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Strange? You Never Knew

Summary:

Keith may have aged, but he still has to grow up, clean his room, listen to his mother, and take care of the mess his space-wolf has made of everything. Lance isn't making it any easier for him to get over his crush, and Krolia just wants her son to be able to ask a guy out on a date without screaming into the floor.

Notes:

Post-Season 6 fic that started out as a silly idea but bloomed into a sappy romance.

If you need to know, I'm writing this with Lance as 18 and Keith as 20 (going on 21).

Thank you to lovely beta for sending me weird videos of lightsabers set to Kpop. Apologies to Kaltenecker for the weird fanfiction science going on.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

There's a low thunder of footsteps before the door slams open and Lance screams, "Well she's pregnant and it's all your fault, Keith!"

It takes a while for Keith to process these words.

He never thought he would ever be accused of impregnating anyone due to being very, very gay. And yeah he's asked himself if he found the right one, would he want a family via surrogacy? Adoption? So those options were never completely off the table, per se. Realistically though, they were outweighed by the state of total and absolute celibacy that he's been in since they found the Blue Lion back on Earth. But he's going off on a weird tangent, because there are other reasons that he never thought he could ever be responsible for–

Oh dang. Everyone is staring at him. He should say something and not just sink back into the sectional, hoping to blend in with the complimentary black fabric and disappear.

The team has been staying on a Voltron coalition planet that has given them some interim accommodations while they plan the trip back to earth. The villa is spacious enough, and everyone unanimously decided to re-arrange the furniture in a circle around the sitting room to make it look more like the old lounge. It's not the Castle of Lions, but it's been a nice little throwback to their "home".

Keith is stalling again, so he takes in all the eyes on him, and then looks up at Lance.

"Beg pardon?" he asks.

Lance takes a deep breath. "She is pregnant, Keith! It's all you and your stupid cosmic space-wolf's fault, and I am way too young to be a grandparent!" he whines, stomping his foot on the ground.

Keith looks down at his feet where his aforementioned pet has decided to sit. He twitches his ear but otherwise doesn't make a single move to acknowledge Lance's accusations.

"Ohhh, you mean Corn Chip is responsible for getting someone pregnant?" Pidge asks.

"God, that is the stupidest name in the world... Oh no, you are banned from naming our freaky alien grandchild, okay?" Lance continues, falling down on one of the couches and pointing his finger back at Keith.

Keith pouts. "Why is it a stupid name? He's pointy and blue like a–" he stops himself, remembering the first time he explained Corn Chip's name, and how it set Lance off.

"Ohhh no, say it. Say that fucking word like you said it the first time, Kogane."

"I didn't–"

"Say it!"

Keith sighs. "I named him that because he reminded me of blue tor-tell-ah chips," he says looking down at the floor.

"See! You can't even pronounce tortilla correctly! So how the hell can I possibly co-grandparent a freak baby with you? It's hopeless. You are hopeless. Everything is terrible," Lance leans back, rubbing his forehead as if in pain.

"That's how it was pronounced where I grew up, I didn't know!"

"I would still like to know what is going on please?" Shiro asks meekly, observing the two of them bicker.

Allura enters the room, seeming distressed, she's chewing on the sleeve of her shirt. Lance gestures to her. "I thought she was getting big and had a tumor or something so we took her to the space vet for scans and apparently someone's stupidly named blue time-displacer beast knocked her up!"

"Knocked her up... Allura?!" Hunk asks, looking at the Princess in shock. Allura's eyes widen and she shakes her head violently.

"Oh my god. No! Kaltenecker!" Lance shrieks. 

There's another loaded silence. It's broken by Pidge who says "Kaltenecker is... pregananant!?" which cracks Hunk up and the two of them start laughing, pausing when Lance glares daggers at them.

"What! How?" Shiro asks, looking between Lance and Corn Chip.

Allura wrings her hands. "As it turns out, Lance's pet was in estrus a few spicolian movements ago, and when Keith's pet phased through her, he left something behind. We're still sorting out the timeline, but that's the only explanation the doctors were able to give us. It's still rather tricky to determine all the factors at play due to Kaltenecker's species being so alien, and the inter-dimensional time-displacement energy that Corn Chip is prone to emitting."

"Can oo use freaky alien time/space distortion and get cow, gregnant?!" Pidge adds and she and Hunk go back and forth mispronouncing the word "pregnant" until Lance can't take it anymore and jumps up from the couches.

"Yes, okay I think we all get it now! Kaltenecker is pregnant and Keith's stupid wolf is the father and I am not raising a future abomination alone, you are helping me, mullet!" he punctuates by poking him in the chest.

Keith swallows.

 

**

 

Keith shuffles into his temporary bedroom and closes the door. Then lets himself flop bonelessly on the floor and moans into the carpet. Corn Chip ignores him and zaps around the room, before settling on his bed to chew on his pillows. He's been doing that a lot lately, Keith keeps having to ask for replacements.

Krolia looks up at him from her data pad.

"You are feeling bad about something?"

"Yesh," Keith says, muffled slightly by the carpet so he turns his head. Krolia is leaning forward now, gesturing for him to continue.

They may have spent the equivalent of two years together, but it was still a learning process to figure out what the both of them wanted out of their mother-son relationship. They're definitely closer now, and Krolia knows a lot of Keith's secrets, and has picked up on his habits. But there's still a quiet distance between them. Keith doesn't mind it, he still calls her by her first name, though a few times he's let a "mom" slip out and she's called him "son" maybe three times.

(Not that he's counting).

Still, she's become a good ear, unlike Corn Chip, who will just snort wolf-breath and spittle in his face or lick his feet as an answer to everything.

"What do you do when the guy you have a crush on has his pet cow impregnated by your teleporting cosmic wolf, and now you have to be in-laws?"

"Hmm," Krolia taps her chin. "I do not know. Your father kept chickens, so we never had this issue."

"Mmmrrggghh," Keith groans, planting his face back into the carpet, and he hears Krolia shuffle. "You don't have to–"

"Mirroring the body language of others can put them at ease and allow you to easily gain trust," Krolia says as she lies next to him, face down. "Also, physical contact. For maximum comfort and displayed empathy," Krolia smacks his shoulder.

Keith winces, trying not to show her weakness, but damn she's got to hold back a little or he's gonna dislocate something! "Thanks, I am comforted, really."

"Well then, get up and pick up your things, this room is a mess."

Keith looks up, his sheets and several fully-chewed pillows have been thrown off the bed. His Marmora uniform is wrinkled in a pile on the floor alongside some random boxes and knives haphazardly strewn about by his wolf.

"Ugh, Corn Chip!" Keith yells and his wolf at least has the decency to stop destroying another pillow to look up and make a guilty sound.

"You must take responsibility for the actions of your companion animal, Keith."

"That's what I'm told," Keith gets up carefully, stretching out his arms and legs, trying to stave off the pins and needles from being face-planted on the floor. Krolia glares at him like how Kolivan used to, and he dashes off to start cleaning up.

It's a little weird, but he actually doesn't mind. There's something warm that stirs when he thinks about how he's being told to clean his room and take care of his pet by his mother. It was something the other kids at school used to complain about to him, and he would get so angry.

"Alright, give me the pillow you frisky little weirdo," he says, yanking what's left of it from Corn Chip's mouth.

Krolia smiles and settles back on the couch with her data pad. Keith finishes and sits next to her, Corn Chip deciding to flop over the both of them like a fluffy, pointy blue blanket.

"Did you and dad ever have to deal with any weirdness with the chickens?"

Krolia nods. "A creature he called a 'kai-yote' once entered the chicken's enclosure during the night. Your father was very upset the next morning. Only two hens survived. The rooster was barely clinging to life, so I crushed his head with a rock to give him a quicker death."

"Geez..." Keith says, sucking his teeth. "That finally makes sense out of one of those random memory flashes I think I had back in the quantum abyss," he remembers seeing a half-dead rooster and then a stone slamming down suddenly. Keith shivers at the phantom memory.

"Mmn, your father cried. I was very concerned for his emotional well-being. Then I performed sexual favors for him, and he calmed down."

"Krolia!" Keith shouts. "How many times do I have to ask you to stop sharing inappropriate anecdotes about you and my Dad?!"

Krolia frowns. "I thought the term 'sexual favors' was obscuring enough? It's not like I told you I used my mouth on his–"

"No no no! La la la la!" Keith whines and covers his ears, singing loud nonsense words until her mouth stops moving. "You cannot say things like that! Obscurely or otherwise!"

Krolia huffs. "I... apologize. But you know how I feel about your frustrations, and the longing you harbor for an intimate partner. I am not a fan of you 'pining away' as Shiro called it, and I've half a mind to speak with Lance myself."

Keith leans his head back, it might be kinda funny to see Lance's reaction to an angry Galra mother demanding he form an "intimate relationship" with her son, who has been alternating between mooning and lusting over him in secret for just as long as he's been celibate.

Not that those two are related. Nope. No way.

"It's not that simple."

Krolia lifts an eyebrow. "'Hello Lance, may I take you to dinner?' Is that simple enough? Or should I give you an option with even fewer words? 'Lance, shall we to dinner?' It sounds a bit formal but I'm sure you could figure out a version that works for you."

"Mmmnn–" Keith catches himself, "um–Krolia, please don't ask out my cru–ugh–please don't ask Lance out for me?"

Krolia nods, her expression slips a bit. Keith reaches his hand out to her shoulder and squeezes it.

"Physical contact?"

She holds his hand there. "Very good, you're learning well."

 

**

 

Though they share a separate bedroom, Keith has gotten used to keeping his door unlocked so Krolia can come and go as she pleases in his quarters. Living together for those two years, he'd picked up on the fact she doesn't really care for boundaries. 

Shiro keeps comparing her to a cat. Which is a valid argument, but Keith thinks it has more to do with the fact that she's lived so long as a spy, and considers his room a safe space.

Either way, he doesn't stir whenever the door opens, and he hears her walking around his space. He wakes up smelling the tea she's brought with her. Krolia always brews some kind of tea in the morning. Even in the quantum field, she'd boil water with the juice of whatever edible fruits or fragrant flora they could source. It was a ritual Keith eventually joined in. Even when some of her teas were a bit harsher on his digestive system and he'd spend the rest of the morning throwing up and regretting everything.

At least that meant she'd let him rest and make sure Corn Chip kept watch over him, and she would tell him funny stories about her father or Kolivan when he was starting out as the head of the Blade.

"Like that one?" A voice that is familiar, but definitely not Krolia, asks.

"Absolutely. That one I dreaded until he could be bottle-fed."

"Heh. Gross."

Keith frowns, and opens one eye to confirm his suspicions. Yep, Krolia and Lance are standing over him, watching while he sleeps.

"Morning," he mumbles, sitting up. "Krolia, usually you should ask permission before letting someone else into a room that isn't yours."

"Apologies, Lance was eager to speak with you, I assumed it would not be a bother to murder all of the birds with a single rock."

Keith shudders as he gets another flash of Krolia dropping that infamous rock on the head of the rooster. "Right, two birds, one stone," he reaches over to her for his proffered mug of tea, breathing in the steam. Today's is minty with an earthy, pungent undertone.

"I was just explaining to Lance how odd it is that your face hasn't changed since you were a baby. You make nearly the same expressions as you always did."

Lance smirks, hands behind his back. "It has been... eye-opening."

Keith feels an adrenaline rush and his face burns. "W-what else did you tell Lance–" 

"You had a baby mullet!" Lance says gleefully. "I can't believe it, but then she showed me a picture and–"

Keith groans, putting the tea on a side table and sits up on his knees, his blanket dropping away from his bare chest. He reaches for his discarded shirt that Corn Chip is currently keeping warm by sleeping on. "Was that all you needed? Can I please get dressed in peace?"

Lance goes silent, and Keith is a little too preoccupied with shoving his stubborn sleepy wolf off of his clothing to pay much attention. Eventually, he gets his shirt freed and puts it on, grateful that he remembered to keep his boxers on to sleep in.

Lance is staring at him, and his expression is difficult for him to define. His eyes are wide and pupils a bit darker than normal. Keith tilts head to the side. "Uh, Lance?"

"Oh, right, sorry!" Lance answers, fidgeting with his hands. "I was gonna barge in here all self-righteous and angry again, but your mom kinda diffused me."

Keith pouts.

"That too, that was one of my favorite faces," Krolia says pointing to Keith's frown.

He buries his head in his hands. "Lance, please, what do you need?"

"Relax, I just need you to help me with something. Put on some clothes you don't mind getting messy in, and meet me in the garden," Lance says.

"There's a garden?"

 

**

 

There is a lovely garden outside of the villa they're staying at. Kaltenecker is munching away contentedly on a patch of blue grass. Keith has come in his usual outfit and Lance gives him a strange look. 

"What?" Keith says, crossing his arms self-consciously. He didn't gain that much height during his two years away (the single centimeter he has over Lance right now, notwithstanding) but he does feel odd in some of his old clothes, especially with how tight his sleeves are.

"All black?"

"You said clothes that can get messy, black can always get messy."

"I should have been more specific," Lance chuckles to himself, handing Keith a silver container. "So Kaltenecker is all knocked up because of your stupidly named pet space wolf, right?"

"I don't think I'm going to be allowed to forget those two facts for the rest of my life, am I?"

"Nope!" Lance beams, "And here's the thing, if I do all the work solo, I'm gonna give myself carpal tunnel. Plus you have those big meat paws that you should start getting used to."

"Meat paws?" Keith looks down at his hands. They really don't seem that much bigger.

Lance rolls his eyes. "Keith, Kaltenecker needs to be milked more because she's expecting. Get to it."

Keith drops the bucket.

"What?"

"Do you need a demonstration or something?" Lance says rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckles, then wincing in pain. "Ow, dang it."

"Did you really give yourself carpal tunnel from milking your cow?" Keith bites his tongue, it sounds so wrong when he says it out loud.

"No! I've just been flying Red all over the galaxy and fighting giant psycho ro-beasts unlike you!" Keith flinches.

Lance's tone changes, losing the venom as he looks away from Keith. "And uh, I guess I might have some added strain on my wrist from milking the cow, or whatever," Lance says, rubbing his left hand.

Keith nods. "Okay, just tell me what to do."

 

**

 

Keith is a centimeter taller than Lance, and his chest is broader (though Lance still has shoulders that are deceptively broad, maybe the same as his now). Keith's muscles might seem bigger and Lance is still the same height as he was, all long limbed and–

And fuck, he's got arms that can reach all the way around Keith's frame, with barely any strain or stretch. His fingers are longer, Keith can tell when they settle atop his own.

"Okay now grip it gently yet firmly, gently! Do you want to get someone kicked again?"

"Sorry," Keith flinches. Kaltenecker had not reacted well to his first attempt at grabbing an udder. So now Lance is draped over him like a human blanket and covering his hands with those long fingers that give Keith bad ideas. Keith huffs, hard enough to make his hair flop out of his eyes.

"Right, let's try this one, gentle pressure," he feels Lance's Adam's Apple bob against the back of his neck when he talks. Fuck, that isn't fair.

Keith briefly considers trying to remember all the embarrassing sex stuff he's blocked Krolia from telling him about his Dad, but he doesn't have much time because Lance's hand is squeezing over his, pulling down and it's not suggestive, no not at all.

It's all perfectly innocent, he's just milking a cow that his freaky pet space wolf impregnated, and his longtime crush is essentially hugging him and making him move his hands up and down in a squeezing motion, while white liquid shoots out–

Keith swallows. "I uh, I think I have the hand-hang of it!"

"You're sure?" Lance asks, turning his head and releasing Keith's hands, but is still wrapped around him.

"Yeah you just reach around–I mean reach forward and uh," Keith demonstrates on his own. "See? No kicking. Gentle pressure."

Lance makes an affirmative noise that reverberates along Keith's back and when they finally separate he feels gooseflesh rising in the wake.

"I mean, you're kind of slow at it, but there's definitely an improvement."

"Slow doesn't have to be bad," Keith narrows his eyes, taking his time to do it right again to show Lance. "How's your wrist?" Keith asks.

Lance hisses. "Not... great."

"You really should put a brace on."

"Kinda hard to get a brace that fits on a planet inhabited by people with squid hands," Lance says. "I got something to wrap it with, don't look at me like that," he reaches into his jacket pocket and shows Keith what looks like an ace bandage. He starts rolling it around his left wrist.

Now it's Keith's turn to hiss in anxiety at his technique.

"What?" Lance asks.

"Can I help? Please?"

"Since when did you have first-aid training, Florence Mulletgale?"

"Since I took first-aid training at the Garrison? And I can properly wrap an injury one-handed, you can't," Keith stops, wiping his hands on his pants and standing to face Lance. "Please?"

Lance carefully presents his left hand, and Keith unfurls the bandage with a single tug.

"Okay, so maybe it is tricky to get it tight enough when my other hand isn't 100% either."

Keith nods and makes quick work of bandaging Lance's wrist, supporting the tense muscles he feels. His hand is so warm, must be from all the blood flowing there to help heal his injury. Keith tests the finished job by carefully rotating Lance's wrist around, showing him his full range of motion.

"See? Much better, right?" Keith looks up smiling and Lance?

Lance looks miserable.

"Oh no, did I pull something?"

"S'fine," Lance mumbles, "thanks for helping with Kaltenecker. I'm gonna go take this to Hunk, he's got the pasteurizing stuff and whatever." Lance leans down to grab the silver container that Keith filled.

"Can I help you carry it?"

"Oh my god, I got it!" Lance shouts and storms off.

Keith crosses his arms. "Was it something I said?"

"Moo," Kaltenecker answers, and returns to her grass.

 

**

 

Keith lifts Corn Chip off his bed and carries him over to the sofa, allowing him to jump up and lay his entire body on Keith's.

"Do you need a rescue?" Krolia asks.

"No."

"He is not on top of your ribcage? You can breathe?"

"He is, and I'm okay with suffocation by act of blue fluffbutt."

Krolia tsks and removes Corn Chip from on top of him, snapping her fingers and pointing him towards the bed. He zaps himself there and resumes chewing on one of the last pillows that doesn't yet have his fang or claw marks.

"Do you want gentle, non-lethal physical contact?" she asks. Keith nods sitting up.

Krolia sits next to him and carefully maneuvers his head on to her shoulder.

Keith sighs. "Thanks."

She pets his hair. "You need to ask him to dinner."

"I need to ask him to bone me," Keith sputters, that was supposed to be just in his head, but before he can take it back, Krolia nods.

"They don't need to be mutually exclusive. It was one of the things I enjoyed about my time with your father."

"Krolia!"

"He was an excellent cook and he had very long fingers so–" Keith covers his ears and starts loudly reciting all the state capitals from West to East coast. He stops when Krolia finishes talking and making very unsettling hand gestures between the Dakotas.

"I thought we talked about this," Keith whines.

"I must have forgotten," Krolia clears her throat. "My apologies. How can I provide you comfort?"

"Not talking about you and my Dad having... ugh..."

"Do you want me to share an anecdote about how he wooed me without sexual content?"

"Do you have any of those?"

Krolia pulls her mouth to the side. "When I was heavy with child–no actually that helped the cramps. Ah, our first–no that didn't end cleanly. Oh! He brought me a ripe fruit one day, because it reminded him of me."

"Yeah?" 

"Yes, an egged plant. Though, it did not taste of eggs, now that I recall."

Keith snorts. "Yeah, that sounds like Dad."

"You could present him with such a gift? I believe a long, phallic shaped piece of fruit should display your intentions clearly."

"I'll think about it," Keith sighs, putting his head back on her shoulder.

"I shall keep an eye out."

"Thanks."

 

**

 

There's a familiar angry knocking at the door the next evening. Keith sighs, standing to answer it.

"Yes, Lance what did you-?" Keith's jaw drops.

"Egg!" Lance shouts.

Keith looks down at the blue and black speckled egg Lance is holding. It's big, maybe the size of a small child.

"Egg..." Keith repeats, then his eyes go wide. "Is Kaltenecker okay?"

"She's on the space equivalent of morphine, thanks in no part to your stupid horny mutt with a dumb, dumb name and-!"

Corn Chip moves quickly. First zapping himself to where Lance is standing, surprising him enough to yelp and loosen his grip on the egg. And then he zaps both himself and the egg back to Keith's bed.

Amongst the fluff of ruined pillows and shredded blankets, that Keith only now realizes is a nest, Corn Chip carefully places the egg in the center, and then turns around and covers it with his entire body, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Well, at least one of our terrible delinquent pets has some kind of parenting instinct." Lance tilts his head to the side.

"What did Kaltenecker do?"

"Tried to eat it. Had to wrestle it away from her before we upped the space-morphine enough."

Keith nods. "Okay, guess I'm sleeping on the couch." 

"I told you to clean up after your animal," Krolia sighs, standing up. "Lance, do you require any spare bedding from my quarters?"

"What?" Keith starts.

"Nah, I'll drag my mattress in. Or I'll get Hunk to help me." 

"What?!" Keith repeats, a bit more frantically.

Krolia turns to him. "Your companion beast is willful. Should he leave the egg unattended in the night, it will require body heat. I assume both you and Lance will trade off sleep in pursuit of keeping an eye on it?"

"We could set up heat lamps! Move the nest!" 

Lance shakes his head. So does Krolia. "Not really enough time to set up heat lamps until morning," Lance points out. 

"I nearly lost several of my digits trying to relocate the nests of your father's chickens. I do not recommend it." 

"Keith's Dad had chickens?" Lance smiles.

"Yes, they were very well-behaved otherwise. And delicious."

Keith covers his face with his hands and almost starts to groan when Lance answers her.

"Right? My uncle kept chickens. Fluffiest scrambled eggs I've ever had. And the man could fry a damn good wing. Ooh, that's going on my 'things to do when we get back to Earth'-list. Ah! And a wing-eating contest with Hunk. I'm gonna lose, but it'll be spectacular." 

Keith peeks one eye open.

"Oh, there's another thing he still does. Hides behind his hands. Lack of object permanence," Krolia says, leaning in to speak to Lance.

Lance snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm gonna go grab my things. Be back!" he says as he leaves Keith's room.

"Well, isn't that nice how it worked itself out?" Krolia says setting her hands proud on her hips.

"Krolia..."

"I think the closeness, perhaps leading to physical contact from him will solve things much faster, don't you?" 

"Nngh."

 

**

 

Keith takes the first watch, while Lance and Hunk move all his furniture around to make room for the spare bed they've dragged in. When Lance finally settles, he seems in no mood to sleep. So Keith just sits on the couch, looking up at Corn Chip every few moments, and sneaking glances at Lance when he's not pretending to read something on a data pad.

Lance has his own out, tapping away at the screen methodically. He thinks back to Krolia's advice.

Hey Lance, wanna get dinner?

Lance... do you eat?

Lance, who's got two thumbs, a horny space wolf, and is taking you to dinner? This guy!

Keith muffles a laugh into his hand. Lance would probably have him committed if he said something like that to him. He sees Corn Chip stirring, looking momentarily restless.

"Corn Chip, no, you stay there!" Keith says in a warning tone. Corn Chip yawns and readjusts himself on the egg, blinking back to sleep.

Lance makes a low sound. Maybe it's a grumble, or some kind of half-cough.

"What?"

Lance sighs, putting down his data pad and sitting up to face Keith. "It's such a dumb name. You have this gorgeous blue beast, and of all the things in the universe, you name him after something you can buy for $1.99 a bag at the grocery store? There's just infinite possibilities of cool names, and you managed pick the dumbest and weirdest one."

"Well, what would you call him?" Keith asks. 

Lance angles his neck to appraise Corn Chip, his eyes narrowing. "Mazzy," he says simply and lies back down on his mattress. 

"Mazzy?"

"Mazzy. Also occasionally to be called: Mazz, Mazzers, Mazzaroni and cheese, DJ Mazzy-Mazz and the Funky Bunch, et cetera."

"That wasn't the explanation I was looking for."

"Then ask for an explanation, you pop-culture starved uncouth," Lance turns to him. "Mazzy because of the band Mazzy Star. He reminds me of the colors from the album cover for Among My Swan and I like that band a lot and I don't actually not like your wolf. He deserves a cool name."

Keith shrugs, trying to sort through Lance's double-negatives. "I still don't really get it."

"Oh my god. Mazzy Star. Rhymes of an Hour? Into Dust? Do you know anything I'm referencing right now?"

Keith shakes his head.

"Don't tell me you've never heard Fade Into You? That is arguably one of the greatest songs of all time. Mazzy Star are pioneers in dream-pop that emerged from the Paisley Underground movement in California and... you still have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No."

"Slow dreamy, soft romantic music, Keith. Lots of acoustic guitars and echoing vocals. That's all you need to know."

"Yeah, okay," Keith says.

"I'm adding that to the list. When we're back on Earth, force Keith to listen to my terrible acoustic Sufjan and Damien Rice covers," Lance says, typing into his data pad.

"Never figured slow acoustic stuff was your type of music."

Lance sits back up with a shocked and pained look. "Are you kidding me? Okay yes I like my modern pop music, and you can pry my signed copy of Dangerously In Love from my cold, dead hands, however! I might not be still waters, but I am deeper than I look."

Keith raises an eyebrow.

"Okay maybe I got into dream-pop from watching Ariana Grande covers on youtube, but that's incidental. The point is, I love Mazzy Star, and Fade Into You is one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever recorded, and they will play that song at my funeral, Keith!"

Keith laughs, holding up his hands. "Okay! I'm not trying to argue with you!"

"No, it's not just that, wait... Have I never told you my theory of Mazzy Star and infinite slow-dancing?"

"Apparently not?"

Lance starts digging around through his things. "Everyone's parents, at some point or another, have slow danced to Fade Into You, by Mazzy Star. Even before it was recorded. If there were somebody's parents, somewhere in the universe, slow-dancing. It was to that song, whether they realized it or not."

"It's that good? Crossing space-time barriers?"

"It is literally the most perfect slow-dancing song of all time, and if my phone hadn't gone on the fritz after I landed on the ocean planet with Hunk, I would be playing it for you right now. But I have a–aha! Here it is."

Lance walks over to Keith, and sits on the floor with his back to the couch. He's cupping something in his hands. "I got Pidge to transfer over most of my music to this thing," he shows Keith a small device that looks like an amalgamation of an iPod and one of their Altean communicators.

"Here," Lance holds up his headphones and motions for Keith to join him. Keith looks at Corn Chip sleeping soundly, and carefully slides down to sit next to Lance on the floor.

Lance hands him one of the headphones, Lance puts the other in his right ear. "Let's see, where is it..." he mumbles, and Keith hears clicking sounds and the start-stops of several songs when he puts the headphone to his left ear.

"There we go," Lance smiles as Keith hears gentle guitar sounds and a sweet, soft voice starts singing. The rhythm ebbs back and forth, Lance moves his hand along with the tempo.

"It's pretty," Keith whispers.

"Do you hear it? That back and forth, the one-two, one-two," Lance says. "You can't not picture slow-dancing to this song, right? I always imagine my parents dancing to this before they got married, or maybe at their wedding?"

Keith hears Lance humming along, maybe it's unconsciously. It's not annoying though, his voice compliments the sounds.

"Maybe like... a rainy night in the kitchen and this comes up on an old radio, kinda worn and crackly. But you can still hear the rhythm and you look to each other and–" Lance pauses, his eyes locking with Keith's. Their noses almost bump, Lance must not have realized how close Keith was leaning in to listen.

An image of slow-dancing is definitely in Keith's head, but it's not his parents, or Lance's parents he's picturing. 

It's the two of them. Moving together, eye to eye, not breaking contact. Soft, sweet smiles and Keith's fingers curling at Lance's nape, pulling each other closer.

"Yeah, yeah I can see that," Keith says quietly, his voice doing that weird, deep rumbly thing that happens when he's tired.

Lance licks his lips, turning his head away as the song ends. "You just can't not slow-dance to this song, right? And like I said, bury me with this playing in the background," he starts it again from the beginning.

"Sure thing," Keith smirks.

"I mean Hunk knows. You don't actually have to remember that." 

"No, I think I will. Lance wants dancing during his funeral precession."

"Lance wants the most beautiful song in the universe playing as you all cry your eyes out putting me in the ground," he murmurs and Keith feels something stick in his throat.

"I'll um, I'll think about changing his name I guess. I dunno."

"Maybe we'll save it for the abomination that hatches," Lance picks at his bandaged wrist.

"Do you want me to wrap it again?"

"No, I want to sleep for a couple of vargas, so can I?"

Keith blinks. "Right, sorry," he takes the earpiece out, handing it to Lance who puts it in and taps on his music player. 

"Night, Keith," Lance says as he walks away.

"Night," Keith whispers, as Lance is back in his bed, burying himself under his blankets. Keith sits back on the couch.

Lance, dinner and dancing? You and me?

Keith shakes his head and resumes watching his wolf sleep.

 

**

 

Keith smells tea, this time it's crisp and spicy, like hot cider. He opens his eyes and is unsurprised to find Krolia staring at him.

"Were you watching me sleep again?"

"No," she says, handing him his mug. "Sarcasm."

"That's not how sarcasm works."

"You said it was 'funny lying'. I was lying, you know I watch you sleep as much as I possibly can."

"I meant that saying 'sarcasm' kills the sarcasm," Keith says, taking a sip and cracking his stiff neck muscles.

"Noted," Krolia looks over the back of the couch. "Should I make him some tea as well?"

Keith blinks. He's on the couch, not his bed. And there's no warm fluffy wolf body trying to crush his windpipe and–

"Corn Chip! I fell asleep!" Keith yelps and whips around to see the makeshift nest on his bed empty of his wolf, but instead Lance is there.

Keith stands up to look over him. He's sleeping soundly, headphones and eye-mask on, one arm wrapped around a mound of blankets and his green jacket.

"The egg is fine, Lance has effectively created adequate warmth with his extra clothing and only minimal use of body heat," Krolia says. coming to stand next to Keith. "I've expressed my approval of your choice in Lance before, but I must reinforce it. His ability in a crisis to remain calm, then quickly improvise and utilize materials at hand in a time-sensitive situation makes him quite the foil for you."

Keith sighs, "Yeah."

"Have I misspoken?"

"I'm just," Keith looks down at Lance as he sleeps, chest rising and falling. "Lance is in my bed."

"Ah," Krolia takes a drink of her tea, "so you now appreciate watching a loved one sleep? I accept your indirect apology."

"Krolia!" Keith whispers in a hiss, not wanting to test the limits of Lance's headphones to drown him out. He turns and nearly throws his mug down in frustration. "You can't just–I don't love him! I mean I like him, I like him a lot but you can't just start implying that I'm in love with Lance, when I can't even figure out how to ask him to go out to dinner with me!"

Keith walks forward, away from the bed, letting his head knock against the wall gently.

"And... how would you ask him that?" Krolia says after a moment. "What do you want to say?"

"I don't know," Keith taps his head against the wall again. "Hey Lance, let's get dinner?"

"That–"

He cuts her off. "Lance! You and me, eating dinner? How's that sound? Hey Lance, I've had a crush on you forever, but I decided instead of dealing with my feelings in any kind of healthy way, I would bury them inside the depths of my soul and hope they would just die. But then I went off with the Blade and spent two years of my life on a time-displacing quantum space whale. And remember how the moment I saw you, I snapped at you? It was because I wanted to punch you in your fucking adorable face because I realized I still wasn't over you! And then punch myself until I could forget all my pent-up feelings! But nooo, now I have some kind of weirdo space-egg-baby-sitcom-plot going on, and you're sleeping in my bed! And all I want to do is jump in next to you, and never let you go. But since I can't say any of this shit to your face without dying from embarrassment, how about we go eat dinner together? How's that, Krolia? Should I try rephrasing it a little?"

Keith finally picks his head up and spins on his heels to face her, and his heart drops into his stomach.

"I don't think it's necessary to repeat yourself. Lance, you heard all of that, yes?"

Lance nods from where he's sitting on Keith's bed, his sleep mask pushed up on his forehead and earphones around his neck. "Yeah, I got it."

Maybe Lance isn't that heavy of a sleeper.

Maybe Krolia woke Lance up on purpose.

Or maybe, the universe just hates him.

Keith's mouth opens slightly, then closes. He's not sure what to say, but he can't break eye contact with Lance. He's drawn in by the confused expression. A million things go through his mind, or maybe not that much, he's being hyperbolic. A handful of things, mostly excuses involving temporary insanity, or possession by cosmic entity to blame for his outburst.

"Okay," Lance says, nodding his head.

"...Okay?" Keith repeats.

"I'll have dinner with you," Lance blinks a few times, rearranging the egg to sit in his lap, still wrapped up in his green hoodie. "Did you have any particular place you wanted to go, or something?"

Keith shakes his head.

"Okay, any particular day or time then?"

Keith shakes his head again.

"Right," Lance sucks his teeth. "I guess..."

"Tonight!" Keith says a little louder than intended.

Lance considers, his head tilting from side to side. "Yeah, I can do tonight. We'll figure the rest out on the way."

"On the way?" Krolia asks.

Lance turns to her. "There's some decent places to eat in a district just south of the villa. I've got some gak to burn before we get back to Earth, so I've been going around, channeling my inner Anthony Bourdain, finding those secret hidden pockets of street food magic," he smiles, wiggling his fingers for emphasis.

Krolia nods. "Reminds me of Keith's father. He swore he knew the best places in Texas to find anything."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Oho?"

Krolia opens a pouch on her belt and counts out a wad of gak. "Please, it's on me."

"No, really it's okay Krolia, you don't have to," Keith tries to refuse but she slams the money into his hand.

"For food and any incidentals. I know we needed them the first time your father had me out on a date and we needed to stop and purchase some extra large-"

Keith groans, and covers his ears, shouting over her.

"The word 'hippopotamus' originates from two Greek words! Hippos, meaning 'horse', and potamos, meaning 'river'! When translated it means 'horse of the river', though they are genetically and morphologically distinct from true hoofed mammals! They are more closely related to cetaceans such as whales, dolphins and porpoises! The correct plural form is 'hippopotamuses', but 'hippopotami' is also accepted! The short form 'hippo' or 'hippos' is also commonly used!"

Krolia finishes talking, and then turns to lift the large egg out of Lance's arms. She hands him back his jacket, adjusts the blankets around it carefully, placing it within the nest of bedding. Corn Chip teleports back into the room, jumping on top of it with a quick bark.

Keith stops and catches his breath, his throat feels sore from all the shouting he's done. Krolia pats his shoulder, and leaves the room.

"Impressive," Lance smirks.

"I wrote that essay in seventh grade and had to memorize and recite it in front of my class."

"Hey Keith, you know when you do that, your mom just switches topics and talks about how hyperspace engines work, right?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, she's messing with you, buddy." 

"Well, at least that explains all the weird hand gestures. I mean I've never been with a girl, but I was pretty sure that wasn't how you should uh, touch them."

Lance laughs. "Yeah, you usually don't have to shift them into park, or tap their fuel gauges."

"Usually?"

Lance shrugs. "My mom used to do something similar, if she wanted to get me to be quiet or leave the room, she'd start talking about how she had to have a C-section when I was born and, ugh. I'm getting hives just thinking about it."

"Gross."

"Right then," Lance stands up, gathering his things, but leaving the mattress and extra bedding. "See you tonight?"

"Yeah," Keith says, and Lance walks past him and out of the room with a nod. The door shuts and he counts out a whole minute before he calmly takes out his communicator, typing '9-1-1' into it, and sending it off.

Maybe half a minute, or a dobash, or whatever goes by and he hears steady, rapid footsteps approaching as the door slides open and Shiro is there. "Keith! Are you okay?" he says, concern and panic in his voice.

"I have a date with a guy," Keith says, in a daze.

Shiro blinks. "A guy? Or the guy?"

Keith nods. "Yeah, I have a date with Lance."

"...Okay, I was going to lecture you about misusing an emergency page, but you look like you're about to–"

Keith faceplants on the floor and screams.

"That."

 

**

 

"It's okay to be nervous, Keith."

"Mrrmgh."

"You're only nervous because you really do like him, if you didn't then you wouldn't care. I know you haven't dated much, but..."

"Mrmrrgh!"

"Right, but in my experience, dates who are excited about getting to spend time with you, generally go a lot better than those that don't. Nerves are good! Acknowledge and own those nerves, and then you can move forward."

"Shirooo..." Keith groans into the couch. He'd been coaxed off the floor, but still needed to bury his face into something. Shiro puts his hand on Keith's shoulder.

"Do you want me to get your mom?"

Keith shakes his head. "She's gonna show up whenever she feels like it anyhow," he hears the door opening and closing, "see? Between her and Corn Chip I am destined to never have privacy again."

Shiro barely hides his chuckle. Keith turns to glare at him.

"Sorry, it's just. Is this Keith? That angry kid who didn't need a family? But now you have one, and I know you're allowed to complain but, I also know you're really not upset at all," Shiro grins. "You are secretly loving all this attention and lack of privacy."

Keith smirks. "Is it that obvious?"

"It's our secret," Shiro winks, then looks up at Krolia. "What's going on?"

"Better vantage point," Krolia says and ducks out of Keith's window. Both he and Shiro leap up from the couch to go check on her.

Krolia is holding on to the side of the villa's facade with her claws, she points their gaze below.

Lance is outside, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the villa. Keith can't make out what he's saying, but it looks like he's having an argument with himself. There's moments when he pulls at his hair, or gestures madly with his arms and Keith isn't sure how to feel. Is he nervous too? Angry?

Lance answers that question for him by punching a column with his right hand, and then curling his fist into his chest, wincing in pain.

"Lance!" Keith shouts, all nervous energy leaving him and adrenaline boosting him to jump out of the window, grabbing at the same piece of facade. Then he's leaping onto the second-level balcony, and shimmying down the side of the columns to land in front of Lance. 

"Are you okay!? Let me see your wrist," he takes Lance's right wrist in his, trying to feel if anything's dislocated.

"Did you... fucking parkour down the... fuck..." Lance says.

Keith lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't feel anything out of place, where are you on the pain scale? 1-10?"

Lance snatches his hand away. Then laughs quickly. "I'm fine! Sore knuckles, don't know my own strength! Ha!" he's smiling, but Keith still feels that something's up.

"Are you sure?"

Lance waves it off with his still-bandaged left hand. "Don't make a fuss, I'm fine. So are we doing this or...?" He looks over his shoulder at Keith.

"Oh, right. Right!" Keith clears his throat. "Yeah, dinner."

Lance nods. "So do you need to go get your jacket?"

Keith's eyes go wide. "It broke."

"Corn Chip?"

"I um, ripped the sleeves," Keith says out of the side of his mouth, crossing his arms reflexively.

Lance's face falls flat. "Right. Two tickets to the gun show, thanks Keith."

"Huh?"

"Just go borrow one of Shiro's or something."

Keith looks back up at the window to his room. Shiro at least has the decency to turn around and pretend not to stare while Krolia watches them with a rather bored expression.

"I don't think I'm getting back in that room anytime soon. They're gonna think I'm bailing."

Lance snorts. "Aw, Keith has two moms now."

"Pretty much. Or Keith has a mom-friend and an actual mother with a limited grasp on boundaries."

There's a crack in the air and the telltale sound of Corn Chip zapping into his space, landing at Keith's feet. "And the wolf makes three," Lance adds.

"Corn Chip, no! Back upstairs!" Keith tries snapping his fingers like Krolia, but he just braces his paws against Keith's chest and starts licking his face.

"Well dang, I've never had an actual chaperone on a date before! At least my siblings had the decency to try and hide the fact that they were following me," Lance pets Corn Chip on the head and starts walking. "Let's go, night isn't getting any younger."

Corn Chip barks and follows Lance as he quickly walks away. Keith takes one last look up to his window where Shiro is giving him a thumbs up and Krolia is drinking tea and narrowing her eyes, ordering him to follow Lance.

"Right, I'm coming," Keith says jogging a bit to catch up with them.

"You're sure about not wearing a jacket? It gets cold here at night," Lance asks.

Keith shrugs. "I'm fine. I run hot."

Lance tsks, "...too easy," he says almost quiet enough for Keith to miss.

 

**

 

The streets get narrower as Keith follows Lance and his wolf, expertly weaving their way through the crowds of the marketplace. Eventually it's the three of them squishing together on the sidewalk as Lance rattles off another list of reasons Keith should rename his pet.

Keith rolls his eyes. "You can call him Mazzy if you want, I just dunno if he'll answer to it?"

"Oh he'll answer to it," Lance says as they stop to allow some vehicles to pass them. He crouches slightly to get eye-level with the wolf and grabs his face.

"Mazzy, Mazzy, your name is Mazzy now, I'll spoil you on so much bacon and Serrano ham when we get to Earth, Mazzy..."

Corn Chip makes a confused sound and Lance releases his face so they can continue walking forward. Lance tugs Keith to the right and they dip in-between two buildings, the street pavement is cracked and well-worn but changes to smooth cobblestones when they pass through into an new district.

It's louder here, people from all different worlds walk down the streets talking animatedly and shouting to one another. All the buildings and streets have been built around a circular path, and in the middle is a body of still, dark water. There's paper lanterns bobbing in the water, and tiny lights on strings overhead, they glow orange and purple and cast the area in soft, evening light. Keith hears music shift as they walk past different buildings, they look a little like restaurants, but not quite?

"This is, some kind of bar district?" Keith says, piecing the information together. 

"Ahh, nightlife," Lance sighs. "You sound surprised? I always try to find the bars whenever we're on a new planet. Haven't I told you my theory of why bars are the best places to go when you're traveling between worlds?"

Keith shakes his head.

"Really? Okay well number one, It will alleviate boredom. I mean, that's pretty self-explanatory, right? Always something new to see or someone to meet or something interesting to hear."

Keith nods, matching Lance's pace as he slows to continue listing his reasons.

"Number two, you'll get a better sense of who people really are, not just what they put on for show," Lance grins. "There was this really stuffy group we had at one of the Voltron shows that like, stayed in their seats and just politely clapped. But when I went out that night, all their bars were like, crazy hanging from the ceiling raves! So cool."

Lance looks up to the sky, eyes catching the little purple lights and Keith bites his cheek to stop a gasp at how beautiful he is in the moment.

"Sorry, just got lost there. Anyway! Number three, alcohol sterilizes things, so it's safe! I mean, if you think about it, you're putting weird foreign substances in your body by just breathing on a different planet. Especially microbes, can't forget the microbes, Keith. So I think it's actually way healthier to make sure you visit a bar at least once when staying on a different planet."

"That... makes a little sense," Keith hesitates. "Wait, you drink? I thought you just turned 18?"

Lance shrugs. "Yeah. You don't?"

"I was only 18 when we left Earth."

Lance scoffs, then pauses. "So?"

"It's illegal?"

"Seriously?"

"It's illegal, and I was squatting in a house that didn't exactly belong to me and making homemade explosives in the basement to break into the Garrison and find all their intel on Shiro, so I didn't want the attention from cops pulling me over or ID-ing me in a bar."

Lance raises his eyebrows. "Mmm, yeah that makes sense."

"Guess we all can't be rebels like you sneaking into bars and drinking," Keith laughs and Lance gives him a look.

The look of a cat that has gotten into all the cream, to be exact.

"Keith, whatcha think the legal age to drink in Cuba is?"

"This is a trap."

"Absolutely."

"...18?" Keith guesses. Lance shakes his head.

"16, but my sister has been letting me have beer since I was younger than that, as long as it wasn't on an empty stomach," Lance moves to stand in front of Keith. "Hey, should I do the honor of buying you your first legal drink when we're back on Earth?"

"Are you gonna be this smug about it?"

"I can't believe you thought I was some kind of alcohol-smuggling, bootlegging criminal making bathtub gin at the Garrison or something! Meanwhile you're over here, a virgin," Lance pokes Keith's chest with his finger.

An incredulous noise comes from Keith, it's like a squawk or something close.

"Oh, I meant a drinking virgin. Did I bash a couple birds with that rock, as your Mom would say?"

Keith feels his cheeks burning, "So is that it for your theory of bars or whatever?" he says, refusing to meet Lance's gaze.

"No, there's one final, incredibly important advantage you gain when you seek out the nightlife district of a new planet. You will find..." Lance tugs Keith's arm down, getting his attention back. "Street food magic!"

He then whips around to gesture to where they've stopped walking. There's vehicles and carts of new, interesting and weird-looking foodstuffs. The air smells strange and warm and Keith feels himself salivating because as odd as things look, there are smells that he finds himself drawn to.

"It's a known fact that drunk food is the best food. Find where people are eating when they're drunk, and you will find the greatest things to eat. Hunk and I have sampled everything already, and he uses his own algorithm to determine the best of the best. Here, get in line," Lance says as he walks towards one of the food-trucks and joins the line of hungry bar-hoppers.

"You've tried everything here?"

Lance nods his head. "Well, the safe stuff."

"How do you know what's safe to eat?"

"When it comes to alien foodstuffs, I always trust Hunk's nose. But if he's not around, I just rub it on my gums like I'm a cop testing drugs on tv."

"Does that really work?"

"Nah, it just looks badass," Lance winks and tries to give him finger guns but winces in pain. "I'm fine!" he says before Keith can respond.

"Next!" one of the Coleoideans running the food truck calls out. "'Lo, Lance," they say, recognizing him.

"Hey Nautashyl!"

"Y'wan th' usual?"

"Make it a double-order. The grumpy-looking guy behind me is paying. Well, his Mom is paying, we're on a date. It's weird. Not the Mom-paying thing, the date thing is weird. I mean it's a long story, didn't I tell you last time about–"

Nautashyl looks up at Keith with tired, half-lidded eyes. "Does 'ee over-share like this to ya too? Or is't yer species that can't go a tick w'thout talkin' 'bout themselves?"

Keith sighs, taking out his wad of gak to pay for their dinner, "No, Lance over-shares." 

"Excuse me!?"

 

**

 

"There!" Lance points to an empty bench in the middle of the streets, facing the water. He shoves the paper bags into Keith's hands and takes off to claim the spot, long legs running and Corn Chip following with a bark, zapping to meet Lance at his chosen spot.

Lance is petting his wolf, whispering "Mazzy, Mazzy, Mazzy..." to him again when Keith joins, sitting at Lance's left side. He hands one of the paper bags to Lance who takes it with a grin. "Prepare yourself for true deliciousness," he says, opening his bag and throwing a small, round something into his mouth, munching happily.

Keith opens the bag and looks inside. There's an assortment of small, ovoid white things. "What are these?"

"D'mph'ns," Lance says through his mouthful.

Keith picks one up, squeezing it gently as it gives a little in his hand. It's about the size and weight of a clementine, and feels just as squishy. He bites in carefully, and his mouth is suddenly filled with chewy textures and delicious flavors he's never had before.

"Ohhh, dumplings!"

"Thass wha' I said!" Lance swallows. "Ooh that was a salty one, should've bought a water pouch."

"Mmm, not that salty, I thought that one was more earthy. Like that cooked bamboo stuff in ramen," Keith says.

Lance nods. "Ah that's the weird veggie one. They're mixed, but I think I've figured out the little symbols they put on 'em," Lance shows Keith one of his, and on the bottom there's an alien symbol stamped into the dumpling skin, Keith must have missed that before.

"See this one is a sweet one," he bites through half, "Mmm, 'slike honey and fruit."

"Nice," Keith takes a few out, holding them to Lance, "Which one should I try?" 

He looks over Keith's hand, pointing to one. "That one for sure." 

"Okay," Keith bites down, "so–oh! Oh my god!" It's filled with something he could swear tastes exactly like his favorite french fries, down to the crispy texture of the insides.

"Just like fries with ketchup, yeah? That's your favorite food right?" Lance says, picking another up, turning it over to study the symbol.

Keith nods. "Can I go back and get a bag of just those?" Lance laughs as Keith takes another from his bag.

"Careful with that one it's–" Lance sighs, "–nevermind. I'll go get us some napkins and water," he stands up, jumping over the back of the bench.

Keith is mid-bite of a dumpling that tastes like maple syrup and cotton candy, when he looks down at his hand, which is dripping with liquid glitter.

"The hell?" Keith takes out his knife and looks at his reflection in the shiny blade. His mouth is covered in silvery, sparkly glitter and metallic shimmering goop. He looks at Corn Chip who is sniffing the bag Lance left behind and whining. 

"Clean-up crew!" Lance appears over his shoulder and hands him a water pouch and some napkins.

"Thanks, I look like I drank a bottle of nail-polish," Keith says, wetting a napkin and wiping at his face.

Lance laughs. "Pidge said it looked like I was blowing a unicorn when that happened to me. Hey, down boy," Lance says to the wolf begging for a scrap.

"If there's a meat one we can give it to him?" Keith says.

"You feed him at the same time you eat? No wonder he's going nuts," Lance shakes his head, tearing up a dumpling in his hand and showing it to Corn Chip. "Y'want? Y'want it? Yeah you do, go!" he throws it high and far.

"He doesn't really–" Keith watches as Corn Chip zaps himself across the street to catch the dumpling in his mouth and zaps back to Lance in an instant, tail waggling happily. "–fetch."

"Could've fooled me," Lance says, "but that doesn't really count. That was a treat."

"Yeah, I tried to teach him to fetch back on the space whale in the quantum abyss for two years. He never got it."

Lance raises his eyebrows. "Mazzy, that sounds like a challenge, doesn't it?" he stands up, tears off a piece of the paper bag and crumples it into a ball. "Lookit! Lookit the ball Mazz!" Lance says excitedly, jumping around, holding the ball to "Mazzy" and moving it back and forth. The wolf gets into it, wagging his tail and matching Lance's enthusiasm. 

"Yeah you want it! You want it! You gonna bring it back to me, huh? Okay? Okay! Okay, fetch!" Lance shouts launching the paper ball over the waterfront. 

Keith gasps as Corn Chip disappears, snatches the paper ball mid-air, and zaps back to Lance, dropping the ball from his mouth as Lance rewards him with hugs and pets.

"I spent... two years and you just..."

"What? He's an intelligent space wolf, you thought he really couldn't learn to fetch?" 

"Guess I'm not that good of a teacher," Keith huffs and crosses his arms, the wind whipping across the water, sending a chill to him. 

"I told you it gets cold at night," Lance says, shrugging out of his jacket, "Here, take this."

"I'm fine, it's not that cold," Keith feels the wind again and shivers.

"I'm not gonna freeze, you dork," Lance huffs. "Just take it."

Keith takes the jacket, putting it on slowly. "Fine, another reason for you to be mad at me," he mutters.

"Mad at you?" Lance says, popping another dumpling in his mouth. "Who says I'm mad at you?"

"Lance, you've been sniping at me, and yelling at me at every possible opportunity since I got back. More than when we first found the Blue Lion and ended up in space. You're mad at me, you constantly cut me off, and push me away and I feel like I'm walking on eggshells just trying to talk with you."

Lance blinks. "Yeah, okay, I'm mad."

Keith feels his mouth go dry. He doesn't want Lance mad at him. He doesn't want this funny, warm, handsome and easygoing guy to finally lay out all the reasons that he doesn't like him.

But he needs this settled.

"Tell me," Keith says, turning on the bench to face Lance, his wolf putting his head in his lap, sensing his ill mood.

"I thought I'd finally caught up to you," Lance starts, he looks over to Keith, nodding him on. He turns and looks straight ahead at the water. "I always felt like... I was running this race, or something. Whatever it was, you were ahead of me. You were out of my reach."

"I wasn't," Keith starts, but stops himself. "Sorry," he mumbles, Lance continues.

"Doesn't matter, because that's how I saw you. I saw you as someone running miles ahead, and I could never catch up. But then there was Voltron. And suddenly I could chase you closer. I could see you in front of me, and I wanted to just shove you down on the ground and," Lance clears his throat, "and run past you. But after Shiro left, something changed."

"When you started piloting the Red Lion?"

"Not just that," Lance narrows his gaze. "Part of that, but the other part was, I wasn't just running ahead to catch you. You were slowing down to match everyone else, you stopped seeming so closed-off all the time. It was like, here's the real Keith. He's still kind of a jerk and grumpy but he's also a big goober that can't pronounce tortilla right."

"Right," Keith smiles to himself.

"I thought I'd caught you," Lance shakes his head. "Fuck, I mean caught up to you and–" he closes his eyes. "No, I-I did mean that."

"You caught me," Keith says, and it's not a question.

"Yeah, I caught you. I finally had you with me, not miles ahead, and not just out of my reach. You were where I could see you, and I could reach out my hand and put it on your arm, and it would be real." Lance smiles, "Maybe I thought I had time to figure my shit out. There was this list I wrote, it's embarrassing."

Keith looks down at his wolf, pets him for comfort. "Lance, do you remember this morning? I think I've got you beat on embarrassment."

He nods. "It started out as a list of things that you did that annoyed me, I was just going to rank like, the top five, then ten, then twenty. By thirty it had become a list of things that you did that I thought were weird, or ridiculous, or funny," Lance takes a deep breath, "But eventually, it was a list of things I liked about you. Not just things, reasons I liked you. I wrote it and re-wrote it like five times and it kept circling back to–"

Lance pauses, his voice breaking, "Then you left."

Keith chokes on a breath, and Lance's eyes shut tightly as he's rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"You just slipped though my fingers again, like air, like you were never really there and I'd imagined all of it. I'd imagined that we could ever be friends or... something else," Lance opens his eyes and with a bitter laugh says, "I was sad at first, but then you came back and it just turned into anger, because you're not the same and I missed this window of time when I could have–"

"Could have, what?"

Lance turns to him, face backlit by bright lights as a vehicle drives past. His eyes are sad, even though he's smiling carefree as usual.

"You."

Keith lets it all hit him.

Lance likes him. Or maybe he liked him once, and now he's trying to figure it out if he still likes him, and Keith should be panicking but instead there's a calm. There's a relief that he wasn't misreading signals back then, that he and Lance could have had a different story to tell.

Or maybe, the story can finally start.

"You said I slipped though your fingers," Keith repeats. Lance nods.

Keith leans forward, taking Lance's left hand in his own, minding the bandages carefully. Laces their fingers together, squeezes slowly, just a hint of pressure into his skin.

"Does that help?" Keith whispers, feeling his mouth suddenly dry up because Lance is looking at him.

Lance is looking at him like he just pulled a star down from the sky and gave it to him.

Lance is looking at him with skin painted in paper lanterns and shimmery mica-dust on his lips from the food.

Lance is looking at him in a way that empties his stomach and makes him so hungry he burns.

Lance smiles, white teeth running over his lip and he feels himself pulled closer and closer.

Keith hears his heart beat faster but he doesn't let that fact disturb him because Shiro was right, owning that he's nervous is helping. And right now he's especially nervous because he wants to kiss Lance so much.

And he wants more dates. He wants more nights exploring planets, and markets, and bar districts with Lance at his side. He wants to hear more about his lists and all his theories and he wants Lance's voice humming in his ear when they listen to music and he wants–

He wants Lance.  

Keith closes his eyes, leaning forward.

And a sadly familiar, slobbery wet tongue slathers his face. Keith opens his eyes to see Corn Chip wedged between them, and Lance covering his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"Ugh," Keith groans. Corn Chip makes his dumb sound that's like a howl put through a blender.

"I think our chaperone is trying to tell you to be a classy gentleman and take me home," Lance says, composing himself.

"I think our chaperone has also solidified my decision to get him fixed," Keith grumbles.

"Ouch, sorry about that, Mazzy Mazzborne. C'mon," Lance laughs and he pulls Keith up with him. And that's when Keith looks down, sees their hands still woven together.

Keith smiles, allowing Lance to gently tug him along. Losing his breath when Lance absently runs his thumb along Keith's hand not once, but twice during the walk back to the villa.

 

**

 

"So, um," Lance starts. Keith knows what he's gonna say. He's been dreading it since they walked inside. He tries to hold in the pout, but can't help it.

Lance is going to want his jacket back.

(And his hand).

For a moment Keith's unsure of which would be worse. Lance's jacket is so comfortable, he thinks as he runs his fingertips along the material. Keith braces himself for when Lance is gonna break their grasp and go back to his room and–

"We should go check on the egg, right?" Lance says.

Oh. "Oh! Yeah, we definitely should," Keith nods, noting that his and Lance's hands are still connected and, god that's really good. He still wants to kiss him.

"You don't need to," Krolia interrupts, her head appearing over the back of one of the couches.

Keith drops Lance's hand like it's on fire.

"Krolia!" Keith shouts in surprise. Lance muffles a laugh behind a cough.

She yawns, "It's taken care of itself. I'm going to bed now."

Keith shakes his head, she's not getting away without an explanation and he walks after her when she stands to leave. "Were you waiting up for me?" 

She nods. "Shiro told me to. I have no idea why, I've never been so bored and I've been on undercover missions in monasteries where no-one's spoken a word for a hundred decaphoebs. However, he was very insistent on one of us doing so, and he seemed rather relieved when I agreed to."

"Wait," Lance interrupts. "The egg took care of itself?" 

Krolia nods. "At least I didn't have to watch that. Your friend Hunk threw up for nearly a varga."

 

**

 

"Wow," Keith looks down at the squiggly, blue furry nightmare. "You were right."

Lance swallows. "Jesus Christ. It's like a goat fucked a tarantula and then that found a blue dog costume and went through some kind of 'Jeff Goldblum in The Fly'-style mutation to meld it all together."

"An abomination."

"Six legs! How do you even get six legs from two four-legged animals? Oh god, I think it has two tongues. Gross.

"Those irises look like scrambled eggs. Or rose petals. I honestly can't tell." 

Lance turns to Keith. "Rose petals?"

"Like, they kind of unfold on top of each other outwards," Keith demonstrates stacking his hands on each other and splaying them.

"Right, yeah I kinda see it. I mean I don't wanna see anything but, yeah. Roses for eyes. Other than that. Complete abomination."

Keith nods. "Abby for short."

Lance gasps, gently slapping Keith on his arm. "Look at you, coming through with a decent name, finally!"

Keith ducks his head. "Yeah?"

"Well, you were due."

"Thanks, Lance," he rolls his eyes.

Lance turns back to the frail, wobbly creature, holding out the bottle of Kaltenecker's milk so they can drink. "Welcome to the universe, Abby Rose. It's really fucking weird, but then again, so are you."

Abby makes a sound like the bleating undertones of nails running down a chalkboard and both Lance and Keith hiss in discomfort.

 

**

 

There's a knock at Keith's door in the morning. He's already awake, brewing tea for both him and Krolia. She wouldn't knock though, and the only other person that knows his door is always unlocked is Shiro. Before Keith can ask who it is, he hears footsteps running away.

He opens the door to see Lance's music player and headphones on the floor with a note attached to it.

 

Ask your Mom if she ever slow-danced to The Song with your Pops. 200 gak says she did!! -L

P.S. Last night was actually fun kinda fun? Thanks If you Do you wan We should

Thanks. HMU if you wanna go exploring for more street food magic. :)

 

He knows what song Lance is referencing, but he's more excited about listening to it again for himself. He picks up the device and takes it inside, putting on the headphones and queuing it up. 

Keith lays down on the sofa, closing his eyes and really listening to the song, the way the guitars mix together, seeming to create swirls of sound. Images of him and Lance dancing to it come into his mind again. Maybe they move closer, noses touching and breath mixing.

He hears as Krolia lets herself in, but doesn't move from the couch or drop his big dumb smile, even as her soft footfalls approach. She runs her fingers through his hair, and he opens his eyes to see her contented face.

"Hey," he says, taking off one side of the headphones to listen to her as she sits next to him. 

"I realize I never asked you how your dinner was," Krolia sips her tea, "Shiro wants details of juice."

Keith hums, "And what did you say?" 

"I promised him nothing, and told him to hire me as his spy or move on."

Keith laughs and sits up. "He's so nosy," he takes in Krolia's expression a little more carefully. There's a glint of something in her eye. "But, for your information only."

Krolia nods and puts the mug back to her mouth.

"Lance and I said a lot of what we needed to say to each other. It answered a lot of things for me, but there are more questions and..."

"And?"

"And I think I'm going to ask him on another date. I had fun, and he had fun too. We'll see how it goes from there."

She smiles, a little hint of a fang catching her lip. It's a genuine one, he's learned to pick up on the difference between her polite or diplomatic ones and her real ones.

"I'm glad."

Keith hears the song winding down, and he taps a few buttons to play it from the start again. Then he pauses, unplugging the headphones so it will play off of the speakers of the device. 

"Oh!" Krolia gasps, her eyes slipping shut. "I love this song. It's so pretty."

Keith smiles brightly. "Wait, you know this song?"

Krolia nods, covering her mouth, she must be smiling just as hard as he is.

"Damn, there goes 200 gak," Keith says with a laugh. "So, when you were on Earth, you and my Dad slow-danced to it, yeah?" 

"What?" Krolia shakes her head. "Oh no, we never danced to it." 

"So you... ugh," Keith shudders. "I take it back, please don't tell me what you did with my Dad while this song was playing."

"Keith!" Krolia laughs. "Oh my, no I never heard this song while I was on Earth! Relax. I only heard it a while ago."

Keith calms down, he really didn't want to have to associate this song with anything but good memories of him and Lance and–

Wait.

"How do you know this song then?"

Krolia blinks, her mouth snapping shut.

"Erm."

"Because this song is from Earth. And I don't remember ever playing it until now because I only heard it the other night," Keith says, leaning forward, his mind spinning.

"It's possible I misspoke," Krolia mumbles and tries to stand but Keith stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

"No, no you just said you heard it a while ago. So that would mean you heard it when we were playing hopscotch through our memories of the past and the future."

"Oh, Keith, please don't ask me."

"When? When are you going to hear this song again?"

Krolia looks down, "I really shouldn't tell you."

"Why?"

"I've already said too much."

...they will play that song at my funeral, Keith!

"Mom!" the name comes frantic and unbidden from Keith. There's a silence that hangs as Keith realizes the song is over. But he's also got visions of darkness and rain and images of people in black suits and tears flowing and a shovel of dirt and–

Krolia reaches out for him, embracing him, putting his head on her shoulder.

"Please?" Keith's voice breaks.

Keith's mother leans in to whisper into his ear.

"I'll hear this song, on the day you get married."

Keith's heart beats impossibly faster, the tears he was already starting to feel welling up blink and fall down his cheeks.

"Wh-when I get married?"

"They play this song at your wedding, as you dance with your husband," Krolia looks at him, wiping the tears from his face with her thumbs. "It's a very beautiful moment. I am looking forward to it."

Keith shakes his head, fringe falling over his eyes and Krolia pushes it back. "You'll tie this all back, so we can see your handsome face, my son," she swallows.

"I'm gonna get married," Keith feels his world swirling around and back again, the adrenaline of fear bursting into bright sunshine bubbles of excitement and giddiness. 

"So, there's no way you're going to spoil who I'm marrying, right?"

"Do I really have to?"

 

**

 

Keith peers around the corner and sees Lance in the makeshift lounge, laughing with Pidge and Hunk.

He walks forward, tapping Lance on the shoulder. He looks up at Keith with a residual smile, and then stands up, facing him as Keith holds up his music player.

"Uh, you owe me 200 gak."

Lance's mouth drops open. "No way! I don't believe you, she must not have heard the right song."

"Sorry," Keith shrugs.

"No, I bet it was on the radio or something, or it was really quiet and she just didn't hear it right, let me get that," Lance reaches out to take the device from Keith.

In the moment both of their hands hold it, Keith pulls him close, pressing his lips against Lance's. There's gasps and murmuring from Pidge and Hunk, but Keith tunes it all out. He lets go and pulls away from Lance, slowly.

Lance has closed his eyes, and Keith bites down on the inside of his cheek to contain the triumphant sound he wants to make at the image of Lance dreamily swaying on his feet because of him.

He clears his throat, "Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?" Keith asks.

Lance opens his eyes. 

"Yes, I do." 

 

**

 

Five Years Later:

 

Clip clop.

Keith pulls a pillow over his head. 

Clip clop. Clip clop. CLIP CLOP CLIP CLIP CLOP. 

Keith groans. "Your grandchild wants attention."

"Before sunrise, she is your grandchild."

"...Lance this planet has three suns, that makes no sense."

Lance sits up. "Okay, we are adding 'marathon Disney movies' to the list." he gets out of bed and picks up Abby Rose from where she was clip-clopping impatiently on the floor. The fluffy little half-cow, half wolf, trots a circle around the sheets before finally zapping herself over to where Mazzy sits dutifully at the end of their bed. She nestles in next to him, and he curls his tail instinctively around his daughter.

"You can do that, but you still haven't mastered teleporting on to the bed?" Lance smiles, "She has the stubbornness of her mom, that's for sure. Did you update the list?"

Keith frowns, turning over and grabbing a data pad. It seems like each time the team returns to Earth, Lance's lists of things that he wants to do gets longer and longer. 

"Lance it's so long already, we're not gonna have enough time."

"You lived on a space whale for two years and accomplished nothing, how long did it take me to get Mazzy-Mazz to fetch?"

Keith grumbles. "Fine, but you're probably gonna have to combine some to save time."

Lance peers over his shoulder, first kissing the scar on his cheek, making Keith flush. 

"Okay, we can maybe just cut it down to the Disney renaissance that started in '89. And I guess I can multitask a couple of these," Lance says, tapping his list and combining bullet points.

"Maybe I can help with some of them?"

"Yeah, but you're still banned from Mom's kitchen."

"The eyebrows grew back!"

"That's still not the point, Sparky," Lance winks and clicks his tongue.

"I can help with this one, 'Grandpa storage locker', are you cleaning it out or–"

"No!" Lance says very sharply. Mazzy and Abby look over at him, shocked at his sudden outburst. Lance composes himself and pulls the data pad closer to his chest, blocking Keith's view. "That's uh, that's on the wrong list. Hold on, I'm fixing it."

Keith raises an eyebrow. "How many different lists do you have right now?"

"Right now? Only three."

"Three?"

"Well there's the 'stuff-I-want-to-do-if-there's-time'-list, then the stuff I have to do, and a separate list for the beach night we're having in Varadero. Y'know all the stuff we have to bring, who's cooking what, permits for the bonfire, the playlists for the music, et cetera..."

Keith groans, and shrinks back into the bed. "I can leave early from that, right?"

"You won't want to," Lance smiles, "trust me. It's not like a big stupid coalition gala where you don't know anyone and have to shake hands with a bunch of suits until you crack and I have to fake food poisoning or something so you have an excuse to leave."

"Because you're the best boyfriend in the universe," Keith sighs, reaching his hand up to cup Lance's face.

Lance smiles and turns to kiss his palm, "Only because I have the greatest boyfriend of all time, so I have to keep up. Anyway, it's going to be a private affair, space-family and Earth-family only."

"Should I ask Krolia to not resort to physically fighting your brothers if they start teasing you?"

Lance scoffs. "No, you should encourage her to physically fight them, that is literally my favorite thing about your Mom."

"Seriously?"

"Well, besides her son. I'm pretty into the dude. He's got this sexy face scar and he's all dark and brooding and sleeps with a knife under his pillow, but he turns into a cuddly sap when I touch his fun bits." 

Keith laughs and snorts suddenly, claps his hand over his mouth when Lance gives him a shit-eating grin. "Please stop calling them 'fun bits'."

"Oh my gosh, make that sound again first, it's like a cat sneeze! Fun bits, fun bits, fun biiiits," he chants, poking Keith in the sides as he squirms and yelps. Mazzy and Abby disappear from the room with a quick blink into the ether, likely to find a quieter place to sleep. They've learned from experience to leave before things get too intense between their self-appointed guardians.

Keith keeps laughing and Lance follows until they're spent, breathing heavy, arms wrapped around each other lazily. Keith pillows his head on Lance's shoulder, kissing his neck and Lance's other hand moves over to finger-comb through his hair. 

"I promise I won't try to leave early. But if I suddenly decide my appendix is bursting, you have to let me go."

"I'll fake-drive you to the hospital myself if Krolia suplexes my stupid brother-in-law back to Miami."

"I'll ask my Mom about it," Keith says through a yawn as he drifts back to sleep.

 

**

 

From Lance's Data Pad:

 

Encryption 0728.1023 MUST DO LIST - PRIVATE!!

  • Grandpa's storage locker (find ring!!)
  • Resize at jeweler? (K is 8.5)
  • Subtle hint drop my ring size is 11 (bc I am taller once again haha screw you half-galra third growth spurts wtf?!)
  • Beach night!! (send invites)
  • Teach team Single Ladies dance (even Pidge she is not getting out of this)
  • BRIBE PIDGE
  • Think up reason to ask K for advance on stipend that isn't "Bribing Pidge"
  • Offer body to K for advance on stipend WTF THIS IS NOT A "CONFLICT OF INTEREST" OR "ABUSE OF POWER" I AM YOUR SECOND IN COMMAND YOU ADORABLE IDIOT
  • Ask Coran to see paladin charter and check?? FUCK
  • Offer body to K to re-write paladin charter Try again on honeymoon when he's drunk and well-fucked >:D
  • Borrow bribe money from Krolia bc K getting nosy
  • I HAVE BEST FUTURE MOM-IN-LAW!! XD
  • Apologize to Matt for scaring his sister (wtf I am marrying such a dorkface the death threats were clearly a JOKE also how the hell did they trace it to me?)
  • Change passwords & re-encrypt all the things (Stop reading my stuff Pidge I already promised you're exempt from the dance number)
  • Big grill for beach night (Hunk & Mom cook-off!!)
  • Book spa day to de-stress in case I can't sleep night before
  • Designate cameraman for proposal! (Coran, Matt or Pidge??)
  • Get a new very durable vid camera. (Waterproof? Spray w/ Altean repellent?)
  • Ask Krolia for blessing
  • Ask Shiro for permission to ask Krolia
  • Ask Allura to talk to Shiro so he'll stop crying omg he's gonna blow my cover :(
  • Call spa & add Allura as +1
  • Get pet-sitters (Lord have mercy on their souls)
  • Marry best guy in universe (!!!!!!!)
  • Be best husband of all time

 

 

Notes:

Mazzy Star - Fade Into You

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading. Once again, I am so sorry to Kaltenecker. D:

My tumblr is emphasis-all-mine if you wanna say hi. :D