Before the Sun Sets on the Horizon

I. Instinct

First, there's the explosion. Then, everything becomes a blur of events.

There's too much smoke. He can't see anything two feet ahead of him and the voices belonging to his teammates are coming from his sides, shouting "what happened" and "where is Lance". On his mind, though, there's only the fact that they are being attacked and he needs to stay alert for possible enemies and he's pissed because he let himself relax for a moment and this shit went down.

They find Coran lying on the floor, dirty and confused. The Castle's core crystal is destroyed and blood boils on his veins. He's so, so pissed. To be honest, he just wants to grab his Lion and shoot somebody, make this Galran scum pay.

Then, the smoke starts to fade and his mind turns blank. Lance is down.

He wants to move but his legs are not obeying him. He wants to scream but his throat is dry. He wants to think of something, anything, but suddenly he's too dizzy to form a complete thought. It's fear, he realizes. Fear that is paralyzing his body — his soul —, fear that is leaking ice cold through his limbs and making him shiver and sweat, fear that is consuming him like fire consumes oxygen. It's aggressive, impulsive, intense — aspects of his being that he thought he was in control of.

It's dangerous.

He needs to run before whatever is going on inside of him takes the best of him and focus on what he does best: kick some butts. He is the "actions first, emotions later" kind of guy, not the other way around. So while everyone is finding stuff to do he says whatever needs to be said and gets the hell away from there as soon as possible. He doesn't know why he is having some sort of panic attack but this is not the time to figure that out. He needs to leave. Now.

Lance is down.

He tells himself he's not a coward for wanting to run away. He's not.

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II. Dreams

The fight is over. Allura says Lance is going to be fine after a day. Everything is going to be fine.

Is he going to be fine?

He can't sleep. His mind is trying to find the reason why happened what happened at the crystal room, but his heart is telling that he knows better, that he's not dumb. He has known for a while now and admitting it is like torture, like hot iron being pressed against his flesh. It's humiliating.

Why can't it be someone else? Why not Shiro, whom he admire and respect so much? Why that stupid-dork-idiot-jerk of an ass dude?

All he knows is that he can't let his emotions dictate his actions. Feelings are irrelevant considering the Paladins' mission to save the entire universe from the Galra Empire. Failing on a job he's the only one capable of doing because he has a crush on some guy is not an option. Soldiers can't have the luxury of worrying over fallen comrades or personal matters. His life is not his anymore.

Turning on his side on the bed, he finally closes his eyes. It was just a momentary shock. Galra is not going to take him by surprise ever again. Everything is going to be fine.

In his dreams, Lance is falling over and over again and he can't save him.

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III. Turbulence

"You are such an idiot, Lance," he tells him while freeing him from the cuffs that are binding him to the tree. Lance's eyes gaze away, too stubborn to admit he screwed up. His lips are contorted in a pout, though. He shouldn't be thinking it's kind of cute.

"Shut up, Keith."

He gives a harsh pull on the bracelet that is still stuck in Lance's right wrist to irritate him or to keep focused on scolding Lance instead of letting his mind wander to dangerous places, he doesn't know which. "You shut up, you have no right to say anything after you almost lost your Lion over some random alien girl," he barks.

"… Oh. Oh, I see." Lance is grinning this time and beneath his eyes there's a malice he has never seen before, different from his usual provocative style. A shiver runs down his spine, but he refuses to acknowledge it. "This is all about you being jealous, huh?"

"For Heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes. "I'm not into rabbit-like chicks, thank you very much."

"I'm not talking about her." Lance's grin widens as his face gets near his own. "I'm talking about how jealous you are of me hitting on someone else."

He can't help it when his mouth cracks open with shock. There's the slightest moment of panic with the idea of Lance being suspicious of something before he realizes that jerk is just messing with him. He retaliates with a punch on his face. "Stop saying shit and get on your Lion. Hunk is eager to save his girlfriend."

Lance's laugh keeps echoing on his ears as he steps away. His face is flushed crimson and his heart is beating fast, his stupid brain still blathering about how close their faces were and how soft his lips seemed.

He refuses to acknowledge that too.

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IV. Violence

When he finally finds Lance, he's at the training room.

"Hey, dumbass," he calls from the door. "Get ready. We are almost arriving in the Balmera."

Lance doesn't reply, though. He's with his back turned on him, fighting a simulation robot without the protection of a Paladin's armor. His attacks are erratic and savage, just a bunch of punches and kicks and unwavering rage, the veins of his arms popping out with the strength he's using to keep his fists clenched tight.

Sensing something is not right, he steps closer. At this point, the robot has already been defeated and lies on the ground, but Lance straddles the mechanical body and continues to smash his head.

"Lance?" he calls again. No answer.

When he reaches an arm to stroke his shoulder, Lance finally reacts by shoving his hand away.

"Fuck off."

"Lance." This time, he grabs Lance by the collar of his soaking wet shirt and forces him to look up. Lance's right hand is bleeding and his pupils are dilated in frenetic madness. "What the hell?!"

Lance stands up and pushes him away harshly, making his back hit the floor. Pain spreads through his body. "What do you want, huh?" Lance shouts, breathing hard. "To brag about how better at piloting you are and how much of a loser I am? To say that I'm a disappointment, that I'm always fucking everything up? Don't waste your time, then, because I already know all of it. Now go suck Shiro's balls or whatever and leave me alone."

Somehow Lance's words hurt more than his fall. "You're not a loser," he says, leaning on one of his elbows while rubbing his sore neck.

"How can I not be?" It's Lance's turn to grab him and he's lifted until his feet no longer touch the ground, then his back is thrown against the wall. He suppresses a moan. "I'm the one always having to be saved. I stood unconscious while Sendak took the Castle. Do you know what I was doing before the explosion, Keith?" he snorts in a humorless laugh. "I was whining for being away from my mommy."

"Lance, it's not your fault," he manages to say while being tugged against cold metal, closing his hands around Lance's wrists.

"Of course it's my fault," Lance is shouting again, drops of saliva flying from his mouth with the strength of his ire. "Shiro got tortured because of me. Tortured. And Pidge had to deal with everything alone. He—she, whatever — she's just a communications expert, you know? She isn't even supposed to be here. Or Hunk. Do you know why they are here? Because I didn't want to go to my room. I dragged them into this mess. And now they can die because I'm too useless even to watch their backs."

There are tears falling from Lance's eyes now.

"Lance—"

"Don't," Lance interrupts. His voice is hoarse. "Don't be a hypocrite with me, Keith. Wouldn't you feel the same if you were in my position? We both know you would."

His lips part open to say something, but close soon after because Lance is right. He felt guilty when Sendak managed to attack the Castle under his watch and he felt guilty for being stuck outside while Pidge was doing all the work. He felt guilty when he saw Lance down on the floor after the explosion and he felt guilty when he felt the need to run away. Guilt, he thinks, is just like fear: aggressive, impulsive, intense. And human beings are cocky enough to think they are in control of these things until they blow on their faces.

They stay silent for a few seconds before Lance slowly releases him and turns on his back.

"I'm sorry," Lance mutters, cleaning the tears away from his face with his bleeding hand. The motion leaves a stain of blood under his eyes. "You can go. I'll be joining you guys in a few moments."

There's yet another pause when he finally decides to speak.

"No."

Lance turns his head to look at him, confused. "What?"

"I'm not leaving. Here." He materializes his shield. "Hit me."

"I can't—"

"Hit me." Lance's eyes widen. "We've still got a few minutes. Let it all out."

Lay it all on me.

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V. (Sweet) Danger

They have been taking turns in the control room for a few hours now, trying to find a way to infiltrate the Galran Empire and save Princess Allura. It's his break. He goes to his room and lies on his bed, putting his headphones on. Soft rock starts playing and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. It's a suicide mission and Shiro knows it. He hasn't decided yet if he's ready to risk everything in a rushed plan, which is stupid because he doesn't need to worry about leaving anyone behind to mourn for him at Earth. He has no home, never had.

However, the problem is not about how things are, but how things could be. He has grown not only to accept his feelings, but also to care about his friends. It's so, so stupid that, in the end, all that soldier bullshit about saving the universe means nothing compared to his desire to stay with Team Voltron. He learned what it means to have a family with them. They could be his home.

Love, he decides, is worse than fear or guilt. It's addictive.

There's no point in thinking about all of those things, though, because he knows he would follow Shiro straight to hell if he asked him to. And since he actually asked, then he would be sure to shoot as much Galran ships as he could and hope for the best.

His thoughts then wonder to incoherent images until someone yanks one of his headphones off.

"Hey, space playboy." He opens his eyes only to find Lance staring at him in annoyance. "I asked if you have one of these to spare because mine just broke."

"I don't," he says while retrieving the stolen earpiece, closing his eyes again. Lance, being the little shit he is, though, takes it back.

"Whatever," he says, lying on the bed next to him, which makes his body stiffen. He wants to find the inner strength to kick Lance's lazy ass out of his room, but finds none. Lance's presence there in his private sanctuary for the first time is awkward, yet comforting. He doesn't really want Lance to go, though the rational piece of his brain is screaming for him to do something about that absurd situation. "What emo song are you listening to right now?" Lance asks.

"Shut up," he groans in response.

They stay side by side, in silence. He keeps his eyes shut tight, afraid to open then and find Lance staring at him. Lance is too close and he can feel the natural scent of his skin mixed with deodorant and it's driving him crazy. It is too much, that intimacy he's not used to, and he fears he might do something he will regret later. Lance has the most kissable mouth he has ever seen. His lips are full and soft and he bites the lower one when he's concentrated on something, which always looks like Lance is teasing him. There's also a dimple on the right corner of Lance's mouth — only the right one — that he wishes he could kiss, and it shows when Lance smiles his perfect aligned white teeth smile. There're no such things as shy smiles with Lance. When Lance does something, it's always to its full extent, which both scares him and attracts him at the same time.

He just can't stay away from danger.

When he realizes it, his eyes are already open and he's staring right at Lance. Their faces are so close due to the length of his headphone's cable it makes his mouth go dry. How many times did he imagine them to be together like this? Maybe never, maybe since the day he first laid eyes on him at the Academy and pretended he didn't feel dragged towards that tall stranger.

Lance's serene gaze is on the ceiling, his breath coming out with slow motions of his chest. He, on the other hand, is burning on the inside, his heart beating so fast Lance's calmness feels like an insult. It's almost hurtful the way their fingers are barely touching. He wishes he could tear those damn armors of them apart so he could feel some real skin.

The situation is getting out of control and he can feel the danger sliding through his skin in beads of cold sweat. It's just too much. Patience has never been on his nature. Isn't it funny how human beings spend days — weeks — reasoning about something only to throw it away in only ten seconds?

"Are you afraid?" Lance suddenly asks, startling him. He doesn't know if Lance has noticed he was staring at him, but suddenly that doesn't matter anymore.

His first instinct is to lie. No, no he is not. Instead, he thinks Lance deserves better than an empty lie. No matter how hard he tried to deny at the beginning, they share a bond after all. "Yes." Yes, he is afraid. Not afraid of dying, but afraid of living when everyone else is gone. Being lonely is not an option for him anymore.

Lance nods while still staring at the ceiling. His expression is more contemplative than serious, though a hint of a wrinkle is showing on his forehead. "Have you thought about all the things we haven't done yet? Like, I don't know, hiking perhaps. I have never gone hiking. My family prefers the beach. I love the beach too, but I always wanted to explore the mountains, find a grizzly bear or something. Don't you think it would be nice if we all went camping somewhere on Earth? I have never camped too. And we could go fishing and build a campfire and Hunk could grill the fish for us to eat, though it's a bit disgusting to eat the whole fish without—hey, what's so funny?"

As he's listening to Lance's endless speech, he's scoffing. Lance is so simple, his wishes are so simple. While Lance, the team's official drama queen, is worried about hiking and camping and fishing, he's worried about loneliness and death and war. At this point, he's not sure who the stupid one is.

Lance tilts his head to look at him and he feels his guts twisting and turning in what people like to describe as butterflies. He hates them. He hates to feel so vulnerable before the deep, blue ocean of his eyes. How can such a simple person have such depth hidden beneath his clown attitude?

"What, so the all high and mighty Keith is too high and mighty to do mundane things? Have you done everything this universe has to offer after you got kicked out of the Garrison?" Lance is pouting. He wants both to kiss him and punch him in the face for bringing the Garrison subject.

"No," he lets out a heavy sigh, already too tired of playing games with himself. "I'm not a robot. I want things too."

"Such as…?" Lance lifts an inquisitive eyebrow at him. He hesitates for a moment to wet his lips. It's odd how their hands are still touching and Lance doesn't seem to be bothered about it. That gives him the courage to sustain his gaze and reply.

"You," he says, feeling the weight upon his shoulders that he haven't even realized he was carrying vanish. "For starters, I want you. And you'd better run away now, otherwise I'm going to kiss you to shut your damn mouth because you talk way too much and it's giving me a headache."

Lance blinks for a moment, but doesn't seem surprised. That makes him angry. He was expecting a fuss about it, maybe Lance laughing or freaking out. Something, anything. But Lance gives him nothing.

Just as he is about to demand an explanation, the corners of Lance's mouth twitch in a grin that only widens as time passes, being followed by the sinful dimple he wants so much to bite on. "Yeah, I know," Lance says, as his face grows closer to his own, making him shiver. "But there's no way you're going to beat me in anything other than piloting, so excuse me, but I'm going to kiss you first."

He feels Lance's lips touching his softly, which causes an unexpected jolt of electricity to run down his spine. He thought he would feel himself burn from inside out giving the team's recurrent theme, but the prickling sensation through all his body is surprisingly pleasant. It's pleasant, but it's not enough. It's too slow. He wants more.

He pulls Lance closer by the back of his neck with unnecessary harshness, darting his tongue out to force Lance to open his mouth. Lance's grin is still there as he does as told, but he's too busy to be angry as he explores Lance's mouth. It tastes like toothpaste and that awful juice and something else he can't detect, but he doesn't care. Lance's hand closes around his waist and he groans in annoyance when their armors prevent him from feeling Lance's fingers on his skin. With impatient hands, he fumbles across Lance's armor, looking for ways to detach it. He just wants to feel a bit more.

But Lance is trying to get away from his grip and he groans with indignation, biting Lance's lower lip, then his jaw, then his neck. There's no way he can't stop now. Please, not now, not yet.

It's just when Lance gives a little tug on his shoulders that he notices Hunk's voice coming from somewhere. He unwillingly takes his teeth off of Lance's earlobe and tilts his head sideways, finding Lance's helmet lying on the floor, making annoying sounds. "—am soo hungry! Come on, pal, it's your turn… also, I think I need to do number two, so WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

There's a second of silence before he releases Lance completely and they share a profound look. "You are excused," he says, because really, what else is there to say?

Lance smirks just as he does whenever he is going to say something stupid, but Pidge's shrilly scream for Hunk to stop farting in the control room interrupts him. Releasing a heavy sigh, Lance sits up and retrieves the helmet he left on the ground. As he is about to stand up and exit the room, though, Lance bends over him and rests his lips against his cheek.

"If you die there," Lance says against his ear, giving him a small kiss. "I swear to the pepperoni blast with extra bacon from Manolo's pizzeria that I'll revive you just so I can kill you again myself."

Keith smiles.

A/N: I'm sorry for cockblocking Keith.