Alright, hold on a second. Let him back it up.

See, Hunk has known Lance since they were literal infants. They go way back. And never, not once in their lives, has Lance been taller than Hunk. For a long time, actually, Lance wasn’t taller than anyone — he was a scrap of a child if you’ve ever seen one. A smurf, really. One of Santa’s elves.

He was a short ass kid, is the point Hunk is trying to make.

Even when he suddenly shot up like a particularly stubborn dandelion when he was sixteen, growing a foot and a half in three months, he still never managed to get taller than Hunk’s chin.

Something that amused Hunk to no end, but something he wouldn’t dare voice: Lance, as a former short king, took jokes about his height as sleights against his very honour and livelihood. You wanted to see Lance stand to his full height and insult people like a Victorian nobleman who’s family line had been questioned? Imply in any way, shape, or form that his height left something to be desired.

He’s very sensitive about it.

That’s why Hunk sits there, jaw dropped and eyes narrowed in indignation, as he watches Lance struggle to reach a cabinet door.

Well. ‘Struggle’.

You must understand. Lance not struggle with height related obstacles. If there is something that is too high for him to reach, he will grit his teeth and find a damn way. In fifth grade, Lance’s older brother Marco had accidentally put his skateboard away in the garage storage on the shelves by the ceiling, and instead of asking for help like a normal person, Lance scaled the side of the wall, latched himself to the rafters, and crawled upside-down to reach the skateboard. Ten feet in the goddamn air. Above a cement floor. He then proceeded to hang from the rafters by only his legs and wiggle his skateboard free, then he jumped from the goddamn fucking ceiling to the floor.

ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS ASK HIS MOTHER TO GET OUT THE THRICE DAMNED LADDER.

But no. Of course not. Under no circumstance, even the intense risk to his immediate safety, would Lance risk a comment on his height.

Lance would have no trouble climbing up on the counter and scaling his way up the cabinets to reach whatever he needs. Hunk’s seen him do it on several occasions. So have Shiro and Coran; it stresses them out to the point where it amuses even Hunk.

So why on Earth — or in space — is Lance acting like he’s helpless?

“Keith?” Lance calls, straining on his very tiptoes to reach a jar of spices. “Can you grab that jar for me? It’s a little out of my reach.”

No. No. No way. It can’t be.

Lance is forgoing his honour for a man?

No! Hunk cannot believe what he is hearing with his own ears! Seeing with his own eyes! Processing with his own brain!

Hunk once saw Lance judo flip a boy for offering to help him reach the books from the top shelf of his locker! In the hallway! Shamelessly! And the boy was cute, too, even to Hunk’s objective eyes!

But now Lance is feigning helplessness! For what? To simp?

For fuck’s sake — what happened to feminism?

Hunk is disgusted. Revolted. What is this slander, this unholy display of wanton sensuability. In the kitchen. Where people eat.

“Sure,” Keith says, and Hunk is so beyond words that he can’t even appreciate how immediately Keith abandoned what he was doing to go do whatever Lance asked of him.

(Well. Hunk appreciated it a little. But, you know. Hyperbole. Hunk’s fond of it.)

Instead of stepping to the side and letting Keith grab it like a normal person, Lance stays exactly where he is, hand still outstretched. In no way is Keith deterred by this, and simply lays a hand on Lance’s hip, leaning against him as he easily stretches up his free hand to grab the jar of spices.

“Here,” Keith says, one hand still very much on Lance’s hip.

“Thanks, man,” Lance responds, batting his eyelashes. He takes it with a smile, ducking his head and tucking his hair behind his ear.

Hunk is going to vomit for real. What is this absolutely sickening behaviour he’s seeing?

“Anytime,” Keith whispers, and he sounds so whipped that Hunk is genuinely embarrassed for him.

God. This is — this is horrible.

Look, the thing is — the thing is that Hunk does not need to be here. It’s not his turn to make dinner. It’s Keith and Lance’s turn. Usually, though, when these two knuckleheads do anything together, another member of the team watches them to record the Klance Shenanigans in the Embarrassment Folder that they all playfully shake their heads at later. Hunk was free, so he volunteered this time.

But he was expecting to see some playful flirting and occasional flushed face, and of course endless banter.

Not whatever this is.

(Is Hunk truly, actually disgusted by this behaviour? No. Of course not. He wants nothing more than for his best friends to be happy, and he knows they are and will be together.

But come on.

Come on.

Have they no self-respect? It may be the fact that he’s ace, but personally if he ever pretended to be helpless so his crush could do something for him and then spend the next several minutes staring gooily into their eyes, he’d be just a little bit humiliated.

But that’s him.)

“Is this spice for the meat or the sauce?” Keith asks, finally breaking away from their Stare-Down Of Infatuation And Probably Also Lust.

“The sauce,” Lance replies. Keith nods, walking a couple steps away from Lance and to the stovetop.

He cuts a quick glance to Lance — who has returned to rummaging around the cabinets and is not looking — and grins a little bit to himself.

Hunk narrows his eyes.

Oh, he better not —

“Oh, jeez. Lance, could you help me open this jar? The lid’s on real tight.”

That whore!

Hunk cannot believe his eyes! Again!

This is ridiculous. Preposterous!

Besides the fact that Keith’s absolutely fucking stacked, he’s just as stubborn as Lance when it comes to asking for help. Like, last week, Keith was on dinner duty with Hunk. He was struggling for real to open an airtight Altean container, and instead of asking Hunk — who, obviously, is also very jacked, and has been in the past the only non-Altean able to open said containers — he activated his blade and cut the lid clean off.

Yeah.

Really.

So why was Hunk seeing him ask Lance to open a jar? It doesn’t — no! Why! Even if Keith was truly struggling, Lance has noodle arms! He’s bulked up a little since they came to space, sure, but still! Pidge calls Lance beanstalk for a reason!

“Sure,” Lance chirps, taking the jar and easily opening it with one twist, proving Hunk’s point that Keith is full of shit.

They’re both so full of shit.

“You’re the best,” Keith says, beaming at Lance, and —

Hunk’s done. Nope.

“I am making my leave,” Hunk announces loudly, startling Dumb and Dumber, who’ve no doubt forgotten Hunk was in the room.

“Oh, did you have something else to do?” Lance asks, expression wide-eyed and would-be innocent were it not for the slightest smirk on his face, and Hunk imagines his asshole best friend behind bars for his own piece of mind.

“I’ve just remembered that I have to invent brain bleach with Pidge,” he deadpans, and neither Asshole A or Asshole B look at all apologetic.

“Good luck with that,” Keith even says, and now Hunk’s imagining him behind bars, too.

“You are going to answer for your sins in the deepest pits of hell,” Hunk informs them.

“You’re an atheist,” Lance responds, without a second of hesitation.

“You make me wish I wasn’t so I could hold a god accountable for what I just witnessed,” Hunk shoots back, equally as quickly.

Keith laughs, marking him to loser of their little stand-off.

“Sorry, Hunk,” he says sheepishly. “I forgot you were there.”

“Obviously,” Hunk drawls.

Keith grins. “We promise to tone it down next time?”

Hunk rolls his eyes. “Will you.”

“I promise nothing,” Lance adds, reaching around to squeeze Keith’s ass, literally, without an ounce of shame.

Keith grins harder.

“I don’t understand you two. You’re not even dating.”

Keith shrugs. “We’ll get there.”

“Plus,” Lance says, “the only reason we haven’t made it official yet is because we’re really enjoying making the rest of you hate us. It’s pretty funny.”

“You’re literally incorrigible.”

“Mhm.”

“I regret becoming friends with you.”

“Unfortunate for you! The exchange period has expired! You’re stuck with me!”

“I know, you insufferable jackass,” Hunk says, but he sounds fond even to his own ears.

Lance grins. Keith shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

“Love you, Hunk!” they say at the same time.

Hunk waves a dismissive hand. “Whatever,” Hunk says, heading for the door. “I kind of love you too, I guess. Don’t burn dinner because you’re too busy making goo-goo eyes at each other.”

“We won’t!”

They do.

I blame you entirely @kaxpha I take no responsibility.

…. Y u hurt me dude.

Anyways. Here it is, chapter 1. Lance and Shiro angst + broganes angst + KLANCE angst + ….Just angst all around, yo.

Um…So yeah, hope you like??? It’s also on Ao3 on my same name. It’s the second part of the Human Healing Pod Au.

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. Human Healing Pod Au doesn’t belong to me.

——————————

Shiro frowns exasperated as he catches Lance’s blue glowing light from the corner of his eye.

It’s been a few weeks since their last group training took place with Lance’s new healing powers. The brunet insisted that he had the hang of it, being able to work through the process on small injuries without getting dizzy after it.

Lance had reassure Shiro that he will continue training on his own but Shiro had just pursed his lips, not convinced in the least. After a few minutes arguing, Shiro finally agreed to Lance’s plan but only if the brunet had someone with him during his training sessions, something that Lance had grudgingly agreed to along with a few more conditions.

One week later and Lance was already breaking one of their conditions.

“That boy, I swear.” Shiro mumbles, making his way towards Lance as the brunet places his hands over the alien refugee they just saved in today’s mission, his blue eyes falling into a vivid glow entirely in less than a tick, “Hey, I said no more healing today, Lance. You –“

It was just a light pull. Shiro placed his Galra arm over the brunet’s shoulder and pull just enough break apart the contact between him and the alien’s wound and suddenly there was screaming.

Agonized and pained screaming echoes around them and Shiro just stares in horror as Lance shakes and continues to scream in his arms, his glowing eyes getting brighter before losing their light and then being bright once again.

“Lance!” Shiro shouts startled, “Lance, buddy, what’s wrong¡?” He yells in panic, making sure to hold the teen tight against him as he continues to scream and then –

Then Lance sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his head, losing their blue glow, and he goes limp on Shiro’s arms, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and Shiro’s heart skips a beat at the sight.

“L-Lance?” He whispers softly, voice cracking, “Buddy?”

“LANCE!” Keith’s voice echoes in panic and urgency, “Lance¡? Shiro, what happened¡? LANCE!”

“H-He’s not breathing.” Shiro gasps, a cold shiver running through his spine, “H-he’s not –“

Lance’s suddenly taken away from him by a pair of red armored hands. Shiro blinks in panic and confusion for a moment before he raises his head and stares at Keith as the black haired teen cradles Lance’s body against his.

“Lance, baby, hey, come on, come on, this is not funny, Lance, please.” Keith mumbles, his free hand gently patting Lance’s cheek in hopes of getting a reaction, “L-Lance, baby, please, please, no. Hey! Come on, you promised! Lance!”

Everything’s a blur for Shiro after that. Keith’s screams and pleads echo inside him, mixing themselves with Lance’s screams along with Hunk’s sobs and the image of Pidge’s scared face. Barely noticing when Coran makes his way towards them and takes Lance from Keith’s arms, followed by the blurry image of Hunk holding Keith back as he trashes and screams wildly when Lance is taken away from him.

He doesn’t even notice Allura’s presence until she whispers his name against his ear and he snaps out of it. He blinks hard and takes the surroundings around him. He’s in Allura’s room, lying down on her bed, facing the ceiling in disorientation and confusion.

“Wha –“ Shiro mumbles softly, “What.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Take it easy.” Allura whispers gently, stroking his hair, “It’s alright.”

“What happened?” Shiro asks in a daze, eyes groggy and tired before they snap wide open as he remembers Lance’s limp weight on his arms, “Lance. What happened to Lance? Allura?”

“You killed him, that’s what happened.” Shiro freezes at the cold harsh voice that answers him and slowly turns his head to the side to meet his little brother’s glare.

“Keith!” Allura snaps, sighing in exasperation as if it wasn’t the first time she has scolded the teen.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Keith snaps back, frowning and glaring angrily.

Allura stays quiet and Shiro’s blood turns cold.

“Allura?” He asks in a small voice and Allura shakes her head.

“He died for a few ticks but we were able to get him back.” Allura answers, her shoulders tense and her voice tired, “But it wasn’t anyone’s fau –“

“No. It was Shiro’s. It was Shiro who made Lance push himself in every training session knowing the danger. It was Shiro who made Lance feel like he needed to push and push and push himself more every time. It’s because of Shiro that Lance has dark bags and swollen red eyes and is tired all the time. It was Shiro –It was Shiro who broke the connection and caused Lance’s heart to stop.”

One, two, three beats and then –

“What?” Shiro breaths out, slowly sitting up on the bed and waving away Allura’s complaints, “What? What does that – What?

“Keith.” Allura says calmly but with an edge of warning in her tone, “Stand down.”

“Whatever.” Keith mumbles, scoffing and sending Shiro a dark glare before turning around and walking towards the exit, leaving behind a frozen Shiro.

“What.” Shiro whispers, “What?”

“Shiro –“

“Keith, no, wait!” Shiro ignores Allura’s words as he climbs down the bed and follows his brother with wobbly but fast steps, “Keith Kogane Shirogane, come back her –!”

Keith turns around sharply and Shiro takes a surprised step back at the furious snarl on his kid brother’s face.

“Don’t call me that.” Keith whispers with menace, “I want nothing to do with you, you hear me? Nothing.”

“Keith –“ Shiro stops as Keith suddenly crashes against him, barely dodging the fist that was aimed for his face, “Keith!” He repeats, grabbing Keith by the arms and keeping him still.

“You damn son of a –! It was your fault! You and your stupid rules! You and – and – God, I hate you, Ifucking hate you!” Keith screams, fist hitting the young adult on the chest, “You fucking – I fucking hate –“

“Buddy –“

“You didn’t protect him!” Keith screams, still trashing and kicking against Shiro’s hold on his arms, “You didn’t protect him! You promised and you didn’t –! You just let him die in your arms! You just stood there as he died and –! Fuck!”

“Keith, please –“ Shiro rasps out brokenly but Keith shakes his head, taking a step back from his older brother, shrugging his hold.

“No. No. He died, Shiro. My – Lance died and I – I couldn’t – And –“ A sudden abrupt sob escapes his mouth and suddenly Keith falls to the ground, sobs shaking his entire body, “I –I –I didn’t know what – And you were – You looked so hopeless as you held him and I couldn’t – I fucking lost it –“

“Keith.” Shiro mumbles, his heart breaking for his little brother but the teen just continues to sob on the ground in the middle of the hallway.

“I-I’m sorry, fuck – I’m sorry, Shiro – I know it wasn’t – wasn’t your fault but –“ Keith presses the palm of his hands hard against his eyes in hopes to stop the flowing tears, “It was mine. It was my fault – And I slash out at you and I’m – He was dead, god , he wasDEAD, SHIRO!”

Shiro doesn’t hesitates and then he’s on the floor, wrapping his arms around his little brother as the teen shakes with sobs, still mumbling incoherently against his brother’s chest and Shiro takes no mind as snot and tears mix themselves on his shirt.

He just holds his brother, tight and strong, and sucks in a deep breath to stop his own tears from falling.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs under his breath against Keith’s wild hair, “I’m so sorry, little brother.”

Allura just stands quietly on the corner, watching with sad eyes as the brothers sit on the floor, holding each other. She turns then, giving them their privacy before she enters the first room down the opposite hall.

Her footsteps are soft as she walks towards the bed on the corner of the room. The room is dark and quiet, for the exception of the hard panting breathing coming from the bed.

Allura takes a seat on the start of the bed, near Lance’s face, and watches sadly as the brunet rasps out harsh breaths through his mouth, unable to fill his lungs properly.

“Hush, now, it’s okay, Lance. It’s okay.” She mumbles gently, brushing Lance’s wet hair back as the the brunet whimpers inconsolably, “Sh, asteráki. You’re alright.”

She stays there for a while, humming under her voice to calm the brunet down and whispering comfort words as he whimpers and whines unconsciously.

Allura losses track of the time but suddenly, the door opens once again and she meets Shiro’s wide scared eyes at the edge of the door.

“Shiro.” She calls softly and frowns when the leader of Voltron doesn’t knowledge her calling, his gray eyes solemnly placed on the shivering brunet on the bed, “Shiro, love.”