It's OK

by DeetsViBre

Lance is not OK. He needs to reach out to his teammates for help, but hes afraid. Rewriting yourself cost something, a deep pain with every edit. When Keith walks in on Hunk and Lance talking late into the night, things begin to change. Space is dangerous. (written during season 3, canon divergent after that) COMPLETE!

2. Three Days

Part 2- Three Days

The Castle of Lions was huge. Sometimes, Lance was convinced it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, like some Harry Potter magic type bullshit. It was so big, that one time he even lost his Lion.

When Lance discovered the Blue Lion was missing from her hanger, he panicked, and ran to Allura. He was frantically waving his arms and yelling about space pirate's abducting his beautiful blue lady, he was so upset he forgot to try and find Blue via their mental link.

But it turned out, Blue wasn't stolen. Allura explained that Blue probably went to the common hanger, and that's how Lance learned that such a place existed in the castle. It was located at the bottom of the ship directly in the middle, and was connected to each of the Lions individual hangers. The large common hangar was a circular room with five cubbies, one for each Lion. The back of the cubbies could open up into a path leading to each Lion's personal hangar so they could prepare for launch on a moment's notice.

It had only been two weeks into Lance's space journey when he learned that his Lion moved between the hangers independently, and chose to socialize with the other Lions. Even though he knew the mecha cats were sentient on some level, the idea that they desired to be in each other company, and that they could get lonely, really drove it home. From that day on Lance made a point to visit Blue more often.

Blue had been alone on earth for thousands of years, it must have been terrible, so it makes sense that she would reach out to Keith. Even if he wasn't her paladin, he was destined for Voltron, and Blue must have been desperate. But now she had Lance, and he could feel her incredible enthusiasm every time he visited. It was one of the things that helped him get through the rougher times, but Blue, like Hunk, couldn't fix everything.

The bathroom tile was cold through his jeans, and hurt his knees. Burning, awful retching, he was drowning.

The memory echoed through Lance.

A rumble started at the back of his neck, it was smooth as it trailed over his skin, and through his bones. It was the sun warming him from back to front, then it permeated his mind, and dried up his bad thoughts.

Suddenly, the feeling turned sharp, and it slapped him upside the head.

"I get it, I get it!" Lance pouted, but had trouble keeping the smile out of his voice.

Blue made it clear she did not approve of his current train of thought. It would be useful if their connection persisted at this strength from a distance, so that Lance could have a mental babysitter, but Blue was only able to directly communicate at close quarters. There were a few exceptions, extreme situations when the Lions knew that their Paladins were in danger. Aside from those instances, the bond weakened when they were apart, even if Lance was just in a another part of the castle, the link became only a compass, always pointing his mind at Blues location. But those rare instances made Lance wonder if they could deepen their bond somehow.

He pondered his hypothesis as he lounged on Blue's paw. They were in the common hanger, with Red and Black. The continuous flow of information that was exchanged between the Lions, their 'conversation', hummed in the back on Lance's mind. It was relaxing and also interesting. He knew what Blue was feeling and generally what she was saying, through a series of impressions, but he couldn't grasp anything the other Lions were projecting. He knew they were saying something, he could feel it because Blue did, but it was like listening to someone on the phone. He could hear Blues half of the conversation, but the others were just muffled voices on the other side of the receiver.

Lance stretched out, and let the flow of magical robot cat conversation rumble in the back of his mind. He was facing Black's cubby, which was directly across from Blue. He stared at the largest of the Lions, and his scalp tingled the same way it does when you're sure someones watching you. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as if fingers were hovering just an inch from his skin, and the anticipation of physical contact was crawling all over him.

Black was taunting him in that 'I'm not touching you' sort of way, and Lance wondered, not for the first time, if what Keith said months ago had any weight to it. At the time he had dismissed it, Lance wasn't a leader, he could barely keep himself together. But ever since Keith's confession that he thought Lance would have made a better leader when Shiro was gone, he couldn't help but pay more attention to the Black Lion, and Black seemed to be taking notice.

Blue pulled away from her conversation and pressed on Lance's mind.

A sharp jab of irritation was followed by a blanket of affection, and a little of what Lance thought might be insecurity.

"Don't worry beautiful, I'm not going anywhere," Lance responded.

Blue purred, and projected comfort.

"I was just wondering about the what if's, I still think Keith was wrong about me being leader material."

Denial, Blue responded.

Lance smiled, "Oh, So you think I could be leader?"

Affirmation and affection.

"Well, I guess I have no choice," Lance sighed dramatically and began to get up.

Confusion.

"You said I'm leader material, so I should go spend time with Black," Lance explained like it was obvious.

Blue growled so loud it physically pierced Lance's body. He was so surprised that he slipped and tumbled back onto Blue's paw.

"I was JOKING!"

Blue let out a sound that was distinctly laughter, even if it was rumbling and mechanical. But if Lance had any doubt, it was confirmed by a wave of amusement that came with it. The sound of Blue's laugh was echoed by the other two Lions in the hanger. Embarrassment flooded Lance and he ducked his head.

"Stupid magic mechs…" He grumbled.

"Woah, I have never seen Red respond to anyone but me." Keith appeared in front of Blue.

"Keith!" Lance yelled in surprise and clutched his chest, "Don't sneak up on people like that!"

Keith cocked his head, "I didn't. I just walked in through the door." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at said door.

"Umm… Right." Lance's embarrassment doubled and he felt himself blush. Keith really needed to stop tipping his head like a puppy, it was taking years off Lance's life. He tried to recover as the Lions settled down, but the heat that pooled under his skin stubbornly remained.

"I wouldn't say she was responding to me, more like at me... " Lance looked to the side and hoped his red face wasn't too obvious.

Keith smirked, "If you say so, Ace."

The gentle pull that always reached for Keith, tugged hard on Lance's heart. He couldn't help it when he smiled softly, but wasn't disappointed when Keith's smirk also softened, and his shoulders dropped from their normally defensive lift.

"So, what did you come here for?" Lance tried to lean back casually, and kind of pulled it off.

Keith shrugged, "I was actually looking for you."

"¿para mi?" Lance asked, and preened a bit. He had started speaking Spanish around Keith, and was surprised at how comfortable he was doing it. Once he started he couldn't stop. He liked to think it made them closer, that maybe Keith understood it was a sign of Lance's walls coming down.

"Umm… Yes?" Keith guessed.

Lance smirked and nodded, he loved when Keith tried to figure out what he was saying. Over the last few weeks he had improved a lot.

Keith smiled and got to the point, "I was thinking about what you said last night, about how to breathe while shooting and..."

Lance listened to Keith explain his thoughts, and they quickly struck up a conversation about sharpshooting. Their communication was smooth and comfortable in a way that seemed impossible only months ago, but that one night in the observation deck changed everything. Since their first friendly meeting they had continued to find each other when the others were sleeping or occupied. They didn't just meet on the observation deck, but in odd places all over the castle. Sometimes they talked -or argued- and, sometimes they just sat together. After the first three weeks, Lance brought up that he was thinking of training more, he told Keith a little about his anxiety (very little), and how Hunk had suggested a hobby. Lance expected some ridicule, or maybe a laugh, what he didn't expect was Keith's offer to help.

From that day forward they began to meet in the training deck, along with other nooks and crannies on the ship. It had started rough, they had a lot of fights, heavy angry ones, and light bantering spats. Lance would feel inferior when Keith casually beat him in hand to hand, and Keith would get frustrated easily when he couldn't control his breathing or still his hands. But they refused to give up on each other, it was some type of strange internal force that kept Lance coming back, and he knew Keith felt the same.

They trained, talked, and sometimes even dove into personal topics like they had the first night. It had been three months since their first meeting, but they never told the rest of the team, or acted any different when they were with the others. It wasn't something they had discussed, but they both kept quiet, It was a silent understanding that this time was theirs, and that anything said between them, stayed between them.

It wasn't hard to keep their team in the dark, they still argued and bickered, so continuing to act normal was easy. The only difference was the lack of actual malice in their fights (most of the time), that change drew in approving comments from Shiro and Allura about how the team bonding exercises were working, and then it was never brought up again.

Hunk hardly noticed the dynamic shifting between his friends, but he did notice the general upswing in Lance's mental state. There were still bad days and good days, but the bad days weren't world ending as often, and the good days were more plentiful. Hunk didn't push too hard when he asked about what changed. Lance could tell that Hunk didn't want to throw off whatever balance had formed.

The only downside to all the recent events between Lance and Keith, was Lance's crush. It was growing fast. It was a gremlin that someone fed after midnight level of bad, he was wildly and uncontrollably attracted to Keith. Along with the growth of his feelings, came the problem of hiding them, it was becoming hard to do.

"I'll see you tonight on the training deck, and I can try that breathing exercise." Keith smiled, and his face lit up with excitement.

This was the Keith that only Lance, and probably Shiro, got to see. He was relaxed, excited, and a little bit of a nerd about his interests. Seeing this side of Keith made Lance unfold parts of himself he normally held close, he wanted to completely open up so bad, and it scared him. Being closer to Keith had helped Lance so much, but it also made things harder. Now he had new things for his anxiety to latch onto. Lance was always worried he would mess up, and that Keith would decide not to be friends anymore. The same thoughts whirled around his mind, did he piss Keith off? Upset him? Was he talking too much? Could he tell that Lance liked him? So on and so forth...

"Yeah, I'll be there." Lance smiled back.

"See ya' later, Ace." Keith turned, and threw a small wave over his shoulder as he left.

The moment the hanger door closed Lance melted back onto Blue's paw, and groaned. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair. This was so bad, he was happy that he was friends with Keith, and didn't want to mess it up, but it was getting harder to act normal. Stupid, pretty Korean boy, and his stupid smile, and dumb, cute, nerdiness.

And that nickname, Ace. It started the very first night, and only in private, but every time Keith said it...

"Uhhhhhg..." The sound came from Lance's very soul.

He was saturated with his feelings for Keith. His entire body hummed with attraction, affection, and the desire to run after Keith every time he left the room.

Lance groaned again, quieter this time, as he threw his arm over his eyes. Blue purred for him and he sank into the feeling, only half aware of the conversation between the Lions picking back up.

"You better not be saying anything about my feelings to Red. I swear I will never fly you again if Red says anything to Keith," Lance grumbled.

Assurance was Blue's response.

"Thank you."

Ooo

Lance was still sprawled over Blue's paw an hour later. He was confused. The more he thought about his situations with Keith, the more confused he became. He was pretty sure that thinking something over was supposed to make it clearer, but that was apparently not the case for Lance.

Although Keith and him were much closer now, they still didn't talk about certain aspects of themselves. Lance wanted to open up like Hunk told him to, but he still couldn't shake his fear. The heavy disgust he sometimes felt for himself was what he feared in others. It had worn down his self confidence over years, he was weak from being flooded by anxious, panicked storms. He wasn't even sure he could explain his problems, Hunk just knew by experience, so it was easier with him. Were there words to adequately express what he sometimes went through? Would Keith think he was crazy?

To avoid talking about his feelings, Lance mostly talked about his family, his home, how much he missed rain.

"Man… I miss rain"

"You say that at least once a week, Ace."

Lance only briefly touched upon anything relating to his anxiety.

When Keith talked, it turned out to be the complete opposite experience, he talked about his feelings fairly openly (and awkwardly). He told Lance about his trouble communicating with people on a real level, how he wasn't good at bonding, and how he was always too nervous about saying the wrong thing. He told Lance about his anger problems, trust issues, and his fear of losing the few people he had. But the only time Keith's past came up was when he explained to Lance, very vaguely, about how his childhood was the reason for most of his emotional problems. Other than alluding to his past being harder than most peoples, he didn't talk about it. Except for some hilarious stories about Shiro.

"One time when Shiro, he hid under a car from his girlfriend's dad."

"That's hilarious!"

Lance rolled to his side, and ran his hands through his hair. It was at an irritating length, but he refused to cut it. It helped him feel better when he looked in the mirror, because no one could make him cut it. The sides were shaggy, and fell past the bottom of his ears. His fringe was just long enough to get in his eyes. It was driving him nuts. He huffed as the strands he just pushed back flopped onto his face again, he swiped them away, but they refused to stay put.

A spark of frustration ignited his pent up emotions. His breath caught when the familiar heat of panic seeped into his chest. Wet and heavy, it filled him with the burn of drowning. His mind was racing, how was he going to handle all his feelings for Keith, was he going to feel like this forever? Could he get over it, did he want to?

His feelings always got in the way.

Why was he such a fuck up?

He was too hot. Lance sat up and struggled out of his jacket, willing himself to calm down. But it wasn't working. In a fit of frustration Lance threw his jacket, and it hit the only thing on the nearby wall… because that was just his luck. Lance watched the overstuffed emergency kit tilt, and then fall. It exploded open when it landed, spewing rations, and first aid. Plus a tightly folded blanket burst out and unrolled. It's shiny red fabric looked entirely too thick to fit in the small pack.

Lance groaned. He was never going to get all of that to fit back in the bag! He couldn't fold a road map correctly, how was he going to get that blanket back in? He really was a fuck up...

A deep rumble started on the surface of his skin, and then sank into his body. It swept away his negative thoughts. Blue wrapped his mind in a warm hug that said, 'everything's OK'.

The sentiment was familiar.

Ooo

"todo va a estar bien, Lance." Maritza's words did little to comfort her brother, but her arm around his shoulders kept him grounded. He twisted a folded sheet of paper over, and over in his hands, while he focused on controlling his breathing.

The weathered, and uneven curb was uncomfortable to sit on, but that was the least of Lance's problems.

He was going to die, at the tender age of twelve.

"Mamás going to kill me," he whined.

The sun cascaded over the park that he and his sister sat in. it was the perfect temperature, with a gentle breeze, and Lance was out of school in the middle of the day. Normally this would be a wonderful thing, he and Maritza would get ice cream and go to the arcade, but not today.

"Don't be over dramatic." Maritza's tone betrayed her words, and she hugged her brother tighter to her side.

Lance didn't respond, they both knew he wasn't exaggerating about what their mother's reaction would be, his siblings might as well start divvying up his belongings.

Maritza sighed into the silence, "so how bad is it?"

Lance didn't respond, but his sister remained quiet, waiting. She knew the silence would get to Lance, and he knew he was going to lose, so he handed over the white paper he had been worrying. His sister always knew when to use a long silence to her advantage, it was Lance's weakness.

Maritza took the paper, and spent a moment untwisting the frayed mess, then her eyes scanned it quickly.

"This is bad," she said, because his sister wasn't the type to sugar coat.

Of course it was bad. He had called Maritza before his Mamá, which was a clear indicator of a worse case scenario. His oldest sister had always been there for him, from the moment he walked into her room at four years old, she watched out for him. He was the middle of six siblings and was sometimes overlooked by their mother, but never by Maritza.

When he started having problems with anxiety at a young age, she was the first to notice. She always reminded him that he was good, that he mattered, and that it was OK to make mistakes. She would tell him he was beautiful. But most importantly, at least in his current situation, Maritza often shielded Lance from the brunt of their mother's or Uncle's anger. Lance didn't have the advantage of being one the oldest in the house, or the baby, but he had her.

Maritza handed the paper back, "We can't cover this up, it's a whole week." She said with a hit of sympathy.

A small whine escaped Lance, "can't I just go someplace else during the day?"

"You're suspended from school, Lance. It's going to come up one day when Mamá's talking to your teachers, and it will be worse if she finds out like that."

His sister's logic overrode Lance's completely rational impulse to hide his suspension from their mother. Dread filled him, it washed through his body and met with his ever present anxiety. Lance pulled at the grass besides him compulsively, while he tried to remember to breathe.

Breathe, pull, breathe, pull, breathe, breathe, breathebreathebreathe.

"Lance, cálmese. Respire profunda y lentamente." Maritza rubbed his back slowly, and he adjusted his breathing to match her stokes.

"Sorry," Lance apologized on reflex.

Maritza squeezed him, "nothing to be sorry for."

They stayed in a comfortable silence while Lance fortified himself for what was coming next.

"Now what?" He asked, looking for guidance.

"Now, you tell me what happened from the beginning, so I am fully prepared when we tell mamá."

Lance didn't even get the first syllable out before Maritza cut him off.

"And no embellishments, Hot Shot," she said firmly, and smirked down at him.

"I didn't even-"

"I know you, Lance." Was the only explanation needed.

Lance placed his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He couldn't look at her. She was waiting patiently, her hair was in a loose bun, mussed up from her job. She left work because he called her, he was disrupting her day and she just sat there, relaxed and open. She wasn't angry at him in the slightest, but she should have been. What was wrong with him? He was drenched in a wave of frustration. Why did he think it was OK to bother his sister with this? A burning mixture of feelings was rising, and he didn't understand most of them, but he wanted to let himself sink below the surface.

He deserved it.

"Hey, Hot Shot," Maritza's tone was teasing, and she poked him in the side. "I can practically hear your depressing thoughts, knock it off."

Lance snorted. Maritza delivered the truth with a type of cadence that knocked him right out of his negative slump. He loved how blunt she was, and hoped she never changed.

Lance fell to the side, and rested his head on her shoulder.

"I punched Anton in the face…" He admitted to his crime quietly.

"What! Why?"

Her tone made Lance crinkle his nose and he sighed. It was a slow, and almost silent release of breath that he was sure his sister felt. It was an action more fit for an old man, than a twelve year old boy.

"I don't know…" He admitted with the last of his sigh's breath.

A delicate hand weaved into his very short hair, and down his back. Lance could feel his sister's intention through action alone. There was no judgment as she waited for him to continue.

"I was mad… because…" The sharp edge of fear grazed up Lance's spine, it was his mind warning him to keep quiet. He hesitated.

The warm hand slid between his shoulder blades, up his neck and back into his hair. It helped Lance find the words despite his fear. "Because… I… he… I like him."

Maritza chucked, "I would hope so, since you two are friends."

Lance didn't respond. He was scared, and it filled him to the brim. It pressed on his lungs, and burned his eyes.

The implication of his words became apparent, in the face of his silent tears.

"Oh, manito." Maritza pulled her little brother into a hug, "It's OK."

In the safety of her arms Lance let go of his insecurity.

"Is… it really... OK?" His voice cracked with his effort to speak above his own cries.

Maritza held him tighter, "Yes, Manito. Everything's OK."

Ooo

"All paladins please report to the control room."

Allura's voice echoed through Lance's reminiscing. Her tone was calm, so he didn't rush to his feet, but instead leisurely slid off of Blue's paw. His mind was heavy with faded memories. He ignore the mess he made, and left.

Lance was on edge. He was immersed in emotions, and it felt like they coated his body. At times like this, he was sure people could look at him and know his every thought.

He walked slowly towards the control room, voices echoed from the open door and rippled over his twitching skin. He shook his arms out, and took a breath right before he stepped into the room. He was the last to arrive, his eyes rested on everyone for a moment, except Keith, he intentionally skipped over his crush. When he spotted Allura, he sauntered over and leaned on the control panel next to her.

"You called, Princess?" He smoothed out on reflex with a smirked.

"Hello, Lance." Allura was looking at a large hologram of a planet, while entering data into the ship's computer. She didn't even glance at the Blue paladin as he pointed finger guns at her. She entered the final bit of information with a little flourish, and turned to face her team, still ignoring Lance who was standing next to her and not with the group.

"Paladins, I have called you together for a short briefing on our upcoming mission."

Lance leaned closer to the Princess, "You can brief me for any length of time-"

"Nope." Shiro's hand covered Lance's mouth before he could finish his bad pickup line. He got a grip on the back of Lance's jacket, pulled him into the group, and placed him between himself and Keith. Lance pouted and refused to look at Keith's smirking face. Dark eyes were boring into the side of Lance's head, stupid, deep eyes, that you could get lost in… A blush began to spread up his neck, and his thoughts were so loud, Lance was sure they were spilling out of him for everyone to see. Outwardly he only clenched his fist, and stared straight ahead.

Allura continued without missing a beat.

"This is the planet, Yeppeuda." She gestured to the hologram. It depicted a planet that was half water, with all of its major land masses in the Southern Hemisphere. "The civilization on this planet is highly advanced, and made up of a space faring race that has unified into one planet wide nation."

Allura waved her hand, and the hologram zoomed out to show the entire solar system that contained Yeppeuda. "As you can see, Yeppeuda is the only life supporting planet in their system, and thus has no nearby allies." She waved her hand again to zoom out some more, and pointed to the next closest system. "This is the Purpura system."

She paused in her explanation as everyone looked at the Purpura system, it was completely covered in the red that indicated it was Glara controlled territory.

Shiro spoke up, "so, the Galra from Purpura are invading Yeppeuda and... we need to save them?" His statement tapered into a question.

"That's just it!" Allura excitedly waved her hand to zoom all the way back into Yeppeuda, and pointed at it accusingly, "They aren't under attack or Galra control!"

"Wait…" Keith drew everyone's attention, "There's a highly advanced planet, that's all alone, right next to Glara territory, and they haven't taken it?"

Keith's voice struck a match inside Lance, igniting his building emotions, and he felt like everyone could feel its heat. It pushed him over the edge he had been skirting, and he lashed out on reflex to cover his insecurity.

"Yeah, Idiot. The Princess just got done saying that." His words were mild, but the acid that dripped from them was thick. He hated himself before he finished the sentence. Why was he like this?

Lance didn't need to look at Keith to know he was hurt, and angry, it was all in his voice.

"I'm an idiot? Well at least I'm not an asshole who-"

"Asshole?! You're the asshole!" Very good Lance, great comeback… He wanted to stop but his mouth ran away from him.

"Me?! I wasn't even saying anything to you!" The anger was draining from Keith, and he sounded confused, and indignant.

"I just hate your dumb voice when-"

"Boys." Shiro's dad-voice had an edge, sharpened by his second imprisonment. Everyone fell silent.

There was an empty moment, that was filled by Lance's shame, and Keith's hurt, but Allura smothered it by picking up the briefing.

"Keith is correct in his assessment, and subsequent confusion. The fact that the Galra haven't taken Yeppeuda is the reason we are going there. With the long lull in our fight against the Galra it is the perfect time to gather some intel."

"OOOOOH! Like we get to go undercover and stuff!? Like SPIES!" Hunk was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Lance would have been right there with him if he wasn't wallowing in self pity.

Allura clapped her hands together, "Yes! Very much like spies!"

"And you said they were an advanced civilization?" Pidge joined in with stars in their eyes.

"Very advanced," Allura assured. "This will be a perfect opportunity for us to see what we can integrate into our own technology."

"YES! Lets wormhole there now." Pidge motioned Allura to the control station, but she sidestepped the youngest paladin.

"That's another thing I called you here to talk about, we can't wormhole there."

"Why not?" Pidge asked, falling back into their usual irritation.

"Well, it's not that we can't, it's that we shouldn't," Allura amended.

Coran practically danced up to the control panel, and picked up the explanation where Allura had trailed off. "You see, Wormholes give off a very distinct frequency of quintessence radiation, it is unique to each type of wormhole depending on the technology that created it."

He waved his hand at the control panel, and suddenly the planet Yeppeuda was replaced with a mass of seemingly random squiggles. He pointed at a chaotic orange one, "This is the Megadon frequency given off by wormholes created by the Choego people." He pointed to another squiggle that was pink, "and this cute little guy is the ilgagsu frequency from-"

Allura half pushed, and half shooed Coran away from the projection. "Yes, Coran is quite right. We can't wormhole that close to Galra territory without risking them picking up our wormhole frequency on their scanners."

Pidge's shoulders drooped, and they pouted childishly, "Can we at least wormhole closer to cut travel time?"

"Yeah! How soon do we get to be spies?" Hunk almost knocked Pidge to the floor in his haste to get to the front of the group. He stopped in front of Allura with his hands clasped together, "And do we get costumes? Can we be pirates? OH, we could be space heroes!"

Shiro chuckled while pulling Hunk back by his shoulder, and out of the Princess's personal space. "We already are space heroes, Hunk."

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck, "I meant like the rugged, dark past type."

Everyone laughed. Even Keith was pulled from his brooding irritation and cracked a smile, but Lance stayed quiet as he backed out of the group slowly. He found a crack, and slipped into it, hoping there was an escape on the other side. Everyone continued to debate what costumes they should wear for their imaginary undercover spy mission, as Lance slid away to the door. He heard Allura explain that the closest they could wormhole would leave three days of travel, and then there was silence when the door slid closed.

Ooo

The castle had been lit with the calming blue of night mode for hours, and Lance sat alone on the training deck. He wasn't super hopeful that Keith would show up, he sounded really mad when they argued earlier, and Lance wouldn't blame him if he bailed on their meeting. He wouldn't blame Keith if he decided to bail on their entire friendship…

Shame still wriggled under Lance's skin, making him feel sick to his stomach. He hadn't snapped at Keith like that in months. Thinking back on the situation he didn't really remember what led up to him lashing out, it was a blur of heat and embarrassment, that flooded every corner of his brain until he short circuited.

Lance's fingers moved fluidly. Two long metal sticks flicked back and forth, as a ball of something similar to yarn slowly unraveled next to him. The last time they had stopped at a space mall Lance had found the metal sticks that were remarkably like knitting needles, the store clerk said they were parts for some type of engine. He had also found a store full of different cloths, threads, and yarns, although it wasn't exactly like yarn (it was smoother), and they didn't call it yarn, it still served the same purpose.

Lance's mind fretted away as his hands continued to work the yarn into a thin sweater with many arm holes, he was going to give it to Slav the next time they met with the Blade. Keith was almost like a member of the Blade… the fresh reminder of his supremely stupid behavior sent Lance crashing into the cold water of self loathing.

Why did he always have to fuck everyth-

The sound of the door opening, and swishing shut, caused his muscles to twitch, and his shoulders to bunch up to his ears. The shame bled into mortification, and it vibrated through him so fast it became a rushing between his ears, but it ironically derailed his negative thoughts.

The sound of clothes rustling preceded the soft thump of someone sitting on the floor to Lance's left.

"I still can't believe you knit." Keith's voice broke through the chaos of Lance's mind with ease. He didn't respond for a long moment, but looked away from his work to focus on Keith, he didn't look mad. Lance's shame returned, underlining a cool wind of relief, selfish relief that Keith wasn't upset with him.

"My abuela taught me how, when I was a kid I had issues… staying still. This helped." Lance stopped knitting to try and push his irritating bangs out of his eyes. He reached out to put a hand on Keith's shoulder, and apologize for being an ass.

Keith leaned sideways, expertly avoiding Lance's touch, and then pushed Lance with his shoulder, "You, an energetic kid?" He joked.

Lance dropped his knitting to catch himself before he fell over. He pushed himself away from the floor to shoulder check Keith in return, sending him sprawling to the floor on his side. The rush of excitement from rough housing ebbed when Keith didn't sit back up immediately. Lance worried he had crossed a line, he had noticed that Keith didn't accept much contact besides sparing, and the occasional fist bump.

"You're OK, right?" Keith asked, while still laying on his side. He sounded worried.

Lance didn't know what to say, he felt like he should be the one asking that.

Keith continued with obvious concern, as he set back up. "I was worried after you snapped at me, because then you just left. It was very un-Lance like."

Why was he worried about Lance? He should be hurt or angry, it would be more in character for him to still be mad, not concerned. But it seemed that Keith had learned to understand Lance, and their growing friendship allowed him the benefit of Keith's doubt. Lance couldn't deny that it made him happy, the feeling was warm and tingly, and it filled him up. It pushed aside many less than pleasant feelings.

"I'm fine, I uhhh…" Lance couldn't tell him that he freaked out because his huge crush overwhelmed his dumb, anxiety ridden brain.

Keith tipped his head, clearly waited for an explanation, and all the half assed excuses Lance had been formulating were wiped from his mind. Why did Keith have to be so fucking cute? The sheer force of his attraction hit him like a semi-truck.

"Will you stop doing that!" Lance yelled, and immediately regretted it. Why couldn't he control his damn mouth around Keith?!

Keith tipped his head the other way, "Doing what?"

"That- the thing- you...you." Lance choked on his words. He couldn't admit why he was so flustered, so he changed the topic as smoothly as he could. "Lets just train!" He yelled and jumped to his feet.

Real smooth McClain...

Keith sighed and stood up, "OK... but am I missing something? I told you that I have trouble with social cues sometimes..." his words faded into uncertainty. With the slight shift of Keith's stance, he visibly closed off. As reckless, and bullheaded as he was, Lance knew he was still unsure when it came to his people skills. The more Lance got to know him, the more Keith let his insecurities show when it came to their friendship.

Lance waved his hands around in denial, "No, no, you're fine. I'm just having an off day." He owed Keith more than a lame excuse, he took a fortifying breath. "Sometimes I get… nervous, and it overwhelms me. I don't react well in those moments…"

Keith turned to face Lance, and the tense line of his body unfurled with the movement. "Come on, Ace. Let's set up the shooting range," he suggested, offering an opening to let the topic drop.

Keith didn't press Lance to tell him why he was nervous, he wasn't that type of person. Keith only took what he was given, a behavior that always pulled on Lance's heart with sadness, but it never stopped him from taking advantage when it was convenient. Like right now.

Ooo

"Breathe in slowly while taking aim, hold for ten seconds, be sure you have the target and… Shoot!"

The ping of the shot hitting the target was satisfying.

"YES!" Keith sat up and practically threw his practice rifle into the air. He was sitting in a sniper's net created by the training room.

Lance was next to him bouncing in place. "Great shot!"

Keith turned to his makeshift instructor, "Shit, I don't know how you do it, Ace. I have seen you make that shot three times in a row while moving."

Lance crossed his arms and smirked, "While I was moving and the targets were moving, actually."

Keith laughed, sat back, and put the rifle down between them. He looked like he was basking in his success. It was not something Lance had seen him do before, and he committed it to memory.

"How did you get so good at shooting? I know you took the required classes at the Garrison, but you could have competed professionally." Keith said, completely comfortable with the string of compliments that he just gave.

Ever since Lance let his over the top persona fade away while they were alone, Keith had become much looser with his positive reinforcement. Lance had a suspicion that Keith might have caught onto his insecurity issue, but he wasn't really complaining. It was kinda nice.

Lance blushed, and ran his hand through his shaggy hair. "There was a huge arcade by my house. It had a ton of those VR shooting games that mimicked real life environments."

"So, you were an arcade rat," Keith concluded.

"Hey! I will have you know, I held the high score on all the VR shooting ranges in that arcade! They called me Hot Shot." Lance made the appropriate dramatic arm movements as he defended his arcade honor.

Keith smirked, "now, I'm positive you were an arcade rat, Ace." He said the nickname mockingly this time.

"Was NOT!" Lance crossed his arms, leaned back against the wall and pouted. He wasn't really mad, but he enjoyed their banter. He felt centered when they were together like this, it made him comfortable being himself, even if later he would fret over every moment of their interaction.

Keith waited for Lance to finish his mock pouting in silence. He scooted back until he was also leaning against the wall. They were cramped in the sniper's nest, but Keith managed to keep any part of them from touching.

Much to Lance's annoyance, Keith had figured out early on in their friendship that staying quiet was the best way to get Lance to talk. After a solid minute of silence he gave in.

"My older sister used to take me to that arcade all the time, she was the one who called me Hot Shot. But I really did hold the top score in all of them," Lance huffed.A

"Which sister, Angella or Emma? Neither one sounded like the arcade type from what you've told me."

Lance's heart clenched, suddenly crushed by the walls he put around it, and he could almost smell the warm ocean air. He didn't want to go into that topic.

"Your face is an arcade type!" He derailed the conversation at the expense of looking like an idiot.

Keith sputtered, "What does that even mean?"

Lance threw his hands up, "Whatever, let's just get to the hand to hand combat."

Ooo

A thrill overtook Lance, as he arced gracefully through the air. Then it was quickly crushed by the heavy fear of the pain he anticipated.

"AHHHH- OOHF."

Lance's back met the padded floor with a hearty smack. He groaned, and rolled to his side, wheezing for the air that had been physically slapped from his lungs. All good things come to an end, but why was it always physical pain with Keith? The sadist.

"Why am... I so bad... at this?" He asked between breaths.

Keith stood over Lance, leaned forward, and literally spoke down to him. "You really didn't do that bad, you lasted a whole minute this time, before I kicked your ass."

Lance waved his sweaty arm in the direction of Keith's face, "don't you patronize me."

"Oooh, big words," Keith mocked.

Lance Laughed and sat up slowly. He could tell when Keith was actually trying to be mean, and when he was just joking. It used to be hard to tell the difference, which was part of the reason they fought so much. Now he felt like he had a good handle on reading Keith.

"That's me, proprietor of big words for substantial colloquy," Lance boasted, hands on his hips.

Keith threw a towel in Lance's face and chuckled. "Clean up, we're moving onto duo training."

Lance groaned, as he pulled the towel down around his neck, "¡Anda ya! is that all you ever want to do?"

Keith took a sip of his water pouch, and pretended to consider the question.

"Yes."

"Fine," Lance huffed, but he relented. He stood and began to help set up the equipment they needed, muttering some choice words in spanish as he went.

Truthfully, Lance was excited about their duo training, not that he would admit it. He had thought that hand to hand would be the best part of training with Keith, and the theory made sense on the surface. When they spared, Lance got to be close to Keith, and they touched, and grappled… but it wasn't really what he imagined it would be like. It wasn't exciting when the touches were sharp jabs to his solar plexus, or sent him hurtling into the mat. The grappling was even worse, having Keith on top of you wasn't all that great when he was digging his fingers mercilessly into a pressure point, or bending Lance's arms in directions they weren't supposed to go. Lance was disillusioned very quickly, it didn't pan out the way it did in romance novels. It hurt, and not in the good way. On the bright side, he felt his body becoming toned with all the sparing.

Lance also had to reevaluate all the times he was jealous of Shiro and Keith training one on one, if this was what they did, then he was stupid for envying Shiro so much.

Lance decided his favorite part of training with Keith was their duo training. When they worked together using their own specialized fighting styles, it was awesome. Lance was either in the sniper's nest, or on ground level covering Keith, while the Red Paladin took on the droids in hand to hand, or with his sword. Over the last couple months of training they had become a well oiled machine, their improvements working together far outstripped any progress they had made trying to learn each other's craft.

Tonight they practiced with Lance in the sniper's nest for the first part, and then stimulated his perch crumbling, and causing him to switch to ground cover. Slowly the droids pushed him to Keith so that he could practice close range cover. He flipped his bayard, and it transformed into a smaller, more maneuverable close range handgun, a trick he perfected only a week ago.

The program they executed was designed by them together. Lance, by accident, discovered that the training room had a user friendly holo interface. It worked in tandem with its voice activated functions, and allowed them to create programs for training. The only problem was that they needed to know how to read Altean to use it. Lance had volunteered to study the language far enough to use the training room properly. It was a perfect opportunity for him to pick up another distracting hobby, and within a few weeks he had learned enough for them to start cobbling together some programs. Lance liked languages, but never stuck to one long enough to become fluent, other than english. With Altean, he decided to break that habit, something about the language was attractive, and so he continued to study it long after they met their goal.

Keith had been surprised, he tried to cover it up, but Lance could tell that Keith hadn't expected him to stick to his word, or get it done so fast. Lance didn't blame him. He had never given anyone a reason to think he was particularly smart, it wasn't intentionally, it just sorta worked out that way. Lance was always either overwhelmed with social energy and being silly, or trying to overcompensate to cover his insecurities. The only person who would have seen it coming was Hunk, and maybe Pidge, who was too observant for their own good.

Lance and Keith were on their backs, sprawled across the floor, the tops of their heads were touching as they tried to catch their breaths. The program deactivated automatically when they finished, now they just needed to collect the energy to get up.

Lance's body hummed. Chaotic waves of happiness stirred in his chest before they crested in his heart, and it ached. It was a painful joy. This was the feeling he soaked in every time they finished their duo training, he felt so in sync with Keith, it was crazy. Only this time it was better. Lance could almost feel Keith's heat lingering in the back of his mind.

"I think... that was the first time... we finished that damn program... without messing up." Keith managed to get out between gasps.

Lance put one of his fists in the air over his head so Keith could see it, "Yes it was, my man."

Keith weakly lifted his own fist, and tiredly tapped it against Lance's from their awkward position.

"Pool?" Lance asked.

Keith let his arm flop back to the mat, "yeah Ace, just give me a minute. Still tired."

Ooo

"Do you remember the Bloodsplotion people?" Lance's voice echoed in the white tiled pool room.

"What?"

Both boys were floating carelessly through the water on their backs, staring at the ceiling of the room… Which was the floor when you entered… Their up had become their down, and it hurt Lance's head to think about. All he knew was that everything flipped when you climbed the ladder to the pool.

"You know, the people who fought using their blood? They could make it explode and stuff? Remember how their name was only consonants, and no one could say it except Corran." Lance splashed with his arms as he explained.

He could hear Keith moving, creating ripples in the water, but he was somewhere behind Lance. When Keith responded, his voice was electricity that arced over Lance's skin.

"Blood… Splotion? Are you just putting the word blood and explosion together?" Keith laughed, because sometimes the simplest forms of comedy were new to him, and thus still funny.

Lance swallowed thickly, and tried to collect himself, "Uh, yeah. I wanted to call them Blootion, but Hunk said it sounded like something gross."

"Hunk's right, it does sound gross." Keith laughed again, and his voice was surprisingly close. It shocked Lance, but he bit down on the impulse to pull away, and allowed the motion dissipated into a shiver.

"Yeah… yeah, it does." Lance agreed. His words faded into a whisper when he turned and saw Keith floating by his ear. His hair was a storm cloud, billowing out around his head, in perfect contrast to his smooth skin. His eyes were closed, and Lance stared at the profile of his well organized features. He looked so relaxed, something that was happening more often lately. His breaths were slow, and his face wasn't pulled tight by the awful thoughts that Lance knew he was plagued by sometimes.

Lance was pleased that Keith was so relaxed with him, maybe in part because of him. He remembered all those months ago when he had wanted to help Keith, now it seems they helped each other a little bit. Lance was still scared of his feelings for Keith, more so now that they've grown out of control, and were victim to his anxiety. But they were still warm, and continued to ebb and flow with the boy next to him. Only now, he had some influence over them, because he was Keith's friend, which meant Lance could spend time with him, to try and sooth his raging emotions.

"So, why were you bringing up the Bloodspl-"

"What are you two doing?" A voice from the entrance interrupted Keith.

Both boys in the pool looked up… or down, or whatever. Pidge was standing in the doorway looking at them.

"Swimming," Keith said, delivered with an undeniable 'duh' subtext.

Lance had to stifle a laugh, the look on Pidges face was priceless, it was torn between irritation and laughter. Lance had discovered that Keith could be very sassy, in a dry humor sorta way, the more relaxed he was, the more sassy he became. Lance assumed the only other team member to see Keith this relaxed was Shiro.

"Do... you guys to this often?" Pidge asked slowly.

"No," Both boys responded at the same time, calmly. The desire to look at Keith was strong. but Lance restrained himself in the name of believability. This was the first time anyone had caught them hanging out like this. Lance hoped Pidge couldn't see him shaking with nerves.

"Ok…" Pidge didn't sound convinced.

"I just wanted to swim, but Mullet head over here was hogging the pool," Lance snapped.

"I was here first, you tried to kick me out!" Keith barked back.

"I'm the pilot of the Blue Lion, so I should have more right to the pool than-"

"SHUT UP! You guys should be sleeping, we are wormholing really early tomorrow." Pidge cut off the bickering and pushed up their glasses in aggravation.

"What about you? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Keith demanded.

"Yeah, and you're not even in a swimsuit, what are you doing in here?" Lance crossed his arms and put on his determined face.

Pidge's nose scrunched up, and their shoulders dipped when they realized that they had become the focus of Lance and Keith's combined irritation.

"Sometimes I come in here to work, because I like to put my feet in the water!" Pidge threw one of their arms up in frustration, the other was holding a tablet.

"Oh… well, don't let us stop you." Lance shrugged, and began swimming around casually.

"If either of us is stopping them it's you, being pool Hitler." Keith grouched while paddling around, it was comical, but Lance had to hold back his laughter..

"Did you just call me HITLER?!" Lance stopped his casual stroke, and slapped water in Keith's face.

Keith retaliated, and they devolved into a petty splash war. They were yelling insults that were drowned out by the sound of their own flailing,

"Never mind, I'll just go find someplace quieter." The boys didn't even pause in their fight to acknowledge Pidge, who left the room in a huff, muttering about assholes that make it impossible to work.

As soon as the door hissed closed Lance and Keith stopped splashing.

"Well fuck, that was easy…" Keith muttered, and immediately returned to floating on his back.

Lance watched him for a moment, his eyes quickly roamed over every inch of exposed skin before he forced himself to stop. He recently decided to make an effort to not torture himself. He fell back, and floated in the water alongside Keith.

"We put on a good show," Lance agreed.

"So, why were you bringing up the Bloodsplotion people?" Keith waved his arms through the water slowly.

Lance chuckled, "Remember when Hunk saved that Bloodsplotion girl from the rampaging, fanged, horse thing with eight legs?"

Keith snorted loudly, a sound that would never pass his lips in front of the rest of the team. "Yeah, he got that cut on his head, and the girl freaked out over his blood. I wasn't sure if she was going to eat him, or fuck him, maybe both."

Lance would have choked at such a blunt statement coming from his reserved teammate only a couple of months ago. But once you became Keith's friend, he apparently dropped his filter… or in retrospect, Lance decided he never had a filter. Keith just didn't talk much in front of people, and when he did talk, it was almost always restricted to voltron business, and team building stuff. Honestly, it just made Lance like Keith more.

"Well…" Lance whispered, and swam a little closer to Keith, "I overheard Allura and Shiro talking and…"

"Yeah?" Keith whispered back, not questioning why they were being so quiet.

Lance smirked and continued at a conspiratorial volume. "It turns out, you aren't far off the mark. Spilling blood for someone on that planet means you have to become their life mate."

Keith practically barked his laugh, and it echoed around the room. "That explains why Hunk was so pale for days after, I bet Shiro told him."

Lance snorted into the water, "Yeah, it's like that time, on the planet with the crazy haired people, and the fruit that you shared with your intended, or whatever. Hunk was one bite away from being married that time too."

They laughed together, long and hard.

Lance knew he should go to bed, that he would regret this in the morning, but Keith kept bringing up more stories, and Lance let him drag the evening out. He had the feeling Keith didn't want to sleep either.

Ooo

Lance regretted many things, but at the top of his list right now, was not listening to Pidge the night before. He should have gone to sleep a little earlier, but he lost track of time in the pool. When the idea of sleep would begin to creep into Lance's mind, Keith would bring up another hilarious story, and Lance would get distracted. Now he was strapped into his seat in the control room, trying to stay awake, as Allura prepared for a wormhole.

Wormhole travel... did very little for the heavy exhaustion that was weighing down Lance's eyelids. It used to be exciting when they would make a jump. Now, it was a common event in his life.

The castle jostled as they exited the portal, and Lance's tired body swayed in his seat.

"All right Paladins, you may go about your day. We have team training later so be prepared!" Allura announced, she was a ray of sunshine that morning. Lance was too tired to even try and flirt. He squinted his eyes to block some of her shining personality, unbuckled his harness, and wandered off to the lounge for a nap on the circular couch.

Lance spread out on the cushions, and sighed. He hoped that training later wasn't mind melding. It was becoming harder and harder to not think about Keith all the time, and he was terrified he would slip up and everyone would find out. He was lucky the mind melding was only images, and not a transfer of emotion, or he would already be in deep shit. As it stands now, it takes all his effort to not project a picture of Keith with his head tipped to the side, looking adorable.

He was worried every time they formed Voltron, that someone would notice his crush, even though he knew it was unlikely. Their minds were well like mixed paint, and no single feeling could be picked out. You could tell if dark or light colors were used, and what those colors might have been, but no specific hues. What they experienced during the bond was literally the average of all their feelings at the same time.

Lance closed his eyes, and his worries floated around his head as he slipped into sleep.

That's how he began day one of the trip to Yeppeuda.

Ooo

Some time later, Lance's consciousness began to float to the surface, despite the oppressive weight that tried to press him back into sleep. Someone was rustling around besides him, the sound impedes Lance's attempt to slip back into his nap. At first, he thought it was Keith. Sometimes during their late night hang outs, one of them would fall asleep, normally it was Lance.

A subtle, and fluid heat dripped into Lance's chest, and spread down his limbs. It rose to the surface of his skin.

Then the person made a small sound, and it was distinctly female. It sounded like Allura.

The heat died, and cold surprise knocked the breath from Lance. Allura must have heard it, because she called his name.

"Lance?" her tone was soft, nothing like how she usually spoke to him.

He couldn't fool her into thinking he was still asleep, so he didn't try, and instead opened his eyes.

Lance used to have daydreams about waking up next to the Princess, and now it was happening, sort of, and all he felt was disappointment because she wasn't Keith. His feelings for Allura were superficial from the beginning, but now, they were so completely eclipsed by his much deeper feelings for Keith, that they were almost nonexistent.

Lance sat up and politely smiled. They were alone in the lounge, and with no one around to impress he didn't have it in him to flirt with her. Instead he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and apologized.

"Sorry, Princess. I didn't mean to nap for so long. Did I miss training?" Now that he had a moment to wake up, he realized how odd it was for Allura to be there, alone, while he was sleeping. He ignored the fact that if it was Keith, he would have been happy, rather than a little creeped out.

Allura gave Lance a puzzled look, seemingly finding something odd as well.

"Are you, OK?" She asked, in the same soft voice that was probably meant to sooth Lance, but was honestly just unsettling, because it was so far outside their usual dynamic.

Lance wasn't sure if he was OK. There was a cold pressure on his chest. It was familiar, but unwanted, and its arrival weighed his limbs down with the feeling of 'not again'. He tried to wave it off, it was probably just his messed up sleep cycle rebounding. His inability to say no to Keith, was really starting to mess with his well being.

Lance dredged up some of his usual enthusiasm from under the weight, and smirked, "I'm fine, just didn't sleep well last night. Why? Are you worried, Princess?" He managed some swagger at the end, along with a small eyebrow wiggle. It made him feel dirty, like he was cheating.

"And, what if I am?" Allura countered, and she looked unusually smug.

Lance sputtered, his entire brain came to a crashing halt. Did the Princess just respond to his flirting with something other than disdain?

Allura giggled, "You really wouldn't know what to do if I responded to your advances, would you?" She covered her mouth as she laughed at him, but her eyes were warm, and he could tell she wasn't trying to be mean. She never would have backed him into a corner like this if they hadn't been alone, it wasn't in her nature to be cruel like that.

Lance chuckled along with her, because she wasn't wrong. He didn't have a lot of experience, and even when he was legitimately trying to win her affection, he probably wouldn't have known what to do if he got it. Especially because she was so very much out of his league, just like Keith.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." Lance backed his words up with a natural smile.

"Good, you were acting out of sorts a while back, although in the last several quintent you have seemed better."

Alluras earnest words pulled Lance's smile into a frown. Damn, was he losing his touch?

"You noticed that?" He asked, more fear leaked into his words than he intended.

Allura must have picked up on his fear because she rushed to reassure him. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed. Shiro only mentioned Voltron feeling strangely heavy. I took it upon myself to study the team and find the source, but when I figured out it was you, I wasn't sure how to approach the subject, and then you started to improve, and Shiro commented that Voltron felt better than before and… I'm rambling aren't I?"

Lance laughed, it was open and warm, and the weight on his chest lessened. He had never seen the Princess so flustered before, and over him of all things. Sometime, Lance forgot how seriously Allura took her position as the commander of Voltron, and how inexperienced she was at some aspects of it. She wasn't much older than himself, and had suddenly gained the responsibility of the known universe. She probably felt like it was her duty to keep the Paladins in good shape, not just physically, but also mentally, and she had no idea how to go about accomplishing the second part. If Lance had been in her place, he wouldn't have known how to approach himself either.

Even the Princess was awkward sometimes, and that knowledge made Lance want to put her at ease, because his desire to help others often overrode his own discomfort, he liked to call it his 'crisis mode'.

"Is that the reason you were creepily hanging around me while I was sleeping… all alone… and vulnerable?" He pulled a horrified face, as he poked fun at her in a way he normally reserved for Hunk or Pidge, and secretly Keith.

"I was NOT being creepy!" Allura defended with a huff, but her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. She reached to her left, pulled out a familiar bag and thrust it at Lance. "I was also here to give you this!"

All of Lance's confidence drained into his stomach, and cooled into a hard pit. He took his knitting bag from her and didn't bother to try and hide his red face. He wanted to sink into the floor and cease to exist, because Allura knew he knitted. He sighed, tired of his own fluctuating emotions.

"I found it in the training room, and Hunk said it was yours." She elaborated when Lance just sat in mortified silence.

He was going to kill Hunk. it was common knowledge in Lance's family that he knitted, and that included his big cuddly best friend, but he didn't often tell people. A wave of embarrassment pressed down Lance's words, and he couldn't break the surface to respond.

"What is it?" Allura asked, and pointed at the bag.

Lance wanted to slap himself in the face, or scream, or do anything to relieve the jumble of mixed emotions that flooded him. He wasn't sure if her not knowing about knitting was better, or worse. He could explain it and hope she didn't judge him, or he could say nothing and run… or he could lie. Lance pondered the third option for a second, and then dismissed it. He could imagine the hundreds of ways that could go wrong in a sitcom episode sort of way.

He settled on just explaining it to her. Of all the things he kept to himself, this wasn't that bad, right? His friends wouldn't care, they were in space for crying out loud, who gave a shit about gender roles in space? He knew being worried about it in the first place was stupid, he just couldn't help it. An entire lifetime worth of being told to 'man up' or be the 'man of the family' was hard to shake off. But here was his chance to start over, in space, talking to a Princess, who probably had no idea about earth gender role to begin with.

"It's my knitting stuff." He pushed the words out, past layers of conditioning.

"Knitting?" It was clear the word meant nothing to her. Lance let the rising panic wash away with that realization. The translator couldn't define words that had no equivalent in Altean, and Lance couldn't think of a word from his time studying the language, but there had to be something similar to knitting in her culture.

"Crocheting?" He tried.

She shook her head.

"Weaving?"

A spark of recognition, "Yes, we do that with our hair, when we put it up."

"We call that braiding," Lance responded automatically. But then the meaning of what Allura said sank in. She had no concept of crafting clothes by hand. She didn't even relate weaving to baskets or fabric, only to hair styles.

"How did people on Altea make clothes?" Lance asked slowly.

"Make them?" She looked honestly perplexed, "people bought clothes. Does earth not have clothing shops?"

Lance laughed nervously, "Uh, yeah we do… but what about like… fashion designers and stuff, where did your clothes come from?"

The confusion cleared from Allura's face, "Oh, you mean clothes synthesizers."

"What?" Lance had a picture in his head of what a clothes synthesizer would be, but he had trouble believing it was real. Earth had machines that made clothes, but they were limited, and someone had to design the clothes and make it by hand first.

"You know, a clothes synthesizer. You input a design and the computer makes it, people with exceptional design skills came up with some very popular outfits." Allura explains in her usual chipper tone.

Lance put his face in his hands for a moment, he has trouble wrapping his head around the idea of a magic clothes machine. More accurately, he has trouble accepting that someone existed who had no idea where clothes came from. Was it because Altea was so advanced, or was it because Allura was so high class, being royalty and all? Lance remembered the space mall store that he got the 'yarn' from, and decided it was probably a mix of both. Life in space never ceased to be interesting.

"What about the cloth your clothes are made of?" He asked, trying to work backwards to figure this out.

Allura tapped her chin in thought. "The synthesizer makes the cloth at the same time as the clothes." She sighed, "the castle synthesizer hasn't worked since we woke up, Coran, Pidge and Hunk can't seem to figure out why."

Lance rubbed his shaggy hair and laughed, it came out high and strained. He has no basis for interacting with Allura like this, they almost never spoke casually and alone. The entire situation is very reminiscent of the night on the observation deck when he first became friends with Keith, except less terrifying, because he didn't have a debilitating crush on the Princess. Thinking back on that night helped Lance relax, he should employ the same strategy he did back then, treat Allura as if she were Hunk.

Lance looked at her dress carefully, and for the first time realized there were almost no seams, except for aesthetic use. Lance could imagine a machine creating the dress in one big piece, like a 3D printer. This is going to somewhat like trying to explain how to make a snowman to someone who doesn't know what snow or a man is.

"Why don't I just show you?" His voice cracked, and he pushed down the desire to smack himself for it. All those times he wanted to get Allura alone, he never thought that their activity would be knitting when he finally did.

Allura smiled, it was bright and excited. "Yes!"

Lance would have expected her to be more wary of him after all the time he spent hitting on her, but she wasn't. She was genuinely interested in what he had to say, and not at all uncomfortable sitting alone with him. He wondered if this was an indication of her level of self preservation.

Lance came to terms with two things simultaneously. First, Allura must have never taken his pick up lines seriously, even at the beginning when he was trying, and second, he had been stunting the growth of any friendship between them by insistently flirting with her.

Another thought drapes itself casually over Lance's mind, did the Princess have any friends? Not mentors like Corran, or a co-leader like Shiro, but a real friend. She had the mice… Lance crinkled his nose at that thought. What it boiled down to, was that Allura wasn't close to anyone on the ship as a friend. The nearest thing she had was Shiro, but they only ever talked about war and artfully avoided their romantic tension.

Lance felt a stab of pity, and expertly veiled it, he knew the Princess wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. She was smiling, and patiently waiting for him to demonstrate knitting, while radiating innocent curiosity, and it pulled a smile out of him.

Lance took out the big needles and yarn with a flourish. He carefully detached the Slav sweater he was making and set up with a new ball of puffy blue yarn. He allowed himself to fall into a comfortable place between himself and who he pretended to be, it came much easier than expected. He was nowhere near as open as he was with Hunk, or even Keith, but he dropped the overcompensation and flirting. Lance felt like it was time to put that behavior behind him in Allura's case. Maybe he didn't need to hide behind it as much anymore.

"Knitting is one way people make clothes, without the clothes synthesizer thingy." Lance smirked -without eyebrow waggle- and began a garter stitch. "Right now, I'm just making the very first line, I can't decide if I want a blanket, sweater or gloves. I planned on just making a blanket from this blue yarn."

Allura watched his hands, she was completely entranced, "humans, do this for fun?" She asked without looking away.

Lance paused in his knitting to wipe his hair from his face. "Yeah, or they do it, and give the clothes to friends, or donate to the poor, or just to relax." He shrugged.

A couple minutes passed in silence until Lance got to the length he wanted for one square of the blanket. He pushed his hair away again, and then held the knitting out for Allura to see closer.

"Now, I have the beginning of one square of the blanket." He continued,, and explained counting the loops of yarn around the needle. He showed her how the square grew with each pass, back and forth, between the needles. "So you make as many squares as you need, depending on how big of a blanket you want, and then you connect them. I was going to use a different pattern stitch for some of the other squares."

"There are different patterns?" Allura sounded very impressed.

Lance blushed and swiped at his hair again.

"Yeah, different types of stitches…" He trailed off and began knitting again. He had not expected her to find knitting so interesting.

He finished four squares of the garter stitch while the Princess just watched. At first it made him a little uncomfortable, but her fascination was endearing, and he began to settle in. Sometimes, even after everything that had happened so far, there were moments that still made Lance ask, how is this my life? Having a space princess, watch you knit with rapt attention, was one of those moments.

"Could... you make me something?" Allura asked quietly.

Her question slammed into Lance's mind, and he recognizes the slight nervousness on her face. He blinked, what could possibly be making her nervous? The very idea that it was Lance almost made him laugh, which probably wouldn't go over well at the moment.

"Like, a sweater?" He asked, keeping his cool.

She beamed like a sun, and it swept away any uncertainty.

"Would you?!" She clasped her hands together as if she was praying for him to say yes.

He nodded, slowly, and she practically bounced off the couch in excitement. He wasn't sure how to react to this version of Allura, but he couldn't deny the distinctly pleased feeling that welled up in him. She made him feel proud of his hobby, like his family used to when they asked him to make things, he had missed that more than he realized. His chest ached and it pushed on his heart, it was a painful pleasure. The pain of his homesickness clashed with this new contentment. Maybe he should rethink his strategy of treating Allura like Hunk, and consider treating her more like... Lance pushed his thoughts aside, and blinked quickly to soothe his burning eyes.

He reached into his bag and pulled out pale pink yarn, that was puffy like the blue one. "How about I make it in this color?"

Allura agreed, and Lance finished off the fifth square of the blanket before switching projects. She watched him work and asked questions. They sat together while he worked for almost an hour. Surprisingly, no one wandered into the lounge to disrupt them.

Lance pushed his hair out of his eyes for the fifth time in ten minutes, he practically growled when it flopped back down only moments later.

Without warning, Allura leaned forward and reached out. With warm fingers she touched his forehead. Lance dropped his needles and stilled. Panic simmer under his skin, prepared to bubble up in defense, but Allura only swept his bangs back, flat against his head. There was a light click, and she sat back.

He looked at her with wide eyes. Her face was once more nervous, or maybe hopeful, the two emotions resembled each other at times. The front of Allura's hair, which was previously pulled back with a pink clip, hung loose around her face. Lance reached up to touch his own hair and felt the clip. It was the size of his index finger, and held his fringe in place a few inches from his hairline. It was something one of his sisters would have done.

Lance was plunged into an ocean of emotions, cold and brisk. It hurt, but it was also wonderful. Slowly the water warmed, and the heat sank into him, overwhelmed him, and welled up.

He wasn't going to cry… nope. Lance picked up his knitting, and went back to work. If Allura noticed the shine of his eyes, she didn't say anything. He smiled at her, without any flirtatious undertones, or snark, and was rewarded with a relaxed smile in return. Now he was sure he had seen hope, even if it was cheek to cheek with nerves.

Lance felt a shift, and he decided, or perhaps the decision happened before he consciously thought it, that he didn't care who knew about his knitting.

Ooo

Later in the evening Allura's voice called the Paladins for training, as was promised that morning. Lance put down the pink sweater he was working on, and admired it for a moment. It was turning out better than he had hoped. He felt like a wall was breached, one that previously separated him from Allura, and now they could finally form a normal friendship. The thought sent a buzz through his body. The idea of having another friend, someone he could be more himself with, was exhilarating.

Lance suited up and left his room. He was adrift in a sea of thoughts as he wandered to the training deck. He actually felt like he could use some training, which was unusual, but his mood was good, and he had a nap. There was nothing that could bring him down, even being the last to arrive.

Lance's entrance was met with the normal level of enthusiasm, followed by an abnormal silence. The click of the door closing echoed in the quiet. Everyone was looking at him, and he met their eyes one at a time, as he tried to figure out what was wrong. His eyes landed on Keith last, and Lance held him in a steady gaze. Keith's face was red, and Lance wasn't sure why, but then Keith pointed at the top of his own head. Lance mimicked the gesture, and his fingers touched something hard in his hair.

The clip.

Lance had forgotten to take the clip out.

He reached up and frantically tried to figure out how to unclasp it, but his fingers kept slipping, and his hands were shaking. Everyone was watching. His chest collapsed under the weight of their stares, and he tried to pretend this wasn't happening.

Not again, he didn't want to do this anymore, but he didn't know how to stop it.

A voice broke through Lance's rushing thoughts, only a moment before a tidal wave of panic crashed down on his head.

"Leave it," they said, It was Pidge.

Lance's hand stopped, and he looked down at the smallest paladin.

They smiled up at him.

"It looks good," Pidge admitted, and broke eye contact to look at their feet. "And it keeps the hair out of your eyes."

Everyone else nodded, even Keith -who was still a little red for some reason-, and Hunk followed up with an enthusiastic, "yeah!"

Pidge was normally made of prickly words and sass, but when they looked back up at Lance, their face was open for the barest moment, accepting and understanding.

Slowly, Lance's arms came down to his sides, where they rested, limp. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but the uncontrollable flood of panic receded to a manageable distance. It was still there, looming, always prepared to come crashing down, but for now, he was OK. Which was good, because there wasn't anything he could do about the situation, a sentiment he really needed to indulge in more often.

"Thanks." Lance felt the word cut through his fear, as it left his mouth.

"Right!" Allura broke the moment, "Time for training, shield circle everyone!" She smiled softly at Lance, and his mood lifted.

Lance fell into his usual groove and smiled, big and goofy. "Yeah! I'm gunna kick all your asses!"

Hunk laughed and threw his arm around Lance's shoulders. "You can't win team training, Lance."

"Oh, Hunk of little faith, there is always a way to win! Even if it means sharing the victory." Lance assured him, and looked for Keith. He had a plan.

The acceptance of his team from only moments ago, filled Lance with excitement. It curled out from his chest, and floated on his skin, he felt like he was glowing. He caught Keith's eye from across the room, and smirked at him, silently communicating what he wanted.

Keith raised an eyebrow, that clearly meant 'really?', and then shrugged in acceptance.

Ever since they started training together, they had tried not to draw attention to how in sync they had become. They didn't want anyone getting curious and nosey. They wanted their time to stay strictly their own. Lance knew he wanted the time with Keith for personal reasons -namely his huge crush- and he assumed that Keith just didn't bond easily, and was more comfortable one on one.

But just this one time, Lance wanted to show off a bit. He wanted to keep this amazing high going, and what better way than being the best at training?

All five members of team voltron formed a circle with their shields ready. Without warning the training exercise began. Everyone scrambled to protect themselves, and their teammates from the barrage of laser fire. Their movements, although frantic, were much more organized than the first time they tried this, but failure was only a matter of time.

The first to go down was Hunk. He cried out about the injustice of tiny shields, as he fell through the hole on the floor. The four remaining paladins closed the space he left behind. They formed a square, Pidge across from Shiro, and Lance across from Keith, with all their backs facing inward.

Hunk wandered back into the room, and plopped to the floor to watch. The difficulty increased over time, and after two minutes of survival the laser frequency went up. The next to go down was surprisingly, Shiro. A laser went over Pidge, it was too high for them to reach with their shield in time, and it hit Shiro square in the back of his head. He let out an undignified yelp of surprise when he fell.

With only three left they formed a triangle. Lance had expected Pidge to go down quickly, but they managed to hang on with reflexes born from years of video games. The minutes crawled by as the difficulty climbed, Lance was drenched with sweat. This was the longest they had ever made it, even with just him and Keith practicing. It turns out, Pidge is awesome at this exercise. They normally lost because of someone else being out of sync (mostly Keith and Lance). But now, with no huge height difference, and everyone focused, the three of them were kicking ass.

Lance smiled, even as his arm ached when he reached out to protect Keith's head. His side hurt, and his legs were shaking, but he was in the zone. His mind was clear, almost blank, except for a loud and persistent hum. It was low, and deep in the back of his awareness. It whispered to him, and he reacted to it almost unconsciously. He moved according to its direction, even before he registered what he had done. As the practice continued, another sound seeped into his mind, it was higher, and weaker, but just as unceasing.

Lance began to listen to the sounds with intent, and he pulled them further to the front of his consciousness, it felt right. He took cues from their subtle guidance, and with each movement, he protected Keith or Pidge with his shield… almost as if he knew where they were going to be, a second before they moved…

Was… this… mind melding without the helmet… or Voltron? It felt different… but...

A deep rumble broke through Lance's stuttering thoughts, warm, proud, and clearly a confirmation of his conclusion. Lance was so surprised to hear Blue, while this far from the hanger, that he completely stopped moving, his shield arm dropped, and he took a laser right to the sternum.

Lance barely registered the feeling of falling, as darkness overtook his vision. He landed on the large, soft mats that were below the floor. He stayed on his back, looking at the ceiling. The presence of Blue and Pidge was gone from his mind, and what he thought was Keith, became only a simmering heat, almost unnoticeable. Lance wasn't even sure if it had happened.

Two holes opened above him almost simultaneously. Pidge landed on Lance's right, and Keith on his left, they both stayed on their backs, like Lance did.

There was only the sound of their heavy breathing in the dim room.

Pidge broke the silence first. "So… are we all going to just ignore the weird psychic awareness thing that just happened?"

Keith and Lance both made a noise that could have been the beginning of a response, but failed to actually speak.

"It wasn't very strong, but it was definitely there." Pidge sat up as they spoke. "Of course, it would take a magical mental bond to make you two work together that well," they snarked.

Lance wasn't sure how to respond, because his connection, with what he assumed was Pidge, had been weak like they described. It had been an echo in comparison to the powerful sound of Keith. Lance was sure that Keith had experienced the same thing.

"Yeah," Lance forced out. He sat up and looked at Keith, who was looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

"We should probably tell Allura…" Keith dragged himself to his feet. He turned and offered both his hands, one for Lance and one for Pidge.

Together they climbed back to the surface.

Ooo

To say Allura was ecstatic, was a huge understatement. She had been thoroughly impressed by their display during training, but when she found out about the weird mental link, she let out a legitimate squeal. She went on a rant about how she thought it was odd that they had suddenly improved so much. She explained that the bond they felt was the natural progression of the Paladin connection they shared. She continued to express her surprise about how soon it happened, and that it happened with Keith and Lance out of everyone. She was quick to assure them that the bonding process was long, and not to expect this every time they trained.

Keith and Lance pretended to be just as surprised at their teamwork as everyone else.

Pidge explained what it felt like, and assured Allura it was a weak hum, that they almost didn't notice at first. Lance didn't correct anything they said, and Keith also kept quiet about how strong their bonded moment was. No one mentioned hearing their Lion, so Lance didn't say anything. Maybe he would ask Keith about it later.

Alone in his room, Lance went over the events carefully, while he worked on his blue blanket. Allura's sweater was finished, and folded neatly next to him. He decided to ignore the entire bonded thing, and the fact that he heard blue, until something else happened. Allura told them not to force anything, and Lance was perfectly happy to pretend it didn't happen. As if he couldn't feel the warm spot in his head, that was like the residual heat of a recently vacated chair, Keith's heat.

Lance yawned. His phone said he should have gone to sleep an hour ago. He put his knitting away, but didn't get up to do his skin care. He still kept the cracked jar on his sink, he could have found a new one, but he didn't. He felt like it was a good reminder of how low he could fall, but tonight he didn't think he could look at it, or in the mirror.

He curled up under his blanket, pushed down the nagging worry that he normally soothed with his nightly ritual, and went to sleep.

Ooo

Day two dawned without Lance. The lights in his room automatically brightened, but his eyes stayed firmly shut. He didn't exist. He couldn't feel himself being crushed under the weight of reality, if he didn't exist, and that was an appealing notion.

Lance grabbed onto his heavy feelings, and worked to push them off his chest. They were holding him to the bed, making it hard to breath. Every morning he struggled with them, some days they weighed more than others. Recently his mornings had been easier, but after his nap yesterday the familiar pressure of his depression returned.

Lance hoped it was a fluke, but this morning it was worse, and he should have seen it coming. His mood peaked and fell in a predictable pattern. He wanted to rationalize it, find the cause and label it, so that he could repair himself. But he almost never found the source, if there even was one.

He felt full, his mind and his limbs. The weight that was restraining him was thick, and mixed with longing. He had an idea of what was fueling it this time, but he didn't want it to be true. He didn't want to tell anyone, it wasn't something he was ready to talk about.

He continued to deny the problem, knowing what would happen. If he hid his depression like a dirty secret, it would grow. It would become heavier every morning, so heavy he wouldn't be able to breathe, or move. Every morning would be agony, and his life would become a game of pain versus fear, until he woke up and discovered that pain won.

Lance rolled over, and got a face full of pink sweater. He still needed to give it to Allura, and he was excited to do it.

Giddy anticipation was buoyant, and Lance lifted the suddenly lighter burden from his body, so he could start his day.

He rolled off his bed, and grabbed his hair clip on his way to the bathroom.

Ooo

At breakfast Allura had announced that they were free to do as they pleased for the day. When the meal was finished Hunk left with Pidge to work on a project. He promised Lance hang out time later, but Lance waved him off, knowing he would catch Hunk in the kitchen before dinner for some quality time.

Keith also vanished the moment he was done eating, Shrio was close behind, which meant they were heading to the training deck.

Lance was left with Allura and Coran. He could see Coran looking between them, waiting for their usual interaction. First Lance says something cheesy, and then Allura leaves, end scene. But Lance didn't want things to be like that anymore, he was better than that, and didn't want to hide behind the grandstanding. On the other hand, if he could get the courage to drop pick up lines on Keith, that would be a different story.

Lance smirked at his own thoughts. He saw Coran tense, preparing for the awkward moment. But Lance had other plans, he reached under the table and into his knitting bag. He pulled out the rolled up sweater. Before he could raise it above the table, a wall of nerves came crashing down. He immediately felt sick, But he focused his mind on how excited she was yesterday.

He could do this, be friends, and be himself.

Lance lifted the sweater. Allura looked up, and the moment she saw the soft, pink yarn, her entire face brightened.

"Is it done?" She reached out with both hands without waiting for an answer.

Lance stood, and leaned over the table to hand her the sweater. His mind was unraveling with anxious thoughts. Would she like it? Was she going to laugh? Make fun of it? His mind desperately wanted to fall back on the familiar, and he could feel a pick up line wiggling up his throat.

NO, NOPE, STOP. he screamed at himself, but it was no use.

"I bet you will look out of this world…" The words came out choppy against Lance's attempts to stop them. He back pedaled, "Get it? Because we're in space… well, on a ship… so I guess... the world part doesn't make sense…" Good job Lance, great damage control. Why was he like this?

Lance cringed away, prepared for Allura's dismay.

"Well, I guess I will just have to look out of this ship then, won't I?" She replied, and laughed.

Allura was laughing so hard at her own come back, that she doubled over.

Lance turned to Coran, but he was smothering his own laughter and surprise with his hand.

What was even happening?

The laughter died down, and Allura jumped from her seat. "Wait here, I'm going to change." She rushed from the room.

Lance sat back in his chair, with wide eyes. Allura play-flirted back, like friends, and she laughed. Comforting and bubbly feelings welled up, and he couldn't help but make parallels between the Princess and his sisters. He liked this new dynamic.

"Good job. I haven't seen her so happy since before we woke up." Coran smiled fondly in the direction Allura scampered off.

Lance blushed. He was always uncomfortable with praise, even if he yearned for it. The fact that it was Coran's praise made him ache, as if he was being praised by the father he never met.

"I didn't do anything…" Lance denied, and reached up to rub his hair, only to touch his clip instead.

Coran looked at Lance, his smile still just as fond and soft, "But, you did. You treated her like a friend, and not a leader." He stood up and put a hand on Lance's shoulder. "There's a reason you're my favorite," he put a finger to his lips, "don't tell the others." He stage-whispered.

Then Coran straightened up, and shook off the moment as if it never happened. "Well, I have some Castle maintenance to do!" He chirped and sauntered out of the room.

Lance stared after him, as his awkward surprise melted into a comforting ball of warmth. He held the feeling close, and used it to smother the tinge of pain that came along with it. Coran really was the best.

Allura came back into the room with a burst of energy, she held out her arms and spun. The pink sweater was a little big, as all comfortable sweaters should be, and it hung loose over black bottoms that looked like earth leggings.

"So, how do I look?" She asked, with a cheeky grin.

The tight grip Lance kept on himself, loosened a little more.

He shot finger guns at Allura. "Out of this ship, Princess," he said, and his entire demeanor was playful.

"I really love it, Lance. Thank you, again." Allura folded in on herself, her hands clutched the bottom of her sweater.

Lance decided that being unsure was not a good look for the Princess, and he spoke before he stopped to think.

"Why don't we top this look off with a Lance Patented braid?" He offered, it was something he used to do for his sisters, and so the words slipped from him naturally.

The switch from uncertain, to elated, was so fast, it gave Lance whiplash.

Allura clapped her hands together, "Really?"

The brief embarrassment Lance had felt was blown away, and he nodded.

They moved to the lounge. Lance sat on the couch, and Allura took a seat on the floor in front of him. He hesitated for a second, his fingers hovered over Allura's loose bun. He was scared, new territory always frightened him, but he let Corans words blanket his fear, and dampen his anxiety.

When Lance freed Allura's silver hair she began to talk. He started a fishtail braid at the top of her head and relaxed into the conversation.

"Where did you learn to weave hair?" The question was innocent. Allura didn't know she was touching a sensitive topic.

"From my sisters." Lance tried to keep his tone light, but it was strained with the effort to sound normal.

After that, Allura moved on to different topics. Lance noticed the conversation slide into gossip, apparently the mice saw a lot more than anyone knew, and they told the Princess everything. Lance wondered if she knew about him and Keith's meetups. She didn't say anything, and if she did know, she wasn't telling anyone, so he decided not to ask. Ignorance was bliss, in this case.

"Where do you get all the beauty products you use?"

"I found them in the mirror cabinet in my bathroom."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I thought those were locked."

"Mine wasn't, I guess."

Their conversation flowed, and stayed fairly superficial. Although, Shiro tended to come up a lot, and Lance couldn't help the knowing tone that slipped into his voice.

"Oh, so you only watch Shiro train for tactical purposes, right? No other reason? Like how sometimes he takes off his shir-"

"No! I only wish to know the limits of my paladins, and he's been quiet since his return, I just worry… his superior fitness simply comes with the territory."

Hanging out with Allura was nothing like hanging out with Keith, but it also filled a place that was previously empty inside of Lance. He got the distinct feeling that Allura felt the same.

Lance remembered when Pidge revealed their gender, and how Allura had tried to seek out a sisterly bond with the youngest paladin. But Pidge, was Pidge, -which is awesome- and it didn't work out the way the Princess had hoped.

Lance, as it turns out, could offer the things Allura was looking for. All he had to do was get his head out of his own ass. He wondered if she thought it was weird, that she found what she was seeking from Pidge, in Lance.

He hoped not, because this felt natural for him.

Ooo

Lance focused on the vastness of space, that was just beyond the window of the observation deck. There was no team training, or training with Keith, but Lance knew, if he sat here long enough, Keith would show up. It was late in their day cycle, and Allura had gone to help Coran. Lance had spent some time in the kitchen with Hunk, as promised, but now he was alone. After dinner, everyone had gone their separate ways again, taking advantage of their free time.

A hum glided through Lance's mind, it was fiery, and familiar. He grabbed it, and held on as it grew stronger. Suddenly, the feeling was punctuated by the sound of the doors sliding open.

Lance looked over his shoulder at Keith.

"Did you feel that?"

Keith nodded, and made his way to the couch. He gracefully leapt over the back and landed next to Lance.

"Do you think we should worry about it?" Lance asked. He fidgeted with the tablet in his lap nervously.

Keith pulled out his own tablet and turned it on. A Glara language lesson flickered into view. "No, Allura said it's supposed to happen." He answered without looking up.

Lance refocused on his screen, and tried to review his Altean lesson, but failed to focus. "I mean, I thought it was a battle only type of thing … and then just now, I knew you were close by, like knew."

Keith exhaled slowly, and put his tablet down in his lap. "I don't think it's a big deal. During training I could feel your intentions a lot better than Pidge's, and it's probably because of all our one on one training. This is just an extension of that."

Lance didn't understand how Keith could be so calm about this. They were mind melding outside Voltron, and it felt different… but Keith just accepted it. Lance stared at the side of Keith's face, and tried to decipher how he functioned.

Keith noticed the staring, his eyes flickered to Lance, and he sighed through his nose.

"Listen…" He started, stopped, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed again.

The single word was sharpened by Keith's unsure tone, and wielded awkwardly, it made Lance nervous.

I… if it…" Keith blushed and stumbled over his words. "When… it happens outside battle with the others, like Allura said. Then, I might be more uncomfortable… But, I don't mind this." He gestured between himself and Lance, "because it's you."

Lance's mind filled with the roar of possible responses, all of them fighting for attention, ultimately leaving him speechless. As the silence stretched on, Keith began to turn in on himself. He shifted away from Lance, with his eyes down cast.

He turned away and began to stand, when finally, Lance's mental word kodoku resolved. The response that won was simple, honest, and unconsciously slipped from his mouth.

"Why?"

Keith paused halfway off the couch, he looked over his shoulder at Lance. All previous signs of his insecure embarrassment were erased, and replaced with disbelief. He sat back on the couch, closer than before.

"What do you mean, Why?" Keith was incredulous and angry.

Lance defensively mirrored Keith's tone, "What do you mean by asking me, why, why?!"

Keith didn't rise to the banter. "No, we are not doing that. I want a real answer." Now he looked concerned but still angry, as he turned, and put a hand on Lance's arm. The action was as shocking as it was awkward, and spoke volumes about how often Keith volatility touched people.

"Ace…" Keith let the nickname trail off, and Lance could hear his questions in the silence.

Why do you need to ask? Do you think so little of yourself? Do you think so little of me?

Keith squeezed Lance's arm, and leaned closer, as if he was trying to see something just below the surface of a pond. Lance recognized the moment when Keith saw it, because his eyes grew larger, and his mouth parted just a bit. Then, the weight of the realization pressed down on Keith's shoulders, and they sagged when he asked,

"Do you not... like yourself?"

Fear, all encompassing and cold, spilled out around Lance to form an ocean. Keith saw him, really saw him… and that knowledge weighed Lance down, dragged his head under the surface of his own inferiority and insecurity. He grabbed at his chest when it tightened around his weak heart, but he only clutched his shirt, and curled in, wrapping himself around the pain. He tried to breath again, and only managed a stuttered whine.

The question wasn't completely unexpected. Lance knew that Keith had caught onto his insecurities, and some of his anxiety, but he didn't think he gave himself away. Keith wasn't the first person so figure it out, but no one had asked so directly before, and it was like being thrown off a cliff. All you could do was fall, and wait for the end. The fact that it was Keith who asked only made it worse.

The hand Keith had on his arm tightened, and Lance clung to it, to hold himself above water. He grasped for words, something that could save the moment. Because he didn't want to do this, more than anything, more than fighting in the war.

He could turn this around, derail the conversation, but the words formed around the tears that struggled to the surface.

"I...I…" Was all Lance managed to say, before the hand on his arm tugged him forward, and he was pressed into something warm and solid. Shock dried up every other emotion Lance had been struggling with, because Keith never hugged people, but he was hugging Lance.

Keith let go of Lance's arm to hold him around the shoulders, while his other hand rested on the back of his head. Keith didn't try to sooth him, or rub his back, he just held on, and Lance could finally breathe. He wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, and pressed his face into Keith's neck to hide his watering eyes. He was so relieved that he wasn't pushed away, and it overwhelmed him. He knew, he was taking advantage of this rare moment of comfort, but he didn't care, when was he going to be this close again? This was the first time Keith had been this close to him since their 'bonding moment'.

"I kinda figured it out... that you didn't really feel as confident as you acted," Keith admitted softly.

"What gave me away?" Lance whispered into Keith's skin, and reveled in the shiver he thought he felt.

"Well, once you get close enough it's not hard to notice, even for someone as socially inept as me. You really do hold everyone at arm's length, with your jokes, and grandstanding." Keith explained.

Lance reluctantly pulled back to look Keith in the eyes, even though he was sure his own eyes were red. "I've been trying to work on that… Hunk said I should." He looked down at his lap, his arms still loose around Keith's middle.

A warm hand slid under Lance's chin and tipped his face up, Keith smiled when he caught Lance's eyes again. "Ace, it's obvious you care a lot about the team, like I've told you before, You're better at people than me. You're good at knowing what they need, and it's kinda awesome."

"Awesome?" Lance was skeptical, and his voice was rough with emotion. He could see how it would seem that way from the outside, to Keith, but Lance was always so scared of rejection… Was everyone else seeing something he didn't see in himself?

"Yeah, I suck at that. I never know what to say, I'm struggling right now, but I want to help." Keith let a nervous laugh slip out as he spoke. "Should I just start telling you good things, like complements or something, Until you believe them?"

Ummm…" Lance stalled out, his feelings for Keith flooded his mind like a car's gas line, and he couldn't get his engine to turn over.

Keith went forward with his compliments plan. He tapped the pink clip in Lance's hair, and said, "I like this look."

Lance couldn't move, his mind was still idle, but his blood had no problem rushing to his face. He didn't know what to say. Normally Keith complemented his skills, not his looks, and they would high five or fist bump, but that seemed strangely inappropriate for this situation.

"I… heh," Lance's voice let him down. Very good, eloquent. Not awkward at all.

Keith blushed, finally having the decency to be embarrassed. "I'm sorry… I… that was a line wasn't it?" He asked, his hands moved to Lance's shoulders, as if Keith was going to push him away, but didn't.

"Wha…?" Lance wanted to slap himself, but he was trapped in the iron shackles of mortification. His mind was screaming, REASSURE HIM, but his mouth wouldn't move, and he watched as something vulnerable surfaced in Keith.

"A social line, I crossed a line... you know I'm bad at this… I said something weird, the complementing thing was stupid…sorry." Keith stumbled, his voice cracked, and he tipped his head to the side as he apologized, carefully avoiding eye contact… He looked like he might cry.

Lance's brain was kicked back into gear. The sight of Keith, flushed, head cocked, trying to smile reassuringly and failing, it was too much.

"No, no, It's OK!... it helps." Lance managed to squeak out, and Keith ducked his head. Lance was beginning to understand... Keith was putting himself out there, making himself as vulnerable as he made Lance with his simple question, so that they were square. A simple hug, an easy feat for Lance with his friends, was a lot for Keith, and it broke through some sort of wall he had erected.

Lance was suddenly aware of how close together they were. All the fear and anxiety was swept away by want. He wanted to kiss Keith, hold him, touch him. Keith's hands on his shoulders burned, it spread through his chest, and it felt so different from the burn of drowning alone. For a moment, Lance could forget what he felt when he looked in a mirror, or tried and failed to be himself with the team. He didn't need to brag or overcompensate, he was OK.

Then the fear was back, Because Lance was afraid that he would mess it up. He didn't want to be the one to cross the line, and lose Keith's friendship. He began to pull away, but the hands on his shoulders tightened, and held him in place.

"Don't…" Keith's voice was tight. The sharp edge of his tone grazed Lance's skin, and raised goosebumps.

Now that Lance wasn't washed away in his own self pity, he was aware of the shift in Keith, it was building up to something. He wanted to help, it overshadowed his own feelings, but he wasn't confident he would do the right thing. Lance looked at the top of Keith's bowed head, he was trembling. The hands on his shoulders continued to tighten, and only stopped a breath away from pain.

This was a delicate moment. So he stayed still, and silent, while he waited for Keith to collect himself.

"I… Don't want you to move away." Keith finally spoke. He sounded calmer, and his hands loosened, but his head remained down.

Lance's heart jumped, but didn't let his hopes get too high. He waited for Keith to explain.

"I don't normally like physical touch." Keith went on, as blunt as usual, but there was a hesitancy that had become uncommon between them. "But, when I trust someone, it can be nice. I just don't trust a lot of people… so. I don't… Get a lot of welcomed touch."

Oh… Lance's mind registered the subtext, and it echoed in the space between the lines. Keith never talked about his past, and now Lance had a very vague, but disturbing, idea of why. The emptiness inside of him, that was reserved for his own self flagellation, filled with hurt for Keith. But selfish warmth welled up alongside the pain, because Keith trusted him, and thought hugging him was nice, he couldn't even feel bad about it.

Lance hoped Keith's words were an invitation to touch, as he reached out, and brushed back long dark bangs, revealing Keith's flushed face. "If you like my clip, we should find something for you, you're hairs getting long."

Keith's head whipped up, his confusion was clear in his wide, glassy eyes. Lance slid his hand to Keith's cheek, and waited for him to understand, to see the silent acceptance that was offered. Keith sighed, it was only a slight shift of his shoulders, and a slow escape of breath through his nose. He understood, and he leaned into Lance's palm.

"Yeah, maybe a headband or something?" Keith replied softly.

"I could knit you one," Lance offered, as he began to lean away again, but this time he made sure to take Keith with him.

There was no resistance. Lance spread out on his back, and Keith settled onto his chest, Their arms naturally wrapped around each other. Lance pressed Keith close, and heard a sound of contentment. Every inch of Lance was filled with warmth, and he couldn't feel bad or anxious right now if he tried.

Throughout their developing friendship, it became apparent that Keith was not going to allow more than a high five or a fist bump. The very few times Lance tried to hug him, it was deftly avoided. Lance always thought it was because Keith was maybe a little uncomfortable with Lance's sexuality. Which had hurt.

Apparently he was wrong.

Shiro was probably the only person Lance had seen Keith accept casual touches from, but ever since he got back from his second imprisonment, he had been distant. Even before that, it was only pats on the back and the occasional hug. Now Lance understood that Keith was touch starved, but didn't have many people he trusted to fill that void. Lance was happy to do it.

Physical affection was one way Lance relieved his own anxiety. Hunk was normally the one who provided, when it was necessary, but lately Lance had been trying to give his friend some space, and sorely missed his hugs. He wondered if Keith had wanted this for a while, but had been afraid to ask… He was emotional repression in human form, not that Lance could really talk.

Keith burrowed his face into Lance's chest, and puffed out a warm breath. It traveled over Lance's skin, and seeped under the surface, it mingled with the tingling excitement that buzzed through him. This was so much better than Hunk.

"Is this weird?" Keith's muffled voice broke Lance from his thoughts.

"No," Lance replied, and that was all they needed to say on the topic. It was a quiet acceptance of their new dynamic, unspoken, like much of their friendship.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Lance decided it was too quiet.

"Corran told me I was his favorite today," he bragged playfully, and easily fell into their usual banter.

"Everyone knows that, Ace." Keith still spoke into Lance's shirt.

Lance shifted to look down at Keith's hair, "Really?"

Keith raised his head and rested his chin on Lance's sternum. "Yeah, you were the only one willing to listen to all his stories, and I think he noticed you learned Altean. Like I said before, you naturally help people."

Lance blushed and cleared his throat.

Keith narrowed his eyes, and... was he examining Lance's face?

"You have really nice skin. I knew that before, but up close it's more impressive." Apparently he was.

Lance choked on his own breath. The warmth that settled under his skin began to gather, and drift lower… this new thing between them might be harder than Lance anticipated (pun intended). Why did he do these things to himself?

"So, you complimenting me... is a thing now?" Lance hoped Keith didn't notice how husky his voice had become.

Keith smirked, "Yup, I think it makes us square."

Lance stifled groaned at the reference to their old inside joke, but he understood where Keith was coming from. He saw Lance offering affection, as a debt, to repay the debt, he would "help" Lance with his insecurities… by complimenting him. Lance knew there was no way to convince Keith that the affection was, happily, and freely given, not without spilling his crush all over the place.

"Dios, dame fuerza." Lance muttered his mama's favorite phrase.

Keith tipped his head, still resting on Lance's chest, "What was that? Something about God?"

Lance held back a squeak, but his response still came out an octave higher, "Nothing." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You have a nickname for me, so I have decided you need one too."

Keith's curiosity about spanish dropped away, "I really don't."

"I think you do," Lance stated confidently. "how about Azul?"

"Doesn't that mean blue?" Keith raised a brow.

Lance smiled, it always made him happy when Keith got spanish right. "Yeah, and it's your favorite color."

"Yeah, I guess, but with voltron it feels wrong to be called blue. Plus, in spanish it kinda sounds like a shitty evil villain's name."

Lance laughed, "It really does. How about SwordyMcstabby?"

Keith snorted, "Fuck you. If you insist on a nickname, why not just Red?"

Lance waggled a finger in Keith's face, "no, no, your Lion is named Red. I can't call you both the same name."

Keith put his face back on Lance's chest, "I really don't need a nickname…" His voice was muffled again.

Lance patted Keith's head. "I'll think of something, don't worry," he said with a mocking coo.

Keith groaned.

"Samurai?" Lance suggested.

Keith laughed, and it rumbled through Lance's chest. "Hell no. Plus, I think that might be offensive."

"How? I thought you were Korean." Lance replied with an air of innocence. Inside he squirmed, did he really say something offensive?

Keith takes an exasperated breath. "I think that makes it more offensive? What if I gave you a Mexican nickname, like-"

"Nope!" Lance interrupts. He grits his teeth when he suddenly understands, and he remembers the few times he called Keith Samurai in the past. Now those memories will probably haunt him forever. "I get it, no need to make this worse. No more asian themed nicknames." He concedes.

Lance is comforted when Keith laughs again, he must not have taken much offence if he can find the humor in the mistake. But he still feels the inexplicable need to apologize.

"Sorry," He muttered.

"It's OK, sombrero boy." Keith replies casually.

"Hey!" There's no fire in Lance's outburst, but if there were, it would have been doused by Keith's uproarious laughter. It was almost offensive how funny Keith found his own joke, which made Lance laugh. As they bickered and laughed a new realization dawned on Lance. The trust Keith put in him, it was a serious responsibility. By opening up to Lance, Keith offered the power to hurt him, the same way he could hurt Lance. It was a sobering thought, Keith didn't have to open up, he could have let Lance break down and then held it over him. But instead he reciprocated, and trusted Lance not to hurt him.

That night, after they parted, Lance made a blue knitted headband before falling asleep.

Ooo

Lance learned what a panic attack was at nine years old.

His first one hit like a microburst, almost no noticeable buildup before the storm.

The familiar burn of his anxiety grew more painful than he had ever experienced. He took a deep breath, and then another, and another. It didn't help, never before had his own breathing been ineffective. Is this what drowning felt like?

He was confused, and scared, as he sank deep into the dark unknown. He didn't understand what was happening, how could he not control this? His own body? He was stupid, and useless. Coming apart for reasons unknown- because he didn't understand!

Anger, frustration and disgust, crashed down in volumes beyond anything he had felt before. They covered him completely, and held him down under the pressure of their weight.

He didn't fight it, he curled up on the cold bathroom floor. He cried openly.

He was a child, without the social pressure to feel ashamed of this, yet.

Lance didn't hear the footsteps, or any of the frantic words. He saw the small, blue tiles of the floor pull away, as he was lifted into strong, warm arms.

Maritza held him to her chest, she leaned against the wall, and hugged him.

"Lance!"

His sister's voice broke through the roaring storm.

"Itza!" Lance choked out.

Maritza rocked them slowly, and whispered to Lance until his breathing slowed, and his tears stopped. She picked her younger brother up, something Lance had insisted he was too big for at seven years old, and carried him to her room.

It was a hot summer night, the windows were open, and the sound of a wind chime drifted through the air.

Maritza placed Lance on her bed, and got on the floor in front of him.

"Lance, what happened?" She asked gently.

Lance looked down at his hands. He couldn't lie to Maritza, she already knew how nervous and upset he got sometimes, but he also didn't have an answer.

"I don't know." It was the truth.

Maritza smiled patiently, "What were you doing before you got upset?"

Lance twisted his hands together, and looked away. "I was looking in the mirror."

"And that upset you?" She asked.

Lance gave a small nod, and sniffled.

"Why, manito?" Maritza had an edge of distress in her voice.

"Because I'm ugly." The reasoning was simple, blunt, and delivered in a way only a child could express.

Maritza pulled Lance into a hug, she was on her knees in front of the bed, just tall enough to rest her head on his shoulder. "No, Lance, you are beautiful."

Lance clung to her shirt, tears threatening to come again. "Not, like you are," he admitted.

Maritza pulled back, she was on the brink of tears, but she didn't look at Lance with pity. He could tell that she didn't agree with him, simply by her eyes, as they rested on his face. He knew she saw him in a way that he couldn't see himself.

"If you want to be like me, then we should probably get started!" Maritza put on an air of joy, and wiped away her stray tears.

With quick feet she skipped across her room, and collected a litter of objects. Then she came back to dump them on the bed.

Lance looked down at the collection of tubes and jars and then back up at his sister with confusion.

"We are going to do what I do, when I have a bad day." Maritza announced. She began to open the various things she brought over, and mixed them together in a bowl. "We are going to do face masks, and while they dry, we are going to watch a movie! Oh, maybe we can even do our nails, and I can teach you to braid my hair!"

This was the beginning of a tradition for him and Maritza. One that included beauty tips, manicures, movies, and hugs.

Lance wouldn't have another full panic attack, until he was fourteen.

ooo

Lance woke up before the fake sunrise, that was really just the dim lights brightening. He had been dreaming, he couldn't remember what it was, but he felt unsettled. The stagnant anxiety that pooled in him, left by the mystery dream, drained away when he remembered the night before. The feeling of Keith close to him, practically breathing in sync with him. A new, more chaotic feeling rose up. Was he taking advantage of Keith? Would he be able to handle this without crossing a line? And if he did manage to handle it, would Lance come out the other side whole? He could already feel the strain of being so close to Keith, but not really having him.

Lance sighed, he knew this was probably a bad idea, but he couldn't care. Keith was so relaxed last night, he needed this, and Lance getting a little of what he wanted wasn't hurting anything. Right?

He could handle it.

Lance rolled over, and ignored the weight on his mind. He wasn't getting back to sleep. He hefted himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. With blurry eyes he opened the mirror to gather his morning supplies, and began his face ritual.

Looking at himself in the mirror this morning, was a little easier.

Ooo

The hallway was quiet. The usual morning ruckus was still hours away, and Lance was not used to approaching a silent kitchen. So when he entered the room, he was surprised to see another person there.

Allura was curled up in one of the chairs at the table. She was still wearing her new sweater and black leggings. Her hair was left in the braid Lance had done, but it was mussed up and uneven. She looked up from her steaming cup of… something, when Lance entered. He thought she looked like she just rolled out of bed moments ago, but the dark circles under her eyes gave her away.

Allura looked surprised to see anyone awake, but relaxed marginally when she recognized who it was.

"Good Morning, Lance." Her voice was fond, a new development since their time yesterday.

Instead of answering with any number of polite responses, Lance blurted out his concerns.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked.

Allura blinked in surprise, and then smiled. It was tired and small. "Do I look that bad?"

Lance floundered, "Umm… well, sorta." He gestured to her hair as he answered.

Allura touched her lopsided braid and understood his meaning.

Lance approached her slowly, "I could do another one?" He offered uncertainty. He was still worried about their new friendship, and didn't want to overstep any bounds.

It was apparently a welcomed gesture. "If you wouldn't mind," Allura said and waved him closer.

Lance came around behind her chair, and started to undo his previous work. He ran his fingers through her hair a few times to get the tangles out, and watched her shoulders relax. He did a simple dutch braid from the base of her neck to the top of her head, then he pulled the rest of her hair into a nice bun and secured it.

"Much better." Lance commented and moved to sit next to Allura.

He poured himself a cup of hot whatever-it-was from the pot in the middle of the table, and watched from the corner of his eye as Allura felt the back of her hair.

She smiled, "Thank you, Lance."

The mood in the room became light and comfortable. Lance took a sip of his drink, and it wasn't the worst thing he had tasted in space. His mood rose a little higher, and he felt a mischievous itch. So in the usual Lance fashion, he decided to go from hesitant, to full out teasing friendship.

"So, Princess. Have you spent any quality time with Shiro recently?" A sly smirk lifted Lance's lips.

Allura lifted her nose, and looked away from Lance, "I have no idea what you mean."

"It's just that yesterday, you had a lot to say about him. I thought that he might be the hyperdrive that brings you to light speed, if you know what I mean?" Lance's tone was heavy with innuendo.

Allura looked at him and raised a brow, "I don't know what you mean, what's a hyperdrive?"

Lance leaned closer, and smirked a little wider, "you know, he's your Oliver Wood, cuz he's a keeper."

"Who is this, Oliver wood?" Allura looked even more confused.

Lance sighed, and leaned back, "you are attracted to him, right?" He was disappointed his innuendos went to waste, but he thoroughly enjoyed watching Allura turn red to the tips of her pointed ears.

"Thats! No… but you- that's ridiculous!" She sputtered.

"You do like him!" Lance cried triumphantly, and bounced on his seat.

"I do not!" Allura denied, but her blush moved down her neck, betraying her feelings.

"Yes you do!"

"Do not!"

"Don't lie, it's not Princess like." Lance smirked so hard he flashed his white teeth.

"Stop, or I will push you off that chair!" She threatened, but there was no malice in her words, only warning.

Lance ignored her warning, and pointed right at her face to say, "You like him, admit-!"

He was cut off when Allura shoved him so hard, he flew clean off his seat, and hit the floor.

Lance sat up, and stared at Allura in shock, "I can't believe you did that…" he admitted.

She just stared back for a moment, and then she started to laugh. "I did warn you," She said between breaths.

Lance felt his heart warm, she was so much happier now, then when he walked in, and he laughed with her.

"Fair enough," He agreed with a smile..

They both failed to gain control of themselves, and Lance had to wipe away tears while he was doubled over on the floor.

The door to the kitchen slid open, and Hunk walked in, only to stop and stare at the strange situation.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

Allura and Lance pulled themselves together long enough to look at Hunk, then at each other, before bursting out into giggles that they tried muffled in their hands.

"Ummm, OK." Hunk shrugged, but smiled at Lance, and went across the room to get his goo breakfast.

The smile filled Lance with the same warmth he felt when Allura laughed, Hunk was happy to see him happy. He pulled himself together, and climbed back onto his chair. He used his elbow to nudge the still giggle princess. "But you do, right?" He whispered, more serious this time.

Allura stopped laughing. She looked him in the eyes, and Lance could tell she was analyzing his intentions.

She slowly nodded.

Lance could burst from his happiness. The Princess trusted him enough to give a real answer, and that meant a lot. Not that she was being subtle about it when they chatted yesterday. He sipped his drink, and basked in the warm glow of friendship. The best part was that Lance was ninety percent sure that Shiro liked Allura back, he was just having a rough time, but Lance was sure things would work out. Lance's eyes glazed over, as he let his mind drift into a daydream about his two leaders having an epic space romance.

Hunk came back to the table and sat across from the smiling pair. He looked at Allura's new sweater, then at Lance, then back at Allura's smiling face, then back at Lance's dreamy face. He looked confused, but his expression began to shift into something horrified.

"Are you two…" He started to ask, but his eyes landed on Allura's hair before he finished. Understanding fell over his features, and he diverted his question.

"But really, What was so funny?" He asked instead.

"Huh?" Lance was jared from his imagination.

"Oh, you know…" Allura failed to think of anything to say, and looked to Lance. Apparently she was a terrible liar.

Luckily Lace excelled at bullshit. "I was telling Allura about the Giant Rat planet, you know, when we got separated and-"

"We don't need to rehash that situation!" Hunk cut in with a high voice, and a red face.

"But it was so funny when you tried-"

Hunk slammed both his hands on the table, "NO! IT WAS NOTHING LIKE THE PRINCESS BRIDE!" He yelled.

Pidge walked into the kitchen, the sound of the door was drowned out by Hunk. "Are we talking about the Rat Planet? Because it was epic when Hunk-"

"Pidge knows?! Did you tell everyone?!" Hunk gestured at all of Pidge to punctuate the betrayal.

Lance shrugged, "yeah?"

Hunk slumped to the table with his hand over his heart in defeat.

Allura leaned close to Lance's ear, "Thanks," she whispered in appreciation for the cover story.

Lance smiled, "That's what friends are for."

Ooo

Soon, everyone in the castle was awake, they sat around the table with the familiar air of family. Only something was off, the usual order of their seats was altered, because Lance never left his spot next to Allura. He saw Shiro glance at his usual seat, occupied by Lance, and frown. It wasn't intentional, but this small sign of possible jealousy made Lance smirk. The way Shiro narrowed his at Lance indicated that his team leader might have taken the smirk a different way, maybe as a competitive gesture.

Lance just smirked wider. Normally he would be fighting down a crashing wave of anxiety, and fear, over his behavior, he would still do it of course, but he would worry about overstepping boundaries. Today was different, Lance felt calm, and secure in his friendships, still anxious, but markedly less.

"Thats a nice sweater, Allura. I didn't know Altea had knit." Shiro commented. He sounded more upbeat than he looked.

Allura lit up, bright as a star. There was a depth to her happiness that you didn't realize was missing, until you saw it. "Altea didn't have knit. Lance made this for me, isn't it lovely?"

"Not as lovely as you." Lance let his teeth show, as he slid in the complement smoothly along with a single finger gun.

Allura softly giggled, and waved the compliment off without protest. Surprise swooped over the table, as many of them came to similar conclusions.

Shiro made an indistinct sound, halfway between choking and agreeing, then looked down at his food. There was a lift to his shoulders that spoke to tension, and his breathing was so even pealed, that Lance assumed he was focusing his efforts on staying calm.

Everyone ate in silence after that, ignoring the pink sweater in the room.

Pidge had opened their mouth to speak a few times, even got out a sound that was not recognizable, but never managed to say anything. Keith was looking between Allura and Lance, his face was neutral, except for the little crinkle between his eyes, and the slight frown on his lips. Small, insignificant details that only someone who spent a lot of time with Keith would notice, but they screamed to Lance, that Keith was unhappy. Which, in a sick and twisted way made Lance want to smile. Keith was possessive of the few bonds he formed, and Lance was glad to see evidence of their friendship.

Lance gripped the headband in his pocket, he would smooth things over with Keith tonight.

Hunk and Coran were the only ones at the table who weren't tense. Coran was smiling, either unaware, or ignoring the current mood in the room.

But Hunk… was trying not to lose his shit.

Lance saw the shallow breaths, tight jaw muscles, and clenched eyes, clear signs of the strain of withheld laughter. He was hunched so far over the table in his effort to contain himself, that his face was almost in his goo. Everyone else was too engrossed in the idea that Lance had somehow bagged Allura, that they didn't even notice when Hunk leaned forward final inch and gently placed his face in his breakfast.

Hunk reeled back in surprise, almost tipping his chair over, and Lance barked out a laugh. The sudden movement and sound startled everyone.

Coran took the opportunity to start the morning briefing. He handed Hunk a cloth to clean his face with, sharing a knowing smile, and then turned to address the table.

"Today is our final day of travel. We will arrive at Yeppeuda in the early morning hours. I want you all well rested for our descent. That is all!" Coran concluded with a flourish of his hand.

Keith immediately stood, and walked out of the kitchen when they were dismissed. Shiro followed close behind, only glancing back once.

Allura stood. "If we want to stay undercover successfully, I must finish preparing for our time on Yeppeuda." She left, followed by Coran.

Lance was left with Pidge and Hunk. "That's right, we are going to be pirates or something?" He asked, ignoring Pidge's suspicious stare.

Hunk waved his hand dismissively, "Nah, pirates was shot down, along with space heroes. We are going to be nomads, or I guess space nomads?"

"Nomads?" Lance asked indignantly, "But pirates are awesome!"

"Pirates are bad, Lance." Hunk said seriously.

"But, are they?" Lance countered with a raised brow.

"Yes." Hunk threw his arms up.

Lance leaned back and crossed his arms, "I would like proof."

Hunk waved his arms around wildly, "Every pirate ever, Lance. That's your proof!"

Lance continued to rile his friend up, by purposely being obtuse, it was one of his favorite things, besides truly debating with Hunk. Pidge usually joined in, and as Hunk reached critical mass, Lance waited for them to strike the final blow. But nothing happened, and Hunk continued to rant without interruption, not even caring that Lance was no longer paying attention.

"WE would have to KILL people, Lance! Kill them! In order to convince people we were real pirates!" Hunk slammed his hands down on the tabled, breathing heavy from his own zealous argument.

Pidge had their head propped up on their hand, and was studying Lance like one of their programs, with eyes narrowed, and glasses pushed up. Lance was becoming uncomfortable, and shrank back into his seat.

"So, you and Allura?" They finally asked.

Lance struggled with how to explain the new friendship he shared with the Princess, and shrugged.

Pidge continued without pausing for a real answer, winding themself up as they went. "That hair clip is hers, isn't it? And you made her a sweater. You didn't use your worst pick up lines this morning, and the one time you did hit on her, she giggled, GIGGLED! Did I fall into an alternate universe where Allura suddenly found this-" They gestured at Lance in general, "womanizing goofball attractive?!"

"Hey!" Lance complained, offended. "I do not womanize, I woo. You little gremlin! You're just jealous of my game!"

Pidge snorted, "I'm about as jealous of your game, as you are of my huge cock."

Lance choked, but Hunk burst out laughing, seemingly unsurprised by Pidges humor. For just a moment, Lance disassociated from the situation, as his brain recognized that Keith and Pidge would probably get along really well.

Hunk's calm voice restitched Lance to his reality. "They're not together, Pidge." He said smoothly, before any real insults could be thrown. His rounded personality rolled over Pidge's sharp corners, and they calmed down.

"All evidence says otherwise," they argued.

"Yeah, but her hair was braided," Hunk countered with grace.

"What does th-"

Hunk raised a finger as he interrupted, "and we all know that if Lance was with someone, he would be all over them, but he kept a respectable distance from the Princess all morning."

Pidge crossed their arms, "That's true, but I still don't understand what-"

Lance clapped Pidge on the shoulder, "Allura and I have found some common ground, that's all." He assured.

Pidge sighed, and still didn't look completely convinced. "That's great and all, but you are going to get yourself killed. Did you see Shiro's face?"

"Pidge has a point. I'm happy and all, that you and Allura are getting along, but Shiro can kill you with just his thumbs," Hunk agreed.

Lance leaned back, feeling more self satisfied than he had in awhile. "oh, I saw his face. Maybe now he will make a move."

Understanding dawned on Pidge, and a shit eating grin spread over their face. "This is so good, I'm in."

Hunk hesitated, and worry visibly took hold. "I don't know, this seems like it might be a bad idea…"

"No, this is brilliant." Pidge shot Hunk down.

Lance preened, "I know I am."

"Shut up, Lance." Pidge snapped, and then grew serious as they explained, "Before Shiro was captured, we all saw him pining after the Princess. But now he's distant from everyone, including her. This might be the push he needs." Pidge softened, and turned to Lance, "I think this might help, so thanks…"

Lance smiled, and nodded. He let the slight sting of Pidge snapping at him melt away. Out of all of them, Pidge was the most distressed by Shiro's distant behavior, even more so than Keith. They lost a third family member, and when he returned, he wasn't exactly whole. Lance was sure that Pidge realized the same could be true for their brother and father. Shiro could be helped, there were periods of time when he was almost back to his old self. There was hope, and Pidge needed that hope.

"Plus, if Shiro does kill Lance, it could be pretty entertaining," Pidge concluded, and just like that, all Lance's good feelings for them were gone.

"Hey!" Lance barely got to start complaining when Pidge cut him off.

"Anyway, I got to go get ready to integrate the new tech tomorrow." Pidge stood abruptly, uncomfortable with their emotions as ever. "I'll see you guys later." They waved and left swiftly.

Hunk stood as well, "I should probably go help them," He admitted. But Instead of leaving he came around the table, and pulled Lance into a hug that lifted him off his chair. "I'm glad you're reached out, I'm proud of you."

Happiness welled up in Lance, but was met with guilt that slid down his spine. Hunk was relieved that Lance allowed himself to be supported by another team member, but it wasn't the person he thought. Even if it was by omission, Lance still felt bad about lying to Hunk about Keith.

"So the hair gave me away?" Lance asked, as Hunk finally put him back down in his seat.

Hunk took the seat that was previously Allura's, and let his heavy arm fall across Lance's shoulders. "Yeah, dude. The grooming thing was what you did with your sister. I know you wouldn't use it to get with someone."

Hurt stabbed Lance, as it always did when he was reminded of his sister, but he pushed it aside.

"I would do the 'grooming thing' with someone I'm dating." Lance argued.

Hunk pulled Lance closer and answered with certainty. "Yeah, but you would never use it to get with them. It means too much to you."

Lance sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Yeah…" He agreed, because Hunk was right. He only ever did the 'grooming thing', as Hunk called it, with anyone who was going to be a permanent part of his life. He had never done it with anyone he had romantic feelings for, because he was afraid that if things went wrong, the tradition would be tainted by bad blood, or a broken heart.

Hunk shook Lance lightly, "Stop thinking, and let's go hang out. It's been a while."

"I thought you had to help Pidge?" Lance asked. A thin string of hope threaded through him, he missed having quality time with Hunk.

"I will catch up with them later, it's best friend time." Hunk assured.

Lance's mood bounced back, and he smiled. "How about a game of storage unit jenga?"

Hunk smirked, "you're on!"

If Allura, or really anyone, found out that Hunk and Lance used the big rectangular storage units, to play jenga in the common hanger, using their Lions. They would be in big trouble. Luckily Pidge and the Lions were the only ones who knew. Pidge didn't care, and Lance suspected the Lions found it entertaining.

Ooo

Thoughts of lunch were edging into Lance's mind by the time Hunk announced he really did have to go help Pidge. After their epic game of giant lion jenga, they ended up just talking like the old days. The last strings of a nostalgic happiness, echoed in Lance's bedroom. With a faint smile, he pulled himself up from his bed, and decided to go find Keith. Lance had meant to give him the headband sooner, but got distracted. He also needed to figure out why Keith looked so irritated when he left the table.

At the beginning of the search for Keith, Lance was humming a bright tune, but as the search went on his voice faded away. After almost an hour of walking he was starting to run out of places to look. All of their usual spots were empty. There was only one more place Lance could think of, it was a small room deep in the castle, that they had chanced upon a while back. It was like a rec room almost. If he wasn't there, then he was probably in his room. If that was the case then Lance would give up, they never went to each other's rooms, it was again, an unspoken rule.

Lance felt heavy, as he wandered into the winding maze of the mostly unused part of the castleship. He had a feeling that whatever upset Keith was more serious than Lance first thought. If he wasn't waiting in the rec room, then he was in his bedroom, which meant he was avoiding Lance.

Was he upset about last night? Dread, cold and hard, pushed Lance in the sternum. Just the thought of Keith regretting opening up was painful. Lance picked up his pace, and was almost jogging when he heard it.

Music.

Not just any music, earth music.

All of the Paladins, except Shiro, had their phones with them when they were launched into space by Blue. Pidge figured out how to adapt their earth tech to charge off of the ship's Balmeran crystal quintessence, but it didn't take long for everyone to tire of their small collection of saved music.

The music that was floating down the hall, and pulling Lance out of his fitful thoughts, was new, relatively speaking. It wasn't any of the songs Lance had heard a million times since getting trapped in space. It was… Britney Spears...

You want a hot body? You want a Bugatti?

Lance followed the sound of motivational Britney, it led him away from his original path, but that was OK. Honestly Lance was glad to have the distraction, he was nervous about confronting Keith, or the possible lack of confrontation. Avoidance was something he was a pro at.

You want a Maserati? You better work bitch.

The music was coming from a hallway Lance had never been down. He slowed to a creeping walk as he approached the open door at the other end of the hall. The music got louder as he got closer.

You want a Lamborghini? Sippin' martinis?

Look hot in a bikini? You better work bitch.

Lance stopped to the left of the door, and slowly peeked around inside, so only the top of his head passed the door frame. What he saw inside made his eyebrows touch his hairline.

Pidge sat at a workstation, in a secret lab, listening to Britney Spears.

Lance moved so he was completely in the doorway, Pidge was sitting with their back to the entrance, and hadn't heard him over the music. Lance took the opportunity to glance around, and maybe… touch some of the cooler looking things.

The room was floor to ceiling covered in wires, gadgets, and stacks of extra parts. The "work table" Pidge was sitting at, was more like a cubby space in the massive chaos of the room, with a clear spot to work at. In front of the clear space was a wall of monitors that curved around in front of Pidge. Each screen showed something different, some were just scrolling symbols that meant nothing to Lance, others he recognized as diagnostics on their Lions, but a few showed parts of the castle like security cameras. The last type sent a pang of fear through Lance. What if Pidge had been watching him and Keith, what if they saw last night?

Lance tried to slowly back out of the room, but in the most cliche way possible, he tripped on a discarded engine part.

The music stopped. Pidge whipped around, and pulled off their magnifying tech goggles. They looked panicked for a moment, but relaxed then they saw Lance on the ground.

"What are you doing here?" They asked. They didn't sound very upset that their lab was uncovered.

Lance completely ignored their question, and instead blurted out his own. "Are you watching us on camera?" He pointed to the set of screens showing security feed.

Pidge glanced over their shoulders at the monitors, and then back at Lance. "I only watch the points of entry into the castle, and the lion hangers." They answered matter of factly.

"Oh…" Lance got to his feet, and brushed off his jacket to cover his relief. He made a mental note of where the cameras were recording. "Why?" He asked.

A level stare was set on Pidge's face, "Well, I figured it might be a good idea. Cuz, you know, a Blade of Marmora has literally waltzed into the castle ship undetected before…" The level of sarcasm was real.

Lance laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head, "Yeah, of course. Makes sense."

Pidge's eyes narrowed, and their mouth was set in a thin line. "Why? Do you have something to hide?"

Lance laughed again, unconvincingly, "Nope."

Pidge's eyes became only slits as they bored into Lance, and he scrambled for a way to change the subject. "So, this is where you and Hunk disappear to? Does anyone else know about this place?"

Pidge sighed, "Just you, now… unfortunately. What are you doing in this part of the castle anyway?"

"Nothing!" Lance answered too fast, "Just wandering." He tried to cover, and almost winced at how awkward it sounded. Panic began to drip down the back of Lance's neck.

Silence stretched, as Pidge analyzed Lance from head to toe. They were too smart, They knew Lance was trying to hide something. He couldn't bail or it would get worse. He needed to change the subject.

"So, Britney Spears?" Lance said lamely.

Pidge raised a brow, "Yeah?" The word was laced with challenge.

"Yeah... I didn't take you as the Britney type, doesn't seem to suit you..." Lance knew the words were a mistake when Pidge's lips immediately pulled in irritation.

"The. Type?" They replied slowly, the challenge from before was louder.

Lance scrambled, "Umm, you know." He gestured at all of Pidge.

They crossed their arms, and leaned back, "No, Lance. I don't know. Why don't you tell me."

Oh, no. What did he get himself into? Lance knew that what he said was stereotyping, it was wrong and judgemental, but it was reflex. He did to Pidge what other people did to him all his life. He wasn't the type to braid hair, so he only did it for his sisters. He wasn't the type to do facials, so he only did it in private. He wasn't the type to grow his hair out, so he cut it. The list went on and on. No one outside his own family, saw through him, and called him out, when he wasn't being honest with himself. Until now.

"Ummmm…" Lance really didn't know what to say.

Pidge leaned forward, "Don't give me that 'Type' crap."

Lance took a step back, the force of Pidge's irritation was solid.

They continued without giving Lance a chance to respond. "You of all people should understand." Pidge tapped the top of their head, and Lance knew they were reminding him of his hair clip. "Placing expectations on someone based on society's values, isn't OK. It's all bullshit. This is why I kept some of my music to myself."

"Sorry," Lance cut in before Pidge could continue. "I didn't mean it, I just…" He trailed off. He could have said so many things. He was just scared, ashamed, trapped in the social constructs of a society light years away. He looked down at his feet.

Lance heard a long and slow sigh.

"Lance."

He looked up at the sound of his name, Pidge had a strange smile on their face. "Relax, I get it. It's hard to let go, but fuck, man... we're in space, there are aliens. No one it suited for anything, everyone can do what they want, and we're all probably going to die anyway."

The laugh that escaped Lance was so sudden, it surprised him. He felt all the tension drain from his body, because Pidge understood, and they expressed it in such a Pidge way. No touchy feelings required.

Lance thought back to the picture of them in a dress, looking very different from right now. That was Pidge, and this version in front of him, was Pidge as well, because Pidge was whatever they wanted to be. There didn't need to be a long, and complicated conversation for them to understand each other. Pidge figured Lance out the day he walked into training with Allura's hair clip, and they encouraged him.

"That's what I thought when I started growing my hair out, I'm in space, so fuck it," Lance admitted.

Pidge hummed in agreement, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Lance watched as Pidge seemed to think on something. He felt fuzzy, in a good way, it floated just above his skin, and kept him warm.

When Pidge spoke again, "When we go back to earth… Let's stay the same." It was a request, but it was also permission, for him to be himself, and also an offer of acceptance from Pidge.

Lance nodded, without hesitation. He couldn't imagine going backwards, and he appreciated their gesture more than he could express.

"Yeah," He agreed.

"Now, get out of my lair, you dork." Like a switch, it was back to snark and sarcasm..

"Your lair?" Lance sassed, and crossed his arms.

Pidge waved their arms around, "What else would you call this?"

Lance shrugged, "Point taken." Suddenly a thought dawned on him. "Where's Hunk? He said he was coming to help you a while ago."

"He is helping me, he's in one of the engine rooms, and I really do have to finish this work before we get to the new planet." Pidge put their goggles back on with a smile that wasn't there when they first turned around.

"I want a copy of all the music you've been hiding." Lance insisted.

Pidge turned back to their work table, and waved over their shoulder without looking back.

"See ya, Pidgey." He called out as he left.

Ooo

Lance was back to his original situation, only now he felt lighter. The smile on Pidges face, mirrored his own feelings about their weird conversation. He wasn't sure what exactly they concluded, but he felt accepted, and that's all that mattered. Now with renewed confidence, Lance was prepared to face Keith, or the possibility that Keith was avoiding him.

A few hallways away from Pidge's lair, was the hidden rec room. Lance stood at the end of the hallway, and stared at the open door. A fiery hum in the back of his mind assured him that Keith was in there, not in his room out of Lance's reach. The fear of rejection that lingered in Lance, stirred, and met the apprehension that thrummed through him.

Lance took a deep breath, and walked the length of the hall. He hesitated for a moment before entering the room.

Keith was sitting on one of the many couches in the room, his back to the door. He stood, unsurprised, when he heard Lance enter, and slowly turned. Keith's hard edges, that had long ago softened for Lance, had reemerged. He shifted back and forth on his feet, broadcasting his uncertainty.

Lance was struck by how similar this was to the first night on the observation deck. When Keith had walked in, and interrupted him and Hunk. He had looked so out of place, just like he did now.

This wasn't right, they had become so close. Pain rolled through Lance, it washed over his fear, and his own insecurities. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the headband. Keith didn't back away when Lance approached, but he also didn't meet him halfway.

Before last night, Lance would never touch Keith casually, but now, he took a chance.

"Here, Rojo." He reached out and pulled the headband over, and down around Keith's neck. Then he pulled the front back up to fit around Keith's head, pulling his hair back. He let out a breath when he was done, he had half expected Keith to pull away from his touch.

"Are you and Allura together?"

The blunt question backhanded Lance. Keith never kept his concerns or problems to himself when it came to Lance, it's probably the reason their friendship worked so well. Lance never had to wonder where he stood, or if he had done something wrong, because Keith always just told him.

How could Lance be so dumb? Of course Keith was upset about that, he was close to Shiro and was probably mad on his behalf. Then he went to train with Shiro, who probably bitched at Keith...

His body was released from the binds of his own worries, and he let his shoulders fall.

"No! No, no." The word flew from Lance's mouth, and the relief on Keith's face was instant. The rest of his explanation tumbled out in a rambling rant. "We are just friends. We sorta found some common ground, and she asked me to make her something, and then at breakfast I realized what it looked like, and I saw Shiro look jealous, and I thought, if he thought, that me and Allura were together, then maybe he would-"

Lance almost choked on his words when Keith suddenly hugged him, face pressed into Lance's neck. The heat that filled Lance went to the brim, and when Keith said something, muffled, and quiet against his skin, he almost died.

"What?" He managed to squeak out.

Keith pulled away, and put his hands on Lance's shoulders to give him a good shake. "I said, you are going to get yourself killed.

Lance blinked, "Why does everyone keep telling me that?"

Keith signed, and walked over to the couch. He looked back at Lance who was still rooted on the spot.

"Coming?" He asked.

Affection blanketed Lance's heart, and his chest expanded. "Para siempre," He responded, quietly.

Lance ignored Keith's confused look, and smiled. He took a lounging seat on the couch, and waited for his bewildered friend to sit next to him. Then, all at once, Keith climbed onto Lance's lap, and he curled up with his head under Lance's chin.

"You are too fucking nice, you know that?" Keith mumbled.

Lance almost didn't want to let himself believe that this was real, but it was. He brought his arms up around Keith, and felt him relax into the touch. This strange arrangement between them -cuddles and complements- was the new normal, and Lance had decided he could handle it, he hoped.

"Am I?" Lance asked in return.

Keith chuckled, "Yeah, only someone as stupidly selfless as you, would try to pull the shit you're doing to Shiro."

"Hey, I resent that," Lance huffed.

Keith adjusted his position so that his back was to Lance's chest, and he was sitting between Lance's legs. "You called me something earlier, Rojo? What does that mean?" He asked.

"Its spanish for red, seemed fitting." Lance said apprehensively, and looked down. He noticed Keith's fidgeting hands, a sign that he was also nervous, but he didn't reject the nickname.

"Let me try on your gloves." Lance blurted out impulsively.

"What? No." Keith tucked his hands under his arms for protection.

"Aww, come on, Rojo!" Lance reveled in the nickname rolling off his tongue, and dug his fingers into Keith's sides trying to pull his hands out. Keith squirmed and choked on a sound that was suspiciously like a laugh.

"Stop!" Keith yelled, his voice higher than Lance had ever heard it.

Lance abandoned his quest for the gloves, and instead started to tickle Keith.

"You're ticklish!"

"No!" Keith denied and twisted away. He fell off the couch dragging Lance with him.

They hit the floor, and everything went dark, pitch black. Silence enveloped them, only their breathing could be heard. Lance slowly sat up, he could hear Keith do the same.

"Whats going on?" Keith whispered.

"I don't know, I've never seen dark this… well, dark." Lance strained his eyes trying to see something, anything. This was truly what space was, this isolation. Lance went cold, he could feel the air leaving him, he was going to suffocate, in this oppressive blackness.

A warm hand took his, and Lance snapped out of his panic.

A soft click, and there was light, a small beam illuminated Keith's face. "My phone still works."

Duh, Lance forgot about his phone. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. His flashlight was working as well.

"Now what?" Keith asked, as he tried to look around with his light, but it was too weak to cut very far into the room.

Lance stood up and offered Keith his hand, "Now we go to Pidge, their lair is nearby."

Keith took his hand, and stood. "Pidge has a lair?"

Ooo