Keith is such an asshole. That's not new information for Lance, of course, but it bears repeating. Keith is such an asshole.
They're sparring. It was Keith's idea. Lance had initially said "No." to Keith's proposal to train with him, because he figured he'd done enough for the week. Keith said, "Lance, you need to do it every day." And then, the bastard smirked. "Think you can't keep up?"
Lance sputtered, "Of course I can keep up! I could train circles around you any day." That didn't make any sense. Whatever.
So, that's how Lance finds himself dodging Keith's punches. He's pretty good at avoiding getting hit, actually. He's starting to get pretty confident in himself. He hasn't actually landed very many punches of his own, but that's besides the point. His confidence quickly dissipates when Keith hooks his foot behind Lance's ankle and trips him. Lance's face meets the hard glossy floor, and Keith wastes no time sitting on him.
"Best two out of three?" Keith offers, and Lance can hear the stupid smirk in his voice.
"Get. Off me," Lance grumbles out, and Keith chuckles.
"Sorry? Did you say something? I can't-- I can't hear you."
"Off. Now," Lance grumbles out again, and Keith finally relents, removing his weight from where he was sitting on Lance's back. Lance rolls over so that he's actually facing Keith, who's offering a hand to help him up. He reluctantly takes it, and rises to his feet. "I hope you die in a fire."
"I hope you drown."
"Then, get haunted, idiot."
"You're that obsessed with me?" There's that stupid smirk again. Lance wants to slap it off Keith's face.
"N-No!" Lance stammers out. "I'm not obsessed with you. You just suck."
"Sure."
"I'm really not!" Lance insists, voice getting higher in pitch. "You just suck so much-- HEY!"
Keith lands a blow to Lance's stomach. "Keep your guard up."
Oh, that was it.
It took a lot of effort on his part, but eventually, Lance had successfully tackled Keith to the ground, pinning his arms above his head by his wrists. Now it's Lance's turn to smirk and gloat. "I told you, I can train circles around you--" Keith is looking up at Lance with an expression Lance can't read. Their faces are so close together. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Lance demands.
"I just never noticed how pretty your eyes are."
Lance chokes. He feels his face flush. He backs away from Keith's face as much as he can without compromising his victory of having Keith pinned down. Big mistake. Keith takes the first vulnerability he sees to roll them over so that he has Lance pinned. He leans in so close that their breaths mingle, and Lance can hear his own heartbeat in his ears.
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so @heynhay posted this art and i’m incapable of being normal so. here’s 3k words of angry pining. tee hee <3
———
Keith Kogane never does anything halfway. He doesn’t shrug or “why not, I’m not busy” his way into being a pilot, a paladin, a person. He feels everything with his whole chest so fiercely that he tastes a scream with every emotion.
So when Keith realizes he’s in love he punches a wall hard enough to break the skin over his knuckles.
Because why Lance? Lance, of all people, is the one his heart latched onto. Lance, who is loud and obnoxious and cares so much about everything and everyone. He, as well, puts his whole heart into every action, and doesn’t pull away from a fight— in fact, he starts most of them. It’s… exhilarating.
At that thought, Keith punches the same dent in the wall with his other fist.
He stares down at his knuckles, blood slowly trickling from scrapes, and scowls. He scowls because the first thought to his stupid brain is that it would be so nice if someone else wrapped up his hands for him. Someone with long, deft fingers who comes from a big family full of kids who fall and scrape their hands, so he’d have experience patching Keith up just right.
He kicks the wall this time.
———
He wraps his hands well enough. He has his own experience in violent outburst related medicine, so it’s not that bad actually. Not great, but whatever.
Whatever.
“Whatever,” he tells his gloves as he slips them over the bandages to keep them in place, as well as hide them. He doesn’t need Shiro mother-hen-ing him.
He hears a squeak, and turns to see one of the mice watching him from one of the desks, curious.
“Whatever,” he tells it, more force in his voice. He makes a shooing motion and it scampers off, probably to tell Allura.
Whatever.
He grabs an ice pack and presses it into his foot next. He kicked the wall with shoes on, but it was still enough force to leave him regretting the action. His boot now sits on the floor, with his sock on the examination table he sits on.
“There you are, man!” calls a voice, and Keith looks up to see Hunk entering the room.
“What’s up?”
“Well, we’re about to start movie night, but what’s up with you?”
“I, uh, stubbed my toe,” Keith says, knowing it comes out an obvious lie.
Hunk gives him a look that Keith can’t read, but changes the subject. “Still up for the movie? We haven’t started it, Lance wouldn’t without you.”
…
Hm.
Well.
Uh.
Keith wants to punch something again.
“Yeah,” Keith says, eloquently.
In his grip, the ice pack pops. Freezing liquid soaks his sock.
“Oh shit! You okay, dude?” Hunk says, closing the distance between them with large strides.
“I’m fine,” Keith says, maybe a little too loud. Gross gross gross gross gross— “Just. Gimme a few minutes to change.”
“Uh. Alright, if you say so,” Hunk says, looking… confused. Yeah, that’s fair.
Keith manages to calm down after that. Hunk leaves him to get a new sock and he spends a few moments in silence before rejoining the team, taking deep breaths.
And then the doors slide open at his approach, and the noise spills into his ears.
There’s a passionate argument happening between Hunk and Pidge about some technical jargon Keith couldn’t hope to follow. But he isn’t even trying to, because Lance is throwing his head back and laughing at their back and forth, face scrunched up in a way that oozes childlike joy.
And it’s only when Lance stops laughing and turns those brown eyes onto him that Keith realizes he’s been standing there in silence for a full ten seconds.
“There you are!” Lance says, unknowingly parroting his best friend. And Keith gets a head on look at that eye-crinkling, dimpled smile. “Thought you vanished or something.”
“I was busy,” Keith says simply, defensively. He crosses the room, standing close to the couch to look at the viewing screen. “What are we watching?”
“Yes, after your human horror film, I have to show you something actually scary,” says Allura, who was completely unphased by the first three Saw movies. (Hunk had to leave twenty minutes into the first one.)
On screen the movie is paused, showing a title card written in spooky Altean font. Keith may not be the best at social cues, but he can hear the clear challenge in Allura’s voice. Resolute, he plops himself into the nearest seat on the couch.
Right next to Lance. If he explodes in a violent cacophony of viscera and fondness, so be it.
The movie starts, and it’s… confusing. There’s a lot of cultural subtext and commentary that Keith doesn’t understand, but he’s long since given up on trying to.
What he does understand though, is the way Lance is right next to him, their thighs touching. He feels it every time the other boy flinches or squirms. He just hopes Lance can’t feel Keith’s heartbeat just as clearly.
When the movie has a classic scene of silent anticipation, Keith can hear his own breath like it’s through a bullhorn. The whole team sits with tense patience as the lead walks silently down a narrow hallway.
Next to him, Lance draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins. Keith turns his head ever so slightly to see Lance staring at the screen with wide, expressionless eyes.
Keith wants to do something stupid. Like put his arm around Lance’s shoulders and comfort him.
Quick as lightning, the tension in the scene dissipates. The lead is kidnapped. Hunk screams. Allura giggles.
Most importantly, Lance flinches and turns away from the screen. He’s facing Keith. He’s watching Keith watch him.
“What the fuck,” he whispers in terror, barely audible over the movie and the team reacting to it. “Why did we agree to this?”
Keith is staring. He knows he is and he should probably say something but he keeps staring.
Lance smiles, closed lips and fond eyes. “I don’t even like horror.”
“Yeah,” Keith says, eloquently.
“You do though, right? Is this actually scary or is it just me?”
Well, him and Hunk, who is trying to hide behind Pidge’s tiny frame. But Keith doesn’t know that. He’s too busy drowning. “It’s alright.” He couldn’t say a single thing that has happened on screen.
Lance squints, looking more amused. Good. Someone like him should only feel joy. “Right,” he says, before turning back to the movie. Keith makes himself do the same.
He forces himself to pay attention. Because his brain being a supercut of everything Lance Álvarez is embarrassing, even if no one else knows it.
The lead escapes her kidnapper. Someone else dies— her best friend or sibling or something. Yes yes, very tragic and sad. She takes their sword to fight the killer. Poetic cinema and whatnot—
Now hold the fucking phone and stop every single goddamn press because Lance Álvarez is putting his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith freezes, totally rigid and unable to process anything save for the tickle of hair against his neck and squish of cheek against his shoulder.
But like. He’s sooooo normal and average about it.
The rest of the movie passes uneventfully. Well, surely there’s some resolution or scary thing or whatever but Keith doesn’t give a shit. Not until the credits start rolling and the lights turn back on— dim but still illuminating— and everyone shifts.
Pidge stands from where she was sandwiched like a human stress ball between Hunk and Allura, stretching her arms over her head. Hunk and Allura immediately occupy her empty space, talking about what they just watched. Coran adds his own commentary to the analysis— apparently he knew the director?
The noise and lights rouse Shiro, who slept through most of the film. His eyes immediately find Keith and Lance, and he smiles at Keith. A stupid, teasing older brother smile. Shiro’s known about this crush for a while, even without Keith voicing a single thought in his head. He’s apparently very easy for Shiro to read. Keith glares at him.
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad! Lance,” Allura is saying, and then she’s turning to face him. “tell Hunk he’s— oh.”
The entire team sees it now: Lance, curled up in a ball, leaned against Keith. Keith, a statue the color of his lion, supporting Lance. Four different facial expressions present themselves to him, but before he can decipher, Allura is turning triumphantly to Hunk.
“See? He fell asleep, it wasn’t that scary.”
“His head exploded!” Hunk shouts. Keith thinks, when?
His gaze falls to Lance. He’s apparently a heavy sleeper, if he still hasn’t risen during the ensuing argument. His face is squished into Keith, and it’s annoyingly, impossibly, terrifyingly adorable.
Fuck.
He stands up suddenly, and Lance falls into the spot where Keith just was. But Keith is too busy striding out the door.
“Wha? Huh?” is what he hears from a sleepy Lance before the doors close between them.
———
He’s finally decided to talk to Shiro about it.
He needs advice. On how to bend his mind to his will so that he can focus on literally anything else besides the warmth of Lance’s body against his. If Shiro could get straight As in the Garrison while head over heels for Adam, he’ll have to have something useful to tell Keith.
He doesn’t knock on Shiro’s door. Little brother privileges. Just opens it and walks into the already in progress advice session.
“I’m literally gonna jump out the airlock if this keeps happening, he’s just so—”
And everyone freezes. Keith, in the doorway. Shiro, on his bed. And Lance, pacing back and forth.
Keith and Lance’s eyes meet. Lance’s eyes widen. He panics.
“GET OUT!” he shrieks, arms flailing before he points out the door.
Keith doesn’t move as he processes Lance’s panicked rage. He’s interrupting something. He looks to Shiro.
“Give us five and I’ll come find you,” he says simply. He looks at Lance for a second, then adds, “Make it ten, actually.”
Wordlessly, Keith turns and walks away, the door sliding closed behind him.
He’s in his own room, doing push-ups so he doesn’t punch another wall, when Shiro finds him. He also doesn’t knock. Big brother privileges. Just opens it and strides in and falls onto Keith’s bed with a sigh.
“What’s up, kid?”
“I’m not a kid,” Keith says, finishing his push-up and moving to sit cross-legged. “What were you guys talking about?”
Mindlessly staring at the ceiling, Shiro says, “If I tell you then I tell Lance why you wanna talk to me.”
The mental image of Shiro nonchalantly broadcasting his feelings is enough to make even him let something go. “Fine,” Keith says.
“So what is it? Is it him?”
Keith sighs, falling apart to lay on the floor and also watch the ceiling. “Yeah.”
Shiro just hums in acknowledgment, waiting for Keith to continue.
“I don’t know what to do. I just keep thinking about him all the time. It’s the fucking worst.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Shiro says, suspiciously sounding reminiscent.
“And the other day after the movie? I just left! Why did I do that? The fuck is wrong with me?”
“You want that list alphabetical or chronological?” Shiro quips.
Keith just sighs. “What do I do?”
“Tell him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Keith sits up. Makes Shiro look at him. “Have you just met me?” He made Shiro order for him at restaurants for a year.
Shiro raises an eyebrow, then lets his head fall back down. “Fair.”
Keith falls back onto the floor. “Yeah.”
“So you’re just not gonna tell him?”
“Yeah.”
“And then what?”
“And then I deal with it. How do I deal with it?”
Shiro laughs, quiet and mostly an exhalation. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because my baby brother is in love and I need to support him.”
Keith groans. “Shut the fuck up.”
“No. Can I be your best man at the wedding?”
“No. Allura’s best man. Best woman. Whatever, there’s no wedding!”
“But you’ve thought about it.”
“I’ll end you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first to try,” Shiro jokes. “But you really just aren’t gonna tell him?”
“No! I can’t!”
“But do you want to?”
“Yeah, obviously.” God, Shiro is stupid.
“Then why can’t you?”
“Because it’s me!” Keith sits up again. “I can’t talk, I-I can’t flirt, I’m not smooth like him and all the girls he likes!”
Wait.
He falls back onto the floor again. “What if he doesn’t even like guys?”
It’s silent as he processes this thought. How did it not occur to him before? And then, Shiro’s making a noise, soft and muffled and—
“Don’t laugh!” Keith says sitting up once again to glare at his brother.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just…” Shiro covers his face with both hands and sighs into them, calming his amusement. “It’s just funny.”
“What about this is funny?” Keith demands, standing.
Shiro moves his hands away from his face to give Keith a look like this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. But you should tell him.”
Ugh. “Fuck off,” Keith decides, walking away to leave Shiro alone in Keith’s room. Shiro’s returning laughter follows him out.
———
Cleaning cryo-pods isn’t Keith’s ideal way to spend his day, but it isn’t as bad as it could be.
“Okay, okay. Truth or dare?” Lance calls from the pod next to Keith.
“Truth,” Keith says, because just five minutes ago he was dared to clean a pod while hanging upside down, and he almost needed to use said pod as a result.
“Hmm… do you like anyone?” Lance asks, ever casual.
“Yeah?” Keith says, “I like everyone.” This whole Voltron thing isn’t possible without everyone getting along.
“No, like, like like someone,” Lance says, “Romantically.”
Keith pauses. Then he resumes cleaning with more vigor. “Yeah.”
“Really!?”
“Yeah. Truth or dare?”
“No, wait!” Lance says, and Keith hears him approaching. “Who?”
“That wasn’t part of it. You get one question,” Keith says, erasing the last specks of dust off the inner walls. He steps out of the pod and drops his rag.
“Come on!” Lance says as Keith reaches for a sponge for the next pod. He grabs Keith’s wrist, pulling him away from the sponge and into Lance’s space. “Tell me.”
Keith looks at that face he’s damn near written poetry about and swallows. He rips his hand away and creates distance between them, and he’s sure his glare is murderous. “Fuck off.”
“Aww, he’s nervous!” Lance teases, following after Keith, who crosses his arms and shows his back to Lance, a clear message to not poke the bear.
Lance literally pokes him as he saddles up behind Keith, one hand settling on an elbow and another on a shoulder.
“Little Keithy’s in love?” Lance asks, and it’s clear in just his voice that he’s beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I tell you?” Keith asks through gritted teeth, his face on fire. He looks away from Lance, at the clean bare walls.
“Because I’m the best wingman this side of the universe!” Lance says, hands squeezing. “I can help you woo this mystery person. Step one,” His hand moves from his shoulder to gently tug at a lock of hair. “do something about this mess.”
Lance’s voice in his ear, Lance’s hand on his arm, Lance’s hand in his hair. It’s all too much and he’s about to do something stupid, like kiss him.
Instead he screws his eyes shut, uncrosses his arms, and presses a finger to Lance’s lips, stopping the words in their tracks. He extends his arms fully, pushing Lance away and creating distance between them.
There’s a beat of silence, neither boy moving. And then Keith feels the soft exhale of a laugh on his hand, and then another hand in his.
He opens his eyes and swivels his head just in time to see Lance pressing a kiss into the back of Keith’s hand like royalty, right on the gap in the glove, lips to skin.
Keith stares, unable to do anything as Lance, face dusted with the smallest blush, drops Keith’s hand and leans back on his heels. His smile is shaky. “Sorry Romeo, I’m just messing with y—”
Unthinking, Keith presses his palm to Lance’s mouth. “Do it again.”
Lance’s blush erupts in full force. The two maintain eye contact as Lance gently, slowly takes Keith’s hand in his again, head bowing as he presses a kiss there again, painstakingly gentle.
Keith watches as Lance moves so thoughtfully, asking permission with every shift. His hands glide up Keith’s arm, hands coming up to cup his face. There’s barely a height difference, despite Lance’s insistence, but Keith feels those centimeters like miles as he looks up into Lance’s eyes.
Lance’s eyes, which are pointed south, lower than Keith’s own eyes, to stare at his lips. His eyes flit back up, and in the eye contact a silent question is asked. Keith manages a weak nod.
Their lips meet and Keith is first and foremost blown away by how soft Lance is. He’s known for months now that Lance is capable of inhuman degrees of kindness and compassion, but it’s never been directed his way. To feel this softness, of his hands, of his lips, of how he moves, is breathtaking. Keith’s hands fall to Lance’s waist and he tries to follow along, tries to be soft too. It’s surprisingly easy; Lance makes him soft, after all.
When they part, it’s all too soon.
Lance is still cupping Keith’s face, looking down at him with pure awe. Keith’s pretty sure he’s faring about the same. They’re both still blushing, and everything is warm warm warm.
“Truth or dare?” Keith asks before he knows what he’s doing.
Lance smiles, and Keith finds the other half of himself. “Dare.”
I wanna feel like I can't come down, I got a dream so I can't stop now
this,,, is the end result of listening to the spider-man into the spider-verse album on repeat and thinking about voltron 24/7,,, spiderman but he’s lance mcclain, a cuban idiot
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Here’s my piece for the @cosmicdustzine ! Creating this was such a wonderful experience! All proceeds from the zine go to the True Colors United fund and we really appreciate any donations!!
au where everything's the same, but when it comes time for the witch to die, Allura goes "YEET!" As she picks up Haggar and throws her into the light, turning around and running as fast as she can towards the paladins, and doesn't die. Also she gets to keep an AI version of her father cause fuck DW
