It had been ten years.

Ten years since Haggar had been defeated. Ten years since the Voltron Coalition had taken over and restored peace to all the galaxies damaged by the reign of the Galra Empire.

Ten years since Allura…

Lance looked down at the soft maroon flower resting in his fingertips.

I can't believe it's been so long.

It had been so many years since she had died. Since she had sacrificed herself to save him. To save everyone. From the witch and her destruction.

Lance squeezed the pale green stem of the flower. Harder and harder until it snapped, breaking the flower into two.

If it had been so long, why did it still hurt? Why did it hurt to say her name, to see her face in his mind?

Why hadn't the rocks in his chest broken yet?

He dropped the fractured flower to the ground, kicking it away from him with his boot. It disappeared into the tall grass, hiding itself beneath its brothers and sisters.

The field was full of the flowers. As far as Lance could see, hot pink specks dotted the ground, swaying to the inhaling and exhaling of the wind. He had brought a sample of them back from Altea, long ago, and they had flourished. Cutting one down caused two more to pop back up.

Two planets, on opposite sides of the universe, could harvest the same flowers. Who knew?

Lance's gaze drifted from the ground, catching briefly on the horizon. The sun was just beginning to set, staining the clear blue sky with washes of orange and gold. Violet shadows hung to the bottoms of the ghostly clouds that hugged the edge of his line of sight. Pale stars were just beginning to show their faces at the top of the sky, translucent and sparkling against the daylight.

Lance sighed, then inhaled, breathing in the hot, dry air. It had been a long time since he had watched a sunset. At one point, it was all he had longed to see. To see Earth again, instead of the vast expanse of space and stars. Now, that he was here, he sometimes took it for granted: the trees, the grass, the lakes. The rain and the snow and the wind. The animals and the plants and everything in between. His mother's cooking. His father's smile.

He had everything he needed and wanted.

But still, he oftentimes found himself staring up at the night sky, dreaming about the stars and everything that was beyond them.

He sighed again, turning his head away from the sun. He began to pick up his tools from the grass; a shovel, a hoe, a small hatchet. He had been planting a garden in the field for his family to use for cooking. Running a farm, contrary to popular belief, did not mean that everything you grew you could eat. We have to make a living, just like everyone else, his mother had told him.

Lance didn't notice the cool shadow pass over him. Nor did he notice the figure that it belonged to. He had lost one of his small shovels, and he needed to find it. He had already lost three, and his mom would not be happy if he lost another one.

He was so preoccupied searching through the tall, thin grass that he didn't even notice when the figure bent down, balancing his weight in his heels.

"Looking for something?"

Lance looked up, whipping his head towards the voice. It belonged to a young man, about the same age as he. He was tall and lean, perfectly balanced despite his awkward perch. He had pale skin that looked like it should be splattered with freckles but wasn't. His arms were hidden by the sleeves of a short cropped coat of red and white. The rest of his body was clothed in black: black boots, black pants, a black v-neck t shirt. Even his hair was black, wild and disheveled as it was, with the ends being pulled back into a long ponytail at the nape of his neck. His thick bangs fell down across his forehead, nearly shielding his eyes, but Lance could still see them clearly. They were large and slanted, and the irises shone a clear, pale violet. A scar ran from just below the boy's right eye to his chin, shaped perfectly like the blade of a sword.

In his left hand he held a small shovel.

Lance looked at the shovel, and then back at the figure. He was still staring at him

"Keith?" Lance said. Or rather, stammered.

A smile tugged at the edge of Keith's mouth as he glanced tenderly at Lance. His eyebrows, sharp and angular, arched into his forehead.

"No, stupid, I'm Coran. Obviously," he said, in a terrible accent. He smiled wider, letting it capture his eyes. He laughed. "Wow, you really are the dumb one."

Lance stared at Keith for a minute, still shocked. It had been so long since he had seen him laugh. Slowly, a smile crept into Lance's lips, spreading across his whole face and making his eyes get smaller. He dropped his tools into the grass and threw himself at Keith, latching his arms behind his neck and burying his head in his shoulder. A laugh escaped from his lips, echoing faintly into the collar of his jacket.

Keith's eyes grew wide as he processed what was happening. He dropped the shovel from his hand, letting it tumble to the ground. Slowly, the shock wore from his face, and was replaced again by a small smile. He gently wrapped his arms around the other boy's shoulders, bringing him in closer to his chest.

Lance said something, but it was muffled by the cloth of Keith's jacket.

"What?" Keith asked, untangling Lance's arms from around his neck. Realizing what he had done, Lance jumped back, his face red. He scooted away from Keith a couple inches, making what seemed to be a slightly less intimate distance between them. Keith's face was red as well. Both boys looked away from each other, smiling shyly with their eyes. A few moments passed before Lance repeated what he had said.

"I'm not the dumb one," he protested, turning back to look at Keith. They locked eyes again. Keith's eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. Then he tilted his head, shooting Lance a mocking gaze.

Lance hardened his stare, trying to look stern. He had gotten good at the look. They used to be rivals, after all.

Lance looked away, breaking into a fit of laughter. Keith joined him a few seconds later, giggling at first and then completely losing control. They fell onto the ground, surrounded by the grass and the flowers and the assorted garden tools, and smiled at the sky.

"How's the Blade going?" Lance asked Keith later.

They were sitting under a tree now, still in the field, with their backs resting against the thick wooden trunk. The sun had set lower in the sky, casting ghostly shadows across the ground and covering everything with an eerie orange glow. The stars were brighter-Lance could make out some of the constellations. Orion. Gemini. Taurus. He could even see the North star, twinkling pearly white above their heads.

Lance turned to Keith, studying his profile. He was watching the sunset, watching the oranges and yellows bathe the world in shadows. The soft light made the boy's corneas look almost yellow.

"Oh, you know," Keith replied, tossing the piece of grass he had been fiddling with away. "Same as always, I guess. Good." He turned to look at Lance as he said this. "I mean, it feels good helping people. I like it."

Lance nodded, agreeing with him.

He seems so much more...relaxed. Happier, almost, Lance thought. I guess it's a lot less to worry about, not being the Black Paladin and all. He even laughed. I don't remember the last time I saw him laugh so much. Lance smiled. Keith faintly returned it.

"How's the farm?"

"It's good," Lance replied, turning to look at the sky again. He nodded his head. "I mean, it's not glamorous. It's simple. But I get to see my family, which is what I wanted for a really long time. So… yeah. It's good."

Keith nodded.

A few moments passed in silence. Suddenly, Keith spoke:

"Do you miss it?"

Lance looked at him, and then back at the stars. At the dark sky speckling with thousands of worlds. Thousands of civilizations and species and languages. An entire universe, waiting, watching. Millions of destinations that he had once been able to see in the blink of an eye. That he had once held in his hands.

Lance closed his eyes. "Yeah."

A pause. Then, "Me, too."

Lance opened his eyes again. He took a few moments, then spoke, breaking the silence.

"What's funny is that I thought I wouldn't. I thought I could leave it behind and never look back. While we were up there, forming Voltron, piloting the lions, I kept thinking the same thought: 'I miss Earth.' And now I'm here. I'm on Earth. I'm not flying around, not knowing what planet or even what galaxy I'm going to be traveling to the next day. Not constantly getting shot at or kidnapped or whatever. I'm safe. And yet…" he paused, taking a breath. He turned to look at Keith. The boy was watching him, listening to him. His eyes glistened with curiosity and intent.

Lance continued. "And yet, more and more, I keep thinking about it. I'll be making dinner, and suddenly the knife in my hand is my bayard. I'm back on a Galra ship, shooting at drones and being sucked into space and almost getting swallowed by… I don't even know. Giant space whales or something. Or when I'm out here, looking at the field and the flowers, and then, suddenly, I'm back on Altea, with everyone. The lions. The Atlas. Shiro. Pidge. Hunk. You…and Allura."

Lance stopped, swinging his gaze from Keith to his lap. His shoulders hunched slightly, bringing his hands together limply in the grass.

Keith's eyebrows furrowed in concern. He scooted closer to Lance, the trunk of the tree scratching his back as he did so.

"You still miss her," he said to the boy.

Lance's head tilted to the side. His golden, tanned face flashed an array of emotions. Sadness? Shame? Guilt? He brought his hand up, using his long slender fingers to brush away a clump of umber hair that had fallen into his eyes. The teal markings-Altean markings-shimmered on his cheeks, making his eyes shine brighter.

Lance sighed, looking at his fingers and fidgeting.

"Of course. I think about her everyday. I think everyone misses her, and I don't think we'll ever stop missing her. Or loving her. She's Allura, you know? She's not gonna ever leave. Not for good. I mean, yes, she's…" he choked on the words. "... she's dead. But, I mean, look."

Lance gestured his arms towards the field. Keith followed his gaze, taking in the miles and miles of pink flowers that touched the horizon and beyond.

"It's beautiful," Keith said.

"It's all because of her," Lance responded. His voice was wispy now, airy and light. "Because of her, I am alive right now. So is everyone on Earth. So is everyone in the universe. She saved us. Saved us all. And for that, I'm very grateful."

Surprisingly, Lance began to smile.

"You know, I think she would want me… want me to let go. To find someone. To be happy."

"She would," Keith told him. "She would want you to keep her memory alive, but not be alone. Not forever."

Lance laughed lightly. "You're right. I know you're right. But it's hard. She's the only person I've ever been in love with." Lance paused, knitting his eyebrows together. He shook his head. His stomach dropped. "No, scratch that. That's not true. She's the only girl I've ever been in love with." He peered at Keith from under his eyelashes. If the other boy was surprised by his confession, he didn't show it.

A moment passed.

Lance cleared his throat nervously. "So, what about you?"

Keith turned, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What about me?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Keith paused, apparently trying to chose his words. "I… I think so. Yes."

"What was she like?"

Keith chortled, knocking Lance's arm as he did so. "Not a she."

Oh. OH. Lance smacked himself mentally.

"...What was he like?"

Keith smiled shyly. He appreciated Lance not making a big deal out of it. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he did so. Sighing, he said, "He had the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met. He was always trying to do things for other people. If you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. If you needed someone to talk to, he was there. At one point… at one point, when he thought he was holding other people back, he offered to leave. To leave so that others could do well. What type of person does something like that?"

Lance considered. After a moment, he said, "A person who is trying to protect someone they love."

Keith glanced at Lance, alarmed that he had been so quick to figure it out, but Lance only smiled at him. Oh, thank Voltron, Keith thought.

Lance told him to go on.

"Well," Keith said. "He was very handsome. And he knew it, and he let other people know it too. But not in a self-centered way. In a joking way." He laughed, a small sound escaping his lips. "He was always joking. In any tense situation, you could count on him to make a joke to lighten the mood."

Keith paused, thinking, then continued again.

"But, despite that, he was very self conscious. Always worried that he wasn't good enough. Or wasn't contributing enough. I tried to help, but… I don't think he knew, or knows, how much he is worth. How much he is worth… to me."

Lance looked at him and scooted closer, his eyes wide. Keith fidgeted, but more out of nerves than discomfort.

"What happened?" Lance asked.

Keith met his gaze. They were so close now, he could count the other boy's eyelashes. He could see his eyes, so bright and so friendly and so accessible. They weren't dark brown, as Keith had thought. No, they were a deep, piercing blue, like the ocean at twilight or the petals of a morning glory.

"Well," he replied, his voice lower now. Not soft, but almost. "I never told him how I felt."

"Why not?"

"Because, I- I didn't think he liked… you know…" Keith looked away, uncomfortable, but, after a moment, met Lance's eyes again. "I didn't think he liked… boys. When I finally got up the nerves to just tell him how I felt, he… he was already with someone else. So I buried my feelings."

"That must have been hard."

"Yeah."

"So, where is he now?"

Keith looked away, shyly. "He's still here. With me." He looked into Lance's eyes. They were so close, they could almost touch noses now. He tried to tell him without telling him, tried to say it with his expression. Finally, he whispered,

"He's right here."

The pieces clicked together in Lance's head, and he stared at Keith. At his long hair, once a mullet but now grown out. At his large, sad eyes-too sad for someone so young. At his angled nose and his dolled pink lips and his bright red scar that had faded over the years. He looked into the face of this boy right in front of him and thought of all the times he had been this close. When he had told him he would shove him into a wormhole. When they had had to climb the elevator shaft to get to the upside-down Altean pool. When Lance had offered to leave. When Keith had left. And when he had come back. And he had stayed.

And he remembered being so frustrated. So frustrated that whenever he looked at who he thought was his rival, he only felt… pain. Pain because he thought that someone like Keith would never want someone like him. And he had wanted him so much.

He had tried to hide his feelings. To write them off. He had been confused-how could he love two people at the same time? He had decided that he couldn't. And so he buried Keith away and found Allura.

And he loved Allura. And he would always love Allura.

But she was not the first.

Here was the first. The team leader. The one who told him that he was there. Who made him feel important. Who made him feel reassured. The boy who had confused him for so long. Who turned his feelings inside out and attacked them.

He had liked boys before him. He had liked girls before him too. But Lance had never been able to sort out his feelings towards Keith. They were too strong.

And he had been afraid.

Afraid of losing the boy he loved.

And now, he was here. Still here, after all this time. After all the battles and the deaths and the heartbreaks and the hellos and the goodbyes. After years trapped in a time loop and years after that, helping him limp through more hellos and goodbyes and heartbreaks.

Lance looked down, smiling faintly. He moved his hand, gently winding his fingers through Keith's. His hands were hard and calloused but smooth. Soft, even. He wound his fingers tighter, not wanting to let go. Not now. Not ever.

Keith's eyes went wide in surprise. He never expected this to happen. Never in a million years.

Lance smiled up at him, and Keith returned his smile. His stomach danced.

Lance leaned his head in close, resting his forehead on Keith's. Both of their eyes slid shut.

Lance could feel Keith's breath. It was soft and warm and shallow.

Keith could just feel Lance's nose on the tip of his. He leaned forward slightly, just enough so that he could brush it with his own.

Lance sighed.

"We make a good team," he whispered, grinning cheekily.

Keith laughed lightly. Leave it to Lance, he thought.

"Yeah, we do."

Lance opened his eyes slightly, peeking at the boy across from him. He stared at the face of the boy who he loved and who he thought would never love him back. The face he thought he would only ever get to see from a distance.

He felt Keith's hand in his own and Keith's breath on his lips, and he savored the feeling. He thought only about what was happening now, in this very moment. Not about the past and what it held or the future and what it would mean now that this, this moment, was occurring. Thinking only about Keith. Keith and Keith alone.

And how close he was now.

And how soft his lips were.

And how this was exactly where they were both supposed to be.