Archive of Our Own ^beta

Moonlight illuminated the ground, casting a silvery glow over the night sky. Lance walked alone, unsure of where he was going, letting his feet carry him as he lost himself in thought. His steps shuffled, dragging against the concrete just when he thought he was getting better, he felt himself spiraling again. Stopping beneath a lamp post, he looked up at the stars with a deep sigh, wondering what he could do. He didn’t want to be alone. Pulling out his phone, he lazily swiped through his contacts. Should he call Shiro? He’d always been smart and offered fatherly advice, but Shiro was busy with work—and it was so late. Maybe not. There was no way he could ask Keith for help the guy couldn’t even figure out his own feelings, and we all knew he wasn’t the best at that anyway. Hunk was probably dead asleep. With a sigh, Lance pressed on Pidge’s number. “She’s up, right?” he asked himself before hitting call. The phone rang for a few moments before she picked up. “Lance? Hey, it’s like 2 AM. Are you okay?” Her voice was a mix of worry and alertness, as if she hadn’t gone to bed yet. Lance took a deep breath before speaking into the phone. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I come over for a bit? If that’s okay…” He tried to sound casual, but the tears threatening to spill made his voice shaky. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and the weight of his emotions pressed down on him. Pidge, perceptive as always, picked up on the shift in his tone. “Yeah, of course, Lance. Come over,” she replied quickly, her voice laced with concern. “Is everything alright?” Lance hesitated, grappling with the urge to confide in her. “I just... I really need someone to talk to. I’m not okay.” The admission felt heavy, but also a relief. “Take your time. I’ll be here,” Pidge assured him. He could hear her moving around, likely getting ready for his arrival. “Just text me when you’re close. As he ended the call, a mix of gratitude and anxiety surged through him. He knew Pidge would listen, that she would understand in ways he hadn’t expected. He wiped at his eyes, trying to steady himself, and began to walk again, this time with purpose. The night air felt cooler against his skin, and with each step, he hoped that maybe this visit could bring him the comfort he so desperately needed. When he arrived at her place, he hesitated for a moment at her doorstep, feeling the weight of his fears. But as soon as she opened the door, her warm smile and open expression melted some of the tension. “Hey, come in!” she said, stepping aside to let him in. The familiar scent of her apartment, a mix of old books and wood, she wrapped around him like a hug.

As he crossed the threshold, he knew he was in the right place. She led him into her kitchen, a cozy space filled with the soft glow of warm lights. “Sit, I’ll make some coffee,” she said Softly, pulling a chair out from the counter for him. As Lance took a seat, he watched her move with purpose, her familiar energy putting him at ease. He noticed her reaching for the caramel-flavored coffee—a favorite of his that she’d remembered. How did she hold onto such a small detail? It warmed him, a reminder of their friendship. “Thank you for letting me come over so late. I’m not bothering you, am I?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. Pidge turned around, leaning against the counter as the coffee brewed, her expression thoughtful. “No, not at all. I was just looking over some blueprints and data. Besides, if I wasn’t your more important meeting, what kind of friend would I be?” She flashed him a reassuring smile, her sincerity evident. Lance felt a small smile tug at his lips in response. “Okay, thank you again,” he said, feeling a little lighter. As the aroma of brewing coffee filled the air, he allowed himself to relax a bit more, grateful for her unwavering support. This was exactly what he needed—a safe space to let down his guard, where he could finally confront the feelings he’d been hiding. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Pidge asked gently, her eyes searching his. “You know I’m here to listen.” Lance took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’m getting there,” he replied, his voice steadying. “But I think I really need to talk about her again. His voice steadied, though his hands fidgeted in his lap. "But I think I really need to talk about her again," Lance admitted quietly, referring to Allura, his gaze drifting away as if the memories were too painful to confront head-on. Pidge, who had been leaning against the counter, noticed the shift in his expression and moved closer. Her eyes softened as she watched him, sensing the weight of what he was about to say. "That's okay," Pidge replied gently. "Talk as much as you need. I'm here, and I'll listen." She slid into the seat next to him, her hand resting softly on his back in a gesture of comfort. Lance took a deep, shaky breath, feeling the ache of Allura's loss constricting his chest. It hurt just to think about her, let alone speak her name. But he knew, deep down, that the pain would never truly fade if he kept it all locked inside. Mustering the courage, he finally turned his gaze toward Pidge, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lance’s voice wavered slightly as he began. “I think about her every day... how she was always so strong, so selfless. Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to let go of what happened. But it’s not just Allura, Pidge. It’s everything. Space… it changed me." His fingers tightened, curling into fists on his lap. "I used to think that being out there, fighting, would make me a hero. That maybe all of it would give me purpose." He paused, swallowing hard, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "But after everything we've seen, the battles, the loss… it just feels empty. Like all the stars in the universe couldn’t fill this hole. Some nights, I even miss the simplicity of Earth, where everything felt… smaller. Manageable." His eyes flicked up to meet hers briefly before shifting away again. "But it’s not just space I’m struggling with. It’s me. I thought I had it all figured out, but the more we fought, the more I realized how lost I really was." Pidge listened in silence, her hand still a steadying presence on his back. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weight of years spent in the void of space, fighting battles that had stripped away parts of his soul. And there was something else, something Lance wasn’t saying yet. he inhaled shakily, and for the first time that night, looked directly at her. "And then… there’s you." His words were quiet, almost hesitant, as if he hadn’t fully meant to say it aloud. "You’ve always been there for me, Pidge. Even when I couldn’t figure myself out, you never judged me. You just… stayed." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and buried feelings. Lance broke the stillness, his voice trembling now, "I guess… maybe I’m scared of losing you too. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here." He chuckled softly, though it was tinged with sorrow. "Hell, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore." Pidge's eyes widened in surprise as Lance confessed that losing her was one of his greatest fears. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat, unable to process the weight of his words. She had always been close with Lance and Hunk—family in every way that mattered—but she had never imagined that he harbored such a deep fear of losing her. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, and the realization that he felt this way hit her harder than she expected.

Her mind raced, but she knew one thing for certain: she couldn’t promise that she’d never leave, because no one could predict the future. The thought stung, and for a brief moment, she felt that uncertainty clawing at her heart. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Lance, pulling him into a tight embrace. It wasn’t the kind of hug she usually gave him—it was deeper, desperate even, like she was holding on as if this moment might be their last. Lance stiffened in her arms at first, surprised by the sudden closeness, but then he relaxed, his head resting against her shoulder as he allowed himself to sink into the comfort she offered. “Lance,” Pidge whispered, her voice quiet but filled with conviction, “I can’t promise that nothing will ever happen, or that I’ll never have to go. None of us can see what’s ahead." She paused, tightening her hold on him. "But I swear, no matter where I am—whether it’s in person or in your thoughts—I’ll always be here for you. You’ll never be alone.” Her words hung in the air, laced with both truth and the silent fear that came with the unknown. Lance’s hands hesitantly moved to rest on her back, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself feel something other than the numbness space had left behind. “Thanks, Pidge,” he muttered softly, his voice barely audible against her shoulder. “I think… I needed to hear that.” They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, neither one needing to say more. The soft beeping of the tea maker broke the silence, signaling that the tea was ready. Pidge rose from her seat, quietly making her way over to pour two cups. As she watched the steam rise, she couldn’t shake the deep worry and sadness she felt for Lance. She knew the ache of losing someone—even though she’d only thought she lost her brother Matt for a few moments, those had been the longest, most painful minutes of her life. The idea of Lance feeling that kind of loss every day for years tugged at her heart. With a steadying breath, Pidge turned back to him, carrying both cups carefully. She handed one to him, her fingers lingering on his for a brief moment before she reached out, her hand finding its way to his hair. Gently, she ran her fingers through it, giving it a soft, affectionate ruffle, her expression melting into a small smile. “Here you go,” she murmured, her voice warm and soothing. “I know it’s not much, but tea always seems to make things a little better. Even just for a minute.” Lance looked down at the tea, then back up at her, a hint of warmth creeping into his tired eyes. Her small gestures, the gentleness in her voice—it all reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that someone was here to share even the quietest, most fragile moments with him.

Lance took a careful sip of the tea, savoring the warmth that spread through him, easing some of the tension in his chest. The pain he’d been carrying for so long felt a little lighter, as if, for the first time in a long while, he could breathe without the ache of loss gnawing at him. Glancing at Pidge beside him, he felt a different warmth—one he hadn’t fully acknowledged before—settle quietly in his heart. She’d grown, he realized, her hair now reaching her shoulders, framing her face in a way that made her look… different. Beautiful, in a way he hadn’t stopped to notice before. He watched her quietly, a gentle smile on his face as he took in the little details: the way her brow furrowed slightly when she concentrated, the determination in her eyes, and the soft but steady strength she always radiated. Pretty, he thought to himself, and smart, and cool. As he continued to watch her, he felt something shift inside him, a new heartbeat quickening, one he hadn’t expected but found himself unable to ignore. After a long moment of quiet, Lance finally broke the silence, his voice soft but sincere. “Hey… I really want to thank you for staying up and letting me come over,” he said, glancing at her over the rim of his cup. His usual cool facade had slipped, leaving him vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. Pidge looked at him, her smile soft and warm. “No need to thank me,” she replied, her tone light but heartfelt. “You know you can come over whenever you need—even if it’s just for the dumb stuff.” Her reassurance held a warmth that eased the last bit of tension in him. Lance chuckled, setting his cup down as he took in her words. “Well, you say that now, but one day I might test that offer.” His gaze lingered on her, his expression gentle and grateful. He couldn’t quite put his feelings into words, but he knew that in this quiet, ordinary moment, he felt something rare and irreplaceable: a sense of home

Lance grinned, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned back against the couch, his cool demeanor slipping back into place for a moment. “Oh, is that so? Even if I just come over to annoy you at 3 a.m. because I can’t sleep, or if I need someone to taste-test my new ‘legendary’ snack combos?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure you’re ready to sign up for all that, Pidge?” Pidge laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please, I’ve put up with worse from you. Besides, who else would keep your ego in check?” She gave his shoulder a light shove, her smile lingering as she looked at him, unbothered by his teasing. Her words struck a chord with him, though he couldn’t quite explain why. Lance looked at her, his grin fading slightly as he took her in. She’d been there through everything—the battles, the long nights, the doubts he never dared voice aloud. Somehow, she’d always seen through the mask he put on, the ‘cool guy’ act he used to keep people from seeing the cracks underneath. And now, sitting here with her, he felt it: something deeper than friendship, a pull he hadn’t noticed until now. His heart beat faster, a mix of surprise and warmth filling his chest. “Y’know, I’m starting to think you’re the only person who could put up with all my dumbness.” His voice was softer, tinged with something he hadn’t meant to let slip. But he didn’t pull it back; instead, he held her gaze, the realization settling in. This wasn’t just friendship, he realized. Not for him. He’d spent so much time looking for someone who could see the real him, and she’d been right here all along. Pidge tilted her head slightly, catching the change in his tone. There was something different about the way he was looking at her now, and it made her heart skip a beat. She let out a quiet laugh, aiming to keep things light, but there was a softness in her eyes that matched his. “Oh, believe me, I’ve got a whole list of dumb things I’m prepared for, Lance. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re close to someone. You get used to their quirks, their ‘legendary’ snacks, their cheesy one-liners…” She trailed off, her gaze steady, her smile gentler than usual. She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her words. “But… maybe that’s not all it is.” She looked away for a second, collecting her thoughts. “Maybe there’s more to why we’re both here, right now. Why I can’t imagine not being here when you need me.” The words hung in the air, soft but filled with unspoken meaning. As she looked back at him, Lance felt his pulse quicken, realizing she might feel the same way.

The two of them sat in the quiet stillness, eyes locked, as the warm glow from the floor lamp cast soft shadows around them. Lance found himself studying every detail of her face—the gentle curve of her smile, the way her eyes seemed to reflect something deeper. His heart was pounding, and for once, he wasn’t able to hide it behind a joke or a smirk. “W-what do you mean?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to understand exactly what she meant, to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted the unspoken warmth between them. Pidge’s expression softened, and she took a breath, her gaze never wavering. “I mean… that maybe there’s a reason we’re both here, like this, right now,” she said quietly. “That maybe it’s not just about being friends who help each other. It’s about us—how much we mean to each other. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else, Lance.” She reached out, her fingers brushing his hand. "So… maybe there’s more here than either of us realized." Lance’s heart skipped yet another beat as he glanced down at her hand resting on his, her touch warm and steady. When he looked back up and met her gaze, a blush crept across his cheeks as the realization sank in. She likes me! The thought sent a thrill through him that he hadn’t felt in ages. “When… when did you start feeling that way?” he asked, his voice barely hiding the mix of excitement and nervousness. He searched her face, wondering how long she had felt this way, and why he’d never seen it until now. Pidge smiled, a hint of color warming her cheeks as well. She looked down for a moment, as if gathering the courage to answer. “Honestly? I’m not sure exactly when it happened. Maybe somewhere between all the crazy missions, or during one of those long nights just talking… Or maybe it was always there, and I was just the last one to figure it out.” She met his eyes again, her expression open and vulnerable. “But the more time we spent together, the more I realized that… I just didn’t want to imagine doing any of this without you. You’re more than a teammate to me, Lance.” Her words hung between them, the quiet confession making Lance’s heart race with a kind of happiness he’d almost forgotten.

Lance felt his heart pounding, her words sinking deep and filling him with a warmth he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for so long. He let out a shaky breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her, everything finally clicking into place. “You know,” he began quietly, his voice filled with a gentle honesty, “I think… I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it—maybe I was scared to admit it. But, Pidge, I don’t want to do this without you either. You’re… everything to me.” His hand moved to gently cup her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin with a soft, careful touch. They held each other’s gaze, the world around them fading away as they both leaned in, closing the space between them. Slowly, tentatively, their lips met in a gentle kiss, filled with all the unspoken words and long-buried feelings they had finally let themselves share. When they parted, Lance kept his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he whispered, “I don’t know why it took me so long to see it… but I’m glad I did.” Pidge’s cheeks warmed as she realized this was her first kiss—something she hadn’t thought much about before, but now, with Lance, it felt just right. He might be a flirt and a bit of a goof, but there was something about him that she truly liked, something that had been there all along. As she rested her forehead against his, a soft smile spread across her face. "I agree," she murmured, a bit of laughter in her voice as she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. "It’s really late... why don’t you just stay over?” she offered, pulling back and getting to her feet, gathering their empty tea cups with a comfortable ease. Lance’s eyes lit up at her suggestion, and he grinned, feeling the warmth of her offer. “I’d like that,” he replied softly, watching her as she moved to the kitchen. For the first time in a while, he felt completely at ease, knowing he was right where he was supposed to be—by her side.

As Pidge finished putting the cups away, she waved Lance over, leading him down the hallway and into her room. Unsurprisingly, it was filled with every imaginable gadget, space model, and science kit—bits and pieces of her curious mind spilling out onto every available surface. She moved to her bed, sweeping away a pile of papers and stray parts, piling them onto her already crowded desk before turning back to him with a small, sheepish smile. "Sorry, of course, I’m a mess, as always," she sighed, remembering how even during their Voltron days, her room had been an organized chaos of projects and ideas. Lance chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped inside, taking in the familiar sight of her controlled chaos. “It’s not a mess—it’s you,” he said with a fond smile, hands in his pockets as he looked around. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.” He walked over to her, gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Thanks for letting me stay. This… really means a lot.” His hand lingered near her cheek, his eyes filled with warmth as he took her in, grateful for her and everything she was. Pidge felt her cheeks warm as Lance reached out, his touch gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. Without a word, she stepped closer, meeting his gaze as they both felt the unspoken pull between them. She leaned in, and they shared another kiss, this one deeper, filled with a quiet understanding and the warmth they’d both longed for. Pulling away, Pidge offered him a small smile, then turned to the little projector she’d set up on her dresser. She clicked it on, and instantly, soft starry lights filled the ceiling above them, creating a gentle, cosmic glow that seemed to bring the night sky into her room. She looked back at him, gesturing toward the bed. “Come on,” she murmured, sliding under the covers and making room for him. As he joined her, they settled comfortably together, their bodies fitting as if this was the way things had always been meant to be. Pidge nestled close, resting her head against his chest, and Lance wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They lay there in the quiet, surrounded by the soft glow of the stars, sharing warmth and a deep, contented silence. Lance pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his heart full. As they lay together, Pidge rested her head against his chest, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you, Lance. Wherever and whenever.” She let her eyes close, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, the sound soothing and grounding. Lance smiled down at her, his hand tracing gentle circles on her back. “Good,” he murmured, a soft chuckle escaping him as he tightened his hold just slightly. “Because now, you’re stuck with me, Katie Holt.” There was a warmth in his voice, laced with a quiet confidence that made her heart flutter. She smiled, sinking deeper into his embrace, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time. With the stars dancing on the ceiling above them, they both drifted into a restful sleep, knowing they’d always have each other, no matter what lay ahead. The two had doze off in each other arms feeling safety and security together they will be the stars.