#limey?

Lance blinks and chokes out a “What?” Though his cheeks start to darken almost immediately, proof he knew exactly what Keith meant.

Keith goes on anyway.

“Like… just… I mean, we’re soldiers, two very hot soldiers, we know each other better than anyone else in the known universe, got each other’s back… you’ve got a nice back… I mean. With all the times we got locked in rooms together, side missions, stranded on planets, just— you’d think we’d have hooked up by now.” 

“Keith I dunno how to tell you this bud, I mean you’re definitely like— unholy levels of— well— beautiful— but like. I’m not. I’ve never been…uh...Gosh this is a really good drink. You wanna try it?”

Keith glances at the cup in Lances hand, it’s purple and kind of glitters, a little like Lance’s lips. 

Keith has been ordering ales. Not adventurous and pretty much a light weight. Lance had been ordering all these strong colorful things, two for every one of Keith’s and barely getting fuzzy around the edges. Clearly more seasoned. He told Keith he’s been drinking since he was sixteen and was “good at it.”

Keith meanwhile felt hot in the face. 

In the face and in the chest and Lance’s lips sparkled…

“What’s...what’s it taste like?” Keith murmured aloud. 

Lance blinked and took a long drought from his cup. He very clearly swished his tongue around his mouth to get a good solid taste of his own drink so he can explain the taste properly, but Keith gets impatient. 

Or opportunistic.

Thinking about the way Lance’s pupils dilated when he looked at Keith and stumbled out the word “beautiful” 

Staring at the liquid glitter on Lance’s beautiful lips.

So, he slips his hand behind Lance’s neck and pulls him in until his lips are a breath away from his own. 

And despite his earlier renouncement of his interest he comes without a fuss, his lips even part in just the most inviting way…

His eye lids slip down and his hand slides around Keith’s waist and pulls him in just a bit closer and— 

 And someone nearby makes a particularly improper comment and Keith sees red. 

And despite Lance— beautiful and perfect and right within his grasp— being so, so willing, Keith has to pull away and remove that horrific stain on that perfect moment. 

Because if he’s going to kiss Lance, really, finally kiss Lance, then it isn’t going to be to the backdrop of some loathsome ingrate whose brain is stuck so far in the past his immediate ancestors were possibly fish. 

 It’s unfortunate that a whole brawl broke out when Keith took that first guy down, but is it really his fault someone didn’t recognize the leader of the Paladins of Voltron? 

Besides, Keith’s had just enough to drink to stop being too cautious about his own strength and skill and he crushes the minor riot in a few quick flips and well-aimed kicks. 

He imagines it could have been a nice little warm up if he still had the Altean castles training room to work out in later. 

Marmora missions aren’t nearly as hands on anymore and Keith is signing up for them less and less to help Lance and the others at the garrison. 

So, getting in some actual hand to hand? Using the muscle he’d built up for years and had no excuses for anymore? Just feels good to stretch his legs like that. Release some of that tension. 

 By the time he turns back to Lance who’d since returned to their table to sip at his drink again and watch him take care of the stragglers, Lance is looking at him funny. 

 Not funny haha but funny weird.

Weird in the way it kinda settles as this warmth in the pit of his stomach and his face gets even hotter than it was previously and his voice may be a little shrill when he speaks as opposed to the cool and aloof demeanor he’d displayed while kicking bar rioter ass. 

 But it makes Lance smile so screw aloofness. 

 “L-Lance?”

 Lance lifts his glass and holds it out to the ex-red Paladin as he walks over on legs that are far shakier than they need to be. 

“Still wanna try?” He chuckles a little. 

And Keith is disappointed by his wasted opportunity but nods, reaching for the glass. 

Except, Lance retrieves it, presses the glass to his lips and downs the rest.

Keith eyes the shimmer on his lips again. The way Lance leisurely places the cup back down on the table behind him and tilts his head forward as he taps the corner of his lips.

“You better act fast or you’ll miss it.” 

 It may come as a surprise, but Keith really and truly… couldn’t give a damn about the drink. 

 It was good, sugary sweet like candy. Keith would have wondered if it was even alcoholic if it wasn’t for the fact that the moment Keith’s lips touched Lance’s it felt like something bursting in his chest. The culmination of years of want. Of questioning Lance’s sincerity, of wishing to just take this one step—

 Lance’s lips part invitingly, and Keith can’t even be bothered to care that they’re surrounded by groaning and or knocked out men laying on the floor of a bar in the outskirts of town. 

Keith takes that invitation and his tongue finds more of that sweetness in Lance’s mouth but it’s not what he wants. 

He pushes deeper, stands on his toes in an effort to tower over Lance and push him against their all but forgotten table. Lance chuckles instead, holding his ground as his hands go around Keith’s waist again. He grips his sides as he presses their bodies together, the strength in his hands causing Keith to sigh into the kiss that’s finally starting to taste like it’s just Lance.

It fills him with renewed vigor, and he moans into the kiss, the noise startling Lance just enough for him to land back into their booth.

 By the time they finally part Lance is on his back on the booths seat with Keith’s knees straddle his waist. Keith wants to go right back to it, but Lance looks like he’s catching his breath to say something, so he waits.

Because contrary to popular belief, he loves every ridiculous word that comes out of his mouth.

He listens to Lance slowly start to chuckle, so he waits.

Because even if it’s some stupid joke, this is Lance’s response to their first kiss, and he knows he’ll want to remember it all.

He feels Lance’s hands as they start to come around him, one up the side of his face and into his hair, the other around his waist and squeezing; and still Keith fights every instinct in him to kiss him again because Lance’s eyes are gleaming.

 Keith squirms instead, because he’s impatient and he needs Lance to know without a doubt how much he’s struggling. Lance’s breath hitches at the movement and he almost loses his cool, instead he tugs on Keith’s hair and dips his other arm just low enough to grip Keith’s ass cheek through his pants. 

 Keith’s lips fall open on a silent moan and he’s seconds away from begging Lance to let him kiss him again when Lance laughs. 

“Oh man… definitely unholy.” 

 And Keith loves it, because Lance is smiling and breathy and beautiful, but also, “Is that it?!” 

Lance grins and tugs him down by his hair, eliciting another questionable sound from Keith before their lips meet again. 

 It’s a few moments of grinding their hips together and memorizing the feel of each other’s mouths, completely ignoring the bar and the rest of the world around them, when Keith finally pulls away.

“Take me home.”

 He pulls off Lance completely and grabs him by the hand, pulling him out of the booth and tugging him to step right over the unconscious body of one of Keith’s many victims this evening. 

Lance makes a face at the carnage, probably having forgotten all about it, that looks somewhere between embarrassed and proud before he squeezes Keith’s hand and follows him briskly out of the bar.

 “Yup, I’m probably in love with a demon.” 

 Keith paused and looked back at him, unsure if he’d heard correctly. Lance’s face reddens but once again, he holds his ground, staring him right in the face and taking nothing back. 

So, Keith laughs instead.