I'm not gonna lie, I saw an amazing piece by marmorakeith on tumblr of Keith in a jacket that screamed racer to me and I died. I needed a Keith racer au, which turned into an entire voltron klance formula one story, for which I'm not even sorry :) I've kinda set the chapter length to be around 2k words, but because of that there's gonna be so many chapters lol, I guess I'm in this for the long haul!
Keith flexed his fingers against the steering wheel, readjusting his grip. The car thrummed with power beneath him, lurching a little when he pulled his foot just slightly off the brakes, the engine growling for release. Keith slowly pulled forward to the painted white line, checking over his controls one last time before releasing a shaky breath, feeling the adrenaline flood his veins.
He was ready.
Lance slowed to a stop, sliding in just behind the white line on the tarmac, shifting into a lower gear as he stared at the empty lanes ahead of him. His car purred as he pressed against the brakes, ready to go whenever he was, and Lance stroked his hand over the steering wheel.
Let's do this girl.
Lance smiled as he regripped the wheel, feeling himself shake a little in excitement, and started the countdown.
He was ready.
3.
2.
1.
Keith slammed on the gas, foot nearly touching the ground as he slowly released the clutch, car gearing up as he tore away from the starting line. The engines of the cars around him roared, but Keith was only focused on the track ahead of him, the racers in his rearview slipping away as he took the lead.
He braced himself against the seat and whipped the car around the first turn, slipping further away from the other cars on his tail, solidifying his place at the front of the pack by nearly an entire second.
Keith heard a familiar 'whoop' through his headset and couldn't help a smile from spreading across his face.
He was going to win.
Lance let his tail end slide around behind him, dropping the clutch and pulling the handbrake as he drifted around the first bend, unlocking the brake as he floored it on the straightaway. He hung close to the metal guard on his right, already jostling the gear shift down in preparation for the next curve in the road.
He slammed on the clutch, slingshot around the first bend to the left, before cranking the wheel hard right to slip around the second turn.
Lance's 'whoop' of joy was met with a chuckle from his headset, and he couldn't help but grin.
He could do it.
Keith started inching in on the turn entrances, no long holding to the outsides like his competitors, cutting off anyone even remotely close from overtaking him. He could feel the g-force fighting against the traction of the wheels, the newly designed rubber the only thing stopping Keith from sliding off the track, and Keith smiled harder.
He really had the best engineer.
Keith raced onto the second straightaway with seconds separating him from the rest, and he only grew that distance as the engine roared louder, speeding up towards the next turn.
Lance curved his car around another corner onto the longest stretch yet, the straight road almost seeming alive in the midday heat, tarmac looking as liquid as the sea. He geared up until there was nothing left and watched the speedometer climb, letting it hover at the theoretical top speed before giving her just a little more gas, pushing her just a little harder. Lance laughed as the numbers climbed higher than the limited 155mph.
He really had the best engineer.
Lance let himself enjoy the thrill for just a moment longer before gearing down, turning into the next curve, and returning to the winding road he was racing down.
Keith was taking corners sharper than he had to, being more aggressive than strictly necessary to be for how far ahead he was, and he could hear Shiro's voice in his head scolding him. But nothing seemed to matter anymore. Keith was pushing the limits of the car, pushing himself to drive faster than he had yet, but to no end.
He already knew he was going to win. There wasn't even a competitor in his rearview, he had lost all of them several turns and laps back, the raw speed of his car seemingly unmatched by all but one. One, who was also nowhere to be seen.
Keith was frustrated as he rounded the last corner, barely missing the other wall at the exit of the turn. He heard someone suck in a breath from his earpiece, obviously biting their tongue about his driving. He figured he'd hear about it later anyways.
Keith sped towards the finish line of his final lap.
Lance's arms were getting tired of the same motions. He was quickly changing the direction of the wheel, pulling at the parking break, releasing it, before cranking the wheel in the opposite directions again. Lance drifted with ease in and out of the turns on the winding road, but he knew he was getting lazy, he almost let his tail end clip the guard rail on the final turn.
He pulled out of the consecutive turns with smoke billowing from the back of his car. If someone didn't know better, they would have thought his car was on fire, not that he had just burned off almost all of the rubber on his rear tires. He'd have to replace them after this.
The finish line was just ahead, the final stretch of road between him and the end of this race, and Lance sped up again. He was going to do this.
Keith flew across the finish line, knowing the checkered flag had been waved behind him even if he couldn't see it. He slowed the car through the first few corners again, unable to hear the crowds cheers over the roar of his engine, but hearing the pit crew in his ear was more than loud enough.
He drove off the track to pull into the pit, barely parking the car before he was unstrapping himself from the car, removing the wheel from the chassis. Keith had fully removed his helmet and is standing outside the car by the time Shiro had reached him, pulling the younger into a bone crushing hug.
"Good job." Is all Shiro said as he ruffled Keith's hair, only to have his hand swatted away by the younger.
"Where was Rolo?" Keith asks, anger painted the sharp edges of his tine, resulting in an unimpressed look from Shiro. But before the older can respond Pidge was weaselling their way in-between the two, smiling up at Keith.
"Taken out on the third lap," Pidge answers for Shiro, "tried to cut off one of the Redbull racers and slid both of them into the gravel. He's parked in the other garage." They point over their shoulder towards the second garage where Keith can clearly see Rolo casually chatting to the pit staff, the blue part of the bicoloured chassis littered with scratches and dents.
Keith lets out something akin to a growl and starts walking towards the other driver, only to have Shiro's prosthetic hand grab loosely onto his arm. Keith stops in his tracks and turns to glare at the older.
"I know you're angry," Shiro beats Keith to whatever he was going to say, "and I know you think he probably deserves whatever you're going to tell him. But, just for now, tone it down okay? This is the first real race of the season, we really don't need you making your press reputation any worse than it already is."
Keith stared down at his shoes, letting out a deep breath and feeling some of the anger slip from him. Shiro had that effect on people. When he looks back up at the other Keith can say Shiro is probably right, he probably doesn't need to start this argument with Rolo.
But damn if he doesn't want to.
"I'm just gonna tell him to buck up," Keith says, gently removing the plastic fingers from his arm, not missing the way Shiro grimaces at each movement.
"I want to talk to you later about adjustments!" Keith hears Pidge yell from behind him as he stalks towards the garage, and waves a hand over his head in acknowledgement. He's sure he'll be herded into their lab later to play twenty questions about the state of the car today.
Rolo notices Keith approaching and immediately tenses up, quietly ushering the pit staff away, and the look of fear the staff member gives Keith as he walks towards the pair tells him that maybe he looks as angry as he feels. The staff member is gone in a flash, off to pretend to inspect some of the equipment far enough away to be out of Keith's firing rage, but close enough to listen in. Keith can't find it in himself to care.
"Hey Keith!" Roll greets, sounding just the slightest bit cautious. "Congrats on the win."
"No thanks to you," Keith says, stopping just in front of the taller male, having to tilt his head upwards to glare at the other.
Rolo laughs, still trying to play it safe as Keith fumes inches away from him. "You never needed my help anyways."
"Not the point," Keith grits out, taking another step closer into the other's personal space as he jams a finger into Rolo's chest. "What the fuck were you doing back there?"
"Whoa man, chill out," Rolo says, hands raising up in the air in innocence, and he tries to take a step back. "I got off to a bad start, I was just trying to work my way back up."
"We both know you intentionally checked that racer," Keith says vehemently, and the momentary look of guilt on Rolo's face only further enrages Keith. "You need to be racing up at the front with me, not off playing bumper cars with some losers at the back of the pack."
Keith watches the other driver's face harden, realizing that might not have been the right thing to say.
"What's it matter to you? You won anyways, so what I do isn't even your problem," Rolo says, standing up straight so he's looking down on Keith.
It matters because without someone to race against it was boring as shit Keith thinks to himself, but holds his tongue.
"Just get your act together," Keith growls before turning on his heel, walking back towards where he'd left Pidge and Shiro moments before.
"Whatever you say, oh prodigy!" Roll mocks from behind him, and Keith whirls around to settle the other with a glare that would cause a lesser man to wither. But Rolo was nothing if not defiant, so he stares back until Keith eventually decides it's a waste of his time, turning around to return to his pit crew.
He'd let Allura deal with Rolo later.
Lance rocketed across the spray painted finish line, hearing Hunk shout in his ear but having no clue what he was saying, instead Lance focused on slowing his car down so he could turn her around to pick Hunk up.
"Lance! Lance, oh my god, Lance! You did it!" Lance finally caught through the headset, already driving back towards where Hunk was standing next to a lawn chair on the side of the road.
"Hunk, wait, don't tell me yet. I need to see it. I need to know." Lance yells back, sliding to a stop just before the other, unbuckling from his seat and nearly throwing himself out of the car.
Lance only has a second to breathe before Hunk pulls the other into a hug, picking Lance up and spinning him around a few times for good measure. By the time Lance has both feet back on the ground he's nearly vibrating with excitement, and Hunk's grin is contagious. Both of them are smiling like fools as Hunk hands the tablet over to Lance.
The bright digital numbers stare at Lance like a shining beacon, and the laughter that rips from his throat is exuberant. 9:56.052.
"We did it!" Lance shouted when he finally finished laughing, throwing himself into Hunk's arms again. "We broke ten minutes!"
Hunk was laughing along with Lance as he returned the hug, "A full twenty seconds faster than last time too, Lance you drove so well!"
Lance pulled back with a too large grin on his face, hand still clasped around the tablet with the digital timer, amazed he hadn't squeezed it so hard he cracked the screen.
"Hey, I can't take all the credit here," Lance smirks, nudging the other man with his elbow. "Whatever you did to her engine made her fly. She broke 155."
Lance watched Hunk's face go from an embarrassed blush to keen excitement at that last statement.
"I just removed the limiter!" Hunk explained, moving past Lance to his car, already putting on gloves so he could open the hood, "It really wasn't anything special, all BMW's do it the same, I did it before on your dad's old one for that second car we made. And removing the limiter doesn't even do that much, it can still only go so fast. Plus, if you push her too hard then you could seriously damage the engine, and I was worried you'd hurt yourself, and-"
"Hunk," Lance cuts off the other's rambling, Hunk turning to look at him from inside the hood of his car, "you did great. I love it. And I think this deserves celebration."
"Milkshakes?" Hunk's face lights up, and Lance smiles as he approaches the other, throwing an arm over the broader mans shoulder.
"Sounds great," Lance says, squeezing the others shoulder with a smile before maneuvering himself to the driver-side door. "Milkshakes on me. I'm starving, we just beat our all-time record, and I think we are in desperate need of a sugary reward."
Hunk takes one last look at the engine before closing the hood, grabbing his bag of gadgets with the lawn chair, and sliding into the passenger seat of the two door. He throws his stuff into the too-small backseat, and turns to face Lance as the other starts up the vehicle again.
"So," Hunk says, face serious as Lance starts the car back towards town, albeit much slower than his earlier drive, "Chocolate or vanilla?"
Let me know any thoughts, comments, or critiques! Thanks for reading 'til the end!
~Katz7777777