Chapter Text
Lance tried not to let Keith's words from the wedding haunt him, but they sparked his nerves nonetheless.
"I just don't see the point," Keith said, voice dripping in his typical moodiness.
"What do you mean you don't 'see the point?'" Lance asked, aghast. "They're in love. Why shouldn't they celebrate it?"
"We're at war ," Keith persisted, his gaze dropping to the tabletop while his lips pulled into a frown. "Who knows what could happen…"
His words at Shiro and Allura's wedding had completely shot Lance's confidence for the evening. Of course, everyone realized that the wedding had been as much a way to uplift the coalition as it had been to concrete Shiro and Allura's relationship, but that hadn't been what Keith was talking about. It didn't matter that Shiro, general, strategist, and hero, and Allura, princess and paladin of the blue lion, were an alliance bound to play at the romantic imaginations of their allies. Team Voltron knew the truth. Which was where Keith's sour feelings came in.
It'd been such a beautiful wedding. Being there had nearly given Lance the courage to confess to their fearless, albeit rash, leader. But then Keith had completely stomped that into the ground. How could he confess when the idea of love had Keith so annoyed?
But the kicker was that Lance was almost certain that Keith felt the same way. They'd become close as the years had worn on, especially after Lance's accident. Best friends even, though still with an antagonistic streak (it was part of the appeal, to be honest). And while Keith still wasn't as open with him or anyone as Lance wished he would be, he kind of hoped that the two of them giving into their feelings would change that.
When it was just him and Keith, alone, Lance could feel it between them. The tension. The things unsaid. For a long time he'd been convinced he was making it up, but there were too many fond looks that he'd caught, too many times Keith had gotten upset with his flirting, and the physical touches—insignificant as they were—that Keith bestowed on no one else. Lance was almost positive that Keith had feelings for him.
Then he'd gone and said what he had at the wedding and, well, Lance had pretty much decided it wasn't worth saying anything at all. He was comfortable, really, so long as he and Keith could be friends and work together. They hadn't really had time for romance, that was true, but Lance still ached to clear the air.
And now… now things were different.
Zarkon was gone. Haggar was gone. Lotor was on the run. The galra empire was in shambles. The Blade of Marmora and the resistance were chasing down those trying to get away.
The war was, to a certain extent, over. Damage control had to be done, of course. There were criminals to catch, civilizations to rebuild. Voltron was still needed. Their positions were permanent—Lance knew that now. He'd come to terms with it. And so long as he could serve beside Keith and his friends—his second family—he was sure he'd be fine.
But even if their Voltron duties never ended, he wanted more. Which was perhaps what had baffled him most about Keith's attitude. War or no war, they were in the same position. So what was the point of not being in love? Or not celebrating it, in any case. Might as well get their happiness where they could, or so Lance figured.
And that was what he kept telling himself as he tried to settle his roiling stomach.
The team was being allowed a much needed, and much deserved, vacation. The castle was in orbit around Earth, whose citizens were generally aware of aliens and the war at that point. Not like Zarkon wasn't going to eventually attack Earth, what with almost all the paladins having a home there. Of course they'd defended it, but not without outing the entire situation to Earth's citizens.
Hunk was going home to stay with his parents and the rest of his family. Pidge and Matt were going back to their mother—even though they had to deliver the horrible news of their father's death. Allura and Shiro were visiting Shiro's family, then taking their (much delayed) honeymoon. Coran was taking a happy break aboard the castle.
And Lance, well, he was going back to his family, obviously.
The only problem was convincing Keith to go with him. Keith, who'd claimed that he was looking forward to some alone time on the castle. He had no home to go back to on Earth and had claimed the castle was his home now. But even so, Lance didn't want to leave him. Especially if the whole reason he was staying behind was because he had nowhere else to go.
Inviting him home to Lance's family wasn't confessing, exactly, but it was… a step in the right direction.
It was something.
Taking a deep breath, Lance whispered some encouraging words under his breath (you can do it! Keith is a butthead, don't be afraid of him!) before finally pushing forward through the control room door, which he'd been standing in front of for nearly ten minutes.
His focus zeroed in on Keith immediately. He was standing, or probably brooding, over by the left window, arms crossed over his chest. Lance almost rolled his eyes at how typical it was.
Shoving his hands into his jean's pockets, Lance hunkered on over before sliding right up next to him. He got the satisfaction of Keith whipping his head toward him in offended surprise (honestly, more as though he was offended that he'd been surprised) before his expression cleared into that wide-eyed, curious kind of cluelessness that Lance knew was far more "Keith" than any of his aggressions.
"Oh, Lance," he said rather stupidly. "I thought… I thought you'd left already."
"I'm about to," he confirmed, rocking back on his heels as he did.
"Oh, yeah, of course." Keith glanced back to the window, Lance easily able to read his disappointment despite his attempts to hide it behind dissatisfied neutrality.
"Lookin' forward to spending lots of quality time with Coran?"
"I doubt we'll see much of each other," Keith replied flatly. "Not like the castle is small or something."
"True, true." Lance nodded. "And you could always go to Earth if you wanted. You know, get some sun or something. You could use it, Snow White."
"Gee, thanks." Keith glared hard at the window.
"Just bein' honest." Lance elbowed him in the side, causing Keith to sway. "But hey, you're welcome to stay with me and my family if you do." Here goes. "We only live a five-minute walk from the beach."
Keith side-eyed him suspiciously. "Uh, thanks. I'll… keep that in mind?"
Sometimes Keith's inability to understand the subtle was enough to kill a guy.
"What I mean," Lance went on, "is that you should stop by. There's totally enough room for you."
Keith snorted. "Yeah, I don't think your family will want me impeding on their time with you."
Lanced sobered considerably. "I don't care what they want." The seriousness of his tone had Keith flicking his gaze up to him. "You're not impeding. That would never be the case and if my family had a problem with you, which they wouldn't, then I'd have a problem with them."
His words seemed to shock Keith, his lips parting as he blinked. But within the moment, his brows were pulling together with uncertainty and he was once again looking out the window.
"I don't want to get in the way, Lance," he murmured. "Besides, what if… what if they don't like me?" His question came out as a whisper that Lance could barely hear.
"Keith…" Reaching out, Lance placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They could never not like you. They wouldn't… they wouldn't feel any differently about you than I do."
Keith released a bitter laugh.
"Hey, I'm serious." Lance forced him to face him then, turning him forcefully by the shoulder. "They'll love you."
He didn't quite realize what he'd said until it was out of his mouth, and even then the reality of it didn't hit until Keith's big, dark eyes were searching his, those pale cheeks going slightly red.
Coughing awkwardly, Lance pulled his hand back and shuffled a step away, his own face flaring.
"Lance…?"
"Just come with me," he practically begged, barely managing to find the courage to look up again. "I don't want you staying up here all by yourself."
"I'll be fine."
"I know that!" Lance huffed. "I just don't want you to. I want you… I want you to come with me." He wanted Keith to meet his family. He wanted to show off how great their black paladin was and how great of a leader he'd become. He wanted… so many things.
"I… Lance…" Keith worried his bottom lip. "I don't know…"
"Please, Keith." Reaching out again, Lance placed both his hands on Keith's shoulders this time and offered up a reassuring smile. "Don't make me beg. Because I totally will and that would be so embarrassing for both of us."
Which finally had Keith cracking a small, albeit nervous, smile.
"You… You really don't think they'd mind?" he asked quietly.
"No, never. My mom will be thrilled to have you, I promise." He squeezed Keith's shoulders reassuringly. "She'll probably want to adopt you as soon as she sees your sad, orphan eyes."
Keith's expression flattened. "Fuck you."
Which had Lance gasping, before he fanned himself and batted his eyelashes. "Take a girl out to dinner first, Keith, my goodness."
"Maybe I don't want to spend a month with you after all."
"Too late, let's go!" Grabbing Keith by the arm, he turned and began to drag him toward the center of the room. Keith stumbled at first—a lame attempt at resisting—before giving in (which he did far more often than not these days).
They didn't have anything to take with them other than the clothes on their backs, but Lance asked anyway. He'd stuffed some knickknacks and other miscellaneous items that he'd gotten along the way into Red, but that was it. Everything he'd need to live on Earth was on Earth.
Keith didn't have anything take, so Lace deposited him on Black's entry pad, which had Keith furrowing his eyebrows curiously.
"Aren't you taking Red?" he asked.
"Sure."
"Then… why am I taking Black?"
"Are you kidding?" Lance asked as he headed toward the door that would take him to his own lion. "My cousins would be thrilled to see one lion, let alone two. Besides…" Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "You're the black paladin. You're our leader. I want them to… to know how important you are. To the team and- and everything."
Yes, he wanted to show Keith off. A lot. To everyone. To the whole world. Or at least his neighborhood.
"Oh… okay."
"And then you can always, you know, leave if, like, my family becomes too much for you, or something."
"Lance." He flicked his gaze up to Keith, seeing as it'd previously been on his shoes. "That won't happen."
Once again with the tender expressions that shot Lance right through the heart. Keith really needed to get that under control.
"Well, you know," Lance cleared his throat and turned away. "Just in case."
Deciding he wasn't prepared to say anything more, Lance stepped into the elevator that would drop him down. And his thoughts were preoccupied with Keith all the way to Red (but that wasn't really a new thing, as it were).
Red was practically laughing at him as he sat down in the pilot's seat, sans armor.
"Blue would never have laughed at me," he muttered, which had Red's mirth dying in favor of simmering jealousy. "Serves you right. I hope you think long and hard about what you did."
"Who are you talking to?" Keith's voice came through the speakers.
"Uh, just Red," Lance replied, grabbing hold of the control sticks as his lion's cockpit lit up. "She's being bad."
"Red's never bad."
"And see? This is the problem with you two," Lance lectured. "You're too indulgent of her. Never bad my ass. Pretty sure you almost died trying to impress her the first time."
"She was just testing me."
The castle hatches opened and Lance directed Red out into space despite her sour disposition. "That's what she wants you to think," he said, Black arcing down toward them in the same moment. "Cock and bull if you ask me. She just likes to be difficult." If they weren't in the vaccuum of space, they might have been able to hear her roar of protest. As it were, it simply vibrated up and down Lance's spine. "Yeah, yeah, complain if you want. Like I haven't dealt with cousins that were worse, you overgrown housecat."
"She's gonna eject you out into space one of these days," Keith said.
"She knows I'm right. You want to know why?" Lance grinned despite that Keith couldn't see it. "Because you and her are just alike, and I know you'd never throw me out into space."
"That's debatable." Pause. "Oh my god, Black, I'm not going to throw Lance out into space. Technically, he's already in space." Another pause. "I'm aware we're not wearing our armor. Lance isn't going into spa- Black, I know, you don't need to lecture me!"
"Uh oh." Lance snickered.
"Shut up, Lance. Black's all worried now, so thanks. Though I don't know why she's bothering to worry about you."
"Uh, probably because all the lions love me?"
"Sure."
"They do! Blue loves me, obviously. Red loves me even if she pretends she doesn't—yeah I know the truth no matter what you say—and Black must think I'm pretty rad seeing as she let me pilot her that one time you were kidnapped by the Galra and I had to rescue you." Red had been out for the count and Lance had been desperate.
"Pretty sure that's not all the lions."
"Pretty sure you thought having mullet was a good idea once, so your opinion doesn't count for anything."
"Uh, as leader of Voltron, I'm pretty sure that my opinion is the most important."
"And as lieutenant, I get to tell you to shut your quiznack when your opinion is stupid."
"Lieutenant? I didn't realize we had official titles now."
"You know it's true. You couldn't do anything without me."
Keith scoffed, but he also didn't object.
"Now let's go," Lance decided, turning Red toward Earth. "Your pasty butt needs the beach."
"I'm pretty sure I'll just burn."
"More entertainment for me."
"Fuck yo- You know what, you suck."
Punching the control sticks, Lance laughed. "Such inspiring words from our leader."
"Can you two quit flirting? Some of us are still in our lions!" Pidge's voice came abruptly over the coms.
"Yeah, it's disgusting!" Matt agreed.
Lance definitely hadn't realized anyone else was listening. And based on Keith's silence, neither had he.
"Sh-Shut up!" Lance said lamely.
"Wow, such wit, such-"
But Lance cut off communications with Pidge, before making sure to do the same with everyone except for Keith.
"Stupid Pidge…" he muttered.
Keith just hummed in what Lance thought was disapproving agreement.
As it was, they were currently looking at Asia, which definitely wasn't right.
"This is so weird," Lance muttered, pushing Red's thrusters to speed up as they headed around the globe. "Looking at Earth like this, I mean."
"Yeah, it is weird."
"Like looking at a map."
"Only more size-accurate."
"Yeah! Who knew Russia was so huge!"
Keith chuckled and Lance was unprepared for how the sound made his heart skip.
They slowed as they circled toward the southern end of the United States. "I can't quite see through the cloud cover," Lance muttered. "But home is down there somewhere."
"I see… Florida, I think. So that must be Cuba right below it."
"You don't think they'll shoot at us when we break the atmosphere, do you?"
"Well… they know who we are. And I bet Pidge, Hunk, and Allura have broken the atmosphere already."
"Yeah, that's true. Let's just go."
Punching Red forward, they were pushing through the atmosphere within moments. The clouds rushed by beside them, Lance bringing up the scanned map of the land below so as to determine their trajectory. When they broke through the clouds, Cuba was so close that the city lights were visible. Which had both of them slowing considerably.
"This is so weird," Lance whispered, his stomach flipping at the sight of the island so close below them.
"Yeah, it- it really is."
"I mean, we're on Earth! In our lions!"
Lance couldn't decide if it was simply strange or maybe the best day of his life.
They were so close now that they had to pull up, their lions skimming a few dozen meters above the green landscape. The sight of the trees, the cliffs, the warmth, was enough to have Lance grinning from ear to ear.
"Where are we going?" Keith asked.
"Uh, northern part of the island. Varadero area."
"Er, okay."
"Why bother asking if you don't even know where it is anyway? Not like the lions have GPS."
Keith growled, but stayed some ways back, following on Red's right haunch.
"Hmm, there's the coast…" Lance muttered to himself as the ocean came into view.
"What are all those lights?" Keith asked. The sun was setting, so the city was beginning to cast all its light pollution into the sky.
"That must be Havana," Lance decided thoughtfully. "We need to go east of Havana." He turned Red slightly in that direction, but it was hard to gauge distance from above when he'd never done so before. And nothing looking familiar from the sky.
"Hmm…"
"Please don't tell me we're lost," Keith dared to say.
"We're not lost!" Lance shouted, Red slowing as he surveyed the landscape below. Black hovered beside him and, below, families in a small suburb were rushing out of their houses to point up at them. Red took some close-up images that pleased Lance immensely.
"Where are we, Lance?" Keith asked flatly.
"Hold on, I just need to find…" Lance peered across the landscape. "Ah! There!" He punched Red to travel a bit further north.
"What?"
"Central Highway 72," Lance said happily. "Or I hope it is." Taking Red further down, he aimed for an open area beside the road before dropping down toward the ground.
"Lance!"
"I'm just checking what mile marker we're at," he said simply. "Chill."
Keith remained above while Lance put on his thrusters and skimmed the side of the highway until he found a mile marker. Traffic slowed, maybe even stopped, but he was far too preoccupied with getting home to care.
"Okay!" he said as he took back off into the air, causing a few palm trees to blow nearly flat as he did. "We're just south of Matanzas, so if we head due north-west, we'll eventually see Varadero. Once we find that, I can find my house!"
"Uh, if you say so." Keith said as Lance took off, Black once again at his flank. The trip didn't take long and soon he could see the skinny stretch of beach that could only be one place.
"Varadero!" he announced and aimed Red for the less-populated area between Varadero and Cardenas. Once he had kind of a general estimate of where they were, he aimed for the coast. Dropping down toward the water, he scanned the beaches for anything familiar as they put on their thrusters and floated slowly down the edge. Red, meanwhile, was sending him images of humans running onto the beach to see them. It seemed to amuse her a great deal.
"There!" Lance said suddenly. "That's the beach near my house." The lions came to a full stop, thrusters still engaged above the water.
"So… where do we land?" Keith asked.
"Uh, hmm." Lance tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Let's just land by the beach I guess. In the water, so we're out of the way?"
"If you say so."
Directing their thrusters, they hovered above a small curve just off the beach before slowly landing, so as to prevent any huge waves from rushing in. Once the lions were grounded, they lowered their heads for disembarking.
Jumping up, Lance grabbed the one bag he had before sprinting from the cockpit. He practically vaulted from Red's mouth into the water, his whole body alight with excitement!
"C'mon, Keith!" He yelled as his teammate entered the water at a far slower pace. He seemed unhappy with the state of their exit and swam over to the Lance with a frown creasing his lips.
"The salt water has destroyed my clothes," he muttered.
"We need new clothes anyway. And it hasn't destroyed anything, jeez." Rolling his eyes, Lance reached out and grabbed Keith by the shoulders. Without mercy, he dunked him under the water, which had Keith flailing and sputtering when he came back up.
His long hair was plastered over his eyes and a slew of profanities erupted from his mouth.
Lance laughed and laughed. Until of course Keith came after him, which had him sailing through the water toward the shore. Behind them, their lions rose up into the sitting position before putting up their shields. In front of them, locals were rushing down the beach to get a glimpse.
Lance was sure his family was among them.
Just the thought had him swimming faster, his arms and legs pumping until he was touching sand beneath his shoes. Sprinting through the water, he didn't stop even as he broke out onto the beach. He slowed some then, scanning the thickening crowd that gestured and gaped at them. It was almost too much, the familiar white sand, the palm trees that lined the woods bordering the beach. The clear skies and pink-tinted waves (from the sunset). Even the breeze pulled his attention, the way it shifted through his hair and brought up the smell of salt and sunscreen from the sea. How many nights had he dreamt of this?
It almost didn't seem real and the fact that it was nearly had him breaking out into tears.
He was home.
"L-Lance?" The voice reached him as he scrambled across the sand. He recognized it, the sound sending a shockwave through his whole body.
How long had it been since he'd heard his mother's voice? Almost five years.
The tears did come then.
"Mama?" The word felt dry in his mouth, his eyes scanning the beach as his steps slowed. There were a lot of people, many of them gesturing and yelling about the lions as well as the two boys that had dropped out of them. But Lance was used to that. It didn't pull his focus as he tried to find that familiar face. His efforts soon became desperate, his bag falling from his shoulder and landing with a thump in the sand. It lay forgotten within moments, as did Keith.
His family was there. His family-
"Lance…" His mother's voice again, this time so close that it had Lance's head snapping to the left. And there, as if the sight of them were unfolding from one of those pop-up birthday cards, his family's faces wavered into view. At the front, having pushed her way through the crowd, was his mother's familiar silhouette.
She was bit thinner and her brown hair a little grayer. But the lines of her face were familiar and the watery shimmer of her eyes—while punctured with shock—welcomed him home, as they had so many times before.
"Mom!" Lance found himself choking out, the soles of his worn shoes scraping against the sand as he shoved himself into a sprint. Her hands had come up to cover her mouth while tears slipped down her cheeks, mirroring her son's.
Lance didn't hesitate in the least when he reached her. How many nights had he lain curled up on his bed, thinking of his mother's comforting arms around him? Maybe he was a mama's boy, maybe he should "grow up," but dammit he loved his mom and he'd missed her and he'd been at war and he wasn't ashamed. He'd long since run out of time and patience for such shame.
"Oh, Lance," his mother sobbed as he wrapped his arms around her. The familiar scent of oranges and detergent surged up through his nostrils, making his tears come faster. She seemed shorter, or maybe he was just taller, but it didn't change the familiar press of her body against his. She was trembling, and he was too, and they were both sobbing and maybe everyone was watching, but he didn't care.
"Mama," he cried into her shoulder, sniffling as he did and holding her tighter.
"I knew- I knew you were alive," she said quietly, her hold on him nearly as tight as his own. "After we heard about what was going on out there, I knew that was where you were. I knew it was you."
Someone else was wrapping them both up a second later, Lance recognizing the familiar smell of cigarettes and coffee. His father. And then everyone was there, and they were all crying and talking and Lance was overwhelmed in the best way possible. He hadn't received so many hugs at one time ever and even though it was hard to recall all that was said and who said it and how many hugs he'd even gotten, it was one of the best moments of his life.
"Just look at you," his mother went on when she eventually stepped back. Everyone had quieted some, but they surrounded him nonetheless, wiping at their tears despite how fruitless the endeavor probably was. "You're so grown up." She reached up and lightly touched his cheek, where Lance knew he had a bit of five-o'clock shadow.
"Yeah, you really filled out!" His oldest brother, Chad, said as he slung an arm around his shoulder. "Not a spec of baby fat left on you."
"You're skin and bones," his mother countered, both her hands cradling his face.
"Still not as big as me though, huh," his brother went on, jostling him slightly. Chad had always been big. The biggest of them all. Shaped more like Hunk than the rest of the skinny McClains.
"I'm all muscle, unlike you," Lance replied, poking Chad pointedly in his rounded belly.
"Muscle or no, you're still a beanpole," his sister, Patrice, interjected, taking her turn to poke him in the side. She was the closest to him in age—only two years older—and they shared a likeness in appearance as well. They'd oftentimes been mistaken for twins. But Lance towered over her now. He hadn't even realized how much he'd grown.
Was he… Was he the tallest?
"Quiznak, I'm the tallest," he marveled.
"Barely!" His other brother shouted, shoving his way past Chad. Lighter skinned, like his mother, and just as much a beanpole, Ray had always bragged that he'd forever be the tallest of them all. Well, seems the tables had turned.
"Yeah, it's only like an inch difference," Sophie, his final sister and the second oldest, held up her fingers in a pinching like motion, before removing her glasses so she could wipe her eyes again.
"What's a 'quiznak?'" One of his nieces—Loraine he thought, though five years had made him uncertain—asked as she tugged on his jacket.
"Uh, Altean word," he quickly explained. "It's a bad word, don't say it."
"Are you teaching my kids profanity?" Chad asked, pretending to be aghast.
"Not in any language anyone on Earth would understand," Lance replied easily.
"It's an alien word?!" Teo, Loraine's little brother, asked with a gasp.
"Altean, so, uh, yeah, alien," Lance agreed. "But Alteans look a lot like humans. They have pointy ears, and their pupils are pink!" Though he wasn't trying too hard to make it sound exciting, both kids gasped in excitement.
"I can't believe you're still wearing this old jacket," his father said then, tugging a bit on his collar. "It looks like it's about to fall apart." Which was true. Despite the fact that it'd been nearly five years, none of the paladins had been too intent on giving up their original clothes. It was all they'd had from Earth and so they'd stretched them as long as they could. Lance's jacket had been sewn and patched together numerous times, as had his jeans. He'd had to replace his shirt with a black one, and even glued the soles of shoes multiple times. But of all the paladins, he had the most of what they'd left Earth with.
"Well, clothes aren't exactly top priority when…" Lance's voice petered off. He'd almost said "when you're fighting a war," but the strain that had abruptly entered his mother's gaze halted his words in their tracks. No need to think on things like that, not then. Yet, even so, Lance fiddled with the fabric of his black leather gloves. One of the few additions to his wardrobe that had become permanent.
He didn't need to ruin their reunion with things like war and… everything else that waited in the back of his thoughts.
He swallowed and threw out a smile. "Not exactly a priority when you're busy being awesome and piloting the sweetest ships in the universe." His light-hearted tone seemed to put his mother at ease, though his father squeezed his shoulder in understanding.
His father was a veteran. Lance had never really thought that someday he'd be one too. The thought sent a cold chill down his spine, but he once again pushed against it with a positive grin.
"Is that big black lion your ship?" Teo asked and excitedly pointed out at the water.
"Ah, no, that's…"
Keith.
He stood some ways back, a single form apart from the crowd. None of the people that had come down to the beach had approached him, but Lance was suddenly aware of how many eyes were on them. And how out of place Keith looked, soaking wet in his worn and tattered clothes with Lance's bag slung over his shoulder.
"I pilot the red one," Lance corrected, before finally breaking away from his mother. He backed away from everyone, in fact, before taking a deep breath and reaching toward Keith. His fellow pilot appeared surprised, as well as nervous, and so Lance was gentle as he tugged Keith forward by the upper arm. "This is Keith. He pilots the black lion."
His whole family was looking at him, at Keith, and Lance was hyperaware of the way his fellow paladin stiffened at the attention, breath coming in and out in shaky bursts.
"But the red one is smaller," Teo objected, as if that made some kind of difference.
"Maybe, but it's also the fastest," Lance explained. "The black lion is the biggest because when we put all the ships together to form the giant robot, the black lion is the head. And since Keith is our leader, he pilots the black lion." There was a slight blush on Keith's cheeks and he leaned closer to Lance. Just barely—not enough to be noticed by anyone else.
"You're not the leader?" Loraine asked.
"Nope!" Lance shrugged. "Keith is much more suited to the job."
"Uh, I don't know about that," Keith finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual as his gaze darted nervously between Lance's family members. "I couldn't pilot the black lion without Lance. He's, uh, he's my lieutenant."
"What's a lieutenant?" Teo asked.
"It means I'm second in command," Lance explained, holding up a knowing finger as he did. "I'm Keith's right-hand man, literally."
"Literally?" Patrice asked, eyebrows furrowed curiously.
"The red lion is the right arm of Voltron," Lance replied. "The, uh, giant robot ship… guy." He was pretty sure the people of Earth knew a little of what Voltron was—they'd seen the robot when they'd saved the planet previously—but he didn't know exactly how familiar or even how in-depth the news they'd gotten had been.
"So you pilot… the arm?" Chad asked, looking just as curious as Patrice.
"Er, yeah, when we're Voltron. It's… hard to explain. There's mind connection stuff, and altean magic, and, yeah, basically."
"Magic?! Really?" Loraine asked excitedly and clapped her hands together.
"Yeah!" Lance grinned down at her. "One of the other paladins, Allura, is an Altean princess and she can use magic. She's like a wizard!"
"Wow!" Loraine was smiling from ear to ear. "Can you do magic?"
"Yeah, can you? Can you?" Teo tagged on.
"Er, I don't think humans can do it."
Both kids looked supremely disappointed.
"Alright, alright!" Chad came forward and herded both kids into his arms. "That's enough. I'm sure Uncle Lance has lots and lots of stuff he can tell you later."
"Oh yeah!" Lance waggled his eyebrows. "I'll tell you about the mermaids next!"
"Mermaids?!" both Loraine and Teo screeched, much to Chad's obvious displeasure.
"We should probably get back to the house," Ray said quietly then. "I think the crowd is getting bigger." Which was true. A lot had gathered down by the shore and were gawking at the lions. But a considerable number were very obviously eavesdropping.
"Oh, yeah, probably a good idea," Lance agreed. Keith's gaze became desperate then, drawing Lance's attention his way for only a second. A second that Lance used to cast him a reassuring smile, before turning back to his parents. "It's cool if Keith stays at the house while we're here, right?"
His mother's face fell into a welcoming smile right away. "Of course."
And so Lance cast Keith a blinding smile, before he finally dropped his hold on him. But he made sure to stay as his side as they headed past the ogling crowd and flashing cameras.
"While you're here?" Patrice asked, walking backward in front of the two. "So… you're not here to stay?"
Leave it to Patrice to bring up a subject Lance hadn't intended to touch until he'd been home at least a few days. Subtlety had never been one of her strong suits, he supposed.
"Ah, well, all the paladins are visiting Earth for about a month," he explained somewhat awkwardly, aware of the way both his parents glanced back at him. "But after that, we have to, you know, head back out. Lots of, er, paladin things to do and… you know. Space. That kind of thing."
Patrice did not look pleased.
"Space, huh?" Ray asked then, always a good one for keeping the conversation going. He and Lance had that in common. "I'll admit, that's not where I thought you'd be until those scary purple guys tried to attack our planet. And even then I was like 'nah, what would space guys need a useless lump like Lance for?'"
"Hey!" Lance glared. "I'm a very important person, you know! I'm a paladin of Voltron! Show some respect!" He held up his hand. "There's only five of us in the whole universe. Makes me pretty special."
"Special huh? That's one way to put it," Ray said immaturely.
Lance growled.
"So you've really met aliens?" Sophie asked then, pushing her glasses up on her nose as she did.
"Oh yeah, tons," Lance bragged, ignoring how Keith rolled his eyes beside him. They were headed up a sandy path and had passed through a gate which read "private property." Which would probably stop anyone too curious from following them. Hopefully.
Tall stalks of grass were wavering in the light breeze, the feeling of which almost pulled more sentimental tears from Lance's eyes.
"I have lots of pictures I can show you," he assured. "I took a lot of selfies."
"I want to meet an alien…" Chad pouted, the two children he held in his arms mimicking his expression.
"I'll introduce you to Allura and Coran sometime," Lance decided, before slinging an arm around Keith's shoulders. "And Keith here is half alien."
"Lance!" Keith hissed.
"What?" Lance blinked, honestly surprised at Keith's tone. He'd pretty much gotten over the whole Galra thing, or so Lance had thought. Granted, they didn't go around telling the civilizations they saved that he was Galra, but if they asked, they never lied.
"He looks pretty human to me," Ray said, eyes narrowed as he leaned quite close to Keith. So close that Keith shied away, a more severe blush creeping up from his neck. Which had him nestling more securely into Lance's side. "You from outer space?"
"I said half, you dweeb." Lance shoved Ray lightly back by the shoulder. "He's from Earth. He went to the garrison, same as me."
"Wait a second!" Patrice shouted suddenly, her eyes lighting up with mischief. "Keith, huh? Mullet Keith? That's you?"
Lance stiffened before rather awkwardly pulling away from Keith. "Shut up, Patrice!" he hissed, which only served to confuse Keith more so than he already clearly was.
"Aw, no way!" Ray jumped in. "This is the same Keith you always used to bitch about, isn't?"
"No!"
"Yeah it is! Black hair, scowly face." Patrice nodded knowingly. "Same guy."
"You bitched about me?" Keith asked.
Lance ignored him. "There were lots of Keiths at the Garrison!"
"Wow, how lucky for you!" Patrice reached out and tapped him on the nose. "Got stuck in space with the boy you had a crush on."
"WHAT?!" Lance squawked. "I did not!"
"'God, I hate Keith so much!'" Ray started, doing his stupidest impression of what he thought Lance sounded like. "'He's so great at flying and I wish I could fly like him and be best friends with him and talk about his hair all day long and have sleepovers in his dorm room, but he doesn't even know I exist. God, I hate him and his stupid mullet so much and-'"
"I never said any of that!" Lance objected fiercely, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Like you had to," Patrice muttered and rolled her eyes.
"I didn't!" Lance repeated, before turning hastily to Keith. "I never said any of that."
"Uh, okay…"
"No, he only talked about you every chance he got," Chad added.
"Chad!"
"I feel like I know you already," Patrice said, bapping Keith on the nose this time before twirling away with a giggle.
"I hate you all…" Lance pouted. "Why'd I even come back here…?"
"Because!" His father finally stepped in on the conversation, before gesturing ahead of them in a dramatically grand fashion. "You're home!"
A sight that shouldn't have taken Lance's breath away, but did anyway.
The house was practically the same as when he'd last seen it—before he'd gotten on a plane back to the Garrison following summer break. Two stories, chipping white paint. The window on the lower level, far right, was foggy due to poor sealing. The balcony along the front had never been repainted, and so was flaking worse than the house. There was a rocking chair sitting out on the porch where his Grandmother would sit and knit, and there were old, hand-me-down toys littering the sandy yard where his nieces and nephews played.
Just as it'd been when he'd left. Like he'd never left at all, yet…
"Lance?" Keith's voice was soft, barely audible, but it pulled Lance from his shocked reverie. Turning toward him, he pushed a small smile onto his face and ignored the curious way Keith's eyebrows pulled together.
"Yeah," Lance finally said aloud, his voice breathy. "Home."
Walking into the house felt like walking into another dimension. Which Lance should know, since he'd done it. Almost like he was floating—like living a dream. He didn't fear that it wasn't real, it wasn't that. It was just…
It was exactly the same. Faded wallpaper. The dent in the wall from where Ray had pushed him down the stairs. The small, overcrowded kitchen that was littered with hanging utensils since there was no room in the cupboards. The dining room table that was surrounded in too many chairs and always had them sitting elbow to elbow. The living room and it's mismatched, out of date furniture. There was a seam down the largest cushion on the loveseat where Patrice had tried to make a dollhouse and accidentally sliced the fabric instead of her cardboard box. Their mother had sewn it up.
The window behind the loveseat looked out over the backyard. Laundry hung on the lines outside, drying in the salty air. The curtains were dusty and pulled to the sides, never used. The walls were covered in photos, none of the frames matching and a lot of them hung crookedly. The crack in the ceiling from the kitchen to the living room was still there. Chad had told him that bugs would crawl out of it one day and eat him alive, and so for a week, Lance had screamed every time he'd run beneath it.
So many memories. Home.
Home…?
"Lance?" His mother's voice pulled him from his thoughts, her gentle hand resting on his arm. "Are you alright?"
"Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled, trying to put a little bit of strength into his voice and failing. "Just happy to be home."
Which had his mother mimicking his smile despite her concern. "It's Sunday, you know," he started a second later. "That's why everyone's here. We were just sitting down to dinner when we saw the two of you flying over, headed to the beach."
"Oh, awesome!" Lance grounded himself more firmly, pushing his… odd… feelings to the back of his thoughts in favor of salivating over his mother's home cooking. "Keith!" His friend had followed him silently around the house, keeping some distance as Lance had generally forgotten that anyone was there aside from himself. "You're gonna love my mom's food! It's, like, indescribable!"
Keith's soft, barely-there smile was enough to keep Lance in the moment, even though he felt like drifting.
It was summer, and so despite the setting sun, the food was already set up out in the side yard where a large picnic table was littered with the covered food his mother must have been setting out when they're landed. The yard lights were on and pointed into this side of the yard, while paper lanterns were strung up overhead to add extra lighting. All his siblings were there, as well as their spouses, who were just as thrilled Lance was back as the rest of his family. His grandparents too, who shed more tears upon seeing him (Lance was mostly just thankful they were still around. That had been one of his biggest fears in coming back). Only one in-law didn't know him—Ray's wife—but she seemed nice if not a little shy and confused by what was happening. And he had one new niece, only two, from Sophie, and one on the way for Ray's efforts. Patrice had a boyfriend that couldn't make it, but she assured Lance that they'd get along great. And everyone that met Keith was kind, despite how awkward and out of place he clearly felt.
Lance couldn't have imagined it going any better. Yet, somehow, he still felt as though he was only imagining it.
"Overwhelmed?" His father came up as the children were being rounded up for dinner, his soft gaze looking between both Keith and Lance.
"Uh…" Keith flushed, as if uncertain how to respond.
"A little," Lance admitted, before realizing what he'd said out loud and turning his gaze to his feet.
"It's alright," his father assured. "It's normal. When I… came back from overseas," he looked pointedly at Keith then, "I fought in the South Asian War," he quickly explained, to which Keith nodded in understanding, "coming home was… different."
"Everything is exactly the same as when I left," Lance reasoned, aside from the few additions to the family.
"Maybe." His father shrugged. "But you're not."
Words that Lance wanted to question, but couldn't. His mother called everyone to the table then, her familiar tone causing Lance's heart to jump in his chest.
He put his focus on Keith instead.
"You doing okay?" he asked quietly, as they sat down amongst the loud and clamoring crowd.
"Yeah, of course," Keith replied, before releasing a light chuckle. "I mean, it's not so different than the diplomatic dinners we always had to attend on other planets."
Reasoning that had Lance laughing. "Well, that's one way to look at it."
"Except I actually care if these people like me," Keith added, almost too quietly to hear. He glanced around self-consciously then, before taking a shaky breath.
"They like you," Lance assured, reaching up unconsciously and running his fingers lightly through the back of Keith's long hair—a short-lived gesture he committed only when Keith was extra fidgety, which hardly ever happened. Hence he hardly ever felt it appropriate to do. "You'd know if they didn't."
"I guess that's reassuring," Keith said flatly.
"Lance, pass the bread, please," Sophie asked, as it was directly in front of him. Everyone was loud and giving commands, food being passed every which way as everyone got what they wanted and helped those who couldn't. Lance could tell that Keith tried to assist, but was too quiet—and, frankly, nervous—to know how to include himself. And so Lance asked him every time he got a dish whether it was something he'd be interested in, which basically ended with Keith having the same plate of food that Lance did. But Lance ate a bit of almost everything, so not like Keith was at a great loss as a result.
"Uncle Lance!" Loraine called from the left corner once everyone was settled and had their food. "You guys can't wear gloves at the table! That's dirty!" Because neither he nor Keith had thought to remove the articles.
The statement had Keith turning toward Lance in questioning alarm, while Lance tried to calm the way his heart lurched in his chest.
"Yeah, c'mon, Lance, were you born in a barn or something?" Ray asked, tone deadpan and mocking as he shoved a carrot into his mouth.
"I guess if I was, then you were too," Lance rebuked hotly, hoping his tone didn't betray his discomfort.
Keith, meanwhile, kept watching him, silently asking what he should do. And so despite his hammering unease, Lance silently nodded. Which had Keith frowning, but he removed his worn, fingerless gloves nonetheless. Yet he kept his gaze on Lance as he went to slowly pull off his own, his posture protective in the subtle way Lance was familiar with every time a stranger would over-step their bounds.
"It's okay," Lance murmured to him as he pulled his first leather glove from his right hand and set it aside. Everyone was watching them, as the exchange was out of the ordinary, and Lance supposed there was nothing to do about the silence that gradually fell upon the table.
Taking a silent, but deep, breath, Lance pulled at the fingertips of the glove on his left hand, teeth gritting when the soft, matt white of the synthetic hand beneath slowly revealed itself.
It wasn't as harsh as Shiro's prosthetic. Hadn't been made as a weapon as the Galra had devised for him. Lance's prosthetics were Altean, Olkari, and "Slav" in design. White plates, metal still, but soft in appearance and more refined in details. Shaped to his body and to mimic what he'd looked liked from previous body scans, no one would know he had fake body parts until they saw the body parts themselves. Unlike Shiro, however, Lance had done his best to cover the evidence. Not because he was ashamed, but because he'd somehow drawn more attention than Shiro had. Hunk had reasoned that it was his attitude. Shiro was stoic and intimidating, and so nobody dared question him about his arm. But Lance was open and friendly, and so strangers had felt more at ease bringing it up in conversation, despite the fact that Lance was never interested in talking about what had happened. Hence he'd started wearing gloves all the time.
A few gasps echoed around the table once his glove was fully removed, Lance refusing to meet the eyes of any of his shocked family members. Especially his mother.
Into the silence, Teo squealed and broke the startled shock. "Uncle Lance has a robot hand!"
Robot arm all the way up to his shoulder, actually, but Lance didn't say that out loud.
"Cool!" Loraine screamed after him.
Their interruption, while warring with the mood of the older family members, managed to ease the tension some. But it still left Lance in an awkward position. Did he leave it at the arm, or reveal the truth of everything? He knew he'd have to eventually, but was it better to go slowly, or do it all at once?
His mother had always told him to pull the bandage off quick. It made it less painful that way.
If he did it all at once, he wouldn't have to do it again.
Turning to his niece and nephew, he plastered a wide, devious smile across his lips and waggled his eyebrows. "Wait until you see my legs!" He tried to sound excited, if only because it made the kids more enthusiastic, but was only comforted by the way Keith grabbed his thigh beneath the table and squeezed until it was painful.
Grounded. Stay grounded.
He was home.
At the other end of the table, his father had placed a hand on his mother's trembling shoulder.
Ray cleared his throat then. "Robots, aliens, lion ships. You sure any of this is even real and you're not smoking some potent weed, Lance?"
"I guess that means you'd have to be smoking it too," Lance fired back, jumping at the chance to move on.
"That wouldn't be so surprising," Sophie added, which earned her a glare from Ray.
"Speaking of," Patrice cut in then, leaning forward intently, "you gonna tell us about those mermaids or what?"
Keith stroked his thigh comfortingly under the table, holding him steady.
Lance had never been so happy to talk about mermaids.