?’

Keith scoffed, ‘Tired already?’ He leant back on the wall and crossed his arms, ‘I know your stamina’s not the best but-’

‘Ay, disculpe,’ Lance crossed the space between them to jab a finger into Keith’s chest, ‘I’ve never heard you complain.’

‘Apart from the first time.’

‘Circumstance,’ Keith’s eyes flicked down to Lance’s finger then back up to his face, coy grin poorly bitten down, ‘Hardly my fault you pounced on me like the AA bunny.’

Keith stopped hiding his grin, ‘You love it,’ he pushed off the wall to come closer, ‘Love that I can’t keep my hands off you.’ Then he plucked Lance’s hand off his chest and guided it round to the small of his back to pull them flush against each other, ‘Just like I do.’

Lance was human. A generally smart human who mostly, like 90% of the time, thought with his brain in his head, he promises. But only human; one who’d had the boy he was in pathetic, unrequited love with all over him for nearly 48 solid hours, the boy currently pressed against him and running his hands across Lance’s shoulders. That was why it took a frankly Herculean level of restraint to say, ‘Tranquilo Keith, we’re in Blue and the door is wide open.’

‘I know,’ Keith brushed some dust off his armour, ‘I was just going to suggest we make this interesting.’

‘Keith,’

One hand reached up to grab Lance’s chin and pulled his face down to Keith’s eye level, ‘First to stack up ten crates wins.’

‘And the loser?’

‘Guess you’ll find out,’ He kissed Lance hard and slipped away, bolting out of Blue and down to the loading bay. Lance took a second to shake himself out of his daze and barrelled after him, hollering about playing fair and nearly tripping over Pidge. 

He had five crates down to Keith’s six and another on the way when a deafening crash like thunder shook up from below their feet. Lance looked over at Keith, up at Hunk in the cargo deck, and back towards the bay. All three took off without a word, crashing into the mine’s opening where Shiro was already interrogating a foreman and their second as the algae lights went haywire. 

‘-anyone inform us of the risks?’

‘Paladin,’ the foreman was reedier than most other Erukin, moist, skinny limbs twitching, ‘The integrity of our infrastructure is not the issue, it is the pressure. Any tectonic movement is likely to impact the smaller shafts,’

Shiro wasn’t moved, ‘Are there people inside or not?’ 

‘What’s happening?’ Allura followed in after them, her hair in disarray and her face not looking much better. Shiro turned to her, one hand gripping at the white crown of his hair.

‘Collapsed mining cavern.’

Keith’s voice was hard, ‘Where?’

They all turned to the pair of Erukin before them. It looked like the foreman gulped, but Lance wasn’t sure if they did that, ‘Southeast quadrant. All the staff have been briefed on the evacuation procedure.’

‘But have they been evacuated?’

Keith and Shiro stalked over to the holo map on one of the walls, muttering quietly and pointing to routes inside the mines. The foreman snatched the tablet from their second and scrolled rapidly. Lance and Pidge followed to look over their shoulders while Allura joined the others at the map.

‘The forty-second cavern seems to be the most severely impacted. There are backup tunnels running between each unit of five, but no tunnel besides the main routes between each cavern within those clusters.’ Another scroll, ‘We’ve had no reports of flooding but because the cavern is on the upper levels, where the covering is thinner, we have already sent out alerts to nearby workers. An evacuation effort is in progress by those not already outside the quadrant.’

‘How in progress are we talking?’ Lance tried to parse some sense of the diagrams and symbols on the tablet screen between dense blocks of the Erukin script, ‘Like ‘the exits are almost stable’ in progress or ‘they’re still picking at rocks’ in progress?’

The foreman didn’t answer. Scrolled again.

‘Team,’ Shiro called, still fixed on the map, ‘Cavern forty two is about ten minutes in and up if we’re quick. We have three objectives; clear the debris, keep the exits stable, and get the workers out. Split up and take the emergency tunnels from forty and forty five to support efforts both ways. Allura, Pidge, and Hunk you go from forty. Keith, Lance and I are on forty five. Should be easy enough, no combat, this is a rescue mission. Everyone know your places?’ He didn’t wait for them to nod, ‘Right, Voltron, out!’

Cardio wasn’t something Lance had first expected to need as a pilot, but learnt fast and hard his mistake. After the better part of a year running missions he could proudly hold a jog for a good while, but not enough to keep up with Keith and Shiro, with the former spending more time training than asleep and the latter built like goddamn Superman. Keith kept stopping every few minutes to check Lance was still with them, bouncing on the spot until the gap closed enough that he could speed away again. The route to forty five was uphill and cramped, passing odd reinforcement arches of metal and coral concrete, walls painted blue by large swathes of the algae. The backup tunnel was narrower, a little darker, threaded through with Erukin miners rushing back and forth between the wider chambers, carrying pickaxes, stretchers, and sometimes each other. Strangely, none of them looked panicked. At least not as panicked as Lance reckoned they should, given that the roof was collapsing above them.

The three reached the forty fifth chamber and joined the flurry of activity racing down towards the forty second. A crowd of Erukin hacked at the pile of rock debris blocking the rounded entrance to the cave, pulling at the stone with their hands. Beyond he could hear crying out and banging on the walls. All three paladins ran to the front, digging at the rocks with their hands, or in Keith’s case, hacking away with their bayards. When this proved effective, the smaller rocks easier for the rest of the evacuation team to shift out of the way, Shiro activated his Galra hand to slice through more. Lance shifted as many as he could, but sniping didn’t seem very helpful in this scenario. Gaps in the stone widened to holes, to crawl spaces just wide enough for the smaller miners to fit through. The evacuation team hurried to prop flat top metal poles against the roof of the tunnel as the paladins grasped at stones to widen the gap, pulling miners through whatever spaces they could fit as the rest of the team worked to widen the gaps. 

‘The other side,’ Lance asked one miner, still catching their breath after he pulled them through, ‘How’s the other side, is it open yet?’

‘Not,’ a wet, throaty cough, ‘Not enough to get past. Everyone’s pushing.’ 

‘Lance, come on,’ Keith yanked him up by the shoulder, without a trace of the morning’s softness, ‘The others will sort it when they can. Just focus.’

He helped the Erukin install the supports. He dug rocks away from the tunnel gap to grab at slimy appendages to drag them to safety. He gave Keith a leg up to split one of the rocks near the top and he felt the second rumble start below his feet just in time to pull up his shield. The ground shook, the metal supports buckled, and Keith screamed. 

The falling rocks left dust clouding the hazy blue light that made it hard, at first, to spot detail. More rocks, Shiro and the Erukin on the floor, himself on the floor spluttering up dust. Keith writhing, feet dangling inches off the ground, shoulder twisted up too long and crooked, the rest of his arm pinned in the new rockfall. Lance scrambled to his feet.

‘Keith,’ he tried to push the red paladin up, to get his feet some purchase on one of the rocks and take the strain of his bodyweight off his shoulder, but any movement just made him cry out. Lance switched plans, scaling the lower rocks to try and push some of the higher ones free, ‘Baby come on, we gotta get you out.’

‘The miners,’ he gasped, legs scrabbling until Lance grabbed his ankles and pushed him up again, ‘Finish the evacuation.’

‘Finish it with me,’ he summoned an extra plate guard around his elbow and used it to smash some of the smaller pebbles out of the crush, enough to slip his hand between the larger boulders, ‘We can’t get shit through this wall with you hanging in it. Jesucristo maldito, where’s your bayard?’

‘Other side.’

‘Shit,’ Lance hissed, striking out with his elbow at most of the rocks and turning behind him to check on the rest, ‘Shiro? Could really do with some help!’

‘Already on it,’ he heard. Shiro’s Galra hand was glowing, reaching up to chop down a boulder like the foam karate boards, kicking them through into the chamber. Behind them, the evacuation crew worked to remove the broken supports and drag new ones from the supply bunker in the fortieth cavern. He used his jetpack and  wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist to hold them both up as he dug more rocks out from around his arm. It was pinned between three large stones, nearly boulders, bearing down right above the elbow and denting his armour there. 

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Of course it fucking hurts, it’s-’

‘That’s good, that’s good,’ he squeezed around Keith’s waist and let him drop his head to Lance’s chest to curse him out some more, ‘Let me know if you stop feeling it. Shiro, how's your end?’

‘I think it’s working, just let me,’ A dull, thudding kick, and a section of the blockage tumble away. Unsupported, the rocks above them could be hammered through into the next cavern, until the left half of the debris came tumbling down, a trickle of water dripping down to the floor. Lance switched his arms to reach around Keith and shove the right left hand boulder over his arm out of the way, giving just enough room if they were careful. Lance reached into the empty space to take Keith’s hand.

‘Okay, this is gonna suck and I’m sorry,’ he told him, lowering his head until the crowns of their helmets clacked, ‘But we have two options here. Wriggle or yank. You got a preference?’

‘Hurts,’

‘I know baby, but we gotta get you out. Mirame, look at me,’ Keith’s head looked heavy, and it lifted slower than Lance would have liked, ‘I’ve got you. You won’t like it, but you’ll be okay. I promise.’

Keith nodded, dropped his head back down, ‘Get it over with. I trust you.’

Lance flexed his hand around Keith’s wrist, steeled his nerves, and pulled Keith's arm sharply left, out of the crevice and free. Keith screamed again, body jerking as Lance dropped them down as gently as he could, snatching his arm away to hold it to his chest. Shiro was up to steady them as soon as they hit the floor, checking them both for bleeding, looking a little grey when he saw the dents in the red shoulder panel.

‘Get him out of here,’ he nodded at Lance, ‘We’ll finish up.’

‘I can stay,’ he gritted his teeth, ‘We need to-’

‘You’re not doing anything with a dead arm,’ their leader snapped, ‘Lance, take Blue and get him to a doctor. We will finish up here and fly Green back to come find you guys when we’re done.’

Keith tried to protest again, but it didn’t last long beyond Lance wrapping an arm around him and steering him back to the forty fifth. The way back was downhill, but still longer now that Keith couldn’t really run, preoccupied by trying to hold his tendons in place. They pushed past the teams of evacuation co-ordinators and down into Blue’s hangar, sparing a word to the frantic foreman to shut it up and prepare for launching, and call a fucking doctor while you’re at it. The red paladin was stubborn and proud and so fucking stupid, keeping the worst of his pain behind his teeth, trying not to make a sound as Lance all but shoved him into the cockpit, took his seat, and pulled Keith onto his lap. 

‘Thought I couldn’t sit here when you fly,’ his voice was tired beneath the attempt at humour, and Lance had to shake him to keep him from falling asleep. The fabric between his armour panels was damp, too dark to see the colour of what stained it.

‘Well you can’t hold me with a gammy arm, so consider it a treat.’

Keith huffed a small chuckle against him, ‘Maybe I should get injured more often.’

The metal dome creaked open and the flood poured in, ‘Don’t even think about it.’

A gaggle of amphibian doctors were waiting to cart them into the same lab they’d stuck Keith in the day before, this time with a lot less tittering. Lance came in as soon as he started to freak, swinging his free limbs about as soon as the door shut between them, and helped the doctors remove his armour and strip his flight suit down to his navel, slicing the sleeve to avoid jostling Keith’s arm any more, revealing a gnarly wave of blue and purple bruising that spanned from his clavicle down to the forearm. One syringe of Erukin sedative later, the doctors were able to snap the joint back in place without dodging kicks to their moist, fleshy heads. Lance held Keith’s good hand and told him it was nearly over until it was true, and whenever there was too much pain for the alien drugs to smother, his energy went into crushing Lance’s knuckles rather than verbally abusing the hospital staff, which the blue paladin took as a win.

The doctors rubbed some kind of salty, herbal poultice over his bruises, tied his shoulder up with a rather mundane looking sling and a thick metal band that snapped into place around the joint. Keith was still looped up on the painkillers, the cloud of venom dancing with it across his features as he looked dreamily up at Lance in the chair beside him. Lance brushed some of the hair off his forehead, stroking a thumb across his eyebrow. Keith gave his fingers a squeeze, his lazy, zonked out smile pulling at his jaw.

‘You’re staring.’

‘I am,’ Lance admitted, ‘Glad to see you alright.’

‘I’m always alright,’ he lifted Lance’s hand to his mouth, a tad too unco-ordinated to kiss it properly, ‘Sorry I stressed you out.’

‘Don’t,’ he carded his hands through Keith’s hair again, ‘Just stop getting yourself hurt.’

‘I’d rather it be me.’

‘Well I wouldn’t,’ Lance said, ‘You’re brave and so, so good at this. When I watch you it’s hard to breathe. And we need you, so stop getting hurt,’ he flicked Keith again on the forehead, making him laugh, ‘You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.’

‘I’ll stop when you do.’ 

****

He’d been clipped. Lucky hit, nothing crazy, but a damn lucky one right in Blue’s throat. Sent him spinning into the asteroid belt above orbit, smashing his head on the control panel and cutting out his comms for a few minutes while he rebooted. Why didn’t these things have seatbelts again? His teammates covered him well enough but his vision was blurring double and all of Blue’s controls looked like jelly, and he knew his flying was clumsy when he eventually managed to move, the panic of the other paladins driving nails into his throbbing head.

They hadn’t needed Voltron, it was only a small fleet of a half a dozen light class cruisers, but it was a damn stroke of luck because being a lion was hard enough and Lance didn’t want to try being a lion leg right now too. Coran had dragged him bodily to the medbay for an exam as soon as the other paladins let him out of the bear hug, but he wasn’t bleeding and nothing was broken so no need for a pod. Thank god. He hated those things. The others were stressed, the rational part of him knew that and didn’t begrudge them, but the irrational, tired part just wanted some peace and quiet. To not be treated like glass every time he got a booboo. Fuck this.

He had the override code for Keith’s door by now, they both did, made it easier to sneak around. Maybe he had to blink to see the buttons clearly, but whatever. Lance tried to prop himself casually in the door frame as Keith looked up, lounging out on his bed - boots still on, eugh - and reading something on his tablet.

‘You busy?’

Keith shrugged, flung the device on the covers, ‘How’s your head?’

‘Please, it’s a scratch,’ he waved it off, traipsing into Keith’s room and dropping down on his bed, ‘I’m fine. Bored. Thought you could distract me.’ Keith crossed his arms, dark eyes staring with the same intensity that always made Lance want to shrink. Looking for something, Keith was always looking for something in Lance, and he never knew what it was.

He sighed, ‘I’m not fucking you when you’re hurt. You need to rest.’

‘What?’ Lance rolled his eyes, ‘I told you I’m fine.’

‘You smashed your skull on the console,’ Keith snapped, ‘God knows the last thing you need is less brain cells.’

‘My brain cells are perfectly fine and vast in numbers,’ To prove his point, Lance pushed himself on his knees and crawled until he hovered over Keith’s lap, watching how his eyes widened even if his body stayed still, ‘And they are more than able to consent.’ 

Keith’s arms uncrossed, one hand coming up to grab his jaw, slowly moving his head side to side, inspecting him, ‘Your comms cut out.’

‘I had to reboot.’

‘We thought you were dead,’ he said flatly. Lance didn’t move, swallowing under Keith’s palm, ‘Eight minutes, Lance. Do that again and I’ll kill you myself.’

Lance looked down at Keith, eyes fixed dead on his, and forced a smile, ‘Blue’s friendly enough,’ he said, ‘It’s not the end of the world.’ Keith’s brow hardened. The hand on Lance’s jaw pulled him down and Keith's mouth was on his, urging, teeth biting down on his bottom lip and hands running down from his face to his chest, across his stomach, tugging at his shirt.

‘You’re fucking impossible,’ he hissed, ‘Lie down.’

Lance let Keith flip them, a hand coming round to the back of his head before it hit the pillow, cushioning it. The red paladin pulled his shirt off and set upon kissing lazily down Lance’s neck, across his torso, sucking and biting and kissing over the whole expanse of skin as his hands took their sweet time with the button on Lance’s jeans. He tried to help, to speed things up, but Keith batted his hands away.

‘Hands off. I’m taking care of you now.’ 

Keith slid his pants off, ran his hands over the length of Lance’s bare legs, up and down, the tiny bit of friction from his gloves making Lance twitch. Lance obeyed, keeping his hands to himself, shoving one over his mouth to keep back the soft keening noises as Keith’s fingers brushed ghostlike over the place he really wanted them to go. 

‘If you get yourself killed out here,’ Keith whispered into the room, eyes fixed on Lance’s stomach, how it rose and stuttered when Keith touched him, ‘I will hate you forever.’

‘Keith,’

‘I mean it,’ his eyes flicked back up to Lance, searching again, ‘Whatever’s going on in your head, that’s all it is. You aren’t replaceable so don’t act like it.’

This was the exact opposite of what Lance wanted to think about. Oh, now Keith wanted a conversation. Since when was that what they did?

‘No shit,’ he bit back a moan as Keith ran his fingers over Lance’s growing bulge, ‘Who else is gonna suck your dick if I die?’

‘Stop deflecting,’ Keith palmed down hard on his crotch, making his spine arch up against the bed, ‘And accept what I’m telling you. Don’t do that to us.’ He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Lance’s underwear, leaning down to press kisses against his hipbones, ‘Let me make you feel good.’

Keith’s hand on him was slower than normal, fingers delicate as they traced up his length. He’d taken one of his gloves off but kept the other on as he shimmied back up to kiss him, Keith’s tongue in his mouth and his hand on Lance’s cock locking both ends of his body in a slow, steadily build upwards. It wasn’t teasing, the kind that made Lance a writhing mess before Keith finally gave in to his begging and got serious. 

‘Come on, Keith,’ he panted, ‘I’m not going to break.’

Keith didn’t speed up, hissed into his mouth, ‘I said lie down.’

Despite the hardness of his tone, his touch was gentle, Lance’s legs wrapping around Keith’s hips to pull him closer, steadfastly refusing to open his eyes because he knew the sight of Keith on top of him, his hands seemingly everywhere across Lance’s skin, and those eyes boring down into his soul would send him over. The feeling of Keith’s clothes - Jesus he was still fully dressed - against his naked body made him feel exposed, but he didn’t care enough to mind, lost in Keith’s hands on him and the desperate need to stop thinking. He let Keith hold him, Lance’s nails gripping into his shirt as he undid his own jeans and pulled himself out, already hard, to drag against Lance and send him reeling. Keith took them both in his hand, slick from Lance’s precome, and pumped them together, the throb of Keith against him making him thrust up into the heat.

He lingered on the edge of climax for what felt like hours, feeling the pulse of Keith’s cock and the squeeze of his hand around Lance, too slow to leave him taut and breathless but too much to do anything beside hold tighter to Keith’s back, pull him in closer, let Keith’s tongue lick gently into his mouth and try not to bite down as he brought Lance closer to the end. The red paladin kissed across his jaw and nibbled at his earlobe to whisper, ‘You’re doing good,’ before Lance went over the crater’s lip. Falling, flying, fucking up into Keith’s hand, against his cock as he came, Keith still whispering in his ear but the words were drowned out, a thumb stroking back and forth over his cheek and his vision spotting black and white. 

****

A commotion, muffled by the door, came from outside. Voices, whirring, the door hissing open and the rest of their team burst into the room with a front row view to Keith kissing Lance's fingers and Lance stroking back his hair. He pulled back like he’d been shot, leaving only his hand in Keith’s dangling near the edge of the dentist’s chair, feeling like lead and praying it didn’t show on his face. 

‘What did they say,’ Shiro spoke first, hovering over the other side of Keith, ‘Is it broken?’

‘Dislocation and a partial rotator cuff tear,’ Lance informed him, pointing at the band around Keith’s shoulder, ‘They have this like, metal thing, like a healing pod but localised, they put on him to rejoin the cartilage, should take a few days before he’s back to normal. But the painkillers are working,’ he turned back to Keith and couldn’t stop from matching his smile, ‘Swearing slightly less than a sailor now.’

One collective exhale from their teammates before they all crowded around Keith, rambling and talking over each other about the rest of the mission (no casualties but some injuries), repair efforts (already in progress), and Allura nearly slapping the first councillor they came across for neglecting to warn them of the danger (holy shit, Lance wished he’d seen that one). They stayed with them for a few more hours as the painkillers worked through Keith’s bloodstream and he slowly mellowed out into his not-quite-usual self again. Still high on the venom, but not on the hospital drugs. One by one, the paladins left to get ready for the evening banquet and celebration of the new alliance that had completely slipped Lance’s mind as soon as the siren went off.

He led Keith back to their room with one hand against his back, coming through the door to see their clothes, the fine fabrics presented to Allura, laid out on the bed. No guesses for the colours. Keith sniffed at himself and wrinkled his nose, ‘I reek.’ Lance bent down to smell him, Keith’s good hand coming to shove his head away.

‘Maybe a little. I’ll warm up the shower,’ he tugged at the flight suit, pooled around Keith’s hips, ‘You just get the rest of this off.’

‘Only got one arm,’ Keith leant back against the wall, crossing his ankles over, ‘Might need you to help me.’ That same smug glitter in his eye, a little dull beneath the cloud, but unmistakable. Lance thought back to the cavern, as soon as there was work to do, how all the dopiness vanished and Keith, for the first time in days, had actually acted like Keith, sharp and focused. It made him think. 

Lance approached him, two fingers to his chin to tilt his face to the side, Keith baring his neck without resistance. The bite had faded some more, leaving little more than a small dot of redness under his ear. Jeez, he was running through this quick. How much longer? Lance kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. 

‘I’m sure you’ll manage. Keep it easy.’

He did have to help Keith towel off his hair and wrap the vast, red, slightly itchy fabric around to look as much like clothing as possible, silver brooch in his mouth to pin it up. Doing his own wasn’t much easier, trying to drape it around himself while Keith hummed, good arm even more useless than the bad one.

‘It looks like bad cosplay,’ he groaned.

Keith tucked one of the folds against his fabric and kissed him again. Lance couldn’t decide whether to indulge or repress the warmth in his belly. There wouldn’t be many more. ‘You look good,’ Keith assured him, smoothing down the discount toga, tugging at the belt he’d used to secure it around his waist, ‘Come on sharpshooter, let’s knock ‘em dead.’

The grand hall had been freshly painted in sprawling oceanic murals, paintings like the sea monsters on those old timey maps he remembered from home showing creatures even his nephews and nieces would struggle to dream up. Garlands of dried flowering kelp hung from the arches, and the floor was filled with clusters of Erukin adorned with seashells secured around their bodies, draped in similar fabrics to the paladins. Huh. Clothes only for special occasions? Still not the weirdest thing he’d seen. 

Dinner consisted of, shock and horror, more seafood, with a few kelp leaves and wet, pale tubers for sides. Agriculture was probably a little trickier underwater, but it did leave the general cuisine feeling rather salty. Very salty. In fact, salt was the dominant flavour profile all through the banquet. Lance wondered if there was any gear from the doctors to check his cholesterol. Tables stretched out along each wall, holding about a hundred guests each. Half of Eruk, it seemed, had shown up to celebrate.

Keith was still picking at his food, wrinkling his nose again like an irritated rabbit. Lance nudged him with an elbow, ‘You don’t like it?’

‘There’s too many people.’

Ah, yes. Keith’s never ending social aversion probably would rear its head at times like this. Lance reached under the table to squeeze his knee. ‘When it’s finished you can go hide.’

‘Will you come?’

Those eyes were back on him. This time, at least, he knew what Keith was searching for, ‘Of course.’

Lance choked down a few more shellfish and Keith picked a little more at his plate, unable to hold Lance’s hand under the table with only one arm in action. When dinner was finished and a platoon of attendants flushed out to clear away the tables, musicians flocked to the balconies and began a gentle, waltzing tune that sounded kind of how he imagined bubbles would sound if you made them into an instrument. He found a corner for him and Keith to perch against as people flooded into the centre of the room as people toasted their drinks and danced, mingling like their lives depended on it. 

‘What do you reckon that one’s game is?’ Lance pointed discreetly to the Erukin badgering Shiro, who was trying to fend them off as politely as he could.

Keith scoffed, ‘Anything from hero worship to solicitation,’ Lance nearly spat his drink out through his nose and Keith laughed harder, ‘Usually what he gets at these things.’

Allura floated amongst clusters, ever the graceful diplomat, thanking the Erukin for their hospitality and alliance. Hunk and Pidge found the city’s scientists and were busy bombarding them with every question they could think of, Hunk about the localised healing units and Pidge about the best applications for orichalcum. Coran was up in the balconies, pestering the conductor about the similarity between Altean and Erukin chord progression in folk music. Their attention flicked between members of the team and a few noteworthy locals until they were interrupted by one of the latter approaching.

The Erukin was taller than most, holding their limbs delicately close to their chest and draped in a thin, gauzy purple like a chiton. They hid their grin behind their hand and bowed their head when Keith and Lance noticed them.

‘My apologies paladins,’ they giggled, ‘I’ve been finding the courage to approach you all night. The first sting of the season is all anyone is talking about, and for it to be the mighty paladins of Voltron!’ The local turned back, looked behind at a gaggle of others beckoning and laughing to each other, staring openly at the interaction, ‘Outside of a bonded pair, and left uncured! It’s astounding. We’d die to know anything,’

Keith’s grin faltered flat and his free hand found Lance’s elbow, ‘There’s nothing to know. I feel fine. We’re fine.’

The Erukin’s face twitched, ‘I did not mean to-’

‘You’re all good,’ Lance tried to smooth it over, wrapping his hand back around Keith's waist to pull him in, ‘Ignore him, he’s not a big party guy.’ Keith’s glare didn’t soften, but it did flick between the native and Lance, then back, ‘I think gossip makes it sound more interesting than it is. Nothing salacious to report, I’m afraid.’

‘Well,’ the Erukin blinked slowly, gaze turning a little left of playful, ‘If… I hope you return to Eruk, when you are not so,’ Keith hardened as they looked at him, ‘Occupied. It would be an honour to get better acquainted with you. We have heard a lot about the paladins.’

Keith stirred forward, ‘You-’

‘That’s very kind,’ Lance pulled his teammate away by the waist, ‘I think we are going to look around for a while, there’s so much of your wonderful citadel we’ve yet to see.’

He managed to steer Keith out of the hall without much fight, muttering angrily under his breath about ridiculous, shameless, can’t they see that we’re- and whatever else before Lance stopped listening to him. They walked up staircases, down different ones, through hallways and past attendants and wound deeper into the underwater city. Eventually they found a quiet chamber, no doors, but curving round, with the only window he’d seen in the whole city. It made him stop dead. It made him stop breathing.

 Vast, the size of two buses next to each other, with a big, tinted view of the reef beyond. Towers of coral, schools of fish fluttering past, anemones and purple seaweed lapping gently at the glass. Lance stilled. Glass about a meter thick, but beyond it, the sea. He could hear the beating of the tide whooshing against the glass like distant wind, the wall bathed in the gentle blue light of the ocean. It reminded him of an aquarium. For a moment he forgot about the pissed off, stroppy, beautiful boy he was wrangling, dropped his arms and floated towards the window. 

For a moment he thought it was a projection. Some kind of hologram meant to simulate the outside world, but his fingers brushed against the glass and the picture didn’t shift. It was real. The real ocean, not his, but still ocean. Not the fish he recognised, but fish. So close and yet so blisteringly far. He wondered for the millionth time since leaving Earth how many light years it was. More than he’d live to travel.

Keith came up behind him, tucking his chin into Lance’s shoulder and wrapping his good arm around his waist, the sling pressed between Lance’s back and Keith’s chest. His body was warm, sapped of tension and close against him, and his voice was low, close to Lance’s ear, ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘They should have these everywhere,’ he breathed. He’d spent all this time on Eruk hating it, hating every part of this situation. Now, struck with the reality, the coral reef right before his eyes, he wanted to go back and enjoy it all. ‘Better than a party.’

‘Or a parade?’

‘Way better. Ten parades at least.’ Keith laughed, let go of him to come around to his side and hold his hand, watching the alien fish swim past. A long time passed where they said nothing, just watching the ocean breeze past them in silence.

‘Thank you,’ Keith’s voice was barely above the whisper of the waves outside, ‘For shutting it down.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘I get,’ Keith’s fingers twitched around his, ‘I get nervous. Defensive. It’s immature, maybe. Sometimes I feel like I’m just waiting for the day you get tired of this.’

He turned away from the window, mouth falling open. Keith’s eyes were still fixed out far into the water, and he didn’t move when Lance tucked a finger under his chin. Lance turned fully to him, pulling him by the hand to look him in the eye. Keith looked up through his eyelashes, dark eyes reflecting the light twinkling off the fish scales, full of something new and fragile. Not new, Lance thought. He’d seen it the night before.

‘That day’s not gonna come,’ he said, a little thicker than he wanted, ‘It’s not.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Come on man,’ he tried to laugh, ‘When have I ever been normal about you? Not at the Garrison, not at the start,’ Lance licked his lips. Everything felt dry, ‘Not now either. I don’t think I’m capable of it.’ He knew the words Keith wanted to hear, that would make him happy right now. But he couldn’t, however much he felt it. One tiny piece of dignity to keep for himself. ‘You asked me to believe you last night,’ he said instead, ‘Now it’s your turn. Sure, we piss each other off and we probably always will. I act up and you lash out and we drive each other crazy. But you keep me on my toes, Keith, you make me want to be better,’ he tipped down to press their noses together. Fuck it. He would take it all back anyway, ‘And that’s what I want. This - you’re what I want. Todo que lo quiero.’

‘You’re what I want too,’ he was still quiet, hand reaching up around Lance’s neck, ‘I love you.’

Kissing was a little awkward with Keith's arm hanging from the sling between them, but they managed it. Lance moved his hand to press against Keith's cheek, tilting his face up to lick against his bottom lip and make it gasp open. 

‘Stupid fucking arm,’ Keith sighed, ‘I want to be close to you.’

‘You’re close,’ Lance kissed him again, ‘You’re here.’

His arms sank down to Keith’s waist, holding him as Keith grasped and pulled at Lance’s hair, trying to kiss him harder, deeper, but Lance kept it gentle, a slight swaying of limbs and tongue and the slow, sweet enjoyment of nothing more than each other. The rational part of his brain was consumed by the rest of it, too desperate for any last dregs of affection, of the illusion that he let himself kiss Keith how he wanted to, try and pour all the things he kept back into it, as if the sheer force of his feelings could reach into Keith’s brain and grow them there too. This is what it could be like, he wanted to say. This is how I could love you. The world is so harsh on us, but I can be a soft place for you. Rest with me. Keith settled down into the pace, no longer trying to rush towards anything else, content to explore, holding Lance’s face, running his fingers up his scalp, tiny moans swallowed in his mouth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’

A punch of ice in his chest. Lance sprung back, holding Keith off when he tried to follow, and turned to see Shiro standing in the entryway, incensed. 

‘Shiro,’

‘I said what the fuck do you think you’re playing at, Lance?’ He crossed the room in seconds and yanked Keith off him, held him fast, ‘You told me you had it under control. Nothing would happen, you promised me.’

‘I wasn’t-’

‘You are taking advantage of him!’ 

Dread dropped from Lance’s throat to settle like rocks in his stomach. Taking advantage. All the times he let Keith talk, let him touch, all the times he indulged his stupid feelings over the last three days. He took advantage of Keith when he was vulnerable, for what, for a silly fantasy? Over a crush? He felt sick. He was going to be sick right now, right all over the aquarium window. 

‘He was not!’ Keith tried to shake himself free but Shiro’s grip was firm, ‘Can you just leave us alone?’

Their leader didn’t take his eyes off Lance, ‘Stay out of this Keith.’

‘You’re talking about me!’

Shiro whirled around to face his protege, ‘And you are not in your right mind right now, so stay out of it!’

‘I told him to kiss me!’

‘Keith it’s fine,’

‘While you were drugged,’ Shiro hissed, turning back to Lance, ‘Which is not fucking ‘fine’, and does not fucking count as wanting it.’

‘Shiro, it’s not like that, I swear,’ Lance begged, ‘I know what it looks like but,’

‘It better not be what it fucking looks like,’ Shiro gripped Keith’s wrist tighter as he tried to wriggle free, ‘Because it looks like you’ve been using my brother to get off while he’s ill.’

‘Shiro I told you-’

‘No, I’d, I would never do that to him,’ Lance’s hands weren’t sure what to do, his head shook back and forth like he’d lost control of it, he took a step forwards then back, ‘Nothing like that happened, Shiro, I wouldn’t do that to him,’

‘We offered you space last night and you said no. Is this why?’

‘No!’ Lance shook his head so hard it hurt, ‘I didn’t, I wouldn’t-’

‘I think we need to have a long discussion about your place on the team,’ his face hardened into stone, ‘If this is how you treat your fellow paladins.’

Lance has been shot. He has been blown up, beaten up, faced broken bones and concussions and most injuries that one might reel off the top of their head. And he would rather do all of that again, suffer them all at once, than what he felt hearing that. Shiro thought he was a monster. Shiro wanted him to leave. Maybe he was right. Ketih wrenched himself free.

‘He hasn’t done anything wrong!’ he yelled, ‘I wanted him to kiss me, every time, because guess what? I’ve kissed him before, more than kissed him, before that stupid fucking bug made everyone lose their goddamn minds, and if you can stop freaking the hell out over it I’ll kiss him when it’s over too!’

Shiro looked like he’d been slapped, ‘Keith, you’re not thinking straight,’

‘Why is everyone so convinced I’m crazy?’ The red paladin pressed his good hand to his eyes and kicked at the wall, ‘What do you all think has happened? I wanted him to, I said it’s fine, I told you I loved him and nobody fucking believes me! I bit the stupid bullet and finally said it and finally, finally it’s what I’ve wanted but you’re all still treating me like I’m crazy!’ His breathing grew hard and laboured, shaking hand gripping at his hair. ‘What is it? What was it? Something’s wrong,’

‘Keith nobody thinks you’re crazy,’ Shiro tried to calm him down, ‘We just think - we know - that you’re sick, and you’re not yourself right now,’

‘I am myself!’

‘Shiro, don’t fight him on it,’ Keith’s head whipped back to him, ‘He won’t listen.’

‘Not a fucking word out of you.’ 

‘Lance,’ Keith came back to him, clenching his robes in a fist and yanking him until they were eye to wild, manic eye, ‘You said you believed me. I love you. Don’t listen to Shiro, he doesn’t get it, you haven’t done anything wrong. I want this. I love you, I promise, please say you believe me. This whole time, this whole fucking time and I can’t keep it in anymore. If you want to go back to before that’s okay, I can handle it, just please. Please say you believe me. Tell me you don’t think I’m crazy.’

Keith’s face was so desperate, big pretty eyes welling up and set on him like an ion cannon, his hand gripping hard at Lance’s clothes and begging him to just say it, trembling with the strength he put into it. ‘Keith…’ 

His face fell, the tears spilled over, and Lance had no time to wipe them away before Keith was shaking violently, collapsing into Lance until Shiro pulled him off, still jerking, to steady his back against the wall. His breathing came sharp and staggered and Lance knew the moment it dropped where it was going. He braced himself. Keith stilled to twitching, blinked a few times, looked up. At Shiro, at Lance, down at his good hand, still trembling. Eyes wide and jaw hanging open in shock. His face looked bloodless.

‘Shit,’ he muttered, ‘No no no no no, shit shit, fuck, shit I’m so sorry, not like this please not like this, I’m so-’ He batted at Shiro’s chest, slipped out, and ran from the room without looking at them, still cursing and apologising. Lance’s back hit the window and everything inside him went boom. 

Shiro said something else. Maybe he didn’t. Then he was gone, and Lance was alone. 

****

By the time Lance opened his eyes, Keith had stripped off his shirt and was using it to sponge their come off Lance’s stomach and his own hand. He looked up, saw Lance looking back at him, and smiled. Lance wished he wouldn’t.

‘Was about to call someone,’ he huffed, ‘You were out for a few minutes.’

‘Take it as a compliment,’ Lance stretched his arms above his head and yawned, ‘Sorry for jumping you, I’m sure you’re tired. Just toss me my pants and I’ll leave you alone.’ Keith threw his shirt on the washbasket and reached down to the floor, untangling Lance’s underwear and slipping it over his ankles, up to his thighs for Lance to wriggle into. 

‘Take your time,’ Keith shrugged, ‘If you fall asleep I’ll bring you back to your room.’

‘Probably bash my head again on the doorway.’

‘And it still wouldn’t wake you,’ he shot back, picking his glove up off the floor and pulling it back on with his teeth. Goddammit. Lance was too tired to go again. He decided to let that one go, flopping back down on the mattress.

‘Mm, you took it out of me,’ he yawned, ‘Maybe just a few minutes.’

Keith leaned down and kissed him. Not like he had at the start, not like he had at any other time. A gentle, almost chaste press of his mouth, lingering a little, but not pushing further. Sweet, almost. As much as anything about their arrangement could be called that. His hand flew to Keith’s hair, tugging a little in a way he knew worked him up, but Keith just took his hand and laid it back on the pillow beside his head. 

‘Rest,’ he kissed Lance again, barely a peck, ‘You need it.’

Lance woke up in his own bed, tucked in with his eye mask around his face, half wondering if he had gone to Keith’s room at all until he checked under the covers and saw he was only wearing his boxers. The rest of his clothes were folded neatly by his feet. He thought about Keith over him, the feeling of their lengths pressed together, and how Keith had kissed him after. Keith had carried him into his room, tucked him in, put his eye mask on, and folded up his clothes. Lance avoided him for the rest of the day, still thinking about it.

****

At some point he got off the floor. He watched the ocean for a little longer, but it wasn’t as beautiful now. Wandering through the halls that all looked the same, distant noise of the party getting louder until he turned sharply the other way. His feet brought him to his room, their room, the room he’d shared with Keith, and he stood still outside the door for a long while before turning away. 

Shiro was going to kick him out of Voltron. Shiro was going to tell the team, his friends, that he’d taken advantage of Keith, done horrible things, and they were going to put him on the first pod to wherever else. And Keith… Keith hated him. He could see it in his face the second Keith woke up. The regret, the disgust, the sheer terror that he might have felt something for Lance even under chemical obligation. The fact that Lance had allowed it, welcomed it, been happy to hold his hand and kiss him and not leave as soon as one of them drifted off. Lance knew, as soon as Keith opened his eyes, that there was no taking it back. Everything was over, they’d find another blue paladin and leave him behind as an embarrassing blip in their past, never to mention again. At least he might be seeing his family soon. 

He stumbled into Blue’s cockpit, ignored her attempts to calm him with her purring, and passed out in the pilot seat, dreading the moment he woke up.

Chapter Text

Keith ran. As fast as he could for as long as he could, down corridors and up staircases and through room after rounded, spongy room. Footsteps hounded down after him but he was faster than Lance, he just had to keep going. Hallway, staircase, room. Wrecked arm swinging in the broken joint like all hell as he ran. Door, unlocked, empty - thank god - slam it shut and fall back against it, down to the floor. Knocking, fists pounding behind his back. He couldn’t face Lance, not right now. Maybe not even in the next decaphoeb.

‘Keith,’ it was Shiro, ‘Keith, please open the door. Talk to me.’

He dropped his face into his knees, ‘Go away.’ Shiro had been there, seen the very worst of it. He had watched Keith lose his fucking mind over Lance, spill his awful guts out and beg Lance to catch them, he had- oh no. Oh God, he had caught them. Shiro had drawn the wrong, terrible conclusion and ran with it, all the way to Hell. Keith’s head shot up and he twisted to yell at the door, ‘You need to talk to Lance. Shiro, you-’

A heavy sigh through the metal, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.’ He could almost hear their leader’s frown, ‘We can figure out together what you want to do about this. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.’ Goddammit. That was his teacher voice. Keith let his head fall against the door a little harder than necessary. Then again, as if he could blunt force trauma the past three days out of his memory. 

Every ridiculous side effect that stupid fucking bug had and forgetting your humiliating behaviour wasn’t one of them? He’d worked so hard to keep it hidden. Lance was never, ever going to find out and it was never going to be a problem unless Keith had a sudden spurt of deathbed foolishness. Or, apparently, until an alien beetle turned him into a pile of goo with no thought in his head beside a single minded obsession with destroying his own life. Now everything was ruined.

‘I mean it, Shiro,’ Keith spoke against the door. He heard the slide of cloth of metal as Shiro sat down on the other side, ‘He wasn’t-’ Why couldn’t one of those goddamn mines collapse right now? That would be infinitely preferable to this conversation. He’d give them the other arm to get out of this, ‘Whatever it seemed. I told him to do it.’

‘Yeah,’ Shrio scoffed, ‘Seems like you told him a lot. Lance should know better than to listen.’

‘And you’re not listening,’ Keith shook his head, metal cool against his skin, sweating from running and embarrassment, ‘We’ve- shit. Back in the castle, when I kissed him at the table and he got mad, I was clawing out of it. For a minute I could control myself. And I told him to. Me, no bug involved. I told him - fuck, Shiro - I begged him to. That’s what - everything he’s been doing, it wasn’t because he fucking felt like it. It was because I wouldn’t leave him alone.’

Shiro was quiet for a long time. He heard a few noises, tired breathing and groans of frustration.

‘What aren’t you telling me?’ He asked eventually, ‘And don’t give me that, ‘nothing oh my god leave me alone’ bull right now Keith, you’re not sixteen anymore. The truth, please.’

‘Um,’ His throat closed up. Every second was worse than the last. He had truly, honestly, hoped that Shiro would either never know or just magically figure it out one day, no conversation required. ‘Don’t freak out.’

‘Keith,’

‘We’ve been, uh, hooking up,’ Shiro made a noise like an old dial up and before he could rage some more Keith cut him off, ‘Before, before, this started months ago!’

‘And has it continued?’

‘Not since,’ he shook his head despite the fact Shiro couldn’t see it, ‘The last time was the night before I got stung. He was, um, very strict about it. He didn’t want me while I was… Jesus I was all over him, every chance I got I kept trying to get him to-’

‘Okay, thank you,’ Shiro sounded winded, ‘I don’t need all the details. For god’s sake, Keith. Shit. I feel awful…’ Well, Keith thought. At least this discussion was awful for both of them.

‘I feel worse,’ Keith added, letting himself lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling, pale blue and dimly lit, ‘Much worse.’ 

‘How the hell did I miss that?’ He asked, more to himself than Keith, so he didn’t answer. A few sounds of shuffling and Shiro’s voice came closer, like his head was right up against the door, ‘You said you loved him.’

Keith shut his eyes, ‘Thanks for reminding me.’

‘Quite a lot.’

‘Is this some kind of humiliation-’

‘Do you?’ 

Maybe he just hadn’t banged his head hard enough. Surely if he got a real good one in, this could be everyone else’s problem instead. It certainly seemed more appealing.

Keith sighed, throwing his good arm over his eyes, as if seeing the room made it any more or less real, any more or less pathetic, ‘Not on purpose.’

And that was the crux of it. He never meant to get this bad, go this far. Lance was loud, he was annoying, he was an outrageous flirt who took frustratingly little of their jobs seriously unless someone was shooting. He hated Keith and half the time Keith hated him back. Keith hated his excessive array of toiletries and his seemingly endless knowledge of celebrity drama; he hated how Lance always knew which button to press and how to get right under his skin, hated how he always knew when to give Keith space and when to stay close, hated how he yelled at Keith for getting injured then brushed it off when it was his turn. He hated his dumb hair and his dumb face and especially his dumb smile that made Keith want to run away or hit something. Most of all Keith hated himself for ending up in love with the asshole anyway. He thought, back on the training deck, that maybe a taste would show him it wasn’t all he’d imagined it would be. Get Lance out of his system. Look how that turned out.

‘It’s not the end of the world,’

‘It could be!’ Keith knew he sounded childish but was past the point of caring, ‘This is war, Shiro. We don’t have time for that. “Stress relief” is one thing, but this is vulnerability. It’s a weakness, and I can’t afford that. None of us can.’

Shiro hummed, ‘I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,’ he said, ‘We got flung in a horrible situation, and there’s a lot riding on us. On you, and that’s not fair. You, all of you, you’re still young. Too young, really, and that’s not fair either,’ Shiro sounded a lot older than he was when he spoke, ‘But you need something to fight for. Duty can only take you so far until you break. You need something else in your life, Keith, that makes it easier to bear the rest. Or you’ll burn yourself up until there’s nothing left of you. If that’s… If it’s him, then it’s not weak. You two balance each other out. It’ll make you stronger.’

Keith thought back to the hospital. How much easier it had been to bear the doctors when Lance was with him, telling him it was okay. How much better he fought when he knew Lance was up in the rafters, covering him. How much deeper he’d been sleeping the past few days. It was pointless to consider though, it would never happen.

‘Doesn’t matter either way.’

Shiro took a moment to respond, ‘Why not?’

‘Because he doesn't want me,’ Keith laughed. It felt cold. ‘It’s just sex.’ The room was cold, now that the adrenaline was gone, ‘He had one rule, Shiro. Don’t make it weird. Maybe I felt weird, but it wasn’t as much then and I wasn’t acting like it. But now… Weird is a long way back from what it is now. It’s done. It’s over. He couldn’t even look at me.’

‘Just because he said it then-’

‘Neither of us are that stupid,’ he said. ‘You should go find him. Don’t bring him here, but find him. It isn’t his fault.’

‘Lance probably needs some time to cool off,’ Shiro tried to play the diplomat, ‘I’ll talk to him in the morning.’

‘You threatened to kick him off the team,’ Keith sat up, ‘And you know, we all know, what you were accusing him of. It’s not fair to him, Shiro, not when all he did was what I asked him to. Go apologize, please, or it’ll just get worse.’

‘Keith,’

‘I’ll be fine,’ he snapped, ‘Sort out a place to sleep or whatever. Fix my mess at some point, but this one’s yours.’

‘Which I would not have made if you’d been upfront with me,’

‘Friends with benefits isn’t usually public knowledge,’ Keith said, ‘In future I’ll come straight to you every time I get laid, okay?’

‘Sass is not a good look on you,’ Shiro groaned, muttering something under his breath, but Keith heard him push himself to his feet, ‘I’ll search around for him. Worst case, I’ll see him tomorrow when we go. Head back to your room,’

‘I’m not going back there,’ Keith cringed, ‘He doesn’t want to see me. I’ll find somewhere else to crash. Just - fuck. Don’t tell Lance that I, um. Don’t tell him what I said.’

Another sigh, ‘I won’t,’ Shiro tapped lightly against the wall, ‘But you should.’

Good one, Takashi. Keith had spent the last twenty four hours telling Lance he loved him, and it had only made him cry. That was all the answer he needed. ‘When did you get funny?’

‘When I became the only one here with a fully developed brain,’ he deadpanned, ‘Get some sleep. For goodness’ sake,’ he shuffled, giving the door a farewell pat, ‘Don’t eat yourself alive. I’m sure you two can fix this.’

Keith wouldn’t count on it.

A place to crash ended up being the same room he ran into and the floor he was already lying on. He woke up stiff, hungry, and with a killer crack in his neck. 

Keith spent a good hour after waking just wandering the vast network of underwater halls, ignoring how everyone he passed stared openly at him. First sting of the season was well and truly over. At one point he accidentally stumbled back across the room with the window and immediately wheeled back out of it, unwilling to unpack the weight in his chest. He listened carefully for any familiar voices and went straight back the other way when he heard them, winding deeper into the coral maze in the vain effort of avoiding his teammates, and by extension his problems, for as long as physically possible. 

‘Paladin!’ someone called behind him. Keith turned to see a servant he vaguely recognized, but not enough to place. They seemed out of breath, flapping their feet fast against the ground to catch up to him. He stopped and waited for them, webbed hands on their naked knees, and spoke.

‘Paladin,’ they repeated, ‘We have been trying to find you. Once your partner said he had no knowledge of where you went, we lived in fear for your wellbeing!’ His partner? It took his brain a minute to catch up - Lance. Right. An entire planet thought they were together because venom-Keith had told them so, very loudly and in front of their entire government. Fantastic. Self inflicted cranial trauma was back on the table. ‘Now that I have found you, I can bring you back to him,’

‘That’s okay,’ he slipped away before the Erukin could touch him, ‘We’re, um. The sting is over. I’m fine now, I don’t need to, uh, to go back to him. All good, good and normal.’

The alien blinked, ‘But we believed-’

‘Yeah,’ he ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor and realizing he was still in this godforsaken robe, ‘My bad. We aren’t, we have never been, I mean, a… pair. Guess the beetle made me think it.’

‘I see.’ The Erukin had straightened up, eyeing Keith like they absolutely did not see, ‘Though - if I may - it is rather unorthodox. To experience-’

Fuck. He had to cover this. God, are you listening? Please let me have this one. I’m sorry about when I went to Garrison chapel and spent the whole time thinking their statue of Jesus was hot. They didn’t need to give him abs. I’ll be better, ‘Yeah,’ Keith bluffed, ‘But I’m, um, we’re different species. And I’m half Galra,’ he didn’t have time to get upset at how they flinched. Perhaps it would work in his favour, ‘So it’s different for me, and some symptoms would be, um, different too.’ 

If it got back to the team that he hadn’t acted like a standard Khapera victim, they’d start asking why. Lance would ask why. Keith had his own suspicions, ones that would stay nailed in his head until the day he died. His one and only saving grace right now was plausible deniability. Shiro knowing was bad enough. If that club got any bigger he would, well, he didn’t actually know what he’d do. Hide forever, probably. Bring a pillow to the training room, maybe a food goo hose, and never come out unless the sirens were going. Plausable deniability. Take it all back, everything was the venom, absolutely everything and please don’t look too hard into it.

He checked down both lengths of the hallway. Empty. No witnesse- no, he was absolutely not going to kill a civilian to cover up his crush. Lie Kogane, lie some more, ‘It’s biology. There’s no need to make a big thing out of it. At all. In fact,’ Lying was harder than it looked. His poor facade of calm was fracturing, ‘Don’t mention it. To anyone. Or think about it, really, because it’s completely normal for my DNA, because it’s different. Not unexpected.’

The servant looked approximately half convinced. Good enough, as long as they kept their mouth shut. Silently, they nodded, turned around, and left him alone in the hallway. Keith shuffled, unsure if he was ready to face it, and decided not.

After several more hours of playing hide and seek with his team and the entire city - at least it felt like hours, if the ache in his feet and the gnawing in his stomach was a good judge - he finally braved their room, sick of the itchy robe on his skin. He knocked, waited, nothing. Slid the door open - empty. Something dense in his stomach he couldn’t name. His bag was at the foot of his bed, right where he’d left it, zipped up with all his stuff inside, which was not how he’d left it. Lance’s bag was gone. Growing denser in his stomach, heavy now. Keith stripped, showered, brushed his teeth until his gums bled, and got dressed. It took longer than usual on account of doing it one armed, and he didn’t stop to inspect the wave of bruises that snaked out from the metal band on both sides. Whatever.

He hadn’t brought enough clean clothes and they’d been cuddling for two nights. Everything smelled of Lance, of his sprays and scented lotions, and if it were in any way permissible Keith would just go naked. He grabbed his bag and went to Green’s hangar.

Pidge was there, tinkering at some handheld device she’d snagged from whichever Erukin she must have bullied into handing it over, but nobody else. She looked up to see him alone, eyes a little wide before she schooled her face.

‘You back then?’ She asked, almost sounding casual. Keith grunted, ‘Good. That was weird.’

‘Yep,’ Would the whole flight be this awkward? Maybe his jet pack could take him to the castle, ‘Who else is coming?’

‘Shiro and Allura,’ she snapped a panel on the back shut, ‘Rest are going with Lance. You know,’ Against his will, Keith’s chest tightened, ‘He’s not mad at you over it.’

‘Thanks Pidge,’

‘Like he knows you didn't-’

‘Thank you.’ He said harder, ‘We can wait for them without talking.’

Pidge got the message, went back to her tinkering until the others arrived. Allura arrived with Shiro in tow, both shooting nauseatingly pitying looks in Keith’s direction - the club was one bigger then. He narrowed his eyes at Shiro, who only shrugged, looking sheepish. Traitor. 

The others, mainly Allura, made polite chatter during the flight back to the castle about the success of the new alliance and how much easier castle repairs will be with orichalcum at hand. Keith didn’t bother to pretend to listen, darting out of the hangar and straight to his room as soon as Green landed. They let him go.

Keith wasn’t entirely sure if he was really good at hiding or if nobody was looking. He split his time between his room, the training deck, and sneaking into the kitchen in the early hours of the night/morning when he was sure it was safe. The routine really wasn’t all that different from his normal one, but for a single exception that he didn't like to think about, though it made him suspect that the team were avoiding him too. Despite the pain in his shoulder and the sling throwing off his agility, training was a reliable, dependable means to wipe his head clean, even if he had to scale back the gladiator and switch his bayard to a weaker hand. For however long he stayed on the deck, he wasn’t dreading the moment he finally had to face the blue paladin again. He didn’t feel weak.

 Lance had probably told Hunk how he’d acted, especially now that Keith had broken rule one by telling Shiro what they'd been doing. Even if Lance had more integrity than him and kept that part secret, it made two people he could never stare down again. More by now, judging how Shiro kept trying to corral him into gentle conversations, and how easily he let Keith slip away every time, each sigh a little heavier than the last.

A few days after returning to the castle, Keith was physically dragged by Coran out of the training deck and into the medbay for the metal band to come off, and then berated for half a varga about training before he was fully healed. He waited until Coran had finished, eyes on the door the whole time, and bolted as soon as the man stepped out of his way. Keith made a beeline for the training deck and set the gladiator to level six until he couldn’t get back up.

He lay on his back as the robot powered down, catching his breath and waiting for his vision to stop spinning. He knew he would feel it in the morning, could already feel where the bruises would form along his ribcage and stomach. But his blood was pumping harder than it had in days and his head was rushing through with endorphins, so his body would have to deal with it. Keith wished the sirens would ring, wished the Galra would attack and only briefly felt bad. This would be so much easier to deal with if he wasn’t stuck doing nothing. 

The castle was on their way to a nearby friendly planet to meet a trade delegation and smooth out tension between two recent allies, and this sector of the galaxy was relatively safe, but he wanted a fight. No, Keith wanted a battle. Something to throw himself into, square in the middle of his comfort zone. He’d been still too long, that’s the only reason he was wallowing. Avoiding Lance would be a lot easier from his lion. Not that Lance was making it hard. 

They’d only seen each other once since returning. It was on the second night back and lasted about a minute, Keith coming out of his room right as Lance was walking down the hall. He froze, thought about going back in, but Lance had seen him, already coughing awkwardly into his fist. 

‘Hi,’

Keith clenched his jaw, willed his pulse to slow, ‘Hey.’ Lance looked a little worse for wear. Tired, Keith noted, skin dull and a little puffy under his eyes. He wondered if the blue paladin laid awake at night as long as he did. His throat dried up and he forgot every word in the English language. Lance slowed to a stop before his room, kicking at nothing, watching his foot swing about with his hands in his pockets.

‘You, uh,’ he scuffed the toe of his sneakers on the linoleum, ‘How’re you feeling?’

Keith nodded, cleared his throat and forced himself to use his words like an adult, Kogane, ‘Yeah, all, um. Fine. Normal again.’ Was he imagining the thickness of the air? 

Lance smiled, nodded. It didn't reach his eyes.

‘Good to hear.’ 

The emergency lights brushed his face softly, bathing it blue like the sea window on Eruk. Keith’s stomach felt unattached inside him, ready to fly away. Lance coughed again, pointed down the hall with his thumb and swung his foot, turning to leave. 

‘Did-?’ Keith jerked out, hanging one hand onto the door frame to keep himself from barrelling straight into Lance. Absolutely not. There's nothing to blame it on now, ‘I explained it to Shiro. Sorry, I know we said that we- I know you wanted it quiet, but I just thought, I didn't want him to... He won’t tell anyone. But he said he would, um, that he would speak to you.’ He saw Lance wince as he felt the same pass through him. 

‘Yeah,’ Lance huffed something that was meant to be a laugh, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, ‘We spoke yesterday. Thanks, I guess. Probably the worst talk of my life,’ he fell quiet. Until now, Keith thought, ‘But I… appreciate it? Always nice to be exonerated.’ 

‘Okay,’ Keith said, seconds away from doing something stupid, ‘Goodnight.’

‘Night Keith,’ Lance turned halfway down the hall, stopped, looked back at him with another smile that didn’t go all the way up. For a moment he wanted to beg him to stay, throw himself at Lance's feet and scream apologies until one of them stuck, push Lance into screaming at him, push him into hitting him until they both fell down, bruised and bloody, anything to wipe that kicked dog look of his face, the one Keith knew he put there by pushing too hard in the first goddamn place, ‘S’good to have you back.’

Keith nodded again, chest aching, and turned back into his room, locking the door behind him so he couldn’t hear Lance walk away.

His memories of the venom came and went like trying to grab something underwater with the tide coming in. See it murkily, grasp, hold, but everything around it is vague and washed away in a minute. Keith remembered Lance holding him in the hallway but not what he said. He remembered searching for Lance when he left in the morning, the flicker of panic across his face when he saw Keith crawling like a zombie towards him but not how it felt before, searching aimlessly. When he bled his stupid fucking heart out in the room in Eruk and all Lance did was refuse to accept it, but not what the fuck his idiot brain was thinking when he did it. 

The way his feelings bubbled up right under his skin, blown to stratosphere like heavy bass in a club, too loud to understand anything over it. How a single minute without Lance beside him made his blood turn to radio static, then acid, then every cell a needle. How the relief of Lance’s mouth on his washed through him like a physical thing, stepping inside to a roaring fire in winter, and he could feel himself coming back to life. Loving Lance at the best of times was an irritation, catching himself staring, smiling, thinking when he did something that shouldn’t have been endearing but was and reprimanding himself for it. But it was one he could smother down, and that was his only saving grace. It had never, even at the worst of times, utterly consumed him, blown his carefully constructed restraint to shreds and made him so reckless, so exposed. 

Worst of all, he remembered Lance. Taking care of him, going along with it, not making fun of him. Playing along with Keith’s bug-addled fantasy despite every twist of his mouth or twitch of his eye. Saying whatever he had to say to keep Keith relaxed, words that played over and over on loop as Keith wallowed in his room, torturing himself.

You’re perfect. I miss you.

That day’s not gonna come.

When have I ever been normal about you?

Please don’t do this to me.

The last one was the worst. All the others opened a blurry door to something as sweet as it was horribly delusional. The maybe that hung a leaking bucket over his head, drip drip dripping into the hours he lay awake. Maybe this, maybe that, maybe something beneath it all was real. But the last one slammed that door shut, taking Keith’s fingers clean off with it. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t love me, because then I have to break you, because you always knew what this was. 

He would have preferred Lance to shun him. Toss him out to suffer alone and never see him so desperate. At least a little friendly bullying, come on. Nearly a year and a half in space and the one time Lance decides to be considerate, it’s over this? To know that he was so needy, so clingy and dependent that not even Lance of all people could find a joke in it made him want to crawl into his own skin, to set the gladiator up to 11 and let the universe take it from there.

Days slipped past him in this routine. Sleeping, training, hiding, sneaking into the kitchen on the brink of starvation. One morning Shrio convinced him to come to team training. He kept his head down and fought without a word. The next night Shiro asked him to sit down to ‘family dinner’. Keith ate in silence then left immediately. His intention was clear enough, but Keith wasn’t biting. He was perfectly fine being distant coworkers who never spoke unless they had to. His feelings would go away on their own, any day now. 

It didn’t matter if he still felt sick whenever he walked into a room and Lance was there. It didn’t matter if he felt sicker when Lance ran straight out, barely bothering with an excuse. And it certainly didn’t matter if he caught Lance looking at him during training, if they locked eyes for a minute, and Keith nearly fell over. None of it mattered. He would swallow it down until he shat it out if that was what he needed to do to forget about all of this. Shiro didn’t know what he was talking about. How could feeling like this possibly make him stronger? This was fucking excruciating. Mortifying. By the end of the week, it was exhausting. 

Keith didn’t want to admit it, digging into a bowl of goo somewhere in whatever passed for night in space, but he missed Lance. He missed arguing, he missed touching, he missed being within five meters of him without second guessing every muscle in his body. If Lance could just turn this into some big joke then he could force himself to laugh along, and they’d find a way over it. Maybe not back to before, Ketih was pretty sure there could be no more late night rendezvous after this, but teammates at least. Acquaintances. He’d take acquaintances if it made his chest stop hurting. 

But the silence, the two way silence, every second of it widened the chasm. Every time he looked at Lance and saw his own embarrassment mirrored there just made him see how much he’d ruined things. Would he have humiliated himself so much if he wasn’t already feeling it? Possibly, but a man can dream. If he hadn’t felt it, then he wouldn’t have to look at Lance and see it written all over him. He wasn’t that stupid. The discomfort, the pity, the awkwardness. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t make me be the bad guy. For all his faults, Lance never liked being the bad guy. That was probably why, Keith reasoned, he’d gone along with it so easily. But now, freed from the duress of keeping Keith alive, he wanted nothing to do with him. He'd made it weird.

****

‘Fuck, Keith,’ Lance’s voice came broken and rasping, a little muffled where the side of his face pressed against the pillow. One of Keith’s hands was on the back of his neck, holding him steady in place, and the other grabbed at his hip for leverage. He could see the sheen of sweat down Lance’s spine, silver in the stars beyond the window, trembling in its arch as Keith pushed back into him, enveloped in the tight, wet heat of his body. Lance stuttered out his name again, fingers tangling white knuckled in the sheets as he held himself up on his knees and elbows.

He knew Lance wanted something but didn’t have enough brain power to guess when Lance was gripping all around his dick, ‘Use your words, Lance,’

‘Harder, duro, please,’ he whimpered into the pillow, ‘I need it hard-ahh,’ Keith snapped his hips against Lance, spreading his knees a little for a better angle, using his hold on Lance to pull him back and send his whole body jolting when he slammed in. Then he did it again and again, setting a new rhythm of pulling out until only his head was still inside, thrusting the whole length back into him in one movement, making sure to angle down to he could slide up against his prostate on each stroke, punching breathy, staccato whines out of Lance with each smack of Keith’s hips against his ass.

‘This what you want? Like this?’ Lance’s grip on the sheets tightened more as he started rocking back into Keith, trying several times to speak between the moans tumbling out of him.

‘Si, yes, damelo, damelo.’ Shit. He knew what speaking Spanish did for Keith. His hips sped up, pounding hard and heavy into Lance until his arms started to buckle and the arch of his back faltered ever so slightly. His voice broke on nearly every sound as Keith took him apart, ‘Feels so good. Lo necesito, te necesito, porfa, porfa-ah! Fuck, fuck, ven dentro, hazme tuyo, tuyo porfa.’ Lance was rambling now, and Keith knew what that meant. He leaned down, draping himself across Lance’s back and bit down on the meat of his shoulder, hand moving from the back of his neck to come and hold him tight around the chest, ‘Se siente tan bien, mejor que cualquie- mmm, ah, fuck! Cerca, ‘stoy cerc- close, Keith, Keith I’m close,’ 

One of his arms unfolded beneath his head to jerk himself off. Keith smacked it away and took over, tugging at Lance’s cock in time with his own until Lance was squirming, writhing beneath him, curses slipping between languages as they became a garbled mess of moans and half words.

‘Me too,’ It was hard to keep his pace as the knot in his stomach unravelled, but he could feel the crescendo building in his gut, ‘Come for me, Lance. Come with me.’

‘Dentro, Keith, inside, inside- don’t fucking stop!’ Keith had slowed when he said it, but picked back up. He’d always pulled out before. The thought was making him dizzy and his pace went uneven, sloppy in the desperate chase to-

Lance cried out, almost a scream that sounded like Keith’s name. His whole body jerked, back arching down like a cat as his cock spasmed and spurted in Keith’s hand. His hips still moved back to meet him but slower now, energy drained, hole clenching and fluttering around him, and it was only a few more strokes before Keith followed him off the edge, burying himself deep and spilling inside of Lance, spent.

When they recovered, Keith ran a shower. After a few pointed jabs about ‘top etiquette’ he carried Lance into it, setting him on his feet and scrubbing his back lightly, his mouth going dry at the thin trickle of white running down his leg. It made some animal, maybe chauvinistic part of his brain run haywire, but god did it feel good to see; a physical reminder that however briefly, Lance had been his.

‘Okay,’ Lance hummed, turning around. Keith tore his eyes away just in time to see him, hair plastered to his face and a few suds running down his chest. He barely registered the cold on the half of his body outside of the spray, ‘Your turn.’

Wordlessly, Keith spun and let Lance rub soap across his back, trying not to lean into the touch, trying not to remember the claw marks Lance had left on him the first time they’d fucked. Trying not to wish he’d do it again. He let him rinse them both off with only mild complaining about Keith’s lack of regimen (‘I mean seriously, Red, not even moisturizer?’) and march him back to bed. Lance fell in first and patted the empty side next to him for Keith to follow. 

Lance turned on his side and Keith wrapped around his back, throwing an arm over his stomach and pretending to relax. He waited for Lance’s breathing to deepen, even out. Keith peeled himself free and fumbled in the dark for his underwear, promptly smacking his head on the corner of the bed nook and cursing as quietly as possible.

****

The door hissed open and Keith got ready to run. Run if it was Shiro, definitely run if it was Lance, probably run if it was- Hunk?

‘Oh, uh,’ the yellow paladin mumbled, clearly not expecting to find him, ‘Hey man.’

‘Hi.’ Keith watched Hunk drag his feet into the kitchen, clearly having just woken up, and over to the sink for a glass of water. He waited for Hunk to leave, but he didn’t. Stayed at the sink, pretending to tidy something that was already neat, whistling. Whistling. Keith lost his appetite.

‘Sooo…’ Hunk started and Keith stood up. It was too late - early? - for whatever he was about to say, ‘Wait, Keith please don’t go!’ Keith stopped, half empty bowl in his hand, like a deer in the headlights. Hunk was facing him now, eyes wide and clearly tense. Keith screwed his face up, dropped the bowl on the table, and sat back down.

‘What?’

Hunk fidgeted with his hands, clearly not expecting him to stay. The sight of it nearly made Keith stand again, if only to slap his hands down. ‘So, um, I was just thinking, you know? I know that whole,’ he gestured vaguely behind him, ‘Thing, the bug thing, it must’ve been weird for you. Like, super weird. I get that, and I totally get why you’ve been, uhh… Keeping to yourself, since then, right? I get it. And it’s totally none of my business, right?’ He laughed, but it was far too tense, fingers reaching up to pull at his collar even though it was not warm in the kitchen at all. ‘But, fuck man. I don’t know, obviously, what went down with you two, and if I’m overstepping please feel free to beat my ass. Or maybe don’t actually, because you definitely could. It’s just that, you know, Lance is tearing himself apart here.’

Keith laid a hand on the table to steady himself. Lance was tearing himself apart? What did he have to tear himself apart over? He wasn't the one who'd humiliated himself over and over. In front of the team, in front of an entire planet, in front of the boy he's been pining over for months on end. Why the fuck was he upset?

‘Why?’

The other boy shrugged, hands coming up in a surrender over his chest, ‘I don’t know man, like I said, I don’t know what exactly went down, he won’t say. But he, uh, he did mention that before it, that um. You and him were, Jesus Christ-’

‘That we were fucking?’

It was hard to see in the blue light, but Hunk flushed deeply, ‘Yeah, uh, that.’ He cleared his throat, but his words were just as unsteady, ‘And I don’t know if that’s anything to do with it, but he’s like… He’s not doing great. And once again, obviously, not my business, but it might be one day, you know? If we can’t, like, form Voltron because of this,’ he mashed his fingers together, ‘Weirdness. And he’s my friend, you know? I don’t want him upset. Whatever he did to like, I don’t know, make you go all ghosting, I know he’s sorry. God, I’ve heard it enough. Just let him tell you, I guess. Sorry. Thanks. Uh, sleep well.’ 

Hunk darted out of the kitchen, leaving Keith alone with a half empty bowl of goo and a hole in his head. 

All Lance had done was play along to his poison induced delusions. Keith knew this, and he’d thought Lance knew it too. But whatever he’d told Hunk, it wasn’t that. He had, however, told Hunk about the rest, which admittedly made him feel better about telling Shiro, beneath the layer of embarrassment. So what the hell did he have to be sorry about? Letting Keith make a fool of himself? Hmm, maybe.

Voltron was another thing he hadn’t given much thought. It was bad enough when they started, after the training room but before the observation deck. Even if they’d formed it then, they were lucky to only need it for a short while, and it was already crumbling towards the end. Things had been quiet recently, but they wouldn’t stay that way. If they needed it now, could they do it? Keith wasn’t sure. Jigsaws slotted into place. That was why Shiro had been drawing him out. For Voltron. All his talk of war and weakness, and here he was, letting his weakness fuck up the war, fuck up the team. 

Keith left the kitchen, tossing his bowl into the sink and barely stopping to rinse it, and padded down the now familiar halls, passing his own room and stopping at the one six doors down. Rip the band-aid off, Kogane. Get in there, lie, deny, and make things normal. He had a ready made excuse there for the taking. This would only be as weird as he made it.

Lie, deny, normal. Easy enough on paper. His hand stilted before he drew the courage to knock. No answer, Should he wait until morning? No, he’d lose his nerve, and it wasn’t like he could sleep now anyway. He knocked again, hard enough to shake the metal door in his frame.

‘M’sleeping,’ came the muffled call from inside. He could picture Lance, eye mask on, curled up under a dozen blankets, probably with some Altean gunk on his face, clear as day. Keith knocked again.

‘It’s me,’ he said, ‘Can we talk?’

Silence. Shuffling. Footsteps, padding softly towards him. A soft hiss as the door whizzed open. Lance, inches away from him. No gunk on his face, mask clinging loosely to his head, face somewhere dead between shock and scorn. Just him, tired and yawning into his fist, still beautiful enough to make warmth bloom in his stomach, still close enough to follow it down with ice. There was a split second where Keith thought seriously about running again. He’d overshot his willingness to do this. He had forgotten he would have to look at Lance.

And Lance looked at him. He was probably a mess, hair still damp from his post-training shower, fully clothed in the middle of the night, blatantly sleepless and hopped up on a determination that was fading fast. Lance took him in, up and down, and jerked his head towards the room.

‘Come in.’

Chapter Text

Lance let Keith follow him into his bedroom, flinging himself down on the bed in the perfect imitation of definitely-not-freaking-out, with his arms folded and legs askew, and watched the red paladin pace. Awkwardness looked strange on Keith, made his limbs hang oddly off his body like they couldn’t remember how to fit. He clenched and flexed his fingers out, not looking Lance in the face. Lance blinked the last remnants of sleep out of his brain and tried to appear calm. Here Keith was, come to let him down easy. As easy as Keith ever handled interpersonal nuance - about as easy as pulling teeth. He watched the other man’s eyes flick around his room; over his day clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, the collection of pretty rocks from the planets they’d visited atop the dresser, to the nightstand, the bed, then quickly away. Lance dropped his stare to avoid meeting it. Keith took a deep breath, opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.

‘So,’ he started, ‘I, um…’ 

Lance fought the urge to roll his eyes, ‘Just say it.’

‘…I’ve been avoiding you.’

He laughed, ‘Really?’ He heard his own venom and Keith winced, curled into himself. Regret flooded him, swiftly followed by equal indignation, then shame. Talking was never Keith’s strong suit, but Lance deserved honesty. Didn’t he? ‘Hadn’t noticed.’

Keith wrung his hands on the spot, winding his fingertips around the cuff of his glove, ‘And I’m sorry.’ 

Maybe he was still asleep. Sorry? Lance swallowed, cleared his throat, and coughed into his hand, waving it off like he wasn’t burning alive, ‘S’fine. Honestly I, uh, kind of expected it.’ 

‘It’s not fine,’ Keith ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it, ‘You…’ Whatever that sentence was, he decided against it, frowning hard, ‘It was-’  And again. Under any other circumstances, watching Keith flounder like this would be cute - with his nose all wrinkled up and his eyebrows working overtime - but Lance just wished he’d get it over with. He whipped around, kicked the door, and swore, shaking out his foot, now definitely bruised. ‘Fuck! Why is this so hard?’

‘Keith, it’s fine,’

‘It’s not fucking fine!’

Lance let him gather himself in silence, breathe deeply, and speak one word at a time like he wasn’t quite sure he was using them right.

‘The way I acted put you in a bad position, venom or no venom. It wasn’t fair that you had to deal with me, I know you never wanted to, and I’m sorry for that.’ His eyes were shut tight and his knuckles were white, nails digging into his palms, ‘Yeah it was humiliating but I humiliated myself, not you. I thought you’d make fun of me and then we could laugh it off. But you didn’t, you were just - fucking hell - you were just…good. And that made it even worse so I avoided you, and I’m sorry for that too.’ 

Lance scoffed. ‘Jesus, tell me how you really feel,’

His eyes opened, dark eyebrows upturned in confusion, ‘What?’

Frustration of a week of being ignored bubbled up and the bite crept back into his words. This was how Keith saw him, after everything. One big embarrassment. ‘Even when it’s fake, liking me is just so humiliating for you, huh. I’m such an asshole that you’re shocked I didn’t try to fry your brain?’ He flopped back against the wall, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over his chest, ‘Gee thanks buddy, great talk.’

‘What?’ Keith’s upper lip curled back and his frown deepened, ‘No you idiot, I’m not embarrassed about liking- ugh,’ Lance’s right eye twitched as Keith tugged at his hair again. ‘What’s humiliating is hanging off you like a child for days on end, dependent on you for everything, incapable of leaving you alone for one hour when I could see with my eyes you didn’t want me.’

Here we go. Big bad lone wolf can’t bear to need some human companionship for three days. This time he didn’t fight the urge, rolling his eyes so hard they hurt, ‘When did I ever say I didn’t-’

Keith cut him off, voice rising in anger, ‘Humiliating is screaming and crying and begging you to love me because I felt like I would die without it, watching my stupid mouth ignore my even stupider brain at every turn because I knew I was pushing you but I just couldn’t stop because I needed you like a kick in the head,’ He was yelling now, ‘Spending every hour of every goddamn day loading a gun and telling you exactly where to shoot me, that’s fucking humiliating, Lance!’

A splinter of ice lodged in the center of his chest. It had been eating at him, ever since he heard it, whether the venom was really capable of twisting up his memories like that, completely making things up, or if it simply put the truth through a filter. He thought back to the first night on Eruk, in the dim neon blue of their shared room, the bed too low to the floor, and Keith spilling his secrets like water out to Lance, deaf to all his attempts to mop it up. Hoping against hope that maybe that had been another lie from the beetle, just so he could stop sitting in the guilt of hearing it. That it was able to spend the deepest corner of Keith’s heart to buy Lance’s belief. One real thing of the whole three days - someone had hurt him, and he thought Lance might do it too. A loaded gun, just knowing it. Stupid, oblivious, beautiful fucking idiot. After everything he’d done, everything he’d said to Keith. He really couldn’t tell, could he? It was unthinkable to him and it always would be. Get it over with. Lance took a deep breath and looked away.

‘I don’t think I can do this anymore,’ he waved his hand loosely between them, ‘This.’

Keith caught and his face flickered. Then he straightened, pushed his hands down, forced himself to nod. ‘That’s fine. I understand. I… I made it weird.’

‘No, shit, no you- You didn’t. It’s, it’s my fault.’ Lance winced, pushed himself off the bed, stepped closer. Keith stepped back. He could see the walls growing brick by brick. Even now, Lance wanted to hold him. Push his hair back and comfort him when he could see the storm coming. Feel him go boneless and relax for once in his goddam life the way he had in Lance’s arms in the hallway, in the room, at the window-

‘What, “it’s not you it’s me”?’ Keith hissed, hackles coming up and damp hair falling into his eyes. Lance ignored the flare in his gut. This wasn’t a breakup. There was nothing to break but his own stupid heart. 

Lance reached up to rub the back of his neck, around to his eyes, ‘But it is me, Keith. You didn’t do anything wrong, you couldn’t control it.’ Por favor no preguntarme algo mas. Por favor no hacerme decirlo. ‘I was the one who…’

Keith huffed, folding his arms and turning his face away, ‘Wasn’t your fault I made you my sick nurse-’ 

‘And I couldn’t be your fucking nurse because I was too busy dying!’ he burst, hands splayed out wide, ‘Every second you were under, every hug, every kiss, every kind little word, all of it. It was fucking torture, Keith.’

Keith reeled back, face twisted with shock and open hurt. Shit, shit shit shit. Bad way to say it. He stumbled away from Lance, shoulders hunching over his spine as his fingers scrambled for the door pad, voice thick and breaking over the words, ‘I said I’m sorry. I’ll just go, sorry I woke y-’

‘No, shit- Keith don’t go. I didn’t mean it like that,’ Lance scrambled, slamming his fingers over the door pad, over Keith’s hovering before it, then yanked his hand away. Keith stilled but didn’t turn back to him, facing the wall as Lance backed off and spoke to the back of his head. ‘...Looking after you, spending time with you, taking care of you when you need it, need m- that was, it was fine. More than fine.’ Oh god, his brain realized half a second after his mouth opened, he was going to say it, ‘But it was torture because I - Santo Cristo en cielo - you didn’t want it, and I did. Do.’ Keith didn’t speak, didn’t move, but he didn’t leave or whirl around to punch him either so Lance kept talking, ‘You. Me and you. For real, for, for a while now. I wasn't going to tell you, but it- It was fucking hard to have you like that when it was all just… like, some drug or whatever. Because it was so clearly not you, and I wanted it to be you, the real you really choosing it. And I know it’s stupid, I know that’s not what this is or what it ever has been, but fuck man. I tried to stop, tried so hard for so long because when I’m not in love with you you can really piss me off but apparently not enough to not still love you and it’s all a fucking mess.’ 

He was openly rambling now but couldn’t bring himself to shut the hell up, hands flailing as he gestured to nothing. All the wriggling, shameful things he kept down, with a single crack in the dam all came tumbling out. Keith still wouldn’t face him, frozen in place, ‘And it was fine before when the lines were clear, you know, like yeah I wanted more but I knew it wouldn’t happen and honestly, I really was fine with that, fine with just doing what we were doing because it was still something and it was good, right? Maybe I’m still out of line for that though, and I’m sorry. But then the bug and the lines got blurry, and we were just like, kissing and touching and saying all this stuff in all these new ways and it was too close, too much for me and I’m sorry. Because I know how awful it was for you, how scared you were and how much I knew it wasn’t you, but there were some points where I just… fuck. I can't do it now, can’t go back to casual. I don’t feel casual about you anymore and I don’t think I can pretend to. But I’ll get over it,’

‘Lance,’ Keith’s hand floated in midair, inches from the doorpad. Lance wished he could see his face, ‘Do you have feelings for me?’

‘I’ll get over it. Prometo, I will,’ Lance assured him, ‘I just think we need to go back to being, I don’t know, teammates.’ Keith’s fingers dropped from the door and Lance started backing away, bracing himself for a black eye, ‘At least until the feelings go away, and I get over it. You. Get over you, that is. I will, I’m… I’m really sorry.’ 

He said to the door, ‘Don’t.’

‘What?’

Keith turned around. Every cell in Lance’s body froze, eyes wide and flitting around like birds. Keith shook his head, expression unreadable and shifting every second. A little manic, a little scared. He stepped forward. Lance stepped back. Two kings, last on the chessboard, dancing around each other. Breathe, McClain, breathe. Keith tried to reach out into the space between them and Lance let him hang there, still shaking his head, ‘Don’t get over it- me. Don’t get over me. Please,’

Lance looked at him like he was actively on fire. Was this, like, doing something for him? A humiliation to match his own with no insect to absolve it. The most poetically, pathetically just ending to this whole bullshit rivalry. Keith won and he’s loving it. He’d prefer the black eye, ‘That’s not fair-’

‘You want to know why it was so bad?’ Keith crossed the chessboard in two steps and pulled Lance in by the lapels of his robe, but Lance held him back with both hands at his shoulders, keeping them inches, miles apart. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest, to stop completely, to explode and leave him oozing out on the floor. Keith pulled and Lance pushed and they locked into a stalemate, ‘Come on, Lance. You’re smart, you know why.’

‘Keith,’ his voice was so quiet he barely heard it, ‘Don’t say it unless you mean it. That’s cruel.’

The red paladin blinked at him, face twisting up again. Lance shook his head and Keith’s grip on his clothes tightened, ‘I mean it, I meant it. How was that not clear- everything I told you. Why else would I burn through it so quick, why else would I keep waking up, why-’

Lance wriggled, trying to create some space between them before Keith could feel the heat rolling off Lance’s face, ‘There could be a bunch of reasons-’

‘There’s not.’ Keith’s hold on him was trembling but firm, his teeth gritted close, ‘Asking for something is only hard if you want it.’

Lance’s brain was running to fast to process it, ‘You just spent five minutes telling me why it was embarrassing,’

Keith blinked some more, mouth falling open and feet following Lance as he shuffled, matching his step like waltzers, ‘I thought you knew, I thought you could tell.’ It was too much. Keith was humiliated, he didn’t want to talk to Lance and Lance just poured his heart out and no, now he did, now Keith wanted him close until he wanted him gone again. It was ass o clock at night and he hadn’t slept right in days and his brain couldn’t take any more of this mess. Keith held him tighter, shaking him a little, ‘Lance, just think-’

The blue paladin dug his fingers into Keith’s wrists until he let go, shoving him off and freeing himself, sending Keith hurtling backwards, nearly falling over, ‘You thought I could tell?’ he yelled, voice rising embarrassingly and unmasculinely high, ‘I was the one telling you I missed you, I wanted you, all this shit the whole time. You said outright not to listen, that it was all bullshit and you’d say anything!’

‘I did say anything, and I didn’t want you to listen because it wasn’t bullshit and I didn’t want you to know! I was scared!’ Keith yelled back. Lance stared at him, waiting for an explanation. Keith just shrugged as if he’d given a full, satisfactory answer. Lance strangled the air and groaned. Idiot boy.

‘Of what?’

‘Of-’ Keith’s eyes had dropped to the floor now, hand gripping tight into his own arms like he could shrink himself so small nobody would notice him go, ‘Of how weak it makes me,’ he said quietly. Lance staggered back as if he’d hit him but Keith didn't stop, head still shaking, growing louder as he spoke, ‘Of you knowing exactly how fucking weak you make me, of you throwing it back in my face because I was never supposed to feel this way and I never have before and I don’t know what to do. Of, of, of the day you wake up and you want someone better; someone who knows how to have a functional fucking relationship, who doesn’t piss you off all the time and who you actually want rather than just being stuck with. Of when we go back to Earth and you go home and realize that you don’t need to settle for me, that the best days of your life are still to come and mine aren’t because nobody, fucking nobody, cares if I make it back!’ 

He was yelling now, face turned up to stare Lance down as he took the gun back and flipped the safety off. Lance remembered the window on Eruk, Keith taking his hand cautiously, and saying he thought it was possible - statistically possible, let alone physically - that Lance would ever get tired of him. As if he hadn’t been the fucking headliner onstage in Lance’s head since the very first flight simulator, ‘Even if, even, and if something ever happened to you - when you got hit in Blue and I couldn’t hear you. I thought you were dead, I thought I might just die too and you didn’t give a shit! We need you Lance - I need you here, alive, and if anything happened to you I don’t think I could handle it, which makes me a liability. Loving you like this is a weakness and even if you don’t exploit it, someone else might.’

Lance was still for so long he wondered if his body still worked. Keith turned back to the wall and let his forehead rest against the cool metal, shielding his face from view with his fists. He checked his fingers, working, and his toes, also working. Experimental shuffles along the floor, Lance approached him like a wild animal, ready for him to bite or bolt at any moment. He came up to Keith’s side, fingers ghosting at the ends of his hair, pulling it back to look under his ear, right where, only days ago, there had been a dark red spot marring his skin, clouding his mind.

Keith didn't move an inch, pressing his forehead to the wall, his face hidden by his fists against the metal and voice flat, ‘Are you looking for the fucking bug?’ He didn’t sound pleased about it.

Lance dropped his hand, cheeks somehow still warming, ‘I had to be sure.’

‘It’s gone,’ he snapped.

His pulse skipped, ‘I know,’ his head swam, ‘I know.’ Loving you like this.

How weak you make me.

Loving you.

Keith made a noise that was probably meant to be a laugh. It was far too empty, ‘I get it,’ he scoffed, ‘I wouldn’t have believed you either.’

Lance’s hand hovered around Keith, wanting to touch him, to reach out, unsure if it was wise. He settled for running his fingers lighting up and down the back of Keith’s t-shirt, barely brushing the skin beneath.

‘I care,’ he said quietly, ‘That you come back. I know it’s not the same but I really, really care that you make it home.’ Keith didn’t answer him, but his fists unclenched, going flat and cupping around his face, still hiding from Lance. In response, he lay his hand between Keith’s shoulder blades, fingertips laid softly against the back of his neck, tickling the ends of his hair. ‘Why are you so convinced that I’ll hurt you?’

‘I dunno,’ he muttered, pulling himself up against the wall as if he could melt into it, ‘You wouldn’t mean to, but, but even if you want me now you might, I don’t know, change your mind. I’ve never- I don’t know how to do any of this. People. Feelings. I’m bad at it.’

Lance hummed, stroking his hand in circles across Keith’s shoulders, leaning against the wall to see the parts of his face not covered by his hands, ‘How much do you remember?’

Keith groaned, ‘Enough,’ and sighed, ‘Most of it, I think. But it’s hazy. Like a really vivid dream.’

Lance thought of blue light and strange fish. Keith’s hand in his, his heart open and small, ‘Do you remember after the party, what I said to you?’ 

He sighed again, ‘You couldn’t exactly reject me in that state-’

‘Well now I can,’ Keith tensed, and he smoothed his hand down the other man’s spine, curled it around his waist, and pulled in closer until he had Keith pressed into his chest, murmuring into his hair, hoping his heart wasn’t pounding hard enough against his back for Keith to feel it, ‘But I won’t. I don’t want to. And I stand by what I said. You just… do it for me, you always have. Drive me fucking crazy,’ Keith chuckled, and it felt like flying. 

He dipped his chin into the crook of Keith’s neck as the other’s hands fell from his face, pressing flat against the wall, ‘Could never get you out of my head, even before I knew why. I would’ve done anything, said anything, just to make you look at me. Sure you piss me off sometimes, I piss you off too, usually on purpose,’ Another laugh, brighter this time, and Lance was fucking invincible. Zarkon should try him now, he wouldn’t even need a weapon when he had Keith - the real Keith - in his arms, tension seeping out of his spine, laughing and leaning back into his touch. Lance wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life, wanted it enough to be brave, ‘But I don’t think it makes me weak. You make me want to fight better, fly better, be better. And besides, I can never stay pissed off at you. I… I love you too much.’

Keith’s laughter petered out, and his head tipped back against Lance’s shoulder, looking back at him in a way that couldn’t be good for his neck. His voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the new and fragile thing between them, ‘Do you mean it?’ 

When he swallowed the lump in his throat, Lance’s own voice was just as quiet, ‘Yeah. I do.’ 

‘...I do too.’ Both hands slipped from the wall to wrap around his own, squeeze them, ‘I love you. For real.’

Lance couldn’t fight the sigh of relief, ‘Thank god.’ Keith laughed again, and Lance just wrapped his arms tighter around him, taking Keith’s weight against his chest. Keith squeezed his hands again and pulled away. Lance was reluctant but let him go, just enough for the red paladin to turn in his arms and snake his arms around Lance’s neck, tip his head up to brush the tips of their noses together.

‘Hi,’ he said, faint pink dusting the apples of his pale cheeks. It reminded him of when Keith was under, but instead of the glaze his eyes were bright and clear, a little unsure. His own, so close, so open. Lance dipped down to press his forehead against Keith’s.

‘Hey,’ he said, flicking his stare down to Keith’s mouth, then back up to his eyes, locked on him, ‘You, uh,’ he could feel Keith’s breath on his face, ‘You come here often?’

A huff of air and a flash of white teeth. Keith pulled Lance closer to him, ‘I can if you want me to.’ Lance didn’t care to fight the grin that pulled his face up, holding Keith so tight they may as well merge into one.

‘God yes,’ he breathed. If it sounded desperate Keith didn’t seem to mind, grinning just as big as he was, ‘I can’t believe we were so stupid, we could have done this ages ago.’

‘I can,’ Keith hummed, ‘But we’re doing it now.’ His hands slipped down to cup Lance’s cheeks, leaning up to kiss him softly. Lance met him, still hesitant, not entirely certain he wasn’t dreaming and more than a little terrified that he could wake up at any second. 

But then Keith’s lips were solid and warm on his, and the moment held. His hands slipped into Lance’s hair, nails brushing against his scalp, curling around the strands just too short to tug at. Lance’s hands moved, one planting firmly between his shoulder blades and the other wrapping around his waist to hold him close. 

‘Is it better like this?’ he pulled back to ask, eyes dark and hooded.

Lance nodded, mind still catching up to where they were. Keith loved him. Keith was kissing him. For real, ‘So much better.’

Keith tilted his jaw, moved against him, brushed his tongue along the ridge of Lance’s top lip before deepening the kiss. Lance let him take the lead, with Keith licking into his mouth, stopping to bite at his bottom lip and soothe the sting over with gentle kisses right before it hurt, push his body up and into Lance’s until they stumbled a few steps back and Lance’s calves hit the edge of the bed. 

‘I missed you,’ Keith’s lips travelled from his mouth across his cheek, down his jaw and to his neck, kissing and sucking gently over his jugular, Lance putting all his energy into remembering to breathe and keeping his blood where it belonged. They should probably talk more about this, right? Should they talk more? Keith brushed his teeth over the sensitive skin, ‘Missed you so fucking much. I want, need you.’

There went that plan. And all of his blood. ‘You’ve got me.’

Down a little more, and Keith was sinking his teeth into the junction of neck and clavicle. Lance bit down on a lip to stifle the noise he made when Keith’s lips soothed over the reddening mark, hands roaming down to fist into his robe, run over his chest, down his arms, back up to his face. Then he was pulling away, the loss of contact keen where his skin was still wet with spit, just enough to look at him. When Lance forced his eyes back open Keith looked hesitant, chewing down on his lip, a little crease between his brows that Lance reached up to smooth his thumb over, hunger lacing his stare.

‘...How would you feel about switching?’

It took longer than it should have to sink in. Lance blinked, ‘W-what, what, you mean,’ he stuttered, ‘You mean like, like me, instead? And you… Are you sure?’ Keith’s mouth scrunched up into a small smile and he nodded shyly, ‘I don’t want you to feel like, you know, just because we said it that you have to, like, do anyth-’

‘Lance,’ Keith’s hold on his cheeks grew firmer, but there was nothing hard when he spoke, ‘It doesn’t have to be, but it can. And I want it with you,’ he leaned in so close Lance’s eyes crossed a bit to look at him, ‘I trust you.’

He took back what he thought earlier. Zarkon needed to die, like, five minutes ago because if anything took him from Keith’s touch right now he might just collapse.

‘Yeah,’ It felt like he was nodding, but he didn’t remember deciding to do so, ‘Yeah okay, that, that sounds good to me.’

Keith nodded too, smile getting bolder, teeth just peeking through reddened, swollen lips. And fuck, if he wasn’t in love before, ‘Good.’

Lance sat down on the bed, pulling Keith gently into his lap, and kissed him again. It was slow, the lazy movement of lips and tongue for once without the rush. He slipped his hands under the back of Keith’s shirt, relishing the slight hitch of his breath into Lance’s mouth when he grazed the other boy’s skin. His fingertips mapped the planes of Keith’s toned back, along the slight dips between muscles, as Keith fumbled for the belt of his robe, reaching up to push it down to his elbows and grip hard on Lance’s bare shoulders. Keith ground down into Lance’s lap, the blue paladin’s hands flying to his hips to keep the pressure and friction against the rapidly growing bulge in his boxers, and his nails dug hard into Lance’s shoulders when he hissed. 

‘Fuck,’ he mouthed back down Lance’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe and sucking at the sensitive skin beneath it, ‘You feel big.’ Another cant of his hips down against Lance and a groan tore through his throat.

Jesus Christ. Keith was going to kill him. 

He shook his head just hard enough to make it capable of thinking, squeezing Keith’s ass through his jeans - these fucking jeans - and running his hand up Keith’s thigh.

‘Come on, querido,’ he hummed, ‘Let me get these off you.’

Keith rolled off his and stretched out on his back, toeing off his shoes before they hit Lance’s duvet and fumbling with his own zipper. Lance crawled over him, pulling at the waistband of the jeans and tugging them down his legs where he could kick them off before lifting Keith’s shirt up and over his head. Spread out on the bed below him, pale skin stark against the darkness of his room, Lance was struck all over again by the force of his adoration. He wanted to look at Keith forever. He wanted to be the only one who could, the only one Keith let see him like this, touch him like this, love him like it. He wanted Keith to close his eyes and fall and he wanted to catch him. This, Lance decided, was going to be the best night of Keith’s life. By space-God he was going to make sure of it. Keith squirmed under his eyes, reaching up to tug Lance’s robe off him but he was fixed, eyes raking over the smooth expanse of bare, soft skin, all for him.

‘You’re staring,’ he complained. Lanced nodded.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Keith snorted, and Lance snapped his eyes back up to his face, nose wrinkling and cheeks flushing, ‘You are.’

Keith’s eye met his, rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, ‘I think you’re beautiful too,’ he said plainly, putting his huff back on, ‘Now stop being gay and kiss me again.’ 

Lance grinned, ‘That’s even gayer,’

‘Do you care?’ Keith propped himself up on his elbows, lips fixed in a coy smirk, ‘Just do it.’

When their lips met again all the slowness was gone, bleeding into desperation as Keith pulled Lance down on top of him, with only one elbow planted on the mattress keeping him from crushing the red paladin completely. His hands were a flurry across Lance, in his hair, around his neck, along his chest, pulling the robe off him until he helped, shrugging it off with his sleep vest and tossing it on the floor until they were both clad in just their underwear, hot skin pressing up against each other, chasing the pressure and friction of contact. Keith’s legs reached up to wrap around Lance’s waist and pull their hips flush together.

‘Shit,’ he groaned as Keith tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, ‘You’re not messing around, are you?’

Keith hummed, ‘Been thinking about it for too long. Don’t want to wait any more.’ His ankles tightened together, pulling his hips up against Lance’s to rub their erections together through the thin layers of fabric, sending fireworks down to Lance’s toes, ‘Want you.’

Lance’s free hand reached down to Keith’s waistband, slipping his fingertips under the elastic, ‘You’ve got me, baby,’ he murmured, tugging at his boxes until Keith got the message, untangled his legs and pushed them off him until he was bare, Lance’s hand ghosting over him. ‘Can I take care of you?’ 

Sparse hairs rose in shivering goosebumps where Lance’s touch breezed over them, too light to feel like contact, but so, so close. Keith let out a breathy gasp, his lower back arching off the mattress when Lance skimmed over his cock, already hard and straining up against his abdomen, translucent drops of precome beading at his swollen head.

‘Yes,’ it came out breathy, Keith’s eyes shut tight as he nodded, fingers digging into the meat of Lance’s shoulders, ‘Just stop fucking teasing.’

Lance dipped down to kiss him again, wrapping his fingers around the base of Keith and dragging slowly upwards, swallowing the sounds Keith spilled into his mouth, ‘Whatever you want, baby.’ His thumb pressed down over the slit, spreading slick precome around him and Keith wriggled, legs drawing up the mattress to buck up into Lance’s hand, ‘Anything you want. You just gotta tell me.’ He pumped his hand up and down, slowly, gentle enough to keep Keith squirming and clutching at him.

‘Start,’ he gasped, ‘Where’s, where’s the-?’

‘I’ll get it,’ Lance kissed him again before letting go, pushing up just enough to fumble around the nightstand as Keith crawled up him like a spider, kissing at his neck and making it hard to focus on what he was doing. When his fingers closed around the plastic bottle he slammed the drawer shut and shuffled back down over Keith, lowering him back down against the bed, feeling the pressure in his own cock where it pushed against Keith’s ass and hissing.

‘Pass me that,’ he pointed at one of the pillows, tapping Keith’s hip to get him up and slide the pillow under his lower back and easing him back down.

He manoeuvred himself towards Keith’s side, close enough to lean over and kiss him lazily, tongues dancing between their teeth, but with easy enough access to see what he was doing as he uncapped the bottle, spreading a generous layer over his fingers and rubbing it around to warm it up. His other hand came to spread Keith’s legs apart as he caressed the red paladin’s hip, breaking their kiss to whisper to him.

‘I’ll go slow,’ Keith nodded, ‘You just tell me how it feels.’

‘Okay,’ he said, breath hitching when Lance’s fingers met the puckered skin around his hole, not yet pushing in, just rubbing lightly across it and waiting for him to relax, ‘Can you kiss me?’

His hands cupped Lance’s face to pull him down, and Lance kept it slow, forcing his mind into his hands and firmly away from his own dick, hard as it was (ha-ha) with Keith warm and willing and extremely naked beneath his hands. But the tiny corner of his brain still online needed to focus. He had a job to do. The tip of his middle finger pushed gently against the ring of muscle, withdrew, and came back again. He did this a few times, until Keith stopped clenching at the anticipation of intrusion, and Lance slowly, finally, pressed inside him. 

Keith gasped and he stopped, letting the first joint of his finger rest still until he relaxed again, then started to push in, millimeter by millimeter, until he was in up to the knuckle. 

‘How’s that?’

‘S’fine,’ Keith was panting, fingers tight in Lance’s hair, ‘Move it.’

Lance moved slowly, back and forth, barely dragging his finger out of Keith, until his body got used to the sensation, switching between kissing him and watching his face for signs of pain or pleasure. Keith’s eyes were closed, a small furrow in his brow, but his breathing was deep and even, so Lance dragged his finger further out, bit by bit, before pushing back in, punching a small sigh out of him that Lance drank down when he kissed him. He kept going, eventually teasing a second finger around Keith’s rim, not yet adding it in, just drawing it around the muscle as he pumped lazily in and out. 

‘Lance,’ Keith’s teeth were gritted, ‘Just put it in.’

‘Relax first,’ he kissed him again, sweet and easy, ‘Breathe, baby. I won’t let it hurt.’ Keith kissed him harder, breathing deep through his nose, and his body unclenched in pieces. The second finger went in easier than the first, a little hiss falling from Keith’s lips at the initial stretch, petering off into a groan when Lance’s fingers curled inside him. He sounded different here, Lance realized, than when he was on top. Breathier, a little higher, with the odd whimper when his fingers brushed against the swollen edge of flesh, and Lance couldn’t wait to hear all the other sounds he was yet to draw from him. He kept his pace steady, kept it slow, placing his other hand on Keith’s lower stomach when he started to twitch too hard.

‘You don’t need to be this slow,’ he complained, ‘I can take it.’

‘Well,’ Lance hummed, ‘It’s been over a year,’

‘So?’

‘So you know what they say,’ Lance kept fingering him as he spoke, careful to avoid contact with his prostate. Keith’s face was twisted in a grumpy frown, tilted up at Lance, ‘After a year you’re a virgin again.’

His scowl deepened, ‘That is not a thing.’

‘It totally is,’ Lance kissed him on the cheek, sinking two fingers down to the knuckle, the hitch of his breath lodging straight in Lance’s groin, ‘Everyone knows that. Slate’s wiped clean.’

‘Well I fucked you two weeks ago, so I’m still not a virgin.’

‘That’s different,’ he tsked, mouthing down to Keith’s neck, grinning as he tipped his jaw back in spite of his sulking, ‘You’re a bottom virgin dude, so I’m going slow.’

‘Shut up,’ he huffed, ‘And don’t call me dude with your hand up my ass.’

‘What,’ Lance chuckled, ‘This hand?’ A deliberate curl of his fingers sent Keith’s hips jerking off the mattress, a broken moan tearing out of his throat as his hands scrambled around Lance’s neck, ‘Didn’t think you minded, bro.’ 

‘Fuck- fuck you,’ he gasped. Lance peppered kisses across his cheeks, his jaw, picking up the pace of his wrist, ‘Do that again.’

‘Yeah?’ He pressed his fingers over the same spot, dragging them across it as he reached out, teased in the third finger, and pushed back in, curling them against his prostate. Keith canted his hips up and back toward Lance’s wrist, dug his nails hard enough into Lance's shoulders to leave little crescent bruises, throwing his head back against the pillow, the long expanse of his neck, tragically unmarked, bright against the night, Lance dipped his head down, over the pale blue vein running down his throat, and closed his lips over it, the edge of teeth drawing another gasp from Keith, ‘Tell me how it feels, baby.’

‘S’good, feels good,’ Keith whined, each word taking brain power he barely had, ‘Want you - shit, there, Lance right there - talk to me. Like, like hearing you.’ 

The strain in his underwear was near agonizing, every tiny noise Keith made running straight to his untouched dick, and Lance prayed he was going to last long enough to actually get him off. He spread his fingers inside Keith, hand gripping at his hip to keep him from moving too much, torn between savouring the sight, sound, and feel of the boy beneath him, and trying to think of various unsexy things so he didn’t come before he actually got to fuck him. Pleasure won out, and he bent low over Keith's ear, kissing at the lobe and murmuring to him.

‘Te ves tan hermoso como este, mi amor,’ Keith moaned again when Lance hooked around his rim, grabbing at every place he could reach and hold Lance closer to him as three fingers dragged in and out, ‘Tan bonito, solo quiero tenerte todo por mi. Quieres ser mío, amor? Ya soy tuyo, sabes que soy tuyo. Si no sabes te lo digo. Mi cuerpo, mi corazón, mi alma, todo es tuyo. It’s all yours, baby,’ His fingers moved with no resistance, Keith’s walls loose and pliant around him. Eagerness battled hesitation as he slowed down, ignoring Keith’s protestations, ‘Do you think you’re ready?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded sharply, ‘Yes, I’m ready, I’m ready.’ He twitched when Lance pulled his fingers out, breathing hard against Lance’s mouth as he reached back for the lube, keeping his fingertips dancing around Keith’s ass until he flipped the cap over before leaning back, ‘Wait,’

‘Hm?’ Lance stilled, sat back from him and Keith propped up on his elbows, face and chest flushed red, panting hair messed into a bird’s nest, lips swollen, looking wrecked already. Lance wanted to take the sight of him like a picture and keep it forever. 

‘I want to do it,’ Keith looked down at the bottle in Lance’s hand, then down to the strain in his boxers, the little wet patch spreading out where he was leaking ‘Take them off, I want to touch you first.’ He pushed himself up to sit, snatching the lube from Lance’s hand as he laughed, shook his head, and shucked off his underwear, sitting back on his ankles, freed dick red and lifting up to his stomach. 

‘Look at you,’ Keith purred, squeezing out a dollop of lube on his palm and crawling over to Lance, ‘Been so focused on me, you must be aching,’

Lance jerked forward when Keith’s slick, cold hand wrapped around him, lurching his head to rest on Keith’s shoulder as he stoked him, ‘Fuck, Keith,’

‘So good to me,’ Keith’s fingers scratched against Lance’s scalp, ‘Take such good care of me, Lance. Can’t wait to feel you.’ His hand sped up, abandoning all pretense of lubing him up and just jerking him off now, flexing his fingers around Lance’s tip before dragging them back down to squeeze at the base, pressing kisses against the side of his face, his hair, ‘I know you’re gonna fuck me so well,’

‘Keith,’ Lance groaned, twitching in his hand, ‘Won’t get to if you keep this up,’

The other boy laughed again, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go, wrinkling his nose at the lube coating his hand. Lance reached behind him to hand Keith his own shirt to wipe it on. He scowled, but cleaned himself up anyway before throwing the shirt back on the floor, ‘You got a position in mind?’

‘Back down,’ he said, crawling back over Keith as he shuffled down on the mattress, adjusting the pillow beneath his hips, ‘I want to keep an eye on you.’

‘Missionary?’ Keith rolled his eyes, ‘Sap,’

‘For you,’ Lance kissed him, easing him down until he was fully against the bed, hooking one hand under Keith's knee to spread his legs apart, ‘Absolutely. This way I get to see you, hold you, kiss you,’ He leaned in to do so, reaching down between their bodies to take himself in hand and line up against Keith, feeling the stutter of his chest against his own when his cock brushed against it. ‘Look at me.’

Keith’s eyes opened again, big and dark and beautiful staring up at him under thick black lashes. A crease of worry deepened between his eyebrows, and Lance pressed a kiss against it, ‘Yeah?’

‘I know you want this, but if you don’t like it, any of it, I need you to tell me,’ Keith frowned, ‘This isn’t make or break. I already love you, I love you so much, but this is only fun for me if it is for you as well.’

Keith hesitated, a spark of vulnerability as his gaze slipped from Lance’s, ‘I want it to be. For both of us,’

‘I know,’ he kissed his forehead, his nose, his mouth, ‘And I do too, all I want is to make you feel good. But if it doesn’t then that’s okay, we already know what does.’ Keith's hand curved around Lance’s jaw, holding him in the last kiss.

‘I love you,’ he said when they pulled apart, ankles reaching up to nudge the back of Lance’s thighs, ‘I’ll tell you. Please don’t make me beg for it.’

‘What did I say before? Anything you want,’ Lance grinned, kissed him one more time, and lined up. 

He kept his eyes on Keith as he pushed in, breaching the ring of muscle with his head and enveloping into the tight, wet heat of his body. It was like a blowjob, the same warmth, same slickness but with more pressure, gliding friction closing all around him, drawing him in deeper.

‘Ahh-’ Keith’s head jerked back, a small whine escaping his chest, and his hands grabbed harder at Lance’s head, holding his face into his neck. Lance kissed him there, sucking along his vein, as he pressed further in, even slower than with his fingers, stopping halfway inside. Keith was gasping now, tension building at the unfamiliar feeling until his body was tight with it, clenching down on Lance almost painfully. Lance pulled his face away from Keith’s skin and kissed him again.

‘Relax, baby,’ he whispered, ‘You gotta relax,’

Keith didn’t respond, but his breathing slowed like he was meditating, and the stiffness simmered down until his dick could breathe again. Kind of. His brain was somewhere else right now. Lance ran a hand up and down the inside of Keith’s thigh, hooking his hand under the knee to hoist it up and keep him open. Keith went easily, letting Lance arrange his body as he sank into it, eyes fluttering shut.

‘Bigger than I expected,’ Keith sighed. Lance tried not to let that go to his head, ‘But don’t stop. It’s good,’ He pressed in further, massaging at Keith’s hip as he went, ducking down to kiss him because if he watched his dick vanish inside Keith’s ass for any longer he was going to explode. Leaning back down drew him deeper, Keith’s hips jolting in his hand as the ridge of Lance’s head caught against his prostate, biting back a groan. With his mouth on Keith’s, Lance sank in the final inch, licking into Keith’s mouth as their hips came flush against each other. He stilled, letting Keith’s body adjust to him, letting himself adjust to being entirely surrounded, held tight inside him, legs coming up to keep him there, angling Keith’s hips up until he moaned into the kiss. His arms wound back around Lance’s neck, and his eyes blinking open, face a little fuzzy with proximity but still beautiful. Dark hair fanned out behind him on the pillow, a mess where he’d been squirming. Pink flushes over his cheeks, chest, thin sheen of sweat working along his body, neck splattered violet where Lance had bitten down.

‘It’s, he said, frowning a little as he put the words together, ‘A little strange. Not bad, just… It’s really warm. Don’t laugh!’ 

‘I’m not!’ He was, ‘Baby, I’m not laughing at you, I’m sorry. You’re right,’ he kissed up the side of Keith’s neck, rolling his hips a fraction to distract him with another hiss of pleasure, ‘It is warm. It’s hot, you’re hot.’ 

‘Mm,’ Keith’s ankles locked together at Lance’s back, grinding his hips to squeeze around him. Lance’s arms nearly buckled, ‘I like it though, feeling you. Different this way round. You can start moving.’ 

He nodded, pulling out an inch or so, and pressing back in, watching Keith’s eyes fall shut, his lips drop open. With each drag he pulled out more, still slow, and plunged back in deeper, fuller thrusts. Maybe a little slower than strictly necessary to keep himself from building up too soon, but Keith didn’t seem to notice. He was panting again, each exhale punching out like a whine, hands pulling Lance’s face closer until he could bite down at his collar, grinding his hips up to meet Lance’s movements.

‘Speed up,’ he spoke against Lance’s neck, ‘Fuck me already.’

‘Not yet,’ Lance refused.

‘What?’ he whined, ‘What happened to anything I want?’

‘I’m not fucking you,’ he brushed his lips against Keith’s ear, ‘I’m making sweet, tender love to you.’

‘Gro-ohh-ss,’ He tried to complain, cut off when Lance rolled in deeper, ‘Teasing is bad top etiquette.’ Lance bit down another laugh, pulling out farther to thrust back in and jolt Keith’s hips clean off the mattress, drown out the complaint in his throat with another moan, then a hissed ‘Asshole,’

‘Precisely, mi amor,’ he hummed, ‘Te singaré mejor que nadie. ¿Lo quieres más rápido? Dime, mi amor, dime como me deseas.’ He moved quicker, each thrust hitting deeper, Keith clutching tighter beneath him, panting out curses. Kissing his ear, his jaw, his neck, his cheek, murmuring against his sweat, ‘Dime cómo quieres que te ame, haré lo que sea por ti. Lo haré todo por ti. Te quiero, mi amor, te amo.’

‘Lance, fuck,’ Keith’s legs spasmed around his back, all his training deck strength funnelled into holding on to him, ‘Fuck, please I need more, so good, s-so good, need it, feels so good,’ He picked up the pace, fucked into Keith faster, pulling back more to thrust in harder, deeper, the squeeze of his walls around Lance overwhelming everything else and distilling it to individual points of clarity, like the heat around his cock overwrote his heart at the centre of his body, every sensation chasing down to a single zenith of pleasure. 

The dull thud of skin on skin, the wet slap of each drag smoothing the friction down into a delicious glide, the pitching, breathless whines that he was pulling out, the shifting of Keith’s walls as he writhed around, clumsily trying to meet Lance’s rhythm. He gripped hard on Keith’s hip, holding him down firmly, and sank his knees lower to angle up on each thrust, aiming towards his navel, taut and fluttering as he gasped. 

‘There, fuck Lance, ahh- there, please,’ he babbled, jerking barely stilled by Lance’s hand on him, pulling him back to kiss. Both of them were too distracted to kiss well, a messy rush of teeth and lips and tongue as Lance shifted again to keep hitting him there, the slide of his cockhead back and forth across the full length of his prostate on every thrust, constant stimulation that threatened to send Keith overboard, his legs pulling tighter, fingers grasping at Lance’s hair, his skin, biting down on anything his teeth could reach to stifle the stream of moans tumbling out of him. Lance’s stomach tugged against his erection as he moved, the friction just shy of sending him over, just enough to keep him right at the edge.

‘Keith,’ Lance groaned, ‘Fuck, you feel so good.’

‘Yeah?’

‘So fucking good,’ he barely landed a kiss on Keith’s mouth, ‘Taking me so well. Could stay here forever, could fuck you forever, so tight, shit,’ Another thrust, harder, made him cry out, ‘Sound so good for me, amor, want to hear you.’

‘Lance, fuck,’ he whined, boneless against the onslaught of pleasure swirling at his core, ‘Touch me, please, please I’m so close, need to come.’ Lance’s hand slid from his hip to wrap around his shaft, slick with dribbling precome, and Keith seized, throwing his head back so hard it lifted his chest up, ‘Fuck, yes, like that, like that. So close, please,’ he sobbed. Lance matched his touch to his thrusting, pumping his cock in time as he fucked him.

'Let go, baby,' he hissed in his ear, 'I've got you, just feel it.'

Keith thrashed around like a man possessed, clawing into Lance, kissing messily anywhere he could reach, ‘Yes, yeah, fuck please, faster, more-uh, ahh, fuck Lance-!’ 

He jerked again, hips bucking up as he came in pulsing, hot spurts over Lance's hand, clenching as he arched his spine off the bed, clamping down hard around Lance as he fucked him through the crest of his orgasm, fast approaching his own. Keith was still writhing, aftershocks wringing him out, feet still locked around Lance’s back tight enough to keep him from inside, hips still chasing the last crashes of pleasure.

‘Keith,’ he groaned, reaching back up to his thigh, ‘Need to pull out or-’

‘No,’ he gasped, barely intelligible, canting up into Lance’s slowing thrusts, ‘Come in me. Want it, please.’ Lance swore, and he clenched down again, hole fluttering and squeezing around his length, ‘Want it.’

His lips latched onto Lance’s neck, sucking hard, and his legs pulled Lance back in, encouraging him. He gave in, fucking hard and fast into Keith until the powder keg in his belly lit and stars exploded down his back, whiting out his vision, his hearing, the universe narrowing down to the heat, the pressure gripping him and he came, nerves on fire, thrusts weakening, stilted as he spilled inside of Keith. Warmth rocked down his body, enveloped him at every point Keith’s skin touched his, every pull of Keith’s limbs around him, every slide of sweat and lube and come, the taste of salt on his neck, the sound of his cries as his frayed nerves faltered to overstimulation, and he slowed, petered out, and stopped, locked inside him.

Coming drained the last of his energy, the wave crashing over him as he collapsed down on Keith, face pressed into his neck as they both caught their breath. Lance squeezed his hip, easing out slowly, kissing him softly when he hissed at the emptying. He flopped down beside him on the bed, pulling Keith into his arms, feeling his heart pound through his ribs, feeling the heave of his chest against his own.

‘You,’ his voice was ragged and husky. He carded his fingers through Keith’s hair, failing to smooth it down, ‘Was it okay?’

‘Mmm, way past okay,’ Keith hummed, exhausted, ‘Am I that good to you?’

He was too tired to laugh, only exhaling hard, ‘Yeah,’ he glanced down at Keith, tucking his hair out of his face, ‘You’re better. More practice.’ 

‘Woah,’ Keith was no better, only curling closer into him, ‘Get why you like it now. Thank you,’ he added on, quieter, ‘For… I don’t know. Everything.’

‘You don’t need to thank me,’ Lance held him, ‘I had an ulterior motive.’

‘Not just that,’ Keith shook his head, hair tickling Lance’s face, ‘That too, obviously. That was great, but more just… You make me feel safe, even when I was, you know. It was hard, but you made it easier. This too. So thank you.’

‘Thanks for letting me,’ he whispered, ‘I know it’s not your thing. But I want all of you, Keith. Even the weird, scary, squishy parts. You take care of me, I take care of you. That’s love,’ He held Keith until his body settled and he had enough breath to stand, then unwound his arms, ‘Come on pretty boy, let’s get you cleaned up.’

‘Fuck,’ Keith groaned, rolling heavily to the side before Lance planted both hands on his chest to keep him still.

‘Stop right there. You chill, I’ll do it for you,’ he eased Keith back supine, kissing him as he pushed off the bed. Keith reached to hold his face, keep him close, but Lance broke apart with one last peck, then another to his cheek, his sweaty bangs, ‘Top etiquette, remember?’

Keith chuckled but let him go. The six steps into his bathroom felt far too distant, but he endured it long enough to run a washcloth under the tap - cleaning himself up as he waited for the water to warm because he wasn’t an animal - wring it out, and pad back to Keith, a puddle of soft limbs already half asleep.

‘Leg,’ he patted Keith’s knee until he lifted it, pressing the wet cloth gently down his thighs, against his ass. Keith groaned at the contact, ‘You good? Gonna need to shower in the morning. There’s, uh, I can't get it all.’

Keith snorted, ‘It’s fine.’ he shrugged, ‘I liked it when you let me. A lot. Thought you would too.’

Lance’s mind flashed back to the last time, right before the bug. How he’d begged Keith to come inside him, how quickly he had once asked. Keith’s owlish stare fixed on him in the shower after, ‘Yeah, that do it for ya? A little possessive, Kogane.’ 

‘Mm,’ he hummed, ‘Don’t like sharing.’ Lance wiped him clean, taking his time to wash all the mess of his stomach, between his legs, wipe away the sweat from his chest, leaving a trail of kisses where he went that made Keith twitch more, ‘Back off,’ his hands came up to bat Lance’s head away, but he was smiling, ‘Sensitive.’

One more kiss over his bellybutton, ‘Love you,’ he whispered against the wet skin, fisting up the rag and tossing it into the laundry basket. Lance shimmied up the bed to snake his arms back around Keith, tugging him back into his embrace. He’d stopped twitching at every touch, but he was still boneless, jellylike in his arms. Pressing another kiss to the top of his head, he spoke softly, like his voice was just as tired as the rest of him, ‘Love you so much.’

‘Mm,’ he mumbled, ‘Love you too. Tired me out. Can I… can I stay here?’

‘Keith,’ Lance gaped, ‘What part did you miss? Obviously you’re sleeping here. Don’t you dare leave me now,’ he pulled Keith back into his chest, attacking him with kisses until Keith was yelping, pushing his hands, his face away, and settling back into his chest. Lance laughed, nudging him with his shoulder, ‘So, who do I have to thank?’

‘Huh?’ Keith looked up at him, eyelids low and heavy. Lance kissed him again, close mouthed and sweet.

‘I know you, hotshot,’ he teased, ‘Banging down my door to talk feelings? Someone talked you into it. Was it Shiro? Always liked him, Shiro. Favourite leader by far.’

Keith evidently caught up, slapping weakly at Lance’s chest, ‘No, actually,’ he pressed his cheek into Lance’ collarbone, ‘It was Hunk.’

‘Really?’ Lance hoped Hunk could feel his psychic bro link lighting up, ‘Oh, Hunk you beautiful creature, light of my life, I love you so much.’

Keith scoffed without any real annoyance, ‘Thought you loved me,’

‘I do,’ he squeezed Keith tighter, ‘So, so much. Never letting go of you,’ Keith laughed into Lance’s neck, squeezing him back so hard Lance briefly thought of the Heimlich. Jesus, this boy was strong, ‘Sorry, gotta stay here forever, you’re all mine now.’

‘Am I?’ Keith lilted, tucking his chin on Lance’s chest, digging it in a little. Lance froze, started to backpedal.

‘I mean, um, only if,’ Keith watched him fumble, one eyebrow slowly raising, ‘Only if you want to, of course, I didn’t m-mean to like, assume or anything-’

‘Calm down,’ he grinned, ‘I like the sound of that. As long as you’re all mine too.’

‘Deal,’ Lance held out his pinky. Keith rolled his eyes, but looped it anyway, ‘No more sharing. So, does that make us, like, boyfriends?’

Keith glared at him, ‘Yes, Lance. Only my boyfriend can fuck me like that. It’s the law.’ 

‘Hey,’ he shrugged, ‘You fucked me like that for months without being my boyfriend.’ Keith dropped his face back against Lance’s chest, hiding in the crook of his shoulder.

‘I wanted to be,’ he groaned, ‘Does that count?’

‘Yeah, I’ll take it,’ he hummed, wrapping his arms around Keith, ‘Get some sleep, vaquero, you need it.’

‘M’kay,’ he drawled, already relaxing, letting Lance shift and take his weight. They settled down against each other, skin still warm and thrumming with afterglow, and let sleep take them. The pair of them were out in minutes, exhausted after days of stress, sleepless nights, the relief of confession and the sweet, tender love. 

When morning - or what passed for it in the depths of space - broke, Lance blinked his eyes open, catching on the tangle of inky black hair spread across his shoulders, his pillow. Of the soft, quiet breathing beside him. Keith, sleeping like the dead on his stomach. His own arm pinned beneath the boy’s neck, Keith’s hand thrown over his ribs, both of them butt naked. Lance grinned again, kissed his boyfriend - he had an actual boyfriend, for real, and it was Keith - on the forehead. His brow furrowed, still scowling, but he didn’t wake. Lance let him sleep, watching the rise and fall of his breathing, how the artificial sunrise softened all his edges. 

They walked into breakfast drowsy, with wet hair from stealing kisses in the shower, Keith wearing Lance’s spare t-shirt, and both of their jackets zipped up to their chins. Slapping away wandering hands and snickering at each other as they were the last two in the kitchen, all of their team staring at them, utterly bewildered. Lance snapped his fingers, pointing both forefingers at Hunk with a blinding grin on his face. Keith rolled his eyes and walked over to the goo hose.

‘There he is,’ Lance chimed, sliding next to the yellow paladin, lit up like a madman as he cupped his best friend’s cheeks, ‘Good morning to my beloved man of the fucking hour, my god! My own personal Jesus, sorry mister Cash. Did he write that? Who cares! I owe you my life, Hunk Garrett. I’ll do your chores for the next quintant, movement, which one’s longer? I always forget.’

‘Wha-’ Hunk’s eyes were as wide as the rest of them, flitting about like he was looking for secret cameras, ‘What is going on? Are you okay?’

‘Better than okay, my top prime bro best friend in the entire world and all the other worlds we have seen, I’m fucking amazing,’ Lance sighed, squeezing his cheeks harder.

Pidge gaped, jaw nearly hanging in her bowl, ‘Is he having a stroke?’

Lance released his friend's face and slung an arm around his shoulder, shooting a lazy glare at Pidge, ‘Why, a man can’t simply enjoy a beautiful morning with his beautiful teammates? Can’t thank his beautiful best friend for being the bestest best friend a guy could ever befriend?’

‘Stop being weird, Lance,’ Keith huffed, sliding into the spare chair to his left, two bowls of goo in his hands, ‘You’re scaring them.’ Shiro snickered and Keith shot daggers at him, ‘Not a word.’ Their leader bit down a grin, miming a zipper over his mouth.

He dropped hold of Hunk to accept the bowl and a spoon from Keith, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, making his boyfriend - oh man, he was never gonna get tired of that - go red in the face, ‘Thank you baby.’

‘BABY?’ Pidge dropped her spoon. Allura blinked a mile a minute, hand frozen where it was bringing a spoon of goo to her mouth. Only Coran was unaffected, save a strangely knowing twinkle in his eye.

Keith’s eyes narrowed, cheeks still red. ‘Lance,’ he hissed, eyes blazing. Lance grinned wider, reaching over to tuck back some hair that had fallen over his face.

‘Okay, okay I’m sorry, but you should see your face right now,’ 

‘Shut up,’

‘Really cute when you’re mad at me,’ 

‘I hate you.’

‘Do you?’ Lance batted his eyes. Keith scrunched up his nose, then slumped back on his chair, muttering under his breath, ‘Anyway,’ he turned back to the team with a dramatic clap of his hands. ‘Hi everyone, wonderful weather we’re having this morning. Thank you for your patience in this matter but Keith and I are now officially together for realsies, no freaky deaky space venom involved.’ He reached down to entwine their fingers and rest their joined hands on the table, Keith still blushing furiously, but allowing it, ‘We will now be taking questions on a “hands-up” basis, so one at a time please.’

A beat of silence. Then everyone’s hand shot up, fighting over each for who got to ask first.

‘What the hell is goi-?’

‘Are you gonna be gross fore-?’

‘How come your jacke-?’

‘Is that why-?’

Keith groaned, dropping his head against the table. Lance cackled, stroked his fingers through Keith’s hair, leaned down to press another kiss to Keith’s cheek and whispered, ‘Last chance to back out, hotshot. Still love me?’

His face inched to the side to see Lance, still grinning, but there was a flicker beneath it. Keith's irritation melted like snow in a microwave. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘Just don’t traumatize them.’ The flicker vanished, replaced by something fuller, another carding of Lance’s fingers through his hair, calm and easy against his scalp.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he leaned back up, pointing at Pidge with a flourish, ‘You there, little gremlin at the front, you first!’