#starlitcore

   Shiro does his absolute best to look annoyed, but he has to roll his eyes upward towards the ceiling because he can feel the corners of his mouth betraying him. “Lance, sweetheart—I know you don’t like him, but I think your only saving gracing in telling Lotor, officially the new Emperor, to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine is the fact that he doesn’t know Earth idioms.” Not that Shiro entirely blames him. None of them wanted to get involved with the Kral Zera, and aligning themselves politically in a turmoiled, leader-less Galra Empire was a bad idea. 

   Sometimes, hard decisions had to be made, despite everyone’s feelings on the subject.

   Zarkon was dead.

   Things were changing.

   Maybe some things were changing too much, and bringing out tensions where there hadn’t been any before—Shiro’s not sure, and part of him is too nervous to delve deep into it when things between them had been so good lately.

   In the end, he doesn’t borrow Black.

   It’s kind of a silly excuse to borrow the Lion post intergalactic-war while Keith is on a diplomatic mission, and honestly, he hasn’t tries since the ATLAS happened, but it would have been nice. It’s not that silly of a reason.

   So the ATLAS gives him a ship.

   It’s small, bigger than a fighter but only fit for two people, which is great because it’s all he needs.

   Unfortunately he can’t excuse shirking all of his responsibilities, but he can excuse some—clearing a pocket in his schedule nearly breaks his head open with the shift of tasks that get toggled for Future Him to deal with, but he’ll deal with them as they come.

   For now, he snags Lance right after training—literally, in fact, the fingers of his floating arm hooking into Lance’s belt from right around the corner and holding him fast before he can get too far.

   It’s strange, waking up later that morning.

   Or rather, it’s strange that it’s not quite so strange at all.

   A little hot, a little uncomfortable, but not... strange.

   If anything, it’s the feeling that Shiro can’t quite feel his arm, and when he gently shifts Lance’s head off his shoulder, all the blood comes rushing back with pins and needles. Lance barely seems to budge, which is quite a feat with all the light beaming into the room, slicing through the part of the curtains that were never cinched shut all the way.

   He looks... tired, and maybe it’s the light, but the dark circles around his eyes are too prominent for Shiro’s liking. Still, it’s a small consolation that he smells calm, much calmer than he was last night. Shiro turns into him, crushing Lance a little closer against his body, and smiles at the soft whine of protest that grows in pitch the longer he keeps him there.

     even keith feels the spike of anxiety along the metal spine of his lion. the entire planet they’ve landed on is overcast by clouds, midnight, and the sun doesn’t seem to even exist in it’s orbit. there’s proof in the plant-life, dark and gnarling brambles of branches that rub ash off on red’s panels and dusts them up like charcoal. keith should be more careful where he lands, swerving between the thicket arms until he gives up. red’s claws dig in to a limb, which crackles and creaks under the weight, dropping sharply enough to make the lion grumble in a GROWL, and JOLT keith out of his own body. he’s lucky enough it doesn’t snap completely, a mumble to the beast under his hands. ❛ easy... ❜

     there’s the other thing━ the mist that swirls around the trunks and makes it difficult to keep track of the rest of the paladins. the blue lion is a blip in keith’s vision, foggy but there, and the coms are holding strong with flicks of static and fuzz.❛ you got anything, lance? ❜

   Shiro opens his mouth to protest, but his body goes wherever Lance’s pushes. He glances up, over the crowd, where he can just barely make out the top of his brother’s head, and he thinks he catches the flash of red of Keith’s jacket. They’ll be so pissed if Shiro grabs Lance and leaves, but he thinks that if the later weekdays were anything to go by, the culmination of it all in this weekend isn’t as big of a surprise.

   And then Lance is kissing him, hot and sweaty and tasting of peach schnapps and doing that thing to his hair that he really likes.

   He has no idea where to take him, and he tries to run off a list of his options until he can squeeze Lance off of him, angle his chin up to kiss his jaw.

nonverbal starters : steer ━ place a hand under their chin to make them look up.

     ❛ c’mon lance━ ❜ they don’t stand a chance without their sharp shooter. putting lance down and out pits them against guns they can’t reach, and heads they can’t clock out from this far back. keith has to try and pick up the pieces of the role shiro left him, live up to his promise of doing what he’s supposed to ; leading. they can get through this. have to.