Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a quick mission to the Rodga nebula. There never really are things such as 'quick' missions , Keith muses.
A tip-off from a member of the Blade of Marmora suggested to the team that Zarkon's loyalists were setting up a base of operations there on an asteroid belt. All they had to do was get in and out, so they sent Keith in Red and Lance in Blue, both had the speed and agility necessary.
None of them expect the loyalists to have a new sonic weapon to disrupt their cloaking technology. Blue is caught first, pulled into the Galra outpost within moments via tractor beam. Keith can't even raise Lance on the comms, though he can outmaneuver the ships. It only takes Keith a few seconds to send out the distress signal back to the castle-ship.
Shiro is immediately on the comm. "Keith! Allura will open a wormhole and you can–"
"You get the others to the coordinates I'm sending. I'll stay and look for an opportunity to infiltrate," Keith says as he reactivates Red's cloaking.
"Keith, I really don't think–"
"They have Lance," Keith bites the inside of his mouth, "And Blue. We can't form Voltron until we get them–ow!" Keith screams as pain runs electric shocks all over his body.
It's familiar.
**
Part of Garrison training involved self-defense and military resistance classes. When his class was learning how to use a taser, Keith stupidly volunteered to be part of the "controlled exposure" as they called it.
The next thing he knew he was on the floor, limbs heavy as bricks and a stinging feeling like he'd been slapped across the face, instead it was his entire body. Keith may or may not have cried, but there was definitely some kind of fluid–maybe it was sweat or drool–pooling around his face.
No one else in his class volunteered to go next.
When Keith finally regained control of his arms and legs and could limp back to his quarters, Shiro hadn't been too happy with him, and lectured him pretty hard even though he allowed him to moan on the couch in Shiro and Matt's shared dorm. Matt gave him an entire sleeve of thin mints and found a Twin Peaks marathon for him to watch on TV.
The next day when Keith was asked to speak to his classmates about the effectiveness of using tasers to suppress an enemy combatant, his only response was: "Yeah it's effective as fuck , sir."
**
So the Galra have another new weapon, wonderful. Pretty sure I don't get cookies and David Lynch this time. Keith thinks as he feels his muscles lock up in pain and he starts to fade in and out of consciousness. He barely has time to act, but he uses the last of his free mobility to grab his bayard and force it close it to his body, hoping it will catch to the magnetic holds on his paladin armor.
Keith sees the readout on Red's screens before his eyes slip shut. It's some kind of electric webbing able to penetrate the Lion's defenses and effectively taser him from the inside. His screens are flickering, the weapon is shorting them out.
Keith hears Shiro, joined by the voices of the other paladins screaming over the comm for him before everything goes black.
**
Keith wakes up with a pounding headache, as he's being half-carried by two Galra sentries through the now familiar purple-lit corridor of a Galra base. Great, must have hit my head–but I was wearing my helmet. I'm not now. Ugh. Everything is terrible. My mouth tastes like blood. Fuck tasers.
The sentries turn a corner and another Galra joins them. This one is dressed differently from druids or the war generals Keith has encountered in the past. They are holding something that looks like a small silver gun, and reading information off of a tablet. Keith smells something kind of sterile, antiseptic, and their clothes are lighter in color. A science officer, or maybe a medical technician?
"Ah, the Red paladin is awake now. Stop him here," the Galra says, and presses the barrel of the small weapon against Keith's neck. It's cold, and Keith feels the small pinch of a needle and a head-swimming rush that accompanies being drugged with whatever the hell they've just shot him with. The sentries resume walking him alongside the Galra officer.
Keith breathes out in frustration. He's feeling warm, loopy, his tongue is suddenly feeling like it's too big for his mouth and...
Keith shakes his head. No, no way. He's getting another flashback to his self-defense classes at the Garrison, and Iverson ranting about sodium pentathol that he was injected with as a soldier. But Keith clearly remembers him saying that it didn't actually work, and it could never be proven in court that he fired on civilians. But damn, his mouth feels really heavy, like it's not working right.
"My mouth doesn't work right," Keith mumbles. "Too heavy."
"Excellent, he'll be pleased that it's already working." The Galra claps their hands as they open the doors to the next room.
There's a long table in the middle, and sitting at one end eating what looks like some kind of fancy meat dish is definitely a Galra higher-up, Keith can tell from the uniform and the cape.
This one has pointed elf-like ears, long white hair. His eyes don't glow gold, but he's definitely Galra. There are two other high-backed chairs on the other end of the table, two place settings in front of them, but Keith can't see if they're occupied.
Keith is walked around to the seat on the right, as the caped Galra laughs at something funny his guest on the left side of the two seats has said.
And then his attention falls on Keith.
With a vicious gleam in his eyes, he wipes his mouth daintily with a napkin and stands. "So glad you could join us, Red Paladin," he gives a slight bow at the waist. "I am Prince Lotor, son of Emperor Zarkon, heir to the glorious Galra Empire. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Keith sneers. "S'not mutual, stupid pointy ears," he says through the lumpy feeling in his mouth. Keith looks away from Lotor and sees the occupant of the other seat at the table.
"Lance!" Keith says a little louder than he'd intended.
Lance looks–well the expression he'd always think of was like a cat that had got into the cream. He's slumped down low in the chair, his legs splayed out and limbs hanging loose around the armrests.
Lance rolls his head to the side to face Keith, dreamy calm expression on his face. "Heeey… Keeeith… Thasss Keith… Uhhh…" Lance attempts to motion to him with his hand but it falls back down limply. Lance blinks slowly and lolls his head around to look down at the table. "What was I saying?" he asks Lotor.
"Yes, your comrade and I were having a lovely chat. He's been rather… forthcoming." Lotor flashes a Cheshire smile at Keith, fangs and all. "But unfortunately lucidity is becoming difficult for the Blue paladin to hold on to," Lotor shrugs and sits himself down, motioning for Keith to be placed in the chair next to Lance.
The sentries force him down, his body still stiff and screaming at being bent at the legs. He can feel his hands twitching as they cuff his legs and arms to the chair, somewhat stabilizing him. Which is good because Keith doubts he could even stand on his own right now, and he really doesn't want to fall and whack himself on the head again.
"Can't risk the effects of my new weapon wearing off while we chat, and I wouldn't want you to try anything like running off before we've had the pleasure to get to know one another." Lotor hums and turns from Keith back to the Galra that brought him in, "You gave him the concentrated dose like Haggar recommended, yes, doctor?"
"Yes, we doubled the dosage I used on the Blue paladin," answers the Galra who Keith supposes is what they'd pass for a 'Doctor'. "Though it's effects are not showing as quickly, I still have more doses should we need it." The Doctor holds up the needle gun.
"Mm. We'll see if it comes to that," Lotor delicately picks up his utensils and cuts off another piece of meat-looking food from his plate, he nibbles carefully. "Now that we're all here, and I've introduced myself quite formally, Blue Paladin, remind me of your given name and origins again?"
Lance picks his head up, pupils blown wide. "Lance Alessandro Carlos McClain-Del Rios, son of Lorenzo Charles McClain and Giada Anna-Maria Del Rios, from Mantanzas, Cuba or Palm Bay, Florida depending on the holiday season and family birthdays," Lance recites without hesitation. Lotor nods, gesturing to Keith.
"Keith, Red paladin," he sneers at Lotor, "You also have stupid hair."
Lotor gestures at the Doctor and the needle is punching him in the neck again. They wait minutes, seconds, hours, Keith can't really tell. He's starting to taste panic biting the inside of his mouth.
Lotor rests his chin on his hands and leans closer, "Tell me your name."
"Keith, ow! Damn it!" Another punch to the neck with the needle. "I do not like you!" Keith shouts at the Doctor.
"The Doctor is running out of the diluted serum. They'll start using the stuff they'd use on me next." Lotor stabs his food and tears off a piece with pointy canines. "What's your name?"
Keith sighs, letting go of the weight he's holding. "Keith Akira Kogane," he answers.
"Family?" Lotor asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Mike and Carol Brady. Three brothers and three sisters, Marcia, Jan, Cindy, Bobby, Greg and whatshisname…" Keith rattles off and Lance snorts.
The doctor looks at Lotor who gives him a nod, he removes a capsule of yellowish liquid from his needle gun, and reloads it with dark amber one.
Keith's ready for the pinching at his neck, but not for the word vomit that spills out about three seconds later.
"My dad's name is–was–is Ryan Kogane. Didn't know mom too well, but dad said her name was 'Kira Sky' one day when he was drunk, but he was slurring so he could've been saying that she 'killed a guy' for all I know. Got stuck up in the foster system after he died and lived in El Paso until I ran away. Ended up in Alaska and decided that I hated the cold and I'd proven my point to my stupid dead dad that I could get from one end of the country to another without any help. Emancipated myself in Vancouver because Dad has–had dual citizenship with Canada and Korea, which contradicted my earlier point and I'm still bitter about that, thanks. Made my way down to Arizona after I got accepted to the Galaxy Garrison and lived there or nearby up until now." Keith gasps for air, glaring at Lotor. "That enough backstory for you, bastard?"
Lotor raises an eyebrow. "Interesting."
"No fucking way, you're Canadian," Lance says. Keith turns to see an amused Lance, draping himself over the armrest now, seemingly enraptured by his story. "Canadians are supposed to be nice ."
Keith feels his lip twitch. "I am nice. You're the one always picking fights with me and I hate it." Keith bites the inside of his mouth to try and keep more from spilling out.
"Say 'about'. Say 'sorry'. Say 'bag of milk'." Lance laughs, falling back in his chair. "Mm sleepy."
Lotor nods to Lance. "Feel free to sleep now, Blue paladin, I think your comrade is ready and willing to fill in more of the gaps for me." Lotor waves the doctor away. "We should be fine, I'll call if your services are required, Doctor. Leave that please." Lotor motions to the needle gun which the Doctor places on the table.
Keith has been staring straight ahead but he feels something let go and he tests swiveling his head from side to side, gently. He gets a face full of Lance at his left, not realizing how damn close the chairs are. Lance is giving him that dopey-drugged out smile and a little wave with his hand. "Heyyyy Canuck-eith," he says quietly.
"Damn close these chairs," Keith says. "Ah damn it. Fuck. Stop talking. How do I stop talking?" The lines between Keith's normal inner monologue and speaking aloud have blurred terribly.
"This will not end well," Keith says.
Lance laughs so hard that Keith can feel his breath on his face and a hand resting on his shoulder. Lance's. Lance's hand on his shoulder, weakly squeezing it.
Keith swallows. "Lance's hand is on my shoulder," he says.
"This guy," Lance is laughing, squeezing it more, "What'd I tell ya, Tory? He's a riot! Ha!"
Lotor hisses at the nickname. "Prince Lotor," he corrects.
"Oh that's right. He hates, hates nicknames. So sayeth Prince Lotor, Prince of Lotorsylvania. Sovereign ruler of the Lotorinas. Inventor of the Lotorangarangaroo," Lance says before nearly collapsing against Keith in a fit of laughter. Lotor does not look amused.
"You can see why I summoned you here, he's been devolving in and out of coherence, and the Doctor was afraid another dose may worsen the loss of his–" Lotor waves his hand idly.
"Awesomeness," Lance answers. "Which is scientifically impossible, by the way."
"S-stability," Keith stutters. "You n-need to stabilize, Lance, you need–"
Lance cuts him off by leaning forward and tapping Keith's nose. "Beep boop, best nose in space best be quiet," Lance leans close and stage whispers, "Don't be telling that pointy ear Prince all my secretest secrets."
"Really close," Keith says. "You are very. Close. Lance," he says carefully, swallowing back a gob of saliva that's started to pool in his mouth. Lance's hair always smells nice. "How does your hair always smell so nice?"
"Shhhh…" Lance leans closer and the finger slips from Keith's nose to his mouth. "Secretest secrets."
In fact, Lance is leaning forward in his chair so much so that it falls out from under him with a bang and he's practically climbing the arm of Keith's chair. "The floor is lava! Protect me, Red paladin of the lava people!" Lance shouts and laughs as he manages to end up sitting on Keith's armrest with his arms wrapped around Keith's shoulders. This really cannot end well. Keith takes a deep breath as he feels Lance curl around him.
"P-please just ask me whatever you need to ask, Lance needs–" Keith starts.
"Lance needs a nap." Lance states, petting the top of Keith's head. "Bye, Felicia," Lance says to Lotor as he squirms around again, settles his head against Keith's shoulder and his breathing slows.
Keith can feel sweat running down his temples, he should not be this close to Lance. His heart is thumping fast and he closes his eyes.
"This is," Keith starts.
"Not going to end well?" Lotor says with an annoyed tinge to his voice, "You've said that quite a few times."
"–his hair is soft." Keith squeezes his eyes shut as the word vomit starts.
**
Blue eyes and tanned skin. A smile that refuses to leave his face, and short brown hair that Keith wants to bury his fingers in because it looks so good.
Keith spots him across the auditorium when a laugh catches his ear and he feels his breath hitch. A voice overhead tells the freshmen to find their seats as orientation begins.
Keith can feel his hands tighten against his knees almost uncontrollably as the guy flops down in the seat in front of him and fuck he smells good. He smells like a fresh shower and clean soap and vanilla and Keith realizes that's his hair. His hair that just falls slightly over the edge of the seat and Keith's leaning forward almost uncontrollably.
It doesn't take much in the closeness of the auditorium, the rows are narrow and the seats are cheap and Keith's fingers lift from his knees and with just the grazing of fingertips he can touch the boy's hair.
It's so fucking soft. He lets his fingers play with the flyaway strands, and no one seems to take notice.
Time skips, and Keith almost yelps when the guy dips his head backwards at what would be an awkward angle, but damn this guy is agile. Keith is quick to pull his hands back and fold them across his chest.
"Hey, so the name's…" he whispers to Keith, and the words are lost as all Keith can focus on is how his Adam's Apple bobs up and down. Keith's thinking about how he could suck on that and bite it and lick down his entire throat. "…time 'sit?" he catches the tail-end of.
Keith blinks and looks at an empty wrist and fuck say something you creepy socially inept fucker say something to him! "Eleventeen?"
The guy laughs so loud he sends himself into a coughing fit and has to be clapped on the back several times by the tall guy with the headband next to him. Keith sinks into his chair and tries to disappear.
The guy gets in trouble for interrupting and turns to glare at Keith who can only mouth "sorry," and look down at his feet to avoid a glare he knows is already there.
After it's over he's lost in a crowd so it's a convenient enough excuse that Keith couldn't find him after to properly apologize. Instead he spends an hour on Shiro and Matt's couch with his face buried in a pillow, refusing to say anything.
**
Lotor raises an eyebrow. "Not exactly the deep dark secrets of the paladins of Voltron that I was looking for."
That hair is tickling Keith's ear. "He's not supposed to smell this good, it really isn't good for me to be this close when you've got me drugged full of space truth serum or whatever this is."
"And that's because," Lotor prompts.
"I say dumb weird shit when he's this close. My head gets all fuzzy and my mouth gets a mind of it's own and I can't be responsible for what I say or I do because I've been so fucking into him since the moment I saw him and I'm kind of glad he's not awake right now, because I'll start going off about wanting to suck his Adam's Apple or his dick or both." Keith swallows. "Which I do, but not simultaneously because that'd be really hard and he's flexible– fuck he's flexible I've seen him bend his leg over his head on a dare –but I'm pretty sure that would involve a broken neck and back for at least one or more of us."
Lotor holds his hand up. "Okay, let's move on from the anatomy lessons and whoever this Adam-person is. Tell me about the Castle of Lions."
Keith tries to bite back his words but it hurts, and he can only hold in a breath for so long. "What.. about the Castle…" he starts, and then feels Lance readjusting his arms around Keith's shoulders. Keith's attention is torn away again. "Our rooms are next to each other," Keith breathes out.
He can't stop from telling Lotor the truth, but maybe he can circumvent it!
"One time Lance was so tired and I forgot to lock my door and he walked into mine and it took him like three full minutes of staring at me before I convinced him he was in the wrong room, and then he apologized and got all weird because he said he hasn't sleepwalked since he was a kid, but now I sometimes consider not locking my door and seeing if he'll just walk inside and spoon me or something, and I feel like a total creep and a total sap at the same time, and it's so sad, isn't it?"
Lotor looks like he's eaten something disagreeable, then he looks at the silverware at the table, picking up an implement that closely resembles a spoon. "The translators must be off, what exactly do humans use this for at night?"
Keith laughs, loud and hard until his sides ache and Lotor's face grows more and more confused and upset.
"Are you mocking me, Red paladin?"
"Ohhh man, so that was a literal translation? Galra don't know how to spoon? That's terrible. You all must wake up feeling lonely and cranky." Keith sighs. "Which I can relate to."
"I'll have you know I sleep on the finest linens and wake up with the galaxy in the palm of my hand so I arise feeling amazing, Red paladin!" Lotor says and puffs out his chest. "More amazing than you'll ever– ever wake up feeling in your short, miserable spooning existence!"
Keith can't help as the laughter comes back. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," he snarks in his best impression of one of Matt's favorite retorts to his stubbornness back in the Garrison.
"I am not Lady Doth!" Lotor shouts as he stands and throws his fists on the table. Keith raises his eyebrow, but Lotor continues, "Quiet! Shut up! Now tell me about the Castle of Lions!"
"I can't really do both." Keith smiles.
Lotor growls, grinding his teeth together. "Tell me about Princess Allura! Now!"
Keith cocks his head to one side. "She's a Princess? Goes by the name of Allura?"
"Where is she–"
"She's really pretty, and Lance hits on her all the time and it drives me nuts because I get it, he likes her, and I mean he flirts all the time with everybody and he'll never feel the same way. I just wish he could warn me when he's gonna start flirting with her so I can leave the damn room."
"That's not what I wanted to know, tell me about the technology you have on the ship and how Allura uses–"
"Technology is more of Pidge and Hunk's area of expertise, but–" Keith feels himself slipping and then pulls it around again. Focus on Lance, if I link everything I'm saying back to him, he's not going to get anything useful . "They were Lance's teammates back in the Garrison. Hunk got to be his roommate. Shiro thinks I'm jealous of Allura, but really if anyone gets to be close enough to Lance to make me jealous it's Hunk."
"Oh my stars!" Lotor shouts. "Shut up about the Blue paladin already! How can you possibly be this hung up on him? You said yourself you don't have a chance, why can't you…" Lotor pauses, his left eye twitching. "How in all seventeen hells did you just manage to pull me into your-your–"
"Tragic soap opera excuse for a love life?" Keith tries to supply. "I mean it's kind of hard when the guy you're hung up on is draped all over you and you're all dopey with truth serum and man, Lotor I am glad you've got me cuffed because I honestly don't think I would be able to avoid cuddling this big lanky goofball that I just can't make myself get over. Even though he hates me."
Lotor puts his face in his hands. "Why?"
Keith sighs, he's really stopped caring about whatever Lotor is continuing to mutter and rant about, he feels Lance's breath against his face, and he watches him, the rise and fall of his chest, the way he keeps adjusting his arms, cuddling himself closer to Keith.
"Why does he hate me? Well, I could tell by his eyes," Keith murmurs.
**
"Hey! You're that guy! The guy who took like, 5 tasers to the face at once and was up and flying the simulator like an hour later, right?" Keith hears to the left of him. He slumps against his locker and with a sigh he turns, ready to correct whoever is next to him spreading rumors (even if the truth is far more embarrassing, he doesn't really care).
As Keith readies himself to disappoint and possibly alienate his newest "fan," he finds his voice catching and his heart beating faster at who he sees.
And of course, because the universe hates him, he can't remember the guy's damn name.
"Man, that's so cool," the guy sighs. "Wish I could've done that," he says with an almost-dreamy expression as he crosses his arms and leans back against the lockers.
Keith is suddenly snapped out of the fog of being so close to his crush by the sheer stupidity of that statement. Twinges of phantom pain in his arm muscles and crying and blowing gobs of snot into his pillow and– what the fuck ?
"You… wish you could have been tasered ?" Keith says as calmly as he possibly can.
"Yeah, they don't let us do cool stuff like that in Cargo pilot classes."
"Cool stuff."
"Yeah, I wish I was in the same class as you." A wistful smile.
"You… You'd want to do that? Get tasered in a 'controlled environment' because some sadistic instructor thinks it'll help you learn better? Be incapacitated for hours because you are in so much sheer physical pain that all muscular control gets lost and you–"
"Sorry," the guy holds up his hands. "I heard it differently, I–"
"–You wake up in a pool of body fluids and your asshole classmates are taking selfies while you twitch and then the next day all your teacher does is give you a demerit for swearing and it's not even worth the goddamn smuggled-in girl scout cookies." Keith takes a deep breath.
"Um."
"It's not. Fucking. Cool. At all. I'm just the idiot who volunteered and went first."
"So."
"It was one of the most painful experiences in my life and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."
"Yep."
You are lucky to be in the Cargo pilot class, and I wish I was there with you. Keith doesn't say, just, "Please don't try and glorify it."
The guy nods. "Got it. No problem. Absolutely no glory whatsoever. Painful and disgusting and lots of TMI. Now, can I have my shirt back?"
Keith blinks. Somewhere in his ranting he'd ended up fisting the guy's uniform and backing him up against a locker, his stance ready to attack.
Blue eyes are meeting his, the eyebrows aren't elegant or mischievous arches anymore, they're knit together in concern–no it can't be that, they barely know one another. Is it pity? Or is it…
Fear . He's afraid of Keith. Suddenly Keith's back in foster homes, scared out of his mind and lashing out and making anyone he can feel scared too. He's punching a kid three times his size in the face until it's bloody and raw and he never gets looked at again without fear, even as they take him away.
Keith's hands are still shaking as he releases the guy's shirt like it's burned his fingers, and Keith quickly mumbles "sorry," before he's running off.
A week later Keith is talking with Shiro when he sees him walk by and Keith avoids eye contact like a crazy person by literally throwing his face in a book. Shiro clicks his tongue.
"He asked about you," Shiro said.
"Who?" Keith feigns ignorance and Shiro crosses his arms.
"Technically he went through his roommate, who went through Matt to me. He wanted to see if you'd be open to an apology."
Keith shrugs. "He's got nothing to apologize for."
"The way I heard it, you have something to apologize for."
Keith sighs, his expression falling. "Not now."
Shiro half-smiles. "Want to come over and cry on the couch about it?"
Keith sees the guy over Shiro's shoulder, looking straight at him. Keith scowls and turns away, ignoring the sound of a locker slamming shut in anger.
A little over a year later those blue eyes have lost their pity and fear and they're glaring at Keith with incredulity as they help him carry Shiro away from the Garrison.
"The name's Lance ."
**
"I'm sorry, Lance," Keith whispers as he swallows down his guilt again.
Lotor's ranting, waving around the needle gun, and he's shouting at a communications panel on the wall.
"I'm telling you, there's something wrong with the formula! The first one went loopy and delirious and is now unconscious, and the other one won't stop talking about his sorry excuse for a love life and using me as some kind of counselor for the lonely-hearted. You need to get back here and fix this, Doctor!"
Keith almost laughs but quickly stills as he feels Lance's hand falling behind his shoulders, inching down his back.
Wait.
"Something's," Keith starts and suddenly Lance's other hand is over his mouth. Lance's eyes are open and he uses the momentum to turn Keith to face him, their noses almost touching.
"Shhh." Lance's whisper is barely audible, he tilts his head to speak directly into Keith's ear. "Can you lean forward at all?"
Keith does as much as he can within his bonds and the stiffness in his limbs as Lance's eyes look above Keith's head. He must be watching Lotor .
Keith feels Lance pulling out his knife from the holster on the back of his paladin armor, and Lance smiles, and then stifles a laugh. It might be from Keith's expression, his eyes are wide half in panic, and half in shock that Lance's hand was just brushing his tailbone.
"Gonna borrow this. Will you talk if I move my hand?" Lance whispers.
Keith shakes his head no.
Lance takes his hand away from Keith's mouth, and with a wink he moves off the chair, Keith turns to watch as he stays low, Lotor completely oblivious to his movements
Lance really is agile as fuck , Keith thinks as he bites his lip hard.
Lotor finishes yelling with a final "When my father hears about this!" at the Galra on the screen, and clears the call by slamming his fist against the button on the panel.
"When my father…" Lotor says to himself, sadness tugging at the edge of his voice.
Lance stands upright, just a hair shorter than Lotor, he's still got his back completely to Keith. Lance gives him a glance over the shoulder and mouths 'Watch this'.
'What?!' Keith mouths back, almost wanting to shout at him. Lotor spins around and Lance shadows him perfectly. Keith slams the back of his his head against the chair.
Now is not the time for a goddamn I Love Lucy bit, Lance! Keith thinks as Lotor screeches.
"Wh-wha? Where is he? Where is the Blue paladin!?" Lotor shouts at Keith as he slams his hands and the needle gun on the table.
Lance looks over Lotor's shoulder, signaling Keith, pointing down at the floor and miming a key turning in a lock.
"He's… he's still in the room. You should lock… it down?" Keith answers carefully, earning a thumbs up from Lance.
Lotor runs to the control panel, still not seeing Lance creep behind him shouting "Lock this room! Immediately! No one in or out!"
"But sire–"
"Do it!" Lotor cuts the call again and Keith hears the bolts turn on the door. "Where?!" Lotor's hair whips around so quickly it smacks his face. Lotor spits his hair out, his eyes are a frenzy of emotions. "Where in the room is he?"
Keith shrugs. "Um, behind you."
Lotor blinks cartoonishly and Keith is reminded of the look Wile E. Coyote would give the audience before falling off a cliff. Lance's arm is around Lotor's neck now, Keith's knife pressing closely to his skin.
"Heya." Lance smiles.
Keith can't help but return his smile as Lotor swallows carefully.
**
Moments later Keith is unshackled, and Lotor takes his place. Lance carefully maneuvers Keith back to a sitting position when they realize he still can't really move his arms or his legs.
"Are you sure?" Lance asks as he seats him in Lotor's ornate chair.
"Yeah, I've been a useless noodle-person before. It's gonna take a while longer before I can move properly," Keith says.
Lance laughs and Keith raises an eyebrow. "Useless noodle-person? You wound me, Kogane. I resemble that remark." Lance turns back to Lotor. "I told you, he's so funny, but so mean to me!"
Lotor grits his teeth and gives Lance another snarl.
Keith looks at Lance. "No! I don't think you're useless!" he shouts way louder than he meant to. Keith feels the blood rushing back to his head, making him dizzy and nervous. "I… I mean you…"
"I was faking the whole thing, yeah," Lance looks down and picks up the Doctor's needle gun. "Started the plan once they told me that this would 'make me talk'. I mean, I've seen every James Bond movie ever, I know a truth serum ploy when I see one. Figured if I pretended it was super-effective right away I'd be able to shake off the serum quicker and buy myself some time to figure out the next part. Once Lotor let it slip that you were here too, I decided to play it up so they'd bring you in next."
Keith furrows his brow and Lance continues, "You always have at least three sharp objects or potential weapons on your person. I was pretty sure even the Galra guards wouldn't find them all." Lance frowns. "I'm gonna need to use one of them to get Princey-pants here to tell the guards to bring us our Bayards back."
Keith takes a deep breath. "Lance, I–"
"Ut!" Lance's finger is on Keith's mouth. "We're not doing this in front of grape-flavor Legolas." He beams, "I have been saving so many annoying nicknames I thought I was gonna burst, you heard that right Lotor, I'm gonna nickname you until you cry… Space Draco Malfoy!" Lance finishes with a snap of his fingers.
Lotor bangs his head against the chair. "I will get you your damn bayards just please, please stop making me watch the two of you making moon-eyes. I'm going to be sick. "
"Oho," Lance asks with a sway of his hips. "Moon-eyes?"
"I have no idea what that's supposed to be translating to," Keith says. "But I think it sounds pretty, actually. Kind of poetic." There's still too much of the residual truth serum in his veins, he can't help it.
"Well, let's find out from the purple horse's mouth?" Lance says as he lines up the needle gun at Lotor's throat. "Here's hoping I don't hit the wrong artery, my Galran anatomy lessons don’t start until next week."
"Here's hoping you do," Keith mutters as Lance doses him.
"What's Moon-eyes?"
Lotor blinks a few times, holding his tongue in-between his teeth. "My father is going to…" he starts and bobs his head. "Whuff. What is happening?"
Lance clicks his tongue and doses Lotor again. "What's Moon-eyes?"
"You look at the Red paladin like he could pull the moon from the sky and present it to you." Lotor swallows. "And he does the same."
Lance turns back to Keith. "Okay you were right, that was poetic and beautiful. Sucks that it came from a violet-elf-looking-prissy-pants like him."
Keith laughs. Lance shrugs, "They're not all gonna be winners, Keith. Give me some slack!"
"I liked it!" Keith says, "I like your jokes, Lance." He closes his eyes, it's embarrassing all over again and of course Lance has just been evading every compliment like it was nothing.
"I'll tell you more if it means I get to see that." it feels like Lance is closer again, that warm breath and softness is there when Keith opens his eyes to see Lance crouching down to meet his eye level, he runs his thumb along Keith's cheek. "You're blushing."
"Lance," Keith starts again as he watches Lance's mouth move closer and closer to his.
"I just vomited in my mouth!" Lotor shouts, spitting out a gob of something disgusting. "Oh hell, please let me wash my mouth, out it's burning! I will do whatever you want!" Lotor sniffs.
"Is he crying ?" Keith asks with surprise.
"Awww. Do you not like watching us flirt?" Lance says as he ruffles Keith's hair and turns to drop his jaw. "Oh shit he really is crying."
Lotor is crying. Big fat tears down his cheeks. "I really hate throwing up! I want my father to bring me sweet milks and rub my back until I fall asleep."
"He actually is Space Malfoy," Lance says. "This is amazing."
"I have no idea what that reference is," Keith says and when Lance gasps, clutching his chest, he offers, "You can explain it to me?"
"Oh, I'm gonna explain it. I'm gonna make Pidge and Hunk and Shiro dress up and we are going to re-enact all seven damn books once we get out of here!" Lance winks.
"Augh!" Lotor whinges again. "Why are you still making me watch the two of you? I hate seeing people be affectionate because it makes me feel horrible about myself since no one likes me and everyone says I have a shit personality and that I'm too short and my eyes are hideous so I grew my hair out to hide them." Lotor bangs his head against the back of the chair again. "Please make this stop," he says with a sob and his shoulders slump down, hard.
"Sounds like someone's ready to tell their guards to bring us a couple of Bayards," Lance sing-songs. "No betrayal, no secret codewords. Or else you have to watch, this ."
Keith barely has time to register when he's lifted up in Lance's arms and spun around. Keith laughs and Lance stops just short of kissing him when Lotor interrupts with another fit of pterodactyl screeching.
"See? I have the best plans," Lance says with a grin.
Keith feels his hands tremble as they come back under his control, and with his own sly smile, he grabs Lance by his face and pulls him in for a kiss.
"I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you," he says against Lance's mouth when they finally part.
"I've wanted to do that since Eleventeen o'clock, you massive jerk," Lance says as Keith wraps his arms around his neck to draw him in for another kiss.
**