#voltronmlm

Coran let himself lean into him, turning himself slightly to nestle into his chest. “The quiznacking machine won’t do what it’s meant to! Anyone would think it’s gained consciousness.”

“We better prepare for a robot takeover then, shouldn’t we?” Blaytz jested, wrapping his other arm around his boyfriend. Coran humphed in reply. Blaytz let out a soft chuckle and pressed a kiss to Coran’s temple. He couldn’t hold back a soft smile at the affection. Blaytz always knew how to cheer him up.

Blaytz’s arm shifted from his waist and he looked up at him. Blaytz gave him his signature sneaky grin before pulling out his recording device. Coran frowned at him.

“Blaytz, this is hardly the time to be taking pictures,” he said to him and Blaytz pouted.

“But you love them,” he almost whined, drawing out the last word.

He wasn’t wrong. Their room was plastered with pictures Blaytz had taken of the two of them, and the ones Coran took sneakily while he wasn’t looking. Blaytz always found out but he never minded. Looking into Blaytz’s eyes though, he couldn’t resist. He was so weak for his beautiful boyfriend.

“Fine. Just one,” he said, trying to firm.

Blaytz beamed back. “I knew you would come around.”

He switched the camera to the hand that had been around Coran’s front and snuggled him close from behind. He bent his head and pressed it against Coran’s. He couldn’t hide the blush that snuck onto his cheeks so he instead held the hand that curled around his hip.

He could see Blaytz’s cheeks warm on the device’s screen, turning a darker blue than usual. He pulled Coran closer and took the photo. Blaytz kept Coran against him to Coran’s pleasure as he lowered his arm to look at the resulting photo. He had timed it perfectly to match with the red flashing of the screen. The photo was bathed in warm light. It was beautifully romantic.

“Is it going to go on the wall?” Blaytz asked him, a soft smile on his face, eyes undeniably full of love. Coran smiled back.

“Definitely.” He kissed his cheek, going up onto his toes the slightest bit. “Now let me work,” he said.

Blaytz beamed and ruffled his hair. “Catch you later, sweetheart.”

Coran watched him leave, sad to see him go. Blaytz must have sensed his gaze. He swiveled around, shot finger guns at him and winked in one swift movement. Coran let out a bubble of laughter and turned back to face the keyboard.

When he returned to their quarters later, the photo was already on the wall with a note next to it. It read, “love you, gorgeous xx”.

“You never did learn how to knock,” he said, starting in a jovial tone, but soon trailing to one of concern when he noticed Lance’s expression. He put the book aside and sat up a bit. “What’s wrong?”

Lance wordlessly walked over and flopped down on top of Hunk. “Sad,” was all he said. Hunk somber smiled.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, running his fingers through Lance’s hair. He knew Lance loved it. Lance wiggled a bit so he could bury his face in Hunk’s chest.

“Family. Miss them.” Hunk’s heart clenched in empathy. Lance had a habit of speaking in fragmented sentences when he was really upset, quite the contrast to his usual rambling style. Missing his family was also what upset him the most, something Hunk related to.

Hunk let himself slide down the bed a bit and hugged Lance with his other arm. He felt wetness seep through the material of his t-shirt.

“You’ll see them again. I promise. I’ll make sure of it, even if it’s the last thing I do.” Hunk meant every word of that promise; he would do anything for Lance. He was the love of his life after all.

Lance let out a sound like a mixed sob and chuckle. He lifted his head, resting his chin on Hunk’s chest and meeting his eyes with his red rimmed ones.

“Same here,” he smiled at Hunk, even as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I’ll make sure you get to see your family again too.”

The tears that had been welling up in Hunk’s eyes broke. He pulled Lance close and he hid his face under Hunk’s chin.

“I love you. Always,” Lance said, pressing a kiss to Hunk’s skin. Hunk smiled despite the tears that still fell.

“I love you too,” Hunk replied, “Always.” He lifted Lance’s face with a gentle hand to his jaw and softly kissed him. He rested his forehead against Lance’s. He traced patterns up and down Lance’s back and said, “we should sleep.”

Lance hummed in assent and gave him a kiss in return. He sat up to grab the blanket and pulled it over them, then settled down, laying against his boyfriend, arms wrapped around him.

“Sometimes, I feel like you’re a million miles away,” Keith sighs. Lance just continues to stare aimlessly out the window. His hospital room has a nice view of nothing. Just a few buildings that are close by. Nothing out there could be that interesting.

Keith shifts in his chair. The hospital chair is uncomfortable, but everything seems to suck here. Lance is sitting in the chair next to him, attached to various machines that beep incessantly. He doesn’t even look at Keith when he says something, just stares out the window. That seems to be his favorite past time recently.

The room is relatively small, though it serves its purpose. There’s a bathroom to Keith’s left and Lance’s bed is behind him along with all the beeping equipment. Keith hates it here.

Silence falls between them and all Keith can hear is the beeping of machines. It’s driving him crazy. The beeping never stops. How does anyone stay sane?

Lance is like this on most days, never responds. Some days he does, but it’s usually a short conversation. And sometimes he gets aggressive. He’s attacked Keith, a doctor, and a few nurses until he realizes where he is.

Having had enough, Keith gets up to leave. “I love you,” he says, knowing Lance won’t say it back.

There are good days. Days where Lance actually replies, days where Lance is almost himself, days where you’re barely able to tell. That’s what makes Keith come back. Those days make the times Lance has snapped at him worth enduring. Just to see Lance smile and actually talking.

A nurse pulls him aside on his way out. “I don’t think he’ll be able to go home for awhile, he attacked another nurse yesterday,” she informs him.

“He’s just… scared. You said he forgets where he is sometimes, it must be scary.” Keith knows it’ll be awhile before Lance is ready to go home. He’s not sure if he’s ready for Lance to come home. He’s not sure he entirely understands what’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong with him physically, it’s his brain that’s hurt.

“Yes, he must be. His condition isn't getting any better, though.” Keith turns to look back at Lance. He knows those had been the words he’d been fearing. What if he never got better?

What had Lance been thinking? It had been three months since it happened and Keith still can’t wrap his head around it. Everything was going well for them, or so Keith thought. Lance never showed any warning signs of wanting to kill himself, yet he tried to jump off the building. He had been unsuccessful, and suffered severe injuries. Months had passed and the physical wounds were gone. The mental wounds stayed though.

Once Keith is in his car, tears began to stream down his face. Would Lance ever get better? It was like he barely knew him anymore. Lance wasn’t his usual smiling, joking self.

One day, the Lance he knew just up and vanished. The man he visits every day looks like him, sure, but it’s not him. The man he talks to every day barely knows him. Doesn’t tell those dumb jokes, doesn’t make fun of him, doesn’t comfort him when he cries. Sure it’s Lance, but it’s not his Lance.

----

Keith decides he hates sleeping alone. He wakes with a fright, shaking, but there’s no Lance there to comfort him. There’s never a Lance there to comfort him anymore.

He can’t stop shaking. His dream seemed so real. He focuses on the world around him. The soft hum of the ceiling fan, his increasingly messy floor, his dresser with dumb knickknacks on it.

Maybe he should call someone. Listening to someone talk always calmed him down; it was something to focus on. The only problem is that it is 3am.

Shiro would probably scold him and Pidge would probably tease him for having emotions. He knows they both care in their own way, but right now he really needs Lance.

The three lay down in the grass on the hill. Keith feels like he’s committing a crime being up here, a place that belonged to Adri and Lance only.

“And that’s Cygnus,” Lance says, pointing out the swan. Hunk and Keith nod. They know these constellations, studied them as children, but they dare not tell Lance to stop. “The star on it’s tail, Deneb, is a blue supergiant. And that’s Aquila, the eagle.”

“Are the swan and eagle friends?”

“Yeah, they are.”

A warm summer wind ruffles his hair. He wiggles his feet in the cool dirt. He remembers the feel of Adri’s small hand in his as he’d guide her hand, tracing the constellations. Tears begin to fall, but he pushes through.

“I want to go out there.”

“Me too.”

“And that,” he says, pointing, “is Cassiopeia, the Queen. Her closest star is only 19.4 light years away. It was Adri’s favorite…” He trails off, thoughts running wild in his head.

“She must be beautiful!” Adri marvels. “And huge!”

“Yeah,” Lance says. “And one day, we’ll get out there.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

Keith falls asleep listening to Lance ramble about the stars. Hunk stays up with him all night, slipping his hand into Lance’s and giving it a small squeeze, encouraging him to keep talking. Lance squeezes back.

He keeps thinking of his little sister, left alone after he went to the Garrison. It was his fault she was gone. He should have stayed. Instead, he went all the way across the universe and left her alone. Being home without her didn’t feel real.

The one thing he had feared the most. The one thing he hated is what he had lost her to. All the more reason to hate the water. Maybe he’ll never get over this fear, and that’s okay. He had Hunk and Keith there for him, and he had his family again. What more could he ask for.

He takes a calming breath. Hunk and Keith keep him afloat, keep his head above the water. They’re not going to let him drown.

The drink felt warm as it traveled down his throat. He couldn’t quite tell you what it tasted like; it tasted like three different things at once, like toffee, tea, and something he just couldn’t describe. Whatever it was, it burns his throat. He wasn’t complaining, it tasted good.

The bar wasn’t too busy as it was a Thursday night. That didn’t stop Keith from feeling overwhelmed. Too much noise drove him crazy.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking,” Shiro chided him. His roommate approached, clad in their work uniform: a simple white T-shirt with the company logo on the back, black pants, and a black apron.

Keith scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Isn’t that what people do at a bar?” he asked as he took another sip of the drink.

“Keith, the doctors told you not to,” they said. “I told you that you could come to work with me, but we agreed on this.” Keith sighed. “I’m serious, Keith, you don’t know how the medicines will mix.”

“Whatever,” Keith said as he took another sip.

“Okay, you’re an adult. I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved.”

“You’re doing a pretty bad job about it.”

“Keith.”

Keith ignored Shiro and continued drinking.

Shiro sighed. “I’m going to get back to work, I hope you make the right decision.” 

Keith stared Shiro in the eyes and took yet another sip of his drink. Shiro mumbled something under their breath and turned on their heel.

He took yet another sip, emptying the glass. Setting down his now empty drink, Keith motioned to the bartender. The burly man came over and refilled Keith’s drink without question.

He turned around to people-watch, the action making him realize his slight dizziness and he swayed in his chair. His eyes scanned the room and fell on a fair-skinned stranger that seemed rather familiar. Keith thought he’d remember a face that beautiful. The man laughed at something his partner said, throwing his head back and clutching his stomach.

The man was wearing a blue crop top and booty shorts. In the fall. He at least had an oversized green jacket on. Keith was surprised that the man wasn’t cold as it’s always a little bit chilly in the bar.

Keith wished he had the nerve to go over there. Though, he’s not really good at this. He’s awkward around people. Shiro and Pidge were the only ones that put up with him.

Instead of going over there like a normal person would, he observed the man from a distance. The tan stranger chatted animatedly with the man sitting with him, throwing his hands around as he talked.

Shiro approached them, trays in hand and the man winks at them. Keith could imagine that Shiro rolled their eyes as they finished serving the food and walked away.

Keith tried to look around the bar at other people, but his eyes were drawn back to the man. Something about him seemed warm and familiar? Like he had known this man for awhile. Which made no sense, as he was obviously a stranger.

He sighed. Maybe he was finally going insane. Crazy just like everyone thought he was. All that shit was finally catching up to him.

The man caught his eye. Keith’s ears turned red and he immediately averted his gaze. The man now knew he had been staring. Fuck. He probably thought Keith was a weirdo. Even Keith thought that he was a weirdo, so why wouldn’t this guy?

He got up and made his way over to Keith, his expression unreadable. Maybe that was just because Keith was bad at reading people. When he finally reached Keith, the man sat down in the stool next to him, turning to face him. He kicked one leg idly, seemingly unable to sit still. He placed his elbow on the table, and rested his head in the palm of his hand.

“Does mullet-man have a name?” he asked in a hushed voice. Mullet-man? Rude. His voice was pretty hot, though. There was a slight- Spanish?- accent. Keith only knew this because he had spent a few months in Puerto Rico. He’d heard plenty of accents living there. It wasn’t as deep as Keith liked in a guy, but it was attractive all the same.

“My name is Keith,” Keith said, his words slurring together slightly.

“Keith,” the man said, testing out the name. He tilted his head, thinking. “I guess it suits you.”

“Thanks?” Keith wasn’t sure if he was being teased or not.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be mean, it really does suit you,” the man said, seeing the worry on Keith’s face. “I’m Lance.”

He stuck his hand out for Keith to shake. Hesitantly, Keith shook it. Lance seemed disappointed somehow. Was it something Keith said?

“Well… it’s nice to meet you, Keith.”

“Likewise,” Keith said politely. He didn’t know what to say now. Usually the other person has to carry the conversation for him and Lance seems to be waiting for him to say something else.

Eventually learning that Keith isn’t going to say anything, Lance said, “so my friend says you were staring. Is there a reason why?”

Keith blushed. “Just… people watching, I guess.”

“Hm, okay,” Lance said, satisfied with Keith’s answer. “Hey, this is really dumb, but have you come here before?”

“Yeah, I used to come with my… roommate. They work here and they’d let me tag along and hang out in the workroom.”

“Okay. I swear, you look familiar. Maybe I’ve seen you around here before.”

“It’s possible, but I tend to avoid people like the plague.”

Lance laughed, throwing back his head like he had before. When he stopped laughing, he sighed loudly and shook his head.

“You and I seem very different,” Lance commented. “Different is good.”

“I guess so,” Keith said, unsure where Lance was going with this.

Lance pulled a pen out of his coat pocket and grabbed a napkin. He scribbled something and handed it to Keith.

Keith looked down at it. It was a name and number. Lance’s name and number. “Lance de Leon,” it read. Underneath his number, it said, “you can call me anytime ;).”

“Thanks,” Keith said.

“Call me sometime,” Lance replied. “I have to get back to my friend, we need to leave soon. Seriously though, call me. It’d be nice to hang out somewhere that not in a bar.”

“O-okay,” Keith said, dumbfounded.

Keith got a guy’s number, holy shit. This was a day for the history books. Keith Kogane got a man’s number.