.

.

The universe doesn't make sense anymore.

Lance wants answers — how the heck does someone like Keith gain so much attention from the ladies in the various planets they visit, when half the time he just blows them off? Or when he seems indifferent or casual to their obvious flirting and interest, like they don't even matter to him?

Sometimes, he catches a glimpse of Keith's lopsided, teeny smile during those moments off in the distance, his body language loosening and slackening its previous, rigid tension. That's practically worse!

(Keith doesn't even relax around him. How is THAT fair?)

It's not a complete and entire mystery why anyone would get excited around him — Keith's a Paladin, after all; famous across the galaxy like the rest of them, and being the silent loner type might seem wildly attractive to certain individuals, and he's pretty. Erm, well. Pretty pretty for a hotheaded, idiotic goon lacking impulse control that will get them all killed one day, Lance sterns reminds himself.

Despite the large, celebratory gathering headed by a faction of the Voltron Coalition, nobody bothers with going around in their armor.

Lance feels himself becoming jittery and aggravated, as he spots Keith crowded by two of the local girls right smack in the middle of their party — Tuxmtiates, judging by the smooth, mango-orange skin that is mostly uncovered and small height and abnormally long, pale eyelashes.

He swallows it down, putting on the handsomest grin Lance can muster, sidling himself over between them and lightly resting a hand to their shoulders. "Ladiessss… how are we doing on this fine evening?"

One of the girls, with triple horns, curls her lip and picks up Lance's hand reluctantly, tossing it as if he were made of toxic space sludge.

"Ummmm… it's very rude to interrupt a conversation when you weren't invited to," the second girl announces, her with double-iridescent horns and sharp, fang-like canines, jerking away from Lance with a repulsed sneer.

He doesn't notice Keith shooting him a glance, while Lance goes crestfallen. It's mostly full of pity. "He's with me," Keith says dully.

Lance blinks, raising a finger to point to his own chest.

"He is?" After a long moment of blankly staring at Keith, he shakes his head and mumbles, Lance's voice growing confident, "Me… me is. I am. Yes, I am." He switches to a more coy and sultry voice, grinning to the alien girls once more. In his imagination, a cluster of blue-glow, little stars spin around Lance's head magnificently. "Hi. I'm Lance, the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Maybe you've heard of it?"

An awestruck, loud gasp. "Voltron?"

"You're a Paladin too?"

Both girls titter excitably and giggle, pressing in close to Lance's sides. The one who threw off his hand relocates Lance's arm to her waist.

"I'm Misa'h," the alien with the fangs says, blushing. "This is—"

"—Serpia," the other alien girl blurts out, leaping on her heels. Another giggle. "It's a honor to meet the Blue Paladin. We have heard all about you and your team's heroic deeds across the galaxy."

"The honor is all mine, gorgeous." Lance bends down to kiss the back of her mango-orange hand, exaggerating his wink aimed to Misa'h twirling her feathers. "I am here to serve you ladies as best as I can tonight."

More excitable noises and giggles surround him, high-pitched and contagious enough that Lance slips out of his act with a giggle too.

He claps the back of Keith's shoulder, leaning in and muttering out of the corner of his mouth, "I got this covered, buddy. Have a good night, see ya." Without listening to Keith's possible response, Lance gazes around delighted to his newest companions, shouting, "So, anyone wanna—!"

"Lancey-love, would you mind getting us some drinks?" Serpia trills, batting her eyelashes gracefully over her cheekbones.

"Absolutely, I can do that. Two drinks coming right up," Lance says cheerfully, not missing a beat. He looks at Keith again, disapproving. "If you're not gonna get lost… then at least try to not scare them off…"

For a milli-tick of an instant, Lance registers the semi-amused look on Keith's face when they meet eyes again. He walks off, desperately trying to ignore the warm, swimmy sensation in his gut. A lot of things about the universe doesn't make sense, but that does.

Keith getting under his skin, gnawing at his nerves and inner thoughts and making Lance feel like it's only them who ever existed.

Lance's walk goes into a speed-walk, as he expertly dodges Coran racing towards him and waving for his attention, grabbing two cups of this exotically fruity, fizzy, blue drink and vanishing into the crowd.

Only a few paces away, he hears Keith's voice dropping a pitch lower, rueful. "No, I don't think he would wanna do that…"

Misa'h and Serpia pout in disappointment and cock their heads, whining.

"Of course I can do it—what are you even talking about, Keith?" Lance says brightly, showing up in front of everyone and presenting the non-alcoholic drinks. "I'll do anything for my two favorite girls."

At his sly, noisy wink, they clap their hands together and squeal.

Keith frowns at him, but without any unpleasant emotion. There's intrigue lingering faintly in his blue-grey eyes and doubt and Lance feels jittery again but in a good goodgood way.

He should probably ask what they were discussing. Lance opens his mouth and finds himself with Keith's lips brushing on his, soft and slow.

Whoa. Whooooooa.

Lance backs up, staring in a mix of shock and outrage, glancing between a solemn-faced Keith and the enraptured, overjoyed alien girls. Oh…?

Ooooh… …!

This is all kinds of questionable motive, but Lance definitely doesn't wanna ask himself. Not now. He moves back in, cupping a hand to the back of Keith's neck to steady the next kiss, when they shut their eyes and go in halfway. It's clumsy and tight, at first, with mashed-up, aching lips.

Keith breathes something against him, with a raspy, deep note, one of his hands touching over Lance's cheek. He opens up the kiss with another, dragging the top of his tongue wetly over the rim of Lance's mouth. His hair feels thick and silky and damp against Lance's clenching, shaky fingers. Lance wills himself to not freeze, allowing Keith's tongue to slip past his teeth, massaging it with his own and suckling lightly.

He… there's no no way…

The hot, slick tongue inside him leaves quickly. Keith steps backwards, a touch flushed but still appearing solemn. "How's that?"

"Really… good…?" Lance replies, dazed.

A chorus of breathless, happy giggles. Serpia and Misa'h choose to not answer the question directed at him, watching as Keith smiles close-lipped at the other boy, dragging his thumb over Lance's jaw inattentively.

.

.

Everything spirals from there.

Lance cannot find Keith anywhere, even after asking Shiro, near dusk. He's even more aggravated — no, infuriated more like, because two hot alien girls want to hang on him on his every word and Lance can't — he can't get that stupid, lousy kiss out of his head.

Not only does Keith get all of the attention, everywhere they go, but also he happens to deserve it? He kisses like someone who does kissing a lot… …

How to invite and stir warmth, the pliant nature of Keith's mouth to Lance's when they inhaled at the same time… Keith tasted like bulberries and a familiar heat clinging to raw, puffy skin… … …

Lance yanks himself out of his trace, noticing Keith's red-and-white jacket flashing between a line of Coalition members. He follows Keith with his eyes, dismayed to see some alien guy whispering into Keith's ear. He's about two heads taller than Shiro, with bulging, grey arm-muscles and a long, reptilian tail vaguely shaped like an arrow at the end.

Unlike the girls, Keith allows the alien guy to touch him more, stroking Keith's upper arm occasionally as they hold a conversation, or tracing his clawed fingers over Keith's abdomen, wrinkling his shirt.

As soon as they sneak off, Lance's immediately strategy becomes wait — for a minute or so, before he figures out what direction.

The planet is habitable, with green, towering forests and stone-made bungalows housing advanced tech, and its own living ecosystem. There's a sizzle of electricity in the air, and a rumble of thunder sounding over the mountains. Lance quiets his footsteps, heading for the denser brush.

Even in the growing darkness, Lance can spot them. The tall, muscular alien guy has a messy-haired, breathless Keith pinned to an outside, stone wall, Keith's legs hitching up mid-air and wrapping around his middle. They dry-hump at an erratic rhythm, only punctuated by a moan or two.

Keith's head thrown back like the picture of abandoned, slow-building ecstasy, his mouth hanging open, as the alien guy pumps a clawed, grey hand between their hips, mouthing and biting down Keith's throat.

He's touching Keith in a way that…

Lance feels a sweltering hotness close in on him, dizzying his head. Agitation crawling beneath his skin. He collides into the tree beside him, cursing softly at the sharp-sting of pain hitting his elbow.

"Who is that?"

The alien guy speaks up, more roar than voice, as Keith straightens up. He furrows his brow as Lance peers out cringing, rubbing his injury and stepping from the brush.

"I, uh…"

For once, Lance feels at a loss for words. He shrinks a little under Keith's silent, narrow-eyed glare.

"Could you give me a minute?" Keith asks the now suspicious alien guy, unaffected by a huffing, curt grumble as he disappears into the bungalow. Lance's eyes zone in on a grey, reptilian claw possessively landing on the side of Keith's hip, squeezing.

Once they're alone, Keith's glare softens on Lance.

"So why are you stalking me? It's weird."

Lance's agitation blows up like a supernova, creating more destructive energy.

"He's the weird one!" he yells, gesturing furiously. "And I'm not freakin' STALKING you… I'm… I'm making sure you were safe when you left. Because we're a team." Lance makes a show of crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Safe from what…?"

"His… creepy, grabby hands," Lance insists, still yelling. "Did you not see the size of those things? And you let them in your pants?!"

Instead of blowing up too, Keith seems exhausted.

"This is not happening…" he mumbles, turning for the bungalow's door.

Lance races forward, grabbing onto Keith's shoulder. "Okay, Keith, but when the hell were you into dudes!?" he says, lowering his voice to a hiss. Keith lets out a sigh, pushing Lance's hand away. "You don't even know this guy, right? Does he have a name?" At the pointed, unblinking silence, Lance's face twists up in exasperation. "Oh my god, do you even know his name?"

Keith flattens his lips into a single, white line.

"He has one…" The front door pries open against the weight of Keith's hand. "Hey, what's your name?" he calls to the alien guy, peering in sideways.

"… Michea'l?"

The sheer uncertainty of the disembodied voice answering Keith peaks hilarity in Lance's gut. He tries to not burst out laughing. "That was… super convincing, dude," Lance tells him, snickering.

Keith avoids his eyes, shaking his head and grinning.

Grinning.

He punches Lance's arm, not hard enough to bruise.

"Shut up," Keith mumbles, his blue-gray eyes squinting. Lance would trade a million dates with the hottest alien girls in the universe… just to see Keith like this more often around him. Way too shy to fight and rage, rosy-hot with embarrassment… grinning hard at Lance like a dork… …

Lance exhales, psyching himself up.

For what he wants.

"No, seriously, you shouldn't have to bump uglies with some random guy to have a good time tonight," he says, nodding to Keith slowly gazing up. "You… should…"

Lance's face grows hot, his pulse thudding in his ears, but he works through it.

"Spend it with someone you do know, someone… someone who really cares about you, man. Not this lamebrain." Lance flashes a sheepish, smiling look. "Okay, I'm not gonna lie eithe … I can't stop thinking about that kiss… I know it didn't mean anything…"

"It did," Keith's voice rises above the rolling, dark thunder, firm and steady. "I thought you only wanted everybody else but me."

Lance's head spins again. Relief.

"… Thought I did, too."

The universe can't fit in the spaces between Keith's fingers, but Lance grips his hand there anyway, satisfied with the answers laying hidden.

Maybe it all doesn't have to make sense.

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.


Voltron isn't mine. This one I know is a little OOC but I don't caaaaaaare. I'm working through my emotions and I'm reclaiming Klance in my heart because I refuse to let a bunch of wankers make me dislike this ship, and the way to do this correctly? Write for Klance! :) I had fun! Hope you had fun reading! Thoughts/comments are always always loved and appreciated! WHO SURVIVED SEASON 5 YESTERDAY? WHO HAS WATCHED? I'M BARELY ALIVE!