"Keith?" Lance had opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar kitchen. A quick glance around showed him a scattering of dishes in the sink, and a few pictures of a father and his son decorating the walls and counter. At the small kitchen table sat Keith, whose back was to Lance, and was playing idly with the leaves of a weed-like plant in a small vase in front of him.

If Keith had heard his name being called, he didn't show it, instead continuing to pluck the leaves off the sad looking plant.

"Hey man," Lance let out a soft chuckle, going over to sit in the seat opposite him, "You're going to kill it."

As he sat, he got his first good look at Keith's face, and was shocked to see his pinched expression, and telltale red rimmed eyes. As Lance sat there, lost for words, Keith sucked in a deep breath, letting out a humorless chuckle and finally meeting Lance's gaze.

"Sorry," He released his grip on the plant and leaned back a bit in his seat, "I didn't mean to get all emotional on you."

"Dude," Lance breathed, "You don't have to apologize to me, what's wrong?"

I… It's stupid," Keith shook his head, "I've had years to get over it. I haven't dreamt of this place since I was like thirteen, I don't know why now of all times…"

"What is this place?" Lance glanced around again, taking in all the pictures and odd color scheme, some sort of mismatch of Earthy colors like brown, green, and yellow, "Who's house is this?"

He glanced back to Keith when he didn't get an answer and found him watching him almost warily, and something clicked in Lance's head, "This is your house?"

Keith traced a hand over the faded wallpaper next to him, nodding, "It was my dad's place. We used to live here together before he… before he died."

Lance almost felt like reaching out for Keith but decided against it; the last thing he wanted to do was scare him off. They all knew that Keith was an orphan – or possibly not, if the Blade was correct about his mother being Galra – but they also knew that Keith never talked about his dad. In fact, Lance was pretty sure Shiro was the only one who knew anything at all about Keith's past before the Garrison.

"We picked these a few days before."

Lance startled when Keith spoke again, reaching out to continue his harassment of the poor plant, "We found a patch of them outside a cave we were exploring, and my dad grabbed a handful right before we left. He said it was because my mom used to do that back when she lived with us."

The room fell silent again, and Keith seemed determined not to look at him, so after a few minutes enduring the quiet, Lance stood, wincing at the scraping noise his chair made against the floorboards. Keith gave him a confused look when he grabbed the vase from the middle of the table, the leaf he was currently abusing pulling off in his fingers.

Without saying anything, Lance carried the vase to the counter, relieved when the sink worked, and carefully filled it with water before bringing it back and setting it in front of Keith.

"These things need water to live, you know." Lance pointed out with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "That's why it looks so pitiful… Just like your face right now."

Keith let out a surprised laugh, and Lance felt himself smiling back tentatively. As he watched Keith watching him, he realized what felt so off about the situation.

"This isn't a normal dream, is it?"

Keith glanced away, licking his lips, "No." He replied, addressing the wall.

Lance struggled to reign in his emotions, if he overreacted right then he knew that Keith would immediately turtle, and it would be extremely difficult to coax him back out. After spending nearly a year in space with the guy - fighting side by side day by day - if there was anything that Lance knew for sure about Keith it was that he wasn't as tough as he pretends to be. Emotionally anyway, physically he could probably bench press Shiro without too much trouble.

"Keith, I…" He trailed off. What do you say to the person you've just discovered is your soulmate, the same person you've spent years in a rivalry with, and only recently started to view as a good friend?

"You don't have to say anything. It's fine." Keith wasn't looking at him again, his arms were folded on the table, even though he seemed to be doing his best to subtly lean as far away from Lance as possible.

Lance frowned, taking in his uncomfortable position. It struck him that Keith didn't seem the least bit surprised, but in fact looked… wary? Almost like he knew how Lance was going to react.

"Why does it feel like this isn't the first time this has happened?" Lance blinked in surprise when Keith's head jerked toward him, his eyes gaping.

"Wait, you remember!?"

"Remember what?" Lance watched as Keith's expression slowly sank back to the carefully neutral expression he seemed to favor so much, "Wait are you… Have we had dreams like this before?"

"Yep." Keith nodded, watching him carefully, "Every night."

Lance struggled to remember the last time he even had a dream, let alone one like this… "Why don't I remember?"

Keith let out a humorless chuckle, "I've been wondering that myself."

Lance narrowed his eyes, "So you're telling me, that we've had dreams like this every night for… however long, and you remember all of them, but for some reason I don't?"

"Yep." Keith nodded again, still watching him, and Lance thought he saw something flicker behind his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I do… sometimes." Keith rubbed the back of his neck, "You don't always react the same way, and it gets tiring to have to explain over and over so sometimes I just-"

"No I mean me me. Like real life me." Lance frowned, "Not that this isn't real, I just-"

Keith winced, "Because I don't know how you'll react."

Lance opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it again when he realized that truthfully, he didn't know how he'd react. He would like to believe that he'd believe him, but a small part of him was saying that it was possible he'd just laugh in Keith's face.

I mean… he'd never heard of anything like this happening. The only reason he himself believed it was because he was sitting here, in a dream that didn't feel like a dream, in Keith's childhood kitchen that he'd never seen before in his life.

"See?" Keith said in an uncharacteristically small voice, "Even you don't know how you'll react."

"Keith…" Lance frowned, "That's not… We're teammates, we're friends, man, you can't think-"

Keith shook his head, "Lance, you may not remember, but I do. It's been over a year since these dreams started. I remember every single one. Every one. You don't react the same way each time. Sometimes you believe me and it's just awkward, but most of the time you don't believe me at all, and a few times you even…"

He trailed off, and just by the look on Keith's face, Lance didn't want to know the horrible things he'd probably said or done to make him look like that. This explained all the random days that Keith seemed to hate him, or avoid him for no reason at all.

"There was once…" the expression on Keith's face did something complicated before fixing on blank, "One time you believed me and it wasn't awkward. It actually went okay, and it hurt even worse than the other times when I woke up the next day and you still didn't remember."

Lance sat as still as he could, not trusting his voice, and knowing that touch was the last thing Keith wanted at the moment.

"It's been over a year." Keith sighed, "I've given up hoping that I'll wake up and you'll remember. I'm glad that I get to spend this time with you here, but if I'm being honest it just feels like we're on borrowed time."

Lance frowned, "Keith, I don't-"

Keith sent him a humorless smile, eyeing Lance's face like it was the last time they'd ever see one another, "You're my soulmate, Lance, I can feel it every time I look at you. But looking at everything else," He sighed, "All the signs point to me not being yours."

The pit in Lance's stomach grew, and he sat forward quickly enough that Keith jolted backward, "Keith, there's no way that's true. I might not know how I feel about this whole thing right now, but I've never heard of anything like this happening between soulmates-"

"Since when have we ever been normal." Keith laughed humorlessly, "Besides, I'm half Galra. Maybe their soulmate system works differently, like how Coran and Allura said it did on Altea."

Lance shook his head, "I don't believe that the universe would be that cruel."

Keith's eyes hardened, and he tore his gaze away from Lance's, "I do."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like eons, before Lance slowly stood, looking down at Keith, who seemed to be trying to hold something invisible back from showing on his face, "You may believe that, but I don't. We're friends, Keith. I'm not giving up on you."

Keith didn't meet his eyes when he said, "It doesn't matter. You won't remember any of this."

"Keith." Lance opened his mouth to say more, but Keith had stood as well, and was heading for the door leading out of the kitchen, "Hey, we're not-"

He didn't get to finish, because the edges of his vision began to blur, and before he could get another word out, the kitchen had vanished and he was plunged into darkness.

Lance woke up with a tightness in his lungs. Rubbing at his chest, he sat up and glanced around at the various surfaces in his room, noting the dust gathering in their corners. He hadn't had an asthma attack since he was a kid, but it was better to be safe than sorry… maybe he could find Coran later and see if the castle had some sort of space vacuum. In the meantime, water would have to suffice.

As he made his way to the kitchen he passed Keith's doorway and came to an abrupt halt when he heard a sharp thump and the muffled sound of Keith swearing. He wasn't sure why he hesitated, the two of them had grown close since the black lion had chosen him, and Lance was even starting to entertain the idea that Keith was his best friend… but something still stopped him with his fist half raised to knock.

He stood frozen while he searched his mind for the reason behind his hesitance, but quickly hit a wall, so he took a step back and lowered his arm. Sometimes when it came to Keith it was best to trust his first instinct. So, it was with that thought in mind that he stepped away from the door completely and continued on his way to the kitchen, trying his best to push the sound of Keith swearing out of his head.

"What do you mean we're "soulmates?"" Lance frowned, not quite able to believe what he was hearing.

Keith was standing in front of him, biting his lip nervously, with only a fence separating them. They were on Lance's uncle's farm back in Cuba. Lance was in the overalls he used to wear when he was a kid, although now his muck boots only went up to his calves instead of his thighs.

He'd been having a nice time reminiscing the old days when his family used to take trips here in the summer to help out a little. Or rather, that's what his mom claimed they were doing. Truthfully he thinks she just brought them there for something to do when school let out.

Veronica and the older kids used to run around carrying hay and feeding pigs, but being the youngest definitely had its perks. He couldn't be expected to work when his boots barely fit him, right? Rachel used to hate when he pulled the "family baby excuse."

When he'd opened his eyes to find himself back here, it was like being hit by a wave of nostalgia. Not quite as bad as when he found his thoughts wandering to the beach at Veradero, but close enough to set off the homing beacon in his chest.

He'd just gotten to the barn, fully intent on petting his favorite horse – peanut butter – when Keith had appeared. Not exactly the first face he was hoping to see. And then he'd dropped the soulmate bomb on him.

"No." Lance shook his head, "No fucking way."

Keith's hands were balled into fists, and he seemed to be holding himself back from climbing over the rickety old wooden fence, "You have to believe me. It's been over a month, you have to remember at least one-"

"Look," Lance folded his arms, "can't you go bother someone else's head hole? Or go sharpen your knives, or whatever else weirdos like you dream about."

Keith took a step back, looking like Lance had shoved him, "I'm trying to tell you, I can't. I've been dreaming about you for almost a month! It's a soul link, that's the only explanation."

Lance narrowed his eyes, "Then why don't I remember any of this?"

Keith let out a sound of frustration, throwing his hands up, "I don't know! That's what I've been trying to figure out."

"Well maybe it's just Voltron messing with you because we don't get along."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours!" Lance shot back, "Maybe if you weren't so grumpy and stuck up, this wouldn't be happening. Did you ever consider that maybe, this might be your fault? That you might just be doing this to yourself?"

Keith looked like he was about to grind his teeth into shards, and Lance felt a savage sort of pleasure burning in his gut.

"It's not Voltron." Keith forged ahead while Lance was busy rolling his eyes, "You don't feel anything?"

"Nope. Nada. No way." Lance shook his head, "The universe isn't cruel enough to make the two of us each other's soulmates."

Keith made a noise like Lance punched him in the gut, and turned away before Lance could say anything else, storming off toward the house. Lance watched him go with a twisting feeling in his chest. He wasn't sure why Keith was taking this so hard, but he could tell he'd done some sort of damage.

Just as he was dredging up the courage to go after him, Lance's vision began to blur.

The next day Keith let a drone shoot lance in the back during training, and it took both Shiro and Allura to keep them from tearing each other to pieces.

A/N

Ouch… I've come to realize recently that the majority of my fics are just centered around torturing Keith… honestly the poor guy just needs a break lol. Maybe I'll write a fluffy story next, would anyone be interested in that? Or should I just stick to angst?

MDL