A/N: Mea Culpa, mea culpa! THIS is the correct story! Forgive a frazzled Bella.
He heard the other man step out onto the balcony, but didn't bother to turn around; it could only be one person. "Not in a talking mood, Lance," he said flatly, eyes never leaving the path the royal cruiser had departed on hours ago, taking Allura and him. . . no. He couldn't, wouldn't think of that yet. It would be real then.
"You rarely are, mon capitan," came the Red Lion pilot's cheerful reply. "Didn't come to talk. Just to see the sunset." Lance's hand came into Keith's peripheral vision, setting down a bottle of the Altean ale the team favored, then the man himself hopped up on the railing, blithely swinging his feet and drinking from his own bottle.
Keith grumbled. "Suppose you're out here to tell me to let it go, that I'll get over her in time and shouldn't brood about it."
"Nope." Lance popped the "p" in the word, leaning back to look at the emerging stars. "None of my business. You probably should, I know you will, and you shouldn't, but it's not my place to tell you any of it."
"Your place has never stopped you from poking your nose into things before," Keith snorted. "What's different now?"
Lance turned to face Keith, green eyes solemn. "Usual things aren't your heart being broken, brother. I'm not going to yank your chain about it. I will tell you you and Allura wouldn't have worked, in the long run."
"Thanks for the confidence, Lance." Keith took a long drink from his bottle. "I thought you were supposed to be my best friend, support me? Should've known. . ."
"Oh, shut up, Keith." Lance reached over and reclaimed his captain's bottle. "I'm cutting you off, you're already this far into a pity party." Carefully he set both bottles on the balcony floor, then pinned Keith with his gaze. "I am your best friend. I do support you, would fucking die for you if it came to that. But I never have and never will lie to you. Not even to spare your feelings or my jaw. And I'm telling you; you and Allura would not have worked." He took a breath. "I'm not saying you didn't love her. Or that she didn't at least think she love you."
"Thanks for that much, at least," Keith grumbled. "So why, since you seem to know everything tonight, wouldn't Allura and I lived happily ever after?"
"You're a pilot, she's a princess," Lance shrugged, then elaborated. "Different worlds, Keith. Different star systems, even. Outside of Voltron, you have absolutely nothing in common with her. You're older, in years and experiences. And even though you're a helluva lot more patient than I am, interstellar diplomacy would have you ready to kill someone in a week. You're a soldier, not a statesman."
"Sven and Romelle make it work," Keith countered, wincing at the plaintive note in his voice.
"Yeah, they do. But one, Romelle isn't queen, and two, Sven cut his teeth on diplomacy and politics, as you very well know."
"Hate it when you're right, McClain." Keith reached down and reclaimed his ale, downing half the bottle in one swallow.
"So do I," Lance answered, voice soft, carefully not looking at Keith. "And believe me, Keith; I'd give anything, up to and including Red, to have been wrong about this. For you and Allura to have your fairy tale. Gods know you both have earned it."
"So now what?" Keith demanded, swaying slightly as the alcohol hit his system. "First Beverly, now Allura; what the hell did I ever do for the gods to decide I don't deserve a little love and happiness?"
"Ah, Keith, my poor brother." Lance's voice held a gentleness that few ever heard. "It's nothing you did; you know that. I promise you, I swear it on Red: She's out there somewhere, the right, perfect woman for you. And you'll find her. Until then. . ." he carefully draped an arm over Keith's slim shoulders. "We're here for you; me, Hunk, Pidge, even Sven and Romelle. Our own little loving family." He smirked and kissed Keith's cheek, laughing as his commander squawked furiously.
"You're an asshole, McClain. Just go away, all right? Leave me alone, I'll make it an order if I have to."
"You can try." Lance's trademark grin appeared. "But remember, I'm not good at following orders I don't like. Anyway, I have orders that counter anything you could possibly say." At Keith's questioning look, he elaborated, "Allura took me aside last week, asked me to make sure you didn't take her marrying Davidan too hard."
"If she cared so much about my feelings, she wouldn't have married him." Keith slurred the words, having finished most of the ale. "Thought she loved me."
"You know she did. And she had no choice about marrying Davidan. Arus needs a queen, she can't be queen as a single girl, and Alfor promised her to Davidan when they were born. You KNOW all of this." Lance sighed. "I give up. We'll have this conversation later, when you're sober and not hurting quite so much." He swung around and stood smoothly. "Come on, Captain; I've got the duty soon, and I am NOT leaving you out here alone and drunk." It spoke volumes to Keith's state of mind that he gave no resistance; instead, he threw an arm around Lance and let the Red Lion pilot steer him through the corridors to his quarters.
Lance heaved a sigh of relief as he lowered Keith to his bed, grateful that they had managed not to be seen. The last thing Keith needed was to be Castle gossip fodder. Quickly he stripped Keith to his boxers, then eased his friend's relaxed body beneath the blankets before making sure a glass of water and the waste basket were handy. "Go to sleep, Keith; I'll check in on you when I get off shift."
"Y're a good friend, Lance," Keith slurred softly, burrowing into his bed. "Don' di-deserve you."
"Hell, who does?" Lance laughed, stepping to the door. "Brothers aren't something you deserve, aniki; they just are. And I'm glad you're mine. I love you." When he got only silence in response, he turned back to look at Keith, and found the commander sound asleep. Lance smiled gently and turned off the lights, heading for Castle Control.