Chapter Text
Keith was kissing him.
Keith was kissing him.
Keith was kissing him.
Lance can’t move. If he moves, he’ll wake up. Even one twitch, and all of this will vanish like smoke through his fingertips.
But then the pressure against his lips starts to lift—
Keith starts to pull back—
And suddenly, Lance doesn’t care anymore if this is all a dream, or a nightmare, or anything in between—like it always has been since the moment one mullet-haired, hot-tempered boy entered his life, Lance just can’t let Keith go.
Between one moment and the next, Lance is surging forward, burying his hands in that wonderful mop of hair he’s been dying to feel for so long—
He’s grasping Keith’s jaw, tilting Keith’s head just how he wants until their lips line up and everything is so good—
Lance pours everything into this kiss. And Keith’s hands fist in Lance’s fancy shirt, taking all of it—
All the months after he met Keith, boiling in jealousy and hurt because Keith didn’t notice him, he never noticed him, why wouldn’t he notice him when Lance was trying so hard—
Every petty jab and fight he’d started because at least if they were arguing, Keith was looking at him and wasn’t looking away—
All the months of loving Keith before Lance even realized he did, all the months after he had a name for the feeling branding his soul—
The months of after Keith left, trying to forget him and move on but Lance couldn’t, he could never—
All the days of happiness, the moments of bliss, all this week when it felt like maybe Keith could love him too—
Lance held nothing back. Not the heartbreak or the hope, the fear and the indecision, the love—everything, all of it, every bit that lead to this moment, right here, right now.
Keith makes a noise in the back of his throat (small and soft and perfect) and his hands curl even more into Lance’s shirt—his fingers touching Lance’s exposed chest on the one side, the warm shock of metal from the ring electrifying him and oh god, Lance wants to die—
He loves this man so much—
Somehow, Lance manages to pull away, leaning his forehead into Keith’s as an excuse to stay close just that little bit longer. His eyes trace every line of Keith’s face. He commits to memory every hard pant of Keith’s chest, the way Keith stands there for a moment before his eyes flutter open, instantly locking on Lance.
He memorizes all of it—keeps it close and sacred in his chest where it will taunt him ‘til the end of his days. He allows himself one last curl of his fingers into Keith’s hair, a last stroke of his thumb along Keith’s cheek. “Thank you,” he says softly, and pulls away, his hands falling from Keith’s face.
Keith’s grip stops him from going too far.
Lance’s eyes jump to Keith’s. “Wha—?”
“You should have done that the first time.”
“Wha—?”
Lance, suddenly, is sent rocking back. Because, suddenly, Keith is kissing him.
Keith crashes into him, hard. His hands fist in Lance’s hair, dragging him closer. His shoulders hunch, lips moving intense and passionate over Lance's own.
Every way in which Lance controlled the kiss before, Keith gives back tenfold. Gives, and gives, and gives.
Keith gives him everything. And so Lance takes.
He grasps Keith’s waist, pulling him in. His hands drag up and around Keith’s back to hold him fully in his arms, just so he can feel every line of Keith’s body against his. Keith gasps into Lance’s mouth, and—
What, is Lance not supposed to take the opportunity?
The way Keith responds to Lance’s tentative lick along his bottom lip—Lance wishes he could live in this moment forever. It’s not just the little, surprised half-gasp, half-hum that Keith makes in the back of his throat—it’s the way the other man completely takes over in a sudden surge of confidence and heat. He bullies his tongue, warm and wet, into Lance’s mouth, and then Lance is suddenly the one making noises.
Keith doesn’t seem to mind. Like, at all. If anything, he likes Lance’s noises (be still his beating heart) because his grip in Lance’s hair grows firmer, tugging Lance’s head back, using every, single bit of that extra post-space whale inch taller to completely devour Lance's lips.
Lance melts. Keith is kissing him—is giving him everything—and maybe if he were more mentally coherent, he’d realize something important about that. But as it is, his thoughts are nothing but a dizzying loop of Keith Keith Keith, no consideration put into his actions beyond wanting more more more.
But then Keith pulls back. Lance tries to follow, but the grip in his hair stops him. He pouts, almost going so far as to whine, but the air is stolen out of his lungs by the breathless laugh that falls from Keith’s lips. The lips that have just been kissing him, he thinks, and Lance’s brain entirely screeches to a halt.
Keith kissed him. Kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him. His breath freezes in his chest and his eyes go wide, as Keith’s hands stay in his hair, scratch strikingly against his nape; as they move down to cup around his neck, his face.
“Hey Lance,” Keith says, breathless, his eyes twinkling. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Keith?” he asks, barely daring to hope.
The answering smile he gets lights Keith’s face until it’s blinding. “I’m crazy, blow my own brains out, follow you to the ends of the galaxy in love with you, Lance. I have been for years. Since before I left.”
Lance fisted Keith’s shirt, trying to ground himself because obviously, he was dreaming, right? Right? “Keith?”
“I love you. I’m in love with you.” Keith’s head tilts until their foreheads rest together, thumb caressing Lance’s jaw tenderly. “You’re the love of my life,” Keith said softly, nuzzling his nose against Lance’s. Lance’s breath hitched, and his grip on Keith tightened even more, emotion burning in the back of his throat.
Lance tries to shake it off, because he is a man—a manly, manly man, who’s not going to cry just because Keith said those little three words he's been dreaming of for what feels like forever, and it’s so much more than anything his imagination could have prepared him for. He’s not.
Keith must know anyway, because he smirks a little, and he leans in to connect their lips again before Lance can become a huge, blubbering mess.
“Holy shit!” a voice shouted.
Keith and Lance froze; all at once reminded that they were very much not alone.
Lance turned his head to where Pidge had made her outburst, where both she and Hunk looked like they were completely losing their minds. The rest of the team had varying expressions on their faces, ranging from more surprise and shock to outright pride and joy.
“Congrats my boys! I knew you’d figure it out eventually!” Coran told them with a beaming smile.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you two!” Romelle clapped excitedly. Allura joined in, a wide smile on her face as she winked smugly at Lance.
Krolia nodded at him. “Your confession to my son was adequate,” she said. ”I approve of your courtship.” Kosmo barked as if in agreement, and Keith made a stuttering noise of embarrassment.
“This whole time!?” Pidge shouted, ignoring them all. “This whole time, you two were in love with each other, and never said anything because you were too damn oblivious to talk to each other and realize both of you felt the same way!?”
Lance blushed, and he saw Keith’s ears go red out of the corner of his eye. “Uhh…yes?” he said sheepishly.
Pidge gave them an incredulous, deadpan stare to rival even one of his mamá’s. “You two. Are. Idiots."
The rest of the group laughed. Lance groaned, ducking his face to hide it in the comfort of Keith’s neck.
Because that was a thing he could do now. Because Keith loved him back.
He couldn’t hide the giddy smile that he pressed into Keith’s skin. It grew even more splitting when Keith’s arms immediately wrapped around him, one across his back and the other in his hair, keeping Lance’s head where it was as his fingers scratched against his scalp.
How was any of this real?
“We really are idiots,” Keith chuckled against his ear, all low and husky and thrilling and Lance wants to die.
He traces his nose up and places a wet kiss against the corner of Keith’s jaw in retaliation, pleased when he hears the hitch of Keith’s breath right by his ear.
“Stop canoodling!” Pidge shouted at them. “We’re still not over this!”
“How could I not have seen it?” Hunk yelled.
“I really don’t understand your surprise,” Romelle said, shrugging at the two of them. “It’s been quite obvious since Lance drank the ovessil the first time that he was in love with Keith. You really didn’t know?”
“You did?" Pidge asked incredulously.
“Yes?” Romelle’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Lance clearly said that first time that he didn’t want everyone and their mother knowing about his feelings, and Keith is the only one who’s mother is actually here.”
Pidge gaped at her like a fish while Hunk let out a laugh, mouth opening and closing before she threw her hands up. “That’s not how it works! That’s not how any of this works! It’s a figure of speech!”
Romelle only furrowed her brows more. “But it was true…?”
PIdge turned to Hunk with a scream of frustration. “I can’t believe it! All those plans trying to set up Lance and Allura, and we could have avoided it if we’d taken a fucking idiom at its face value!”
“Hold up,” Lance said, popping his head up. “You and Hunk did what now?”
“Yes,” Allura said, shrewd gaze narrowed intimidatingly at the two. “I think that’s a very important question.”
Both of them froze like deer in headlights, remorseful guilt plastered all over their faces. Hunk anxiously shifted from one foot to the other, hemming and hawing, while Pidge stuttered nervously. “Umm—yes, well…you see—Queen Rethe!” Pidge cried, effectively drawing all of their attention to the other woman. “You still need to check Lance to make sure the bond is broken!”
Orthas happily stepped forward to do the honors, but Lance still gave them a look that said 'this isn’t over' and saw Allura do the same out of the corner of his eye. Hunk sheepishly grimaced, mouthing the word ‘Sorry’ and Pidge pouted, chagrined and chastised. Yes, Lance would definitely have words with his friends about meddling in his love life, but that could wait until later.
Orthas declared Lance blessedly bond-free, and soon led the team back to the palace healers so they could all be checked over for their injuries. Lance had a concussion (no surprise there), but the rest of the team got off with nothing more than minor cuts and burns easily fixed with advanced magic space medicine. After they’d all been cleared by the medics, Rethe sent them back to their rooms to recuperate and rest with the assurance that she, Orthas, and the rest of the Guard could more than handle the clean-up of the Zell attack themselves.
The whole time, Keith never really stopped looking at Lance—gaze only straying for a few meager seconds before inevitably snapping back once again.
Though Lance couldn’t blame him; he was doing the exact same thing. He hadn’t let go of Keith since their kiss—always keeping some part of them in contact, unwilling to let the man go and find out it really had been all just an illusion.
It was hard enough releasing his grip to let Keith go shower and change. Lance took his time with his own routine, trying to ground himself after the complete rollercoaster the night had been, using the familiar motions of washing his face and drying his hair to tell himself that everything was real. Still, by the time he was done, he was half-convinced that all of it really had been just some fever-dream fantasy.
But when Lance walked out of his bathroom, Keith was there waiting for him on his bed. He sat on the edge, gaze as intense and tangible as a physical caress on the skin as Lance crossed the room to stand in front of him.
Keith immediately took Lance’s hands, playing with his fingers. Lance couldn’t stop the smile or the heat rushing up to his face. He chuckled nervously. “You know, I just realized, I still have your glove from a week ago.” Dios, had it really only been a week?
One corner of Keith’s lips twitched up. “Give it to me later,” he said softly, pulling Lance in closer.
Lance swallowed. “You—you sure, dude? I know that they’re important to you, especially because they were your dad’s and everything—”
“I trust you to keep it safe.” Keith's tone was amused, a single brow raising in playful, unspoken question.
“S-still, maybe I should go get it, right now, before another wacko crazy dictator decides that he’s going to—to steal all my worldly possessions because I didn’t properly thank him for his Havarian vase gift, or something!”
“Lance—”
“Crazier things have happened, Keith! We should really get you back your glove before anything happens to it—”
“Lance,” Keith stated in a firmer tone, and Lance snapped his jaw shut, staring at the ground. Keith’s hands gripped his, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Lance’s skin. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “Why are you scared?”
Lance bit his lip, heart thumping in his chest. “What if this is all a dream?” he asked, voice small.
“It’s not,” Keith said.
Lance finally looked up. Keith was watching him with a warm, understanding smile. “How do you know?”
“Because my brain couldn’t cook up feeling this—perfect," Keith laughed, shaking his head. His eyes were like stars in the twilight, shining like Lance's own personal beacon. “Lance, I’m so happy right now. I’ve had so many dreams about what it would be like for you to love me back, and this is better than all of them. I couldn’t imagine this if I tried.”
Maybe Keith had a point. Hearing Keith’s confession, his kiss, it had been everything Lance had ever imagined, but Keith was right—it was so much more, too. It was more because it wasn’t a dream, or a fantasy, or anything else. It was real, and in front of him and his—his to have and his to hold—right here, right now.
Lance broke Keith’s grip, but only to lift his hands to cradle Keith’s face. Keith’s hair was still a little bit damp, like he’d been too impatient to properly dry it, not wanting to waste even a single moment to be back in Lance’s presence.
“You really love me?” Lance asked one final time, just to make sure.
And Keith—Keith looked at him like he had been all week, before Lance realized what that look meant. Keith looked at him like he was important, was precious, like Lance was the answer he’d been looking for all his life.
Keith drew him close, gentle hands guiding Lance into his lap, legs on either side of his waist. With that same gentleness, he reached up to cradle the nape of Lance’s neck, head tilting up at the same time he tilted Lance’s down until their foreheads were resting together once again.
For a moment, that’s all they did. Both of them breathing the same air, eyes closed, basking in the warmth of each other. So close, and yet not close enough.
Keith’s voice was a welcome whisper in the calm quiet between them. “I was so distant when I came back, because I was in love with you, and I was trying to let you go. I thought I could never be what you wanted—who you wanted, and that hurt." Lance soothed his thumbs across Keith’s cheeks, a silent apology. Keith’s forgiveness came in the way he gripped Lance tighter, pulled him in closer, nudged his nose against Lance’s. “I’ve loved you for years. And I was willing to wait years more if it meant I got a chance at even a fraction of this with you, because you’re worth all of it. You’re worth everything.”
Lance’s eyes fluttered open as Keith pulled back, trapped in the swirl and storm of the galaxies in Keith’s eyes staring at him so deeply. One of Keith’s hands reached up to take one of Lance’s, never looking away for even a second as he pressed a tender kiss to the back of Lance’s fingers. “You’re my choice, Lance,” he said into Lance’s knuckles—like a truth, like an oath, like salvation. Then he leaned up, pressed a short kiss to Lance’s lips, speaking into them. “My first, my last, my always.”
Lance surged forwards, emotion too big to even name spilling through every vein in his body, healing every crack that had splintered deep in his chest. He wasn’t going to cry—he wasn’t. He kissed the words right off Keith’s lips, only for both of them to groan when the force of it made their teeth clack together painfully.
Way to go, Lance. Talk about ruining the mood.
But Keith chuckled, a low vibration right against Lance’s mouth. Lance whispered a short, “Sorry,” before diving right back in—with more care this time, soothing the hurt first with his lips and then with his tongue.
Their first kiss had been all fire and emotion; intense and striking and passionate. The fire was still there, but this time, it tempered to something molten. Something soft and slow and consuming that filled Lance with a steadily simmering heat, spilling like warm honey and lighting him up like neon from the inside out. A burning devotion that spoke of love and promises, of home and future.
Him and Keith ended up not getting much rest at all, but Lance couldn’t complain, even knowing that they had work waiting for them in the morning. He’d happily take a million more restless nights with Keith, and every tired day after, for the rest of his life.
“Keith, I’m dyyyyying.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am too.”
“You look fine to me.”
“My illness may be invisible, but it is very, very real, mi vida.”
Keith ignored the shot of warmth that zinged up his spine at the pet name, so lovingly falling from Lance’s lips. “Oh, and what is this ‘very real illness’ that’s supposedly killing you, then?”
Lance dramatically pouted up at him from where he sat on one of the last boxes he was decidedly not helping Keith move into Black. “Lack of kisses from my true love.”
“Lance,” Keith said, trying to be exasperated and stern as he walked down Black’s gangplank, but really just sounding fond and lovesick as he smiled at the other man. “We’re almost done loading everything up.”
“Then you’re lucky I’ve only waited until now to say something. I don’t work for free, you know.”
Keith laughed, shaking his head. “How’s it fair to get a reward when your job isn’t even done yet?” he said, stopping in front of Lance.
“Keeeeeith,” Lance whined, looking up at him from under his lashes, irresistible and tempting.
Keith leaned in close, bracing one arm on the box by Lance’s hip, hovering his face only inches away as he hummed consideringly. “If I kiss you, will you help me finish loading up like you’re supposed to be doing anyway?” he said with a small, teasing smile.
Lance grinned victoriously. “Great idea! Best one you’ve had yet, team leader.”
Lance tilted his face up in preparation, waiting for Keith to close the scant distance between them. But Keith pulled back, prompting Lance to pout for real this time. “Keeeeith,” he whined again.
Keith just smiled at him, trailing his fingers down to catch Lance’s hand in his own. Both of them hadn’t changed from the Altixian training clothes they’d put on this morning (an unspoken decision they’d both made, to take advantage of thinner material and short sleeves while they could), and Keith was grateful for it; nothing was there to impede his touch from meeting Lance’s skin. He didn’t break his gaze from Lance’s beautiful blue eyes as he gently raised their hands, cupping his cheek with Lance’s hand and turning his head to meet his lips to Lance’s palm in a soft, tender kiss.
Lance looked at him with a gaze so open and loving, Keith wondered how he could have ever mistook it for anything else. “That’s just cheating,” Lance said. A little thrill went through Keith at how breathless those words came out. “How am I supposed to get anything done when you do things like that, huh?”
Keith’s smile was hidden in Lance’s hand, right before he licked a big, fat, slobbery stripe right up the middle of it.
“Keith!” Lance shrieked, ripping his hand away and staring at it in disgusted shock as Keith doubled over in laughter. Lance turned accusing eyes in his direction. “What the quiznak, man?”
Keith smirked at him around his laughter. “You try to get out of you doing your work, you get extra cooties, Lance. I don’t make the rules.”
“Oh I’ll show you who makes the rules, Mr. Team Leader,” Lance taunted, his arm whipping out to grab Keith and put him in a headlock. “Not so funny now, is it, tiger?”
“Lance!” Keith shouted, smile never falling from his face as they playfully grappled with each other.
“I see the load up is going well!” Coran’s voice called out from across the hangar. Their heads turned in his direction, and they both sheepishly broke away from each other under the amused look Coran sent them.
“Sorry, Coran!” Lance called back.
“We just have a few more boxes, and we’ll be done,” Keith said.
“Good to hear Number Three! I’ll let the others know!”
Keith released a sigh as Coran disappeared. “C’mon, let’s finish loading up the lion.”
He expected some pushback from Lance, more bellyaching about having to work when he didn’t have his required amount of physical affection to do so, but Lance was silent. Keith turned to him, only to find Lance staring at something on Keith’s chest.
Keith looked down, finding that their wrestling had dislodged his ring where it had been tucked away under his shirt.
Lance’s hand came up, thumbing at the piece of jewelry that was now attached to the end of the makeshift necklace Keith had made out of the broken silver string-turned-hair-tie from the ball. The milky surface lit up in a burst of color, and the sight made Keith feel like he had been lit up in color too.
“When’d you do this?” Lance questioned, smiling softly with his eyes still on the ring.
“This morning, when we were getting dressed. My gloves would’ve covered it, and I wanted you to have easy access. Also…” Keith lightly gripped at Lance’s waist, lazily drawing him closer as Lance’s eyes flicked to his own. “Every time you touch it, I can see your love for me. It’s proof that I get to call you mine. I wanted to give you something like that.” One hand covered Lance’s, pressing both the palm and the ring under it flat to his chest, right over his heart, his thumb lightly stroking across Lance’s fingers. “Every time you see this ring close to my heart, you’ll know that it’s yours. Now, and always. For as long as you want it.”
Lance stared at him for a moment. Then Keith was abruptly pushed backward by the hand on his chest, all the way until his back crashed into the hard metal of Black’s paw.
Lance was on him in an instant. Keith barely had any time to suck in any of the air knocked from his chest before Lance was kissing him within an inch of his life.
His thoughts scattered; lost to the way Lance’s hands felt like fire brands dragging up his torso and back, the way Lance’s tongue ebbed and flowed in a rhythm that made him dizzy. Even after all the kisses they’d shared last night, how was each one better than the last? Keith almost wished Lance was bad at this, if only so he didn’t feel so out of control every time Lance’s lips claimed his own.
When Lance pulled back, Keith chased after him, just barely managing to restrict the whine that rushed up right to the base of his throat.
Lance stopped their lips from connecting again, his firm grip on Keith’s jaw. “I want, Keith,” he said, the low rasp of his voice making Keith burn. But then Lance turned soft, hands no longer grabbing but caressing, gently thumbing Keith’s bottom lip, staring at him like he was something precious—“Always, mi corazón. I’ll always want you.”—and Keith ached.
Keith was cataloging all of Lance’s smiles. This one—small and soft and perfect—was his new favorite.
Lance broke into soft laughter. “It’s not fair. How dare you be more romantic than me, mullet.”
Keith smiled at him in a half grin. “Feel free to outdo me on it anytime,” he said, eyes pointedly flicking down.
Luckily, Lance got the hint and leaned back in to continue kissing him. Keith’s thoughts had just started to go fuzzy—his higher sense of brainpower vanishing with the first suck on his tongue and thumb-press into the divot of his hips—when an exasperated voice interrupted again.
“What did Coran just say? Stop canoodling!” Pidge yelled. “I told you guys it was a bad idea to leave them alone! We’re supposed to leave in less than a varga!”
“Food?”
“Check.”
“Extra crystals?”
“Check.”
“Everyone ready and in the lions?”
“Check!”
“The finest ass this universe has ever seen?”
“Lance,” Pidge groaned as laughs from the others carried through the open comm channel.
“What?”
Keith bit his lip against his smile. “Lance, stop interrupting our final checklist to brag about yourself.”
Lance’s voice was wicked and sultry in his ear. “Oh, baby, I was talking about you.”
Keith blushed, thankful that no one else but Kosmo was there with him in Black's cockpit to see it. “Not the time, Lance.”
He could practically imagine Lance’s eyes lighting up in mischief. “So there is a time later,” he purred.
“Nope!” Hunk shouted. “Nuh-uh. You know I’m, like, super happy for you guys—no doubts there—but there is a limit to what I’ll stomach over the public comm channels!”
“Oh come on Hunkster, that was barely even—”
“Paladins,” Rethe said, her image projecting onto Black’s viewport as Orthas stood beside her. “You are all clear for takeoff.”
Orthas smiled at them. “Altix once again thanks you for all you have done for us. The Cleric Order extends our personal gratitude for your invaluable aid in ridding us of the Zells and their terror.”
“Oh no problem, Orthas,” Lance said playfully, no doubt winking too. “All in a week’s work for good ole team Voltron. You really sure you don’t want us to stay and help with the rest of the Zells?”
“Quite sure, my boy," Orthas smiled back. "Without a figure in charge, the Zells are in chaos, and easily dealt with. All that’s left is to try the people who were in power, and help the ones who were manipulated and brainwashed into believing their false ideology where we can. You don’t have to worry about us.”
“Yes, it is time Voltron gets back to its primary directive,” Rethe said, a small smile on her face. “I, for one, look forward to the day you all save the universe.”
“Thanks to you and your people,” Allura said, “that day will come sooner than we could have hoped for. Voltron is indebted to you.”
“Oh, I think saving the universe we all live in will be more than enough repayment, don’t you think?” Orthas said, winking.
Rethe rolled her eyes as the rest of them all chuckled, a fond smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Go,” she said in farewell, “and know that you may always call on Altix whenever you and your allies have need of our aid.” The video feed shut out.
“Alright, team, you heard them,” Keith called out, Black’s antsy impatience an excited thrum in his veins. He tightened his grip on his controls, smirking. “Let’s go save the universe.”
Lance’s loud woop sounded in his ears as the lions roared, soaring up and out of Altix’s sky. The teams’ bright joy and relief at being back to full power filled Keith with a buzz of energy and anticipation as they set their course back to Earth.
And it was Lance’s voice in his ear, warm and excited and dripping in love, that settled Keith’s soul, that brought him peace and hope for what the future would bring.
“So, mi alma, you ready to finally go home?”
Keith smiled. Yeah, he was really looking forward to his future.
.
…
……
“Wait, hold on a second. Shiro, did Keith ever have a crush on James Griffin at the Garrison?”
“James Griffin?"
FUCK.