Thanks so much for sticking with this story! I've thoroughly enjoyed it - it's the first Klance I've ever written and I'd love to know if you think it's worth writing more in the future. I really hope this last chapter ties everything up nicely and feel free to criticize/leave feedback - like I say, it would be great to see if anyone thinks I should do more!

Thank you again and enjoy :)

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was alone in Keith's bed. His first thought, rather than being anything to do with the events of the previous night, was that his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert and god damn, why didn't he think to get some water? And then:

"Why am I naked."

It wasn't a question; he knew the answer perfectly well – it was simply a statement of disbelief; shock, surprise, and partly, yes, horror, because what came after this?

Another realisation: "Why am I naked and alone?"

Now that, he didn't know the answer to, because unless he had been severely hallucinating last night, a certain mullet-head should be there with him – also naked and also unabashedly embarrassed.

All he had to change into was his Paladin armour, so a detour to his room was certainly needed if he wanted to avoid any awkward encounters. Lance would have felt less on edge casually strolling among the platoons of a Galra fleet than he did leaving Keith's bedroom. With each step he was glancing over his shoulder – each open doorway he passed, he peered into – every bleep, knock and creak sent Lance reeling and then –

"Good afternoon, Lance."

Lance jumped three feet into the air at the appearance of the orange moustached Alteian from around the corner.

"C-C-C-Coran?!"

Coran recoiled, "My, my – looks like you've got a serious case of the Jumpies. What are you doing in your Paladin armour?"

"I – Uhm – I" –

"Ahh, I take it you slept with Keith, last night." Said Coran, nodding.

"WHAT?!" Lance couldn't believe his ears. "OH, slept with – you mean – sleeping, yeah…"

Slept with Keith and slept WITH Keith - they were two very different things. Both of which were true in Lance's case.

Unfased, Coran continued, "Safe to say, he needed a good helping hand after the Sirens had given him the once over."

Keith had certainly had a helping hand from Lance – only not in the way that Coran was thinking.

"Uhm – yeah." Said Lance scratching his head. "Anyway I'm hella hungry so I'LL SEE YOU LATER, BYE."

Lance bolted from Coran and straight to his room. After changing, he took the longest route he possibly could to the dining room. What if Keith is there, what if Keith is there, what if Keith is there? His brain nagged. He wasn't sure what he was more scared of – ONLY Keith being there or everyone AND Keith being there.

Lance was greeted with a wash of relief and disappointment simultaneously when he got to the dining room, because everyone - except Keith - was there. All eyes turned on him when he entered.

"Yo, Lance." Pidge was the first to speak because no one else would meet his eye.

"Heyyy… guys, where's Keith?"

Hunk almost spat out his juice. Shiro stared dead ahead. Pidge raised a brow.

"Training deck, where else?" She replied and went back to fiddling with the radio-controlled navigator that lay dissected next to her breakfast.

"Oh…" Said Lance. It was a funny feeling – this wanting to see Keith, despite Keith obviously not wanting to see him. Now that Lance thought about it, would Keith even remember what had happened? That Siren voodoo shizazzle could have gone without a trace… that's if Keith had still been under its influence.

"Sooo…" Said Hunk, a twitch tugging at the corner of his lips. "How was Keith last night?"

"Good." Said Lance. He'd almost said very good. "I think he's feeling – ahem – better."

"Did anything…" Shiro started, Hunk shot him a warning glance that Lance did not fail to miss, "Did anything happen?" He finished, his expression suspiciously vacant.

Lance felt the blood drain from his face. "Happen. Anything. No, why do you ask?" His reply was too stiff, too forced. "Did Keith say something?"

Damn it Keith, what have you said? WHAT HAVE YOU SAID?! Lance wanted to scream – but in doing so he may as well have pranced around the dining room and burst out into song the full details of he and Keith's gay kanoodling.

"Nothing." Said Shiro.

Then Hunk, "Nothing at all."

Lance glowered at Pidge, willing an answer out of her. "What?" She asked, genuinely shrugging. "If you have a problem with Keith go battle it out amongst yourselves like you always do. Just try not to break anything this time."

Lance laughed, really laughed. Actually he realised half-way through his laughter that he definitely sounded like a maniac. He pretended to wipe amused tears from his eyes.

"That's right, Pidge. You're sooo right. Me and Keith, right there. You hit the nail on the head. You smashed the ball outta the park. You… you flicked the shrimp in the basket! Lance and Keith – ultimate rivals. Battling it out as always – you've got us down, gurl. Anywho, I have places to be, important people… or… aliens to meet. If ya need me I'll be chillaxing on the training de- I mean my room with a lemonade and some cookies sooo… Yeah. Bye."

"Did he just say 'flicked the shrimp in the basket'?" Said Hunk as Lance hightailed from the dining room.

"Did he even say sentences? Or just a bunch of Lance-like words all strung together?" Said Shiro. The pair of them looked at each other and shrugged.

The training deck was deserted – the only evidence to suggest Keith's presence a flashing score on the screen above the deck. The numbers 38/100 glazed; Keith's lowest score yet.

"Lance? Are you here to do some training?"

Lance jumped out of his skin. What was with people creeping up on him today? But it was just Allura.

"Uhm – no." Said Lance sheepishly, scratching his head. She frowned.

"Is everything okay? I understand that Keith was the most affected yesterday, but if you're experiencing" –

"No, no, no, no – I'm GOOD. Alllll Good. Heh, heh…" Lance realised he didn't sound all good – more like he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore Allura's bewilderment. "Have you seen K – Keith?"

"Yes, he was here only five minutes ago. I don't know where he went though. He seemed distracted."

That made Lance's stomach flip. Keith was distracted. Did that mean he remembered? Upon leaving the training deck, Lance found himself aimlessly wandering the castle in hopes of bumping into Keith, and yet every time he heard a noise – a suggestion of a footstep – he was hiding between a wall or a panel or a sleep chamber.

The next day, Lance arrived to breakfast early – much to the others' surprise. But still, no Keith. Everyone else had seen him at some point, so what was this? Was he avoiding Lance? It was then that Lance began to have his doubts. If Keith had still been under the Sirens' influence that night, then everything he'd done with Lance was a result of his mind control and therefore absolutely nothing he'd have ever done if he was himself, despite wanting to which was the part that was confusing. If Keith had in fact really wanted to do all those things all along but only had the mentality to do so under influence of mind bending creatures, then why was he avoiding Lance? Was he embarrassed? Angry? Then it dawned on Lance – he was angry that Lance had taken advantage of him.

Lance felt sick. Had he taken advantage of Keith? He hadn't considered that before because everything had felt so… mutual. He thought about it hard, pacing the castle's corridors for hours at a time.

No, for starters – Lance had done his best to push Keith away, right? He'd completely abhorred the idea of Keith clinging to him. Yes, his subconscious had been telling him otherwise, but that didn't come out until they were actually in Keith's room. They'd talked for ages about this and that which was innocent enough. Lance hadn't actually initiated the touching and rubbing and all that stuff it had kind of just… happened. But if Keith was, as Lance suspected, under influence, then he should have expected that sort of thing to happen, and therefore by being the only sane person in the room at the time, he was responsible.

And that brought him to his conclusion. It was entirely his fault.

The next day after dinner, (Keith had conveniently decided to leave minutes before Lance had arrived to go and train, making this yet another near miss on Lance's part) Shiro sat next to Lance who was still stuck at the table, drowning in his thoughts and guilt.

"Lance – Come take a walk with me." Said Shiro, hauling Lance from the table by his elbow.

A pathetic, "Eh?" was all Lance was able to muster as Shiro guided him through the castle corridors in silence, before they reached the front deck. It was beautiful here – unlike the control room there wasn't a constant bleep of machines or Coran slurring ridicules and unintelligible Alteian technicalities at them – there was only a huge, domed window facing outwards into open space. A swirling green galaxy dotted with stars, young and old, loomed, glowing and spectacular. Lance marvelled at it blankly for a moment, realising for a moment, as he sometimes did, that they were in the depths of space – further than any humans had ever gone before.

"Okay, Lance – tell me what happened?" Asked Shiro softly.

Lance gulped. "What do you mean?" He tried innocently.

"I mean, tell me what happened between you and Keith. Why is he avoiding you and why do you always look like you've just tasted some of Coran's cooking?"

Lance hung his head. Mentally, he was spent. He couldn't swing his way out of this one.

"Judging from your behaviour the other morning, either Keith told you something you couldn't handle or something else happened between you two – I'm guessing by the way he was clinging onto you when you brought him back it was something – ahem – different."

"You think?" Said Lance sarcastically.

Shiro laid a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Listen, I'm not asking for the gory details, I just want you guys to resolve whatever it is that's going on. Voltron needs to us to be a team and if you two are… arguing? Whatever it is you're doing, then we're all affected."

Lance looked away guiltily. "I want to talk to him, man – but he's never around! Besides, I don't know what I'll say to him even when we do meet."

"Would an apology do it?" Asked Shiro.

Lance exhaled deeply, "I wish. I can't imagine how this conversation is going to go."

Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Woah, must have been pretty major."

There was a short silence.

"Did you two…? You know…"

Lance leapt away from Shiro at break-neck speed. "NO! No, we did not – uhm – not all the way – NO. No. No we didn't."

Shiro started laughing. "Okay, I get it. But speaking from personal experience, you might want to talk to him about it as soon as you can. The longer you leave this sort of thing, the more awkward it becomes."

Lance scratched his head, grimacing. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing… do the others know? I mean, did they" - ?

"We all pretty much guessed. You were both really obvious the next morning."

Dammit Keith, Lance cursed. And then he cursed himself too.

Seconds later, sirens above their heads sounded, and Coran's voice booming over them.

"All Paladins to the control room! We have received a distress signal. I repeat! All Paladins to the control room!" And seconds later, a disgruntled Allura –

"There's no need to sound so urgent, Coran."

"Shh! I'm trying to motivate them! Is this thing still on?"

Lance looked at Shiro.

"I guess I'll have to talk to him now." He said.

"Just try to keep things civil for the mission." Shiro warned.

The Paladins assembled to the control room in their armour. Lance thought his heart might burst out

of his chest on the way there. And when he arrived – Red flashed before him – red being the

marks on Keith's armour, not blood from the spontaneous nosebleed he was sure might occur at

any moment. He deliberately placed himself next to him.

"Keith." Said Lance, trying to keep his voice neutral – but he felt the shake. Keith turned to him.

"'Sup, Lance." He said vacantly, before turning back to Coran and Allura. Lance felt the blood drain

from his face and his knees go weak. WHY WAS KEITH SO CALM? He wasn't even being cold; he'd

given Lance nothing to suggest any sort of emotion towards him. NOTHING. He felt Shiro's eyes

watching them carefully.

"We received a distress signal from a nearby planet belonging to a tribe called the Thespidians."

"That sounds friendly." Said Hunk dryly. "I don't wanna have to fight again, we just ate."

"Seconded." Said Lance, clutching his stomach. Keith's eyes flicked to him.

Coran was pulling at his moustache. "That's the curious thing." He said, "We've scanned the planet

three times and there seem to be no signs of known life. We're only getting unidentifiable energy

signals."

"What if it's a trap?" Said Keith.

"Yeah!" Lance agreed enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. "It – it could be."

He forced himself not to look at Keith, who was giving him a sideways glance.

"I don't know, maybe the ship's wrong. It is ten thousand years old, after all." Said Pidge.

"It is possible that some other life form that the ship hasn't catalogued settled there." Said Allura,

nodding.

"Either way, I say we get down there and find out. It could be an emergency, or maybe not. Let's just

have our wits about us." Said Shiro.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

They descended to the planet in the castle, there was no need for their lions yet. Lance wished there

was so that he wasn't looking over at Keith every five seconds.

The planet was desert like, desolate – barren, except for a pile of ruins.

"Thespidian temples." Said Coran as they unloaded one by one. "Or what's left of them, anyway." He

muttered.

Pidge was waving around a device. "The signal is definitely coming from here." She confirmed. "It's

sort of scattered. There isn't a clear source."

"Let's split up and look for signs around the area." Said Allura. "Coran, you go in that direction. Pidge

and Hunk, you two over there, Lance and Keith can venture West and Shiro, you come with me.

We'll stay close to the ship."

Lance felt his heart sink. This had to be a set-up, right? It was a set-up. Without waiting for Lance,

Keith began to march West, his stomping kicking up clouds of sand and dirt. Lance followed him

uselessly. Why did he always find himself staring at Keith's back? If they were going to talk, now

was the time to do it.

"H-hey, uhm – Keith." He tried.

Keith barely turned. "What is it?" He asked blankly.

Lance chewed his lip. He hadn't been prepared for this. "So… it's been a while." He tried. Wow. Keith

didn't even bother to turn around.

"Yup." He replied.

Around this area of ruins were pedestals about shoulder height, large vases balancing on each one.

Each vase was decorated with faded patterns in what had once been bright colours.

Lance skulked around the pedestals like a dog around an obstacle course, flicking vases and listening

to the hollow ring that ensued.

"Would you stop that?" Keith snapped, irritated. He still wouldn't look at Lance. Scowling, Lance

flicked another one for good measure.

He slid up behind Keith, who was closely inspecting one of the vases.

"You've been avoiding me." Lance accused.

Keith's shoulders slumped. "The paint is stronger on this one. The others are more faded."

"Hey." Lance pestered, tapping him hard on the shoulder and peeking at his face through the visor.

"Keith, don't ignore" –

Lance stopped, because Keith's face… was… well, it matched the colour of his armour. Bright, bright

red. Lance was stumped.

"…me." He finished hesitantly. Keith shrugged him away.

"I'm not." He stomped away, arms folded to look at another stupid vase. Lance rolled his eyes.

"Uhm, yes – actually you are. I spent the past two days looking for you."

Keith turned, his eyes pointed at the ground.

"Why?"

"To talk to you. After… y'know." Lance scratched his head. This was awkward. Awkward as hell –

but he'd been preparing for this. He closed the distance between them. Keith frowned harder.

"Keith, are you" - ?

"YES. Yes, I am, okay? I like guys. Does that bother you?"

"Uhm…" Lance stopped. "I was gonna ask if you're feeling better, but okay."

Keith gaped at him, the immeasurable extent of his horror almost palpable on his face. And then

the blush – AGAIN – staining scarlet on his cheeks.

"I thought – I mean – I thought you were asking if I – If I'm" –

Lance stopped him, because Keith's embarrassment was rubbing off on him and – it was just – he

wanted to become an ostrich and dig his face in the sand.

"I know. It's cool, I mean – heh, heheh, I kinda guessed that you were already. And… uhm… well

There's stuff I wanted to ask you sort of related to that sooo..."

Keith averted his gaze again. His arms were folded and his arms were crossed. If Lance wasn't so

nervous and embarrassed, he'd admit out loud how cute Keith looked.

"That night – were you still – ahem – affected?"

Keith shrugged, his mouth shut in a frown.

"Because I was thinking, I should apologise. I guessed why you've been avoiding me. Ah, quiznak…"

Lance hung his head. He wasn't used to making apologies. "I know I shouldn't have… y'know… in

that situation. I guess I sorta just - went with the flow, y'know? Just sort of lapped up what you were

saying without realising that normally you'd never want me to do that. I'm sorry. I'll never go near

you again."

Feeling his face burn, Lance turned to stride away. Keith grasped his arm, holding him back, then

let go just as fast.

"No, you've got it wrong." He said quickly, his expression desperate.

Lance frowned. "What have I got wrong? What about this whole thing have I got so wrong? Because

to me, it looks like you got pissed after what happened and decided to avoid me."

Rather than making an angry retort, Keith closed his mouth again and stared at his shoes.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Lance challenged.

"I don't know." Said Keith, his voice small and sad.

Lance grunted and kicked up sand. "Are you kidding me? I've spent the past two days stressing out

over what to say to you and you won't even be honest with me."

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Keith growled. "It's not exactly been easy for me either."

Lance sighed and palmed his face over the visor.

"Fine, try this." He said, "If you can't be honest, then lie to me."

Keith frowned. "What?"

"Lie to me." Said Lance intensely. "Say what you want but turn it into a lie if it's so hard for you to be

honest."

Keith glared at Lance fixatedly, the familiar crimson blush creeping back onto his cheeks. "Fine. I was

still affected by the Sirens when you touched me. I hated it. I hated everything about it. I've been

angry at you this entire time, not myself. I've never thought about us doing that sort of thing and

there's absolutely no way I would want to do it again, so from now on, stay away from me."

Keith didn't break eye-contact for a second. Lance took a few seconds to translate everything Keith

had said into the truth:

"I wasn't affected by the Sirens when you touched me. I loved it. I loved everything about it. I've been angry at myself this entire time, not you. I've always thought about us doing that sort of thing and I would want to do it again, so from now on, stay close to me."

Lance couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face.

"Do you mean that?" He asked, quite unable to believe it.

Keith nodded. "Every word."

Lance stepped closer. They were centimetres apart. He placed his hands on Keith's arms, willing him to uncross them. It was as though Keith read his mind – his unfolded his arms and Lance's hands slid the length of them to take Keith's hands in his own.

"Have I ever told you you're a bad liar?" He said, looking down at Keith.

Keith smiled. A real smile. A smile like the ones Lance had seen so many of that night when he'd

been so honest.

"Have I ever told you you're bad in bed?"

Lance felt his face fall. "… You're still lying, right?"

Keith laughed. "Nope."

Lance squeezed his hands and pressed the glass of their visors together. "Seriously, Keith. You can

stop lying now."

"Nope."

"I hate you."

"Now that's a lie."

"Ahem, guys?" Shiro's voice sounded in their helmets. Keith and Lance broke apart quickly, glancing around. They looked at each other, their expressions of horror mirrored.

"Did they hear" - ? Lance started, whispering.

"Everything." Said Hunk, his voice dead. "We heard everything."

Keith's face had completely drained of colour. He dropped to his knees in the sand and flopped, face first, onto the ground.

"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING EARLIER?" Lance screeched.

There was a resounding silence.

"It was fun listening to you guys flail." Said Pidge.

"YOU TOO, PIDGE? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON MY SIDE."

"There are no sides to a circle."

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?"

"I want to die." Said Keith.

"But you'll die a virgin." Hunk giggled.

"Okay, people," Shiro interrupted, coughing back his laughter, "seriously now. Allura's discovered something. All of us need to reconvene by the castle."

"I can't believe they – those little – I can't believe" –

"Stop." Keith groaned. "I don't want to think about it."

Lance knelt in the sand next to Keith. He sighed. "We should get going. We'll have to face them eventually." He rested his hand on Keith's shoulder. Keith reached and gripped his hand hard, his face still in the ground.

"If it wasn't for these visors, I think I'd kiss you." Said Lance without thinking.

Keith lifted his face. "You… want to kiss me." He stated.

Lance immediately felt his neck and face heat, like a boiling kettle. "Uhm… well… yeah."

Keith smiled and pushed himself up from the dirt. "We didn't do that – last time, I mean."

"Do you think we could next time?" Said Lance bluntly. "If – if you want to. We don't have to."

"Lance… look." Said Keith, his voice low and serious.

"Like I said, we don't have to – I mean I guess this is all sorta" -

"No, I mean look – like actually look with your eyes – it's the vases."

"Huh?"

The vases on the pedestals had come to life – the paintings, which had minutes ago been faded relics, bloomed, bright and bold and beautiful as though they had been freshly glossed by a skilled artist.

"Woah…" Lance gaped.

"What is that?" Said Keith, his voice a whisper of awe.

"I guess this is why they need us at the castle." Said Lance.

Allura crouched on the floor, her eyes shut and her palms spread across the sand.

"I knew it." She said, "It's a telepathic signal, just like the one on the Balmera, and it's coming directly from those vases."

Keith and Lance joined the circle, desperately avoiding eye-contact with the other Paladins and each other. A ripple of underlying tension simmered among them all as Allura and Coran intellectually described the situation to them.

"The vases act as sentient vessels of expression. Thespidians used them to communicate love – each painting is a unique graft taken directly from the lovers and translated into visual art on the vase. It was a way to immortalise passion and bind the couple forever."

On any other day, Lance would have been the first to make a comment – the first to laugh or jeer or go 'awh, that's cute. Shame they're all dead.' But today he could only awkwardly stare at his feet, trying not to let his gaze flick to Keith.

Lovers. Of course. Of course. Great timing you trolling, Thespidian bastards, Lance thought.

"That's adorable and everything… but why do vases need Voltron?" Asked Hunk, scratching his chin.

"They don't need Voltron." Said Allura. "They just need to be seen for the traces to stay intact. Having their love communicated to others is what keeps the telepathic field alive."

"You're right." Said Pidge, "We couldn't see the paintings at all when we came, but look at them."

"I feel bad for flicking them now." Said Lance.

"Wait." Said Keith, his eyes focussing in the distance among the ruins. "That one over there – look at it." He meandered between the pedestals, until he reached one closer to the fallen temple. "This one's blank!" He called.

Lance followed him and stood by his side, "Oh, yeah." He mused. "That's weird."

"It was never used." Said Coran joining them. "It will forever remain empty of life and soul, forever alone on this desolate planet."

"Coran, that's so grim." Said Lance, grimacing at him.

"It's kind of sad." Said Keith. And he brushed his fingers over the dusty, curved surface.

There was a collective gasp, because it was as though Keith had cast a spell – from his fingertips, colour blanched onto the vase, swirling in intricate patterns into twists and lines. Keith himself gaped, holding his fingers still as the colour poured from them. When it eventually stopped, half of the vase had been covered, a recognisable feline figure, clad in red and white, leaping across its surface, its mouth wide open.

"Wha – but that's" – Lance wheezed, unable to believe his eyes.

"My lion. I know." Said Keith. "But it's only half."

"That's weird." Said Lance, laying his own hand on the blank side. "Maybe it's broken."

But then, just as it had with Keith, a picture began to form from Lance's hand, triggered by his touch, the other half of the vase was completed. The blue lion, symmetrical to the red, leapt in a graceful arch across the other half, its mouth agape in a mighty roar. The lions' yellow gazes were fixed on each other, painted in exquisite contrast – painted by the souls of Keith and Lance themselves.

"Impossible." Lance breathed, his heart beating. He felt as though a tender part of himself had just separated and attached itself to this vase, intertwining unfathomably with a part of Keith, and when he and Keith's eyes met, he was sure they shared the same expression. And he didn't want to admit that he was on the brink of tears. Neither asked what it meant, because both of them knew – it was confirmation enough that they belonged together.

The others joined them before the painting was complete, all of them transfixed by the wonder that had just occurred in front of their eyes.

"Did that just happen?" Said Pidge, a noticeable edge of disdain in her voice.

"I feel like I just intruded on something I definitely shouldn't have." Hunk added.

Shiro was smiling, he raised his eyebrows at Lance, as if to congratulate him. Lance would have rolled his eyes back if he wasn't feeling so emotional.

"Forever alone my ass." He said to Coran, oddly satisfied.

Lance had disguised his overarching embarrassment and emotions with pleads of "Can we take it with us? But whyyyy? It's so pretty! I don't care if the bond between the other vases is all destroyed, mine and Keith's bond is the coolest!" But Allura had insisted that taking the vase with them would be a destructive telepathic bond that would essentially kill all that was left of the Thespidian race. Unconvinced, Lance reluctantly left the vase behind, but Keith had given him words that made it all okay:

"One day, we'll return and it'll still be here. Living proof of…" And he couldn't finish his sentence because he'd blushed profusely – but it was fine because Lance was so overwhelmed by Keith that Keith didn't even need to speak. Just his existence was enough to fill Lance with giddy excitement that he could barely contain and he expressed by annoying everyone at dinner with terrible jokes and play by plays of everything that had happened in the past few weeks – anything he could think of to distract them from what they'd heard on the planet. But he saw the knowing glances, the pleased yet amused smiles from all, including Keith, and that was enough to fuel his ecstatic energy, to the point where by the time they'd finished eating, they couldn't wait to get away. Except Keith. Keith was still there. And it was like he was waiting for something. When else everyone left, Lance suddenly had nothing to say.

"You're quiet all of a sudden." Said Keith. They were on opposite ends of the table. That made things difficult, because Lance couldn't get side-tracked by proximity or Keith's hair or his smell (which was always so good and he had no idea how Keith did that – was that a Galra thing?) or anything that could divert his attention to something other than talking. Something which could very easily become many things at once that might involve touching – Lance made himself stop staring at Keith's lips. His thoughts were drifting beyond the PG zone.

"Yeah, well… I'm quite tired." Was his best excuse.

Keith raised his brow. "Too tired to hang out for a bit longer?"

Lance gulped. "No, no – we could totally hang out… somewhere other than here would be nice."

Keith averted his gaze. "My room?" He tried to say casually. But it was anything BUT casual, because they both remembered what had happened the last time they were in Keith's room.

Lance shrugged. "Sure. Coolbeans." He cringed. Coolbeans…

Keith's room hadn't shrunk since Lance had last been in there – it just felt a lot smaller now, since he was so aware of the space between them. He felt there was nowhere he could stand or sit or breathe without Keith being only centimetres apart. Not to mention, Keith's scent was everywhere. It was more than what Lance would describe as a typical 'boy' scent. It was that post-active I've-just-finished-training-and-working-out sort of smell – the kind that was impossible to get rid of and filled with the kind of Pheromones that Lance wished his own room had. His room had a distinct scent of I've-not-showered-in-a-while-and-probably-jerked-off-just-before-you-arrived. Not exactly a turn on.

As soon as they walked through the door, Keith removed his jacket. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath, and Lance swore the material on that shirt was freaking designed to cling to every curve and line humanly possible. It would be less suggestive if Keith wasn't wearing a shirt at all – Lance kind of wished that was the case. Even though the light was still on.

Oh yeah…

Was this going to be one of those 'lights on' sort of sessions where they just talk about stuff? Lance didn't mind that so much, not particularly, but now they'd crossed that barrier – the barrier that established they shared a bond worthy of decorating the vase of an ancient race designed to immortalise the passions of lovers - maybe Keith would allow for some other 'lights off' sort of stuff, even if he wasn't pretending to be under Siren influence.

Keith plonked himself onto the bed, hauling off his shoes. Lance stayed put by the door. Maybe it would be presumptuous to sit down too. He didn't want Keith to think that was all that was on his mind. Wasn't it though? He'd just spent the last thirty seconds admiring Keith's sculpted biceps. Lance made himself look at the floor.

"Uhm… Lance? Are you okay?" Keith probed, genuine concern on his face.

"Yup. I'm gooood." Said Lance, leaning against the wall. Keith smiled.

"Last time you did that, you hit your head against the wall."

Lance scowled. "You remember that? Great."

Keith laughed. And holy quiznak did Lance love that sound. He almost felt his legs melt into the floor. "Come and sit here where you'll be less of a danger to yourself." Said Keith, patting the space next to him.

Lance shuffled over, keeping his limbs locked in. He didn't want to seem too loose or relaxed or ready for… well, 'lights out' stuff. He took off his shoes to be polite.

Then they were just sat on the bed, Lance sort of trying to seem casual but completely stumped and suddenly mute. Where was his talk? Where were his words?

"Earlier…" Said Keith, scuffing his feet along the floor in circular motions. Lance had a flashback to those feet pulling desperately on the sheets, moving restlessly… he shook his head. No. No. No.

"You said that there would be a next time." Keith finished, oblivious to Lance's ever increasing anxiety.

"Huh? I did? Oh, yeah… forget I said that if you want." Said Lance, fiddling with the blankets in the small space between he and Keith's thighs.

"But – when you said that it implied you wanted to continue – I mean – you didn't mind" –

"Do you want to? Continue, I mean?" Lance was trying his hardest to dampen his enthusiasm, but similarly with his excitement earlier, he could barely contain himself. Keith's room was doing something weird to him – he was getting all hot under his clothes and he kept remembering small moments from that night. Flashes, like strobes.

Keith looked him in the eye. At this proximity, Lance could make out every single one of his ridiculously long eyelashes. His hair was getting in the way again. Stupid mullet-head, he thought fondly. Without thinking, Lance brushed Keith's hair out of his eyes in one slow, swift movement. Keith's eyes widened in surprise and his breath caught mid-way in his throat.

"Sorry." Lance whispered, his hand paused by Keith's ear. He didn't let it fall. It stayed there, unsure and undecided. Keith decided for him, and pressed Lance's hand to his cheek, which was hot.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, too." Said Keith carefully, his eyes on Lance's lips.

"I did – I did indeed say that." Said Lance, growing flustered and more and more aware of the lack of distance between their lips – distance that was getting shorter by the second.

And Keith did it. Keith leant forward, closed his eyes and parted his lips against Lance's mouth. Too eager, too hot and too passionate all at once. Lance made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, and pushed back, returning the kiss in all of its suddenness and strange hot-headed Keithness. Because he should have known – this was how Keith kissed. All out, or nothing. Kamikaze Keith; diving straight in with no consideration for his own life. And it wasn't bad. Hell, it wasn't even just good – it was amazing and thrilling and burning and – why was that light still on?

They broke apart to take in a desperate breath, before bumping together again, swapping the tilt of their faces, deciding non-verbally, which way was best. Lance found his hand in Keith's hair, gripping him closer, and Keith had grabbed the front of Lance's shirt by his collar. It was a messy, heated, grappling and, yes, somewhat wet sort of kiss. They missed a couple of times, grazing each other's chin with their teeth of accidentally pecking the tip of their noses. But they were too lost in each other to notice, let alone care. Soon, Keith was pushing Lance onto the bed, their lips still attached. He was stroking Lance's face and trailing his fingers down Lance's neck and over his clothes and tangling their legs together. If he wasn't careful, they'd both go crashing onto the floor. All of this was wonderful and quick and unlike anything Lance had ever felt, but there was something bothering him ceaselessly.

Lance broke them apart with some force and they stopped, gasping and staring at each other.

"Keith… I need to – I need to" –

"What?"

"I need to turn out the light."

Keith smirked, and so did Lance, because they knew exactly what would happen once they were in the dark.

"Go on. I'll be waiting."