The Best Klance Fanfictions

( the worse goddamn angel i've ever met) Part 2 oop-

Lance is SUCH a top. Keith just rad iates bottom energy like wow. i disagree with the roles in this story but ok here we goooooo
once again so sorry, my wattpad is being weirddddd

continue from last word of last chapter oop-

Keith was probably trying to think of what Lance wanted him to say, or what was best for the cameras, but even if those things were true both of his answers had still been really callous.

Was that just Keith being inept at communication, or was that how he really thought of their relationship?

Slav had finally decided on an eyeshadow palette, so Lance let his eyes close and his mind wander as the makeup artist smeared color over his lid. He wondered if it was worth talking to Keith about it. On the one hand, he didn't want to hear that Keith had been insinuating that he wanted more distance between them. On the other hand, from what Lance had seen of Keith so far he didn't look like he got a lot of practice caring for other people's feelings. Lance could be working himself into a tizzy over absolutely nothing. He did that all the time. It was one of the things he was best at.

When he got back to the workroom, still internally debating, he saw Keith was already wearing his outfit and sporting full hair and makeup. Sven had put him in pants that were something between joggers and capris, and had paired it with a sleeveless military-esque top that had a deep hood. It was dark, edgy, and Keith totally embodied its vibes with all the grace and poise of any multi-million dollar model. He seemed clueless to his appeal though, standing patiently in front of Sven's workstation while the designer stitched at something on one of the shoulders, looking.

"Wow," Lance purred, leaning against his own designer's workstation. Slav was in the sewing room hemming his pants, and Lance was one of the few models with hair and makeup but no clothes. He tried not to worry, instead thinking about how he was free to vent his frustration with his dumb, sweet, socially inept crush by nettling said crush when he was unable to run away. "You make that potato sack look good."

Keith shifted, looking at Lance with that expression he got when he wasn't sure how to handle him. "Well, I suppose that was the challenge."

Lance grinned, staring right at Sven as he said, "Well, even if your designer lands on the bottom, you'll know it wasn't your fault. Only Sven's."

Sven looked up and gave Lance an equally aggressive grin, "Hey, I'd like to think it was at least partially my talent. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"No, Lance isn't getting ahead himself," cut in the beachy blonde model from their first day, "He's just speaking the truth!"

"I almost chose him, you know," another designer added, "He just looked so angry I was worried he didn't want to be chosen by me."

Another model currently being stitched into a pair of shorts spoke up, "Yeah, Sven was lucky he had the balls to pick Keith. He's got such an intimidating aura, but once you get past his glare he's pretty enough he makes anything immediately look edgy and high fashion. It's that pseudo-asian aesthetic."

"Pseudo-asian?" Lance cut in. "I'll have you know Keith is real asian."

Keith, listening to the conversation, mumbled, "My parents are from Texas."

"I don't care if he's real or fake," a third model replied, "He's the most striking model in this room and that's all that matters."

Keith remained relatively quiet during the exchange between the models, at a loss for words. He had been prepared for Lance to turn his comment on Keith's looks into a joke. Land the pick up line, make a witty remark at Keith's expense, something to make it clear that Lance was just complimenting him because he wanted to flirt, not that he actually thought Keith was bringing something extra to the clothes with his modelling.

He knew Lance thought he was sexy, but being sexy was not the same thing as being a good model. But apparently Lance recognized that Keith did have modelling talent, and the other models in the room were all agreeing that Keith improved the clothes when he wore them. All this time he'd felt like an ugly duckling, like a low budget indie model that had gotten into this gig by grace of his connections, but hearing them talk now made him realize that everyone here saw him as an equal.

A laugh bubbled up out of Keith before he could stop it. The models and designers all went quiet, surprised at the unexpectedly light, pure tones of Keith's giggle.

"That," said beach boy, "was adorable."

"Did you really think our commentary was that funny?" asked Lance.

Keith smiled, but before he could reply Sven whistled and said, "Here I thought you couldn't get any prettier, but one smile and I realize I'm wrong."

Lance could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears as he watched Keith pause to process Sven's statement and then blush wildly as he realized its ramifications. Lance realized that Keith could be very clueless when it came to certain social cues. Certain things just didn't click for him. When they did finally click, they clicked hard and Keith did things like blush up to his ears- like he was doing now- or even return the flirting pickup line for pickup line- Lance had a sudden horrendous thought that Keith might start to return Sven's flirting. The designer had been hitting on Keith all yesterday, and now here at the last minute Keith had finally picked up on it.

Lance was just about to jump in and say something even more risque in the hopes of pulling Keith's attention back to him when Tim Gunn walked into the workroom and announced, "Ten minutes everybody, and then we are heading down to the runway!"

Slav rushed out of the sewing room, flailing Lance's pants over his head and shouting, "I am seventy eight percent certain that in this reality if you do not put these pants on within the next two minutes I will definitely not win this challenge!"

Lance rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment, knowing he shouldn't vent his irritation at Sven on Slav. Instead he pulled the pants on, stepped into his boots, and let Slav zip him into his top.

When Tim returned to escort them to the runway, everyone was ready except for one designer frantically snipping at loose threads. Three cameramen swarmed her like flies until she managed to leave the workroom, and Lance was glad his designer had manage to finish on time. He wouldn't look very impressive representing Voltron in a half-finished garment.

The models and designers were separated backstage and a few minutes later the director called action. Heidi Klum, one of the permanent judges and the host of the show, stepped out to greet the designers and introduce Allura, giving a pre-rehearsed spiel about how Voltron was in stores now before she moved on to reminding the audience what the challenge had been.

Finally she called for the fashion show to begin, and then the models started moving down the runway. Lance happened to go near the beginning and Keith towards the end, so they got to watch each other walk but they didn't stand near each other in line.

The moment Lance stepped out on stage he heard sharp intakes of breath from the audience. He knew that was partially because of the outfit, but it was also because of his impressive stage presence. His riding boots glinted in the bright lights of the runway, and Slav's open neckline and back were sleek, sensual, and almost teasingly scandalous. His shoulder blades were out and stunningly sharp, and his neckline plunged nearly to his navel, showing everyone his beautifully tan skin.

When he struck his pose, arms on his waist for the sharp angles Slav told him gave his clothes the best drama and impact suitable for this reality, he couldn't resist throwing a little smirk to the camera. He looked good in these clothes and he knew it.

As he headed back up the runway he threw a wink to Zac Posen, the only male judge and the fashion director for Brooks Brothers Women. Nina Garcia, fashion editor for Marie Claire magazine, nudged him and laughed while Allura gave Lance a stern glare.

Keith, watching from the wings, ignored the twinge in his chest when Lance flirted with Zac. It was just what Lance did, he tried to remind himself. It didn't mean anything.

When Lance came behind the screen and headed for the waiting area, he threw Keith a grin and a thumbs up. Keith was trying his hardest not to psych himself out like he'd done in the first days of the challenge. True, this was his first runway and it would be aired on national TV, but after hearing the way the models had talked about him in the workroom this morning, Keith felt like he was just as qualified as any other model here. When the assistant queueing the models gestured at Keith, he was able to step on the runway channeling every bit of the fierce, dark energy Sven had asked from him.

As he walked his heavy work boots made solid clunks on the runway, the loose laces slapping around his exposed calves. Sven's loose joggers had been pushed up to capri length, but the stiffness of the burlap made the folds of the fabric harsh and defined, something that was even further defined by the militaristic detailing on his sleeveless hoodie.

The oversized hood went from nearly shoulder to shoulder and moved with Keith as he walked. He liked the way he peered out from under it; he felt like it let him bring that extra bit of edge to the outfit. The pose he struck at the end of the runway was one that Sven had coached him into doing where he turned to the side, jerked his chin up at the audience, and then grabbed his hood and gave it a brief tug.

He made his way back up the runway not giving a look to the judges- he didn't know any of them anyway- but instead giving a quick look to Sven to see how he felt about Keith's walk. The proud smile he saw made Keith smile in return, and when he came off the runway to see Lance waiting for him he couldn't help but smile even brighter. He'd been very reluctant to come on the show, but now that it had happened he was glad he'd done it.

Sven and Slav both made it into the top, as well as another designer who'd done a smoking jacket and shorts in charcoal. When Keith and Lance made their way on stage, Heidi went out of her way to greet them and congratulate them on Voltron. Lance thanked her with such grace and poise that Keith would never have been able to guess that he'd been squealing about meeting her just that morning. Keith was reminded again of the vast difference in their abilities, especially when he could only bring himself to nod at the assembled panel. The judges each took turns addressing the designers, and some of their remarks were very cutting.

"I'll be honest Sven," Zac Posen began, "I thought an actual potato sack might have been more flattering for your model."

Sven looked taken aback, and Keith felt the same way. He'd liked what Sven had designed for him.

"Your model has this beautiful body with these toned limbs and this gorgeous face, and you put him in a baggy drop crotch and this almost costumey hood?" He shook his head and sat back in his seat. "Not my favorite work from you."

Nina Garcia, the other long time judge for the show, spoke up in Sven's defense, "See, I think what you don't like, Zac, happens to be my favorite. The joggers are fresh, exciting and, most importantly, wearable-" Zac snorted, but Nina continued, "And the hood is editorial. I would put that on the cover of my magazine, especially with this model- what was your name- Keith? Especially with Keith wearing the clothes."

Heidi nodded and replied, "You know, I don't know how Allura managed to nab Lance, I've always wondered, but here I see she has Keith now too, and I realize that she really is filling her company with modelling talent."

Allura smirked and leaned forward to look at Heidi, "Is that your way of asking to model for my line?"

"If the clothes are all as well designed as Sven's," Heidi laughed, "Then yes!"

Keith felt vaguely amazed at the way the judges just talked over the designer's head and at the casual way they critiqued Sven's clothing. He was glad that Heidi and Nina liked it, and he felt a little offended on Sven's behalf at the bluntness of Zac's comments.

When it came time for Allura to comment she simply said, "These are exactly the kinds of clothes I would put Keith in. I think you have an eye for designs that are both high fashion and available for mass production. I like it."

Keith decided that while it wasn't the level of praise he would have given the outfit, it would do.

Unfortunately for Sven, the judges all loved Slav's look, as well as the other designer's.

Lance just got to stand there and smile while they praised Slav's clothing. He was happy for Slav, but the man was such an eccentric and it had been such a pain modelling for him Lance found himself apathetic.

As the three designers and their models left the runway Sven whispered to Keith that he knew he wouldn't win, it would be Slav or the other designer, but knowing that he'd made it into the top was enough for him.

While Keith and Sven were having a love fest, Lance was stuck walking backstage with Slav who just muttered under his breath about how the judging affected this reality. When the models departed from the designers Lance was honestly glad. It meant they got to take off their burlap concoctions and return to the hotel to sleep until their flight later that evening. He and Keith had the dressing area to themselves, as the losing models were out on stage now and the models with safe designers were already undressed and headed home. Lance had never really appreciated how much they edited down the critiquing for TV until he'd had to stand there and wait as the crew and director called for re-shots and he'd had to listen to each of the four judges and three designers give their full response.

As they were undressing Keith murmured, "I hope Sven does end up winning. He worked really hard on his design, he deserves it."

Lance didn't mean for the note of bitterness to enter his voice when he replied, "Well, I think every model worked really hard Keith, but there can only be one winner."

Keith looked up at Lance who was still undressing, "I- I know that I just mean. I like Sven."

Lance rolled his eyes, "Oh, trust me, I know you like Sven. I got that vibe loud and clear."

Keith frowned. Lance hadn't been this catty with him since their earliest meetings.

"Hey, McClain, what's going on?" He asked.

Lance gave a deep sigh and visibly gathered himself. He was letting his irritation with Slav, his envy of Sven and his jealousy over Keith all come together in a swirl of negativity- and at its center Keith's remarks from yesterday. But he didn't need to take it out on Keith, especially when the other model had done nothing wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Keith. It's me. Not you. You're fine. Peachy. Living the dream life with your hard edge, chic designer you're falling all over."

"Falling all over?" Keith wrinkled his nose. "Are you trying to say I'm- interested in Sven? Is that what you're getting at?"

Lance leaned back against one of the vanity counters and took a makeup wipe to his face. "Is that not what's happening? You blush when he flirts with you, you call me a 'co-worker' even though in the past you've fucking-" Lance cut himself off. He didn't want to do this right now, he'd only end up saying something he didn't mean and really regretting it later.

"I just thought we were closer than we apparently are." He grimaced and looked away. "I'm just being bitchy. Give me a few hours and I'll be fine- and for god's sake, Keith, put a shirt on."

Keith stood there, shirt off and pants half-undone, feeling utterly out of his depth once again. His relationship with Lance seemed to do that to him a lot. He thought through everything Lance had said, trying to decide how to answer.

He felt like if yesterday's encounter with Sven had been a test, he'd failed, and this was his only chance at a makeup.

"Well I- I'm not," he began, hesitantly, just waiting for Lance to cut him off, "Interested in Sven, that is. He's just a friend. Not even that really. An acquaintance. A cool guy. And um. You're not being bitchy- you're, you're upset, so I should apologize for that. I hurt you and I- uh, I don't know what to do to fix that but I do feel bad about it. I didn't know you felt that way." Keith winced, "I'm really bad at picking up on stuff like that. Sorry."

Lance nodded, jerkily, and willed away the shine in his eyes. "I- I knew in my head you probably weren't interested in him. I just- I over think things. And when you didn't call us friends yesterday, it hurt more than I was expecting."

"Are we friends though?" Keith asked, voice weak and tentative, "I didn't think we were friends."

The confusion in Keith's voice lifted the heavy weight off Lance's chest. Keith really had just been that much of a socially inept doofus. Lance didn't know whether he wanted to hug him or punch him.

"You asshole!" Lance laughed thickly, "Of course we're friends. You fucking fought my ex for me, you're in the top tier friend group now."

Keith was stunned. He wasn't just Lance's friend, he was one of Lance's best friends?

It felt like sunlight was blooming in his chest, like someone had put a hundred helium balloons in his stomach and set him free in the sky. Keith couldn't help the smile that broke over his face. Lance, seeing the earnest joy on Keith's face, couldn't help but smile back.

"Honestly, you're an idiot," Lance softly chided him, "You didn't think we were friends? And what was with that 'friends with benefits' stunt? Jesus, man, I was sure Allura was going to kill us and use us as highly fashionable mannequins in her flagship store."

Keith tilted his head to the side, taking the makeup wipe Lance offered him and starting to wipe off his own face while the other model moved to get dressed in his street clothes again. "Well, I thought that's what we were. After that Taco Bell conversation and the kiss in the elevator-"

Lance cut him off with a hand over Keith's mouth, face bright red.

"Don't just talk about it like it's-it's normal! We're rivals, Keith! Or friends! Bros! You make it sound like we're dating!"

The seconds that followed after Lance's exclamation were heavy with unspoken potential.

Lance tried to brush over the heavy atmosphere by continuing, "I suppose, technically, to say we're friends with benefits wouldn't be wrong, but I would much prefer to just call it- bros who acknowledge each other's hotness or something."

The idea of being friends with benefits sounded scandalous to Lance, like something filled with passion and danger. And while there would certainly be danger involved- if it broke to the presses the wrong way Allura would be mad- but there wouldn't be any passion. Not the kind Lance wanted. He'd want emotional passion, not just sexual. He remembered telling himself he was only interested in Keith sexually, and that everything else was platonic, but now he was admitting to crushing on Keith, and platonically sleeping with the object of your affections was a surefire recipe to cause emotional heartache.

Which was why, of course, when Keith gestured at his mouth for Lance to remove his hand, Lance did, but only by following through on the terrible, wonderful idea replace it with his mouth. He knew this couldn't end well, but that didn't mean he didn't want to kiss him.

He could feel Keith's gasp of surprise ghost over his lips, and he took the opportunity to lick his way into Keith's mouth. For a few seconds they both stayed there, the soft sounds of Lance's tongue in Keith's mouth the only sound that could be heard in the dressing room.

Lance pulled away, breathing heavy and audible in the quiet of the room. Keith was looking at him with pink cheeks and wide eyes, and Lance had to resist the urge to dive back in for another quick kiss.

Lance grinned, seeing that he'd effectively made Keith forget whatever he'd been about to say. He leaned in, Keith watching him with an enraptured fascination, only to boop Keith on the nose and then flounce away to finish putting his shirt on.

If that was what Keith looked like after a kiss, Lance couldn't wait to see what he looked like after they really started getting into the benefits. There was a part of him that wondered if Keith would blush that sweetly if Lance brought him flowers, or told him how beautiful it was that Keith tried his hardest at everything he did, but Lance pushed those thoughts away. Keith didn't want those things from Lance. He probably didn't want them at all.

~~~

When Allura finally came back to the hotel room to find them, Keith and Lance had managed to get in no less than two fights, one of which had ended with Keith laying spread eagle on the bed, all of its pillows captive beneath his limbs, glaring at Lance who lay on the couch clutching Keith's jacket to his chest.

She didn't even say anything, just gave them each a hard stare that made it painfully clear that they would be cutting the attitude out right now.

Lance gave Keith one last look before throwing the mullet head's jacket back to him and asking Allura, "So who won?"

"Did you not hear? It was Hira." She replied airily, one hand on her hip, "Sven and Slav were both runner ups."

Keith groaned, wishing he had some way to let Sven know he was still proud of him, and Lance just chuckled. So neither of their designers had won. He wish he could say he was sorry, but if he never saw Sven or Slav again it would honestly be too soon.

"Which designer went home?" Lance asked, honestly a little curious.

"The girl who tried to put her model in a kilt. While we all applauded her attempt, the shortcomings were... Ah... something we couldn't look past."

Lance snorted, "Literal shortcomings. It was really just a mini skirt in burlap."

Keith threw a pillow at Lance, "That was an awful joke."

Allura clicked her tongue and moved to grab her suitcase, "Be kind, Lance, she cried when we told her she'd lost." She looked at the other two models, who still hadn't moved. "Come on then," she said, "We have a plane to catch. I have things to do tomorrow."

Together the three of them packed up very quickly, and Keith went to sleep that night in his own bed, fingers tracing over his lips and wondering if he could still feel Lance on them.

~~~

The next morning Allura came into Altea bright and early as usual, only to find the secretary who worked the front desk tearfully greeting her and asking why on earth Allura had let this happen.

When Allura inquired what exactly 'this' was, the secretary gestured to the seating area in the center of the lobby that wasn't visible from the front desk. Allura moved to look and nearly had a conniption when she saw a certain cow standing on the plush white shag carpet of Altea's lobby.

Fifteen minutes later saw Allura standing in a glass-walled conference room watching Kaltenecker like she might cut loose and wreak havoc at any moment. Allura was going to kill Lance, she didn't care if he made her more money than her next three top models combined, that boy had shipped a cow to her goddamned lobby.

"Hey Allura," Lance slurred, his voice still thick with sleep, "Why are you calling so early in the morning?"

"Hello Lance," Allura replied, the ice in her voice making Lance sit up straight in bed and automatically begin to think through his schedule for the day and try to figure out what appointment he'd forgotten.

"I'm calling you so early because we have a curious happening here at Altea that I do believe only you could be responsible for."

Well now Lance had no idea what was happening.

"Do you remember a certain bovine companion of yours you became acquainted with on the farm?"

Oh. Now Lance knew what she was talking about.

"Kaltenecker's already there? But they weren't supposed to deliver her until the end of this week! I'm so sorry Allura, I had plans to talk to you about it today and make sure you were okay with it so it wasn't a surprise-"

"You were going to tell me I was getting a cow shipped to my office a few days before it happened, and you thought that was going to be totally fine?" Allura wasn't just going to kill Lance, she was going to empty out every single one of his skin care products in front of him before she killed him.

"I-yeah. Should I not have?" Lance paused. "Oh come on Allura, Kaltenecker's a good girl, she'll be the best office cow you've ever had, and cows are neat, I figured we could just put her up in an unused office and take her out for walks-"

Allura cut in, "An office cow? Lance, you've had some crazy ideas, but this is by far the most absurd. I'm not accepting this. You have to send this cow back to the farm. I don't know how you thought this would work out, but it won't."

"No, don't send her back to the farm! Allura, please, I don't have enough room for her to live in my apartment, but I've never wanted another pet like I want Kaltenecker."

She was seething, but she was also sensing a bargaining chip.

"All right Lance. You'll owe me, big time. I mean one, unconditional, you'll-do-whatever-I-say favor, but I'll let you keep the cow at my family's country estate. Will that be acceptable?"

There was absolutely no hesitation in Lance's voice when he replied, "Allura, you beautiful babe, that would work perfectly, how do you always manage these things?"

She hung up in lieu of replying and couldn't help smiling to herself. While Lance had probably wanted to house the cow in her country house from the get-go and thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission, it wasn't often she got to have unconditional leverage over Lance McClain. She'd be sure to use her favor very wisely.

Chapter 24: Super Risky High Cut Thong in Cranberry Velour

Chapter Text

After Project Runway, Keith had two weeks of absolutely no modelling. He got to focus on his classes at the studio, spend some time dancing for himself, and coach the studio's youth hip hop team for their upcoming competition.

But then Allura called with his next gig, and Keith was suddenly glad he'd been recently spending so much time in the studio. Allura had been approached with an offer for Keith to feature in a music video as a dancer with a minor acting role. When she told Keith how the job offer had come to her, Keith realized he'd underestimated the importance of making good impressions and gaining connections within the industry.

Kimberly, the woman who'd been the fashion director of the Moe Lolita Dream Fashions shoot Keith had done, had been the one to call Allura. She was now spearheading the styling for a music video, much like she'd done for the photo shoot. Keith hadn't been aware that Kimberly had been such an influential figure, but apparently she was well known in the creative fashion industry. The music artist involved, Florona, was taking Kimberly's advice very seriously- even when that advice extended to casting. The two had discussed the storyline and when Kimberly heard what exactly the role of the dancer would be, she'd immediately thought of Keith.

If he accepted the job, Allura and Kim would negotiate a deal so that Voltron fashions could sponsor the video and have Keith wear the line's merchandise and officially feature in the video as a paladin. Allura then explained exactly what the music video would involve- pole dancing, some interpretive hip hop, and a short acting interlude. Florona's vocals would be laid over their acting, so Keith would only have to use his facial expressions and body language- skills he already had from dancing.

The more Allura told him about the shoot, the more conflicted Keith was. On the one hand, he had been a dancer for years before he ever thought of being a model. The chance to dance professionally was something he didn't want to pass up. He was honestly more excited at the chance to dance in this creative project than to model as a paladin. On the other hand, the storyline of the music video was kind of dark and Keith didn't really harmonize with his part of the story. Even if Allura tried to paint the acting as no different from dancing and gloss over the troubled, dark character Keith was supposed to be, those were still the two things he focused in on. He had never taken an acting class; he'd be even more out of depth with the acting than he had been with the runway walk. And the end his character got was far from a happy one. He felt like with his lack of experience he'd never be able to pull off the performance asked of him, and he really didn't want to try.

But then again, when did Keith ever want to do a gig Allura had presented him?

Keith was really glad that he had plans for dinner with Shiro later that week so he could talk about whether or not to accept the job. He stopped in at a Build Your Own Brownie Bar on his way over to Shiro's to pick up a dessert for his brother and Matt. That was one social convention Shiro had very successfully drilled into Keith's head. When you went over to people's houses, especially for specific reasons like dinner, you brought a gift.

Keith got a half dozen peanut butter cookie dough brownies- he could barely stomach them because they were so rich, but Matt loved them and Shiro separated the cookie dough from the brownie before eating both, so Keith kept buying them. As the girl behind the counter boxed up his order, Keith thought to himself that he'd been coming to Shiro for advice a lot more often since he started this modelling job. He hoped he didn't mind. Keith figured it was probably better than all the times he'd done things without asking Shiro back when they'd been growing up.

Tonight, Shiro was making a dinner from his and Keith's shared childhood, fried chicken with cornbread and green beans. There wasn't much growing up in Texas had given them that had stuck, especially with Shiro's Japanese parents giving them such a culturally singular experience, but this particular meal had. Shiro had gone to the trouble to make almost everything from scratch, and Matt had actually helped Shiro cook by setting the table and getting ice water. That was the extent of help Shiro let Matt provide.

When the doorbell rang Shiro had just pulled the chicken out of the skillet and was pulling off his oven mitts and apron while Matt got the door. Keith handed off his box of baked goods to Matt and then went straight to Shiro for a hug. Shiro was surprised at the fact that Keith was initiating affection, but he wasn't going to question it. Moments like this where Keith did something he would've never done when he first came into Shiro's life all those years ago made Shiro so proud of how far his baby brother had come.

"Hey there, buddy," Shiro chuckled, ruffling Keith's hair, "Were you really that excited about dinner tonight?"

Unfazed by his brother's gentle teasing, Keith muttered a soft, "Yeah," into Shiro's shirt.

Over Keith's head, Shiro shot Matt a puzzled look, who merely gave a small shrug in return.

When another few seconds went by with Keith just soaking in Shiro's steady calm, Shiro spoke up again, "Seriously, what's up Keith?"

Keith gave a soft exhalation of breath and stepped away from Shiro, looking much more centered, "Allura offered me a new job, but it's- I want to do it but at the same time I don't."

Shiro frowned, "You shouldn't doubt yourself, Keith, you've got amazing abilities."

"No, no." Keith shook his head, "I know I can do it, but I don't know if I- there are parts of the job I don't want to do. That I-" he cut himself off, frustrated. "Let me just tell you the whole story, then you'll see what I mean."

Shiro nodded and gestured Keith through to the dining room. "Come sit down and you can tell me all about it over dinner."

Once the brownies had been safely stowed away on the kitchen counter and everyone was served, Keith started explaining the situation to Shiro.

"So Allura got a call about me featuring in a music video for this pop artist called Florona," Keith began. "This song they're shooting is called Safe and Warm, and it's about this girl who is- she's hard to love. Or like, has a hard time loving."

Shiro began to wonder if he shouldn't put on a pot of tea and have this conversation with Keith settled on the couch and wrapped in a throw blanket.

"I don't remember exactly how Allura put it," Keith said, staring down at his plate, "But that was basically it."

Matt nodded, enraptured, and Shiro gestured for Keith to continue, watching him closely to make sure his younger brother was all right. "I'm supposed to play the part of the love interest in the story. Florona sees me pole dancing in a shady club and she's like- super into me. I'm supposed to be hesitant at first but then I fall hard."

Shiro took a cautious bite of his food, focusing more on Keith's body language than the way dinner tasted in his mouth.

"But then," Keith stopped for a drink of water, "She leaves me, because she doesn't want to hurt me and she's getting in too deep, and because she doesn't want me to hurt her." He crossed his arms and mumbled, "Because she's scared of commitment and loving too deeply and getting hurt or left behind or something."

"Keith..." Shiro murmured, not liking how little passion and interest his brother was showing for this potential project.

"Let me finish, Shiro. There's this break in the music where's it's just an instrumental and her vocals, and Allura said that there's going to be extended cuts of me crying and being hurt at her leaving, and her crying and being hurt over leaving me-" he huffed and then continued, "Then it ends with me back on the pole and looking even more guarded than the beginning of the video."

Shiro took a moment to think, and then he said, "That's a pretty dark storyline for someone who's never acted- and you usually don't seek out darker stories even for your own creative endeavors."

Matt stood, sensing this was a conversation for just Keith and Shiro. When he'd met Shiro, Keith had already been with the Shiroganes but even now, years later, Matt still didn't have a bond with Keith like Shiro did. He'd also never gotten the full story on how Keith had come to be with the Shiroganes in the first place. He'd asked Shiro once, and Shiro had given him a very serious look and said, "That's something for Keith to tell you. That's his story and I don't think he'd appreciate me sharing."

Keith had never opened up to Matt about his background, and Matt had never felt the need to seek it out, just like he didn't feel the need now to seek out whatever was the root of Keith's reserved attitude towards this chance to debut as a dancer and actor.

Shiro caught Matt's eye as he left, and Matt saw the nearly imperceptible thank you there.

With Shiro and Keith alone, Shiro spoke up again. "Still, you've gotta be excited at the chance to dance in a music video- that's why you didn't turn Allura down point blank, right?"

Keith nodded, looking frustrated. "It's been one of my long term goals to dance for something like this. A year ago I would've never dreamed I'd get this opportunity."

"But?" Shiro asked gently.

"But..." Shiro was almost sure Keith was going to clam up and not say anything, but then his little brother made him proud once again by actually introspecting and finding some of the reasons behind his feelings. "I don't want to spend two whole days thinking about how I'm hard to love and how anyone who loves me just ends up leaving. That's not like anything I like to bring to my dance. That's not anything I like about me."

Keith looked as prickly and uncomfortable as a cat in a water park, while Shiro wanted to climb on top of the table and scream, laugh and cry all at once. His little brother- Keith, Keith I-didn't-know-I-was-gay-until-you-told-me-I-was Kogane, was talking about his feelings!

"Keith," Shiro murmured, trying to contain his excitement at this potentially earthshaking scientific breakthrough for mankind, "You know that's not true. You have me and Matt, and everyone at the dance studio, and now everyone at Altea. Hunk and Pidge and Lance. They didn't find you hard to love at all. They love you wholeheartedly."

"I know that in my head but..." Keith's chin was tucked into his chest and his hands were tucked into his ribs, showing how little he wanted to let any of this out. Keith's method of coping was to shove something so deep down he wasn't even aware of it. Lord only knew what having to think about all of this for the entire length of a video shoot would do to his poor little psyche. Shiro almost felt sorry for him.

"I know buddy," Shiro replied. "But the character you're becoming for the music video- it's not the truth. It's never been the truth."

He paused for a moment, giving his brother a moment to think before he continued, "Dancing in a music video has been one of your dreams. That fear that the people you love will leave- that's what the people at the shoot want you to show. They want you to bring that vulnerability to the surface, and then guard it with all you've got. You know it's a senseless fear, but it's one you've got experience with nonetheless. The fact that you know how to play out that story is going to make you able to bring something to this performance that no one else will. Use your past and where you've come from to help you in achieving this dream here and make you into who you want to be"

Keith gave a wry grin. "Or, I could accept the job, show up and shake my hips, and when we get to the hard part ask for some tear drops."

"I don't know if the director would go for that," Shiro chuckled. "But I think the fact that any part of you at all wants to get this job means that you're ready to try. I think you should do it- accept the job that is."

Keith took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "You make a lot of good points, Shiro. Let me just- have some time to think on it?"

While Keith put on a pot of tea and thought things over, Shiro found Matt in their bedroom and kissed him senseless as thanks for giving Keith room. When Matt asked if Keith was okay, Shiro whispered back that he shouldn't worry and then asked if Matt want to eat brownies and watch Mythbusters reruns with Keith.

Matt, sensing the real underlying request from Shiro to help take care of Keith while he thought over his latest job offer, replied that he would love to, and the night ended with them all swaddled on the couch swapping bits of cookie dough.

~~~

A few days later Keith was sitting in Allura's office looking over outfit ideas for the music video that combined Kim's vision and pieces from Voltron's line and telling Allura whether or not he'd be able to dance in them.

"This sweatshirt will be fine to dance in," he said, pointing at a crop top with Voltron's logo on the front. "This sports bra I can wear for the stripping scene if you want. I don't really want to try to wear the leggings for that, though. I know the mesh along the sides makes them look sexy but it'll be really hard to grip the pole."

Allura nodded and shuffled some of the pictures around on the desk, making notes in her lookbook. "I'll let Kimberly know that, I think the leggings were our back up choice anyway, she has a pair of shorts she wants you to wear," she pulled another picture out from the stack and laid it before Keith, "These ones, layered with fishnets?"

Keith snorted, "She had me wear that at the Moe Lolita shoot too. She must really go for that look, huh?"

Allura smiled at Keith as she continued rearranging things, "I think it's more that such aesthetics are very much in vogue right now and Kimberly owes much of her success as a fashion director and stylist to being able to stay abreast of the trends."

"Now," Allura began, putting aside the last of the photos and directing her full attention to Keith, "You'll be on set the day after tomorrow, and you're scheduled to be there for both days of filming. They don't know when exactly they'll manage to get to the scenes you're in, so even though you'll have perhaps only two minutes of screen time total, you'll have to be there for all of it."

She passed Keith the rough schedule for shooting Kim had forwarded to her. "I do know that they're going to attempt to shoot it from roughly beginning to end, so your shots in the club will be one of the first things on the agenda. They elected not to hire a choreographer after you accepted since you have so much experience and they're not looking for extensive cuts of your dancing. Do you have any questions?"

Keith thought about it. He was tempted to make a tongue in cheek comment like could he do the dancing and let someone else do the acting, but he knew Allura wouldn't appreciate such a comment, and that to complain about the job after he'd already accepted it was just unprofessional. So instead, he just shook his head and stood up, shrugging into his motorcycle jacket and telling Allura, "Be prepared to hear great things from Kimberly."

He was hoping that would be true.

~~~

One thing Keith hadn't thought about was that here at the video shoot, he wouldn't be the center of attention. Not that Keith was a diva and wanted all eyes on him, but he was used to having a lot of people telling him where he needed to go, what he needed to do, and generally having lots of helping hands around to guide him.

At this music video though, he was just another stage presence and the only person he knew on the shoot, Kimberly, was so busy wrangling the models and extras into their outfits that she didn't have any time for Keith.

He'd had to get there relatively early so he could be sitting pretty ready to shoot as soon as the director called for him. Hair and makeup had given him a smokey cat eye and dark lips, much more drama than Keith was used to. His outfit was the Voltron brand sports bra in a dark cranberry layered under the cropped sweatshirt and the shorts and fishnets combo Kimberly had selected for him. One stylist had dolled him up in several thick gold chains and bracelets, and when Kimberly had discovered his ears were pierced she'd immediately called for some gold hoops. She'd also, after he was entirely dressed, had decided to add in a high cut thong whose band could clearly be seen, cutting out his hip bones and peeking through the mesh of the fishnets.

Keith thought he looked good, though the look was a far cry from the masculine persona he usually adapted. There was a vague part of him that worried they might not find his moves on the pole feminine enough for the video's taste, and he'd spent most of the past hour sitting in his chair off to the side hoping no one tried to talk to him and trying not to worry.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, a headsetted assistant turned from the camera station and yelled out to the studio at large, "All right people, we're ready to start staging and checking camera angles for the club scene. We need the dancer, Keith, and the club extras on set please!"

Keith tried to quell the rush of nerves that rose up in him at the announcement. This was it, he supposed.

Chapter 25: Ripped Fishnets and Halter Top Bralette in Steamy Magenta

Chapter Text

Well, Keith thought the call to set had been it. When the assistant had called for everyone to get in their places, he thought the cameras would start rolling and they'd immediately get into shooting his scenes.

That didn't happen. Instead, Keith was now waiting beside what he was coming to think of as his pole, feeling somewhat ridiculous in his dolled up, haute-couture outfit while camera hands and lighting techies in jeans and t shirts ran around acting like he was another piece of the set.

Who knew that with all the extras in place and Keith on the pole where he needed to be, they had to undergo another round of camera and lighting checks.

To distract himself while he waited, Keith began doing some simple stretches to warm up his muscles. Once he felt sufficiently limber, he began twirling and twisting around the pole in some easy moves that let him get into the swing of things. When none of the set crew chastised him or asked him to stand still, Keith moved into some simple lifts and began climbing his way up and down the pole. He'd never tried to work a pole in a top this baggy, and he found himself having to rely more on his thighs and less on his arms simply because he couldn't get the grip he needed out of the soft cotton sleeves.

He was really beginning to get a feel for things, sashaying in a slow circle around the pole with one hand holding it and the other hooked in the belt loop of his shorts when a breathy, feminine voice said, "Oh god, Kim knew what she was doing when she suggested him, he's pretty- just like I imagined for this shoot."

Startled, Keith dropped his grip on the pole and turned around, eyes wide.

In front of him stood a girl with hair somewhere between pink and red, shaved on one side and crimped to hell and back. She looked like Keith as far as the number and size of gold chains she was wearing were concerned, but she wasn't wearing any Voltron merch. Instead, she was wearing a pair of stiff parachute pants the same pinky red as her hair and a bralette that wasn't much more than some lace and a halter top. Keith thought she looked like some kind of gang member or hooker, but he guessed it must be working for her if that was what Kimberly had approved.

She spoke, glossy lips flashing in the studio lights, "Hey, you're Keith, the dancer-choreographer-model guy Kim suggested, right? I'm Florona, it's cool that you're here today."

Keith stepped down and extended a hand to her, "Yeah, I'm Keith. Thanks for letting me dance in your video- and go it myself instead of working with a choreographer."

She grinned at him and leaned into her hips, "Well I'm not one for dancing in these videos, I like to tell stories more, so I always feel a little guilty hiring choreographers when I don't really need them. It seems like a misuse of their time and mine, you know?

Keith thought to himself that she was more down-to-earth than he'd been expecting. "I get that, I'm used to coming up with the routines I dance so that's gonna be fine for me. I'm more worried about the storytelling part." He looked off to the side and curled an arm around himself. "I've never acted before."

She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't really call it acting. We'll just grind on each other and then fake yell and fake cry. You can do that, right?"

Keith nodded and wished her casual assurance would actually do something for his nerves.

Florona and Keith continued to chat until the director called, "All right everyone places! We're gonna start with some full-body shots of Keith. I wanna get one take all the way through so I can make sure Keith, Florona and I are on the same page, then we're gonna do some panning camera angles and finish off with close ups on his face. I want all the extras dancing, but our main focus right now is on Keith. Everyone got that?"

Florona nodded at Keith and said, "That's your cue."

"All right," The director began, "So we don't need a full routine from you, we just want your prettiest moves. We're not looking for anything fancy, just soft, dark and sensuous." Keith gave a nod and the director settled back into his chair.

He nodded to another assistant off to the side and Florona's song started playing through the studio's speakers. The extras on set started dancing while Keith put the pole between himself and the camera, wrapping both his hands around it and throwing his head back.

He swayed his hips in time to the beat, trying not to think of his moves in advance but instead flow with the dark beat Florona's song was giving him. He rolled his hips against the pole as he sank smoothly to the floor, and once there he dropped his head to look right into the camera. It was different, staring into the lens and a studio full of people instead of a bank of mirrors or a small group of fellow dancers, but Keith tried to forget all that and just focus on the song.

He found his mind wandering from the studio to Florona's lyrics, her description of how she was powerless to this enticing presence resonating with him as he rolled his hips and ran a hand down his throat. Keith couldn't ignore how what she was describing was eerily similar to how he'd felt when he'd first seen Lance. He wondered what that stupidly beautiful, incorrigible boy would think of Keith now, with him looking like someone who belonged beside Lance on all those steamy photoshoots. He wondered if Lance would be as entranced by him as he had by Lance. He wondered exactly what moves would make Lance crazy, what would drive him out of his mind.

With thoughts like that ringing through his mind, he closed his legs around the pole as he stood up, using his grip to twirl around so that he was now in profile to the camera. He threw the lens a sultry look and a quick 'come hither' shake of his head before he started rolling his hips again. This time he rolled his upper body with it too, and his hands snuck under his crop top to pull it off and leave him in only his sports bra. With that off he twirled around the pole again before sinking to the floor in a crouch, his knees up and the lower half of his face hidden behind the arm that was between him and the camera gripping the pole. He let himself stay there a few moments, arching his back but keeping his face nearly expressionless, and when his back uncurled he let his face drop into the crook of his arm again to look out at the camera with what he hooped was an appropriately guarded yet vulnerable expression.

The song's first chorus belted out into the studio for a few moments before someone turned it off. Immediately Florona squealed and began clapping her hands, "This is really happening! Keith, you're embodying the mood for this whole shoot and I love it. That was perfect!" She whipped her head to look at the director, jewelry jangling with the movement, "Wasn't it just perfect?"

The director rubbed his chin and looked at the screen playing back Keith's routine, "Yeah, that was pretty perfect. If you could give more of a contrast between when you speed up and slow down that would be great, and flash your ass at us at least once, that'll be a really impactful shot, but other than that, great."

Keith nodded, grateful for the constructive criticism. He felt in his element right now. Dancing was something he'd done long before he ever thought of Lance McClain, and he'd taken instruction like this from many a dancer and performer who wanted him to bring a vision or a story to life. He didn't think too much about what it meant that all the dancing he'd done today had been inspired by thoughts of Lance. He told himself that it was just because he was trying to channel the same amount of stage presence, or that he was trying to channel Lance's same irresistible seduction, not that he was actually dancing with Lance in mind. That would be stupid, it wasn't like Lance was going to see this, so why should Keith worry what Lance thought of his dancing?

They re-shot the scene with the same camera angles and then there was a brief pause while they debated what angles they wanted to get next. They finally decided on one camera man crouching beneath Keith's podium to get shots looking up, and one on a boom to focus on closeups of his chest and face. Keith was really beginning to zone out, just listening for the intro and the director's distant calls of instruction.

"Look at the left camera!"

"Close your eyes for me right there!"

"Keep your head back, keep your head back, keep your head back- now let it drop to your chest! Perfect!"

After what must have been at least a half a dozen takes, the director announced they would take a break while they set up to get shots of the nightclub as a whole. Keith welcomed the chance to sit down, and when Florona offered him a water bottle he took it gratefully.

"You look like you're really enjoying my song," she said.

"I suppose so," Keith shrugged. "It's just a really good to dance to- got a strong bass beat and a lot of different rhythms you can follow."

She grinned and flipped her hair, the movement making her earrings clatter, "Hey, I'll take that. You're dancing to it like it's your own personal anthem."

Keith avoided her comment and said instead, "I'm a professional, it's my job to make these songs look good."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but Keith took another large swig of water to prevent any further attempts at conversation.

When the next round of shooting started, it was just as easy for Keith. Now that he wasn't the center of attention, he really was able to just lose himself in the music and dance. The cameramen were running wild, trying to get as many different angles as possible within the little three walled set and within the crowd itself.

They broke for lunch, finally, and then it was time to film Florona's entrance. Keith couldn't believe they'd already been filming for so long, but he could believe he'd been dancing for that long, his legs were beginning to get a little tired from all the squats. Over a kale salad for Florona and a pita sandwich for Keith, the director explained the next scene. Keith honestly wasn't listening as intently as he should have been, because he'd never had pita before and when he'd asked what it was Florona had immediately announced he had to try it. He couldn't decide if he liked the texture or not, and so the pita had his attention in a way the director did not.

"We're going to film Keith's reaction to meeting Florona first. Keith, you're gonna want to go for a wide-eyed, startled look. Like you're caught off guard and you just can't look away." Keith made to answer but realized he had a mouthful of sandwich, so instead he just nodded.

"Florona, I want you to look immediately taken in. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen and you want him for your own, then and there."

She put down her plastic fork and twirled one of her necklaces, "I can definitely do that."

As Keith returned to his spot to resume shooting, he thought again of seeing Lance for the first time, wondering if Lance would ever look at Keith with the same wonder he'd inspired in Keith on that runway what now seemed like so long ago. If Lance would look at Keith the way Florona was right now. Like he was beautiful- like he was something worth having.

With thoughts like that swirling around in his head, he found it easy to act unsure as he worked the pole. Imagining Florona as Lance in all of his supermodel glory was probably crossing some kind of mental line, but it was more than enough to keep Keith feeling overexposed, bared in some kind of deeply personal way.

Keith wasn't thinking about the cameras as he slunk down to the ground, hands above him holding onto the pole as he watched Florona. The hunger in her eyes took Keith by surprise and his wide eyes and parted lips weren't an act.

He paused on the pole for a moment, caught helpless like when he'd seen Lance's utterly confident come-hither smirk on their first lingerie shoot together. He moved towards her like he would move towards Lance if he turned that look on him again, helpless to do anything except what Lance wanted of him. The coy, sensuous smile Keith gave her was a reflection of how he felt every time he saw Lance perform in front of a camera. He knew he was selling a sensual fantasy for the cameras, but he couldn't help but feel there was a little too much of his own feelings for this to be entirely a fantasy.

He was just sad that was all it could ever be, a fantasy. Lance only gave those kinds of looks to the cameras, and Keith, prickly, awkward, difficult Keith, had managed to catch Lance's attention because he was decently attractive. He should be glad Lance was even as interested in him as he was. Wanting Lance to watch him, be just as obsessed with Keith as he was with Lance, was the very worst kind of fantasy, the kind that would never be realized and would be ruined with a harsh jolt back to reality.

All these thoughts were running through his mind as Florona approached him. She stopped at the bottom of his podium and Keith couldn't help himself as he slunk forward on hands and knees to give her a slow, sensuous smile, a bitter tinge to it despite his best efforts because he knew this couldn't go anywhere good.

"Cut!"

Both of them blinked, coming back to themselves as the music cut off and their little bubble was burst.

"That was perfect, Keith, just the reaction we need. Florona, you ready for your take?"

She popped her jacket and flipped her hair, jewelry flashing in the light of the studio, "I was born ready, let's do this."

While Keith's thoughts swirled in the same dark circles reflected by Florona's lyrics over and over again, the set crew filmed Florona and Keith meeting, dancing against each other in the club with Florona's hands running up and down his sides and Keith's hands tangling in her hair.

He couldn't help but keep wondering what would Lance think of his movements and what would Lance's hands feel like instead of Florona's. In a foggy, backlit alley set Florona was ghosting along Keith's neck and rubbing against his body while Keith stared out at the cameras, dazed and overwhelmed. The vocals crooned about being scared to reach out, about having feelings too big to be safe, about not being able to ever love someone right, and the desperate shine in Keith's eyes was all too easy as he simply reflected on how those words applied to his own feelings about Lance and the uncomfortable in-between space the two were inhabiting, a place Keith had at first thought was more he'd ever get, but was now the last thing he wanted.

The last scene was in a huge, satiny bed with Keith sprawled out shirtless and asleep while Florona sang next to him. Keith had done so much dancing that he actually did find himself drifting, grateful for the chance to leave his thoughts behind for a few hours, even with the stop and start of her music in the speakers and the general chaos of the set making for chaotic surroundings.

She must have sung her entire song through fifteen different times before the director and camera crew were satisfied that they'd gotten what they needed, and when Keith finally stumbled into his apartment somewhere around midnight, he found himself humming her lyrics as he fell asleep, thoughts of Lance and not being enough, not having enough, swirling through his head.

Chapter 26: Keyhole Cutout Heart Red Lace Bralette

Chapter Text

The next morning dawned entirely too early with no remittance in the thoughts swirling through Keith's mind. He skipped breakfast in favor of a longer shower, and spent his extra fifteen minutes trying to talk sense to himself about not being affected by what was essentially a stupid game of make believe. Unfortunately, he'd never been very good at self-comforting, and when he showed up at set he hoped the haunted look in his eyes passed for being in character.

Today, Kimberly put Keith in a more effeminate bralette than the sports bra from yesterday, this one with a high neck and a keyhole cutout in the crimson lace. The shorts had been traded out for a pair of Voltron joggers that Keith wasn't even sure could be called that. They hugged his legs from his ankles to his knees, but then around the thighs they were very baggy. He asked Kimberly what sort of vibe this outfit was supposed to give off and all she said was, "Urban heartbreak. Now turn your cheek so I can apply this highlighter."

Keith thought that name was a little too pretentious- and maybe also a little too accurate.

The set today was a gray backdrop, backlit to make it murky, with some parts in deep shadow and others cast in sharp relief. Florona arrived wearing a bomber jacket around her elbows instead of over her shoulders and another pair of parachute pants that were in a clingy, sheer material. She and Keith both took their places and then the director settled into his chair, giving them a quick heads up on what was about to happen.

"Now, I'm fully expecting this interlude to take us two or three hours," he began, "This is the image we want viewers to be unable to forget, so give it everything you've got, all right? We're gonna start with Florona walking away and Keith crumbling to the ground, unable to keep it together. Ready?"

Florona gave a nod, and Keith wished he could crawl back into bed. At this point, he was feeling like Florona had looked into his brain and written his innermost thoughts over a looping bass beat and synth counter melodies. Lance was just so beautiful and Keith just had so many feelings and Florona was absolutely right, love was garbage and relationships were garbage and Keith was garbage too.

He didn't know if he'd actually be able to do this scene like they wanted. He sure as hell didn't want to, but he knew what not being loved felt like, and what being left felt like, and he could sure as hell imagine Lance doing it to him. That had to be enough to land him somewhat close to what they wanted.

After one last makeup check and finalized camera positions, someone set a fog machine spewing white smoke with several huge box fans blowing it over the set. Waiting a few moments for things to get appropriately murky, the director then called, "Action!"

Florona turned, gave him one longing look over her shoulder and walked away. Keith didn't see, too focused on the feelings welling up inside him- all the things he consciously avoided thinking about, the thoughts that always hovered in the back of his mind but that he shoved back as far as they would go.

A small house out in the middle of nowhere, a heavy hand on his head and the soft smell of laundry and soap. Opening the door to that big, dusty barn to find it empty, running out to the road and looking in both directions like he expected to see them coming back at any moment. Middle school graduation, high school graduation, a move across the country, years later and still he'd never been found again. They'd left and never looked back even though there was a part of Keith that wished, every day, that they would.

Shiro, grabbing his hand and bringing him in for a bear hug, promising he'd never leave him and Keith throwing his arms up and yelling for him to get away. Shiro's steady, unchanging presence in the face of Keith's volatile grief and anger, always giving love and support no matter how undeserving of it Keith was.

Lance, face soft with sleep, whispering about how he'd been treated by the Galra, Lance giggling, Lance going in for a kiss. Lance looking at the camera like he was challenging the world to take him on. Lance, who'd been nearly broken but only rebuilt himself so unbelievably stronger. How could Keith compare to that? How could Keith expect Lance to stay while Keith learned to love? He wouldn't ask it of him. He couldn't.

Keith's face crumpled and his hands clenched at his chest, tangling in his bralette. He sank to the floor, head tilted back to look up at the cameras and eyebrows knotted. It was the same soft, well-worn hurt that fit over him like an old sweater, always there, ready to slip on whenever he stopped to think about it. Even though the pain was familiar, it still hurt, and involuntarily his lips parted in an inaudible cry.

"And cut!" The director moved from out behind the cameras and approached the set.

There was a rising wave of noise as people checked lighting and cameras, the director watching the footage back, and Keith was glad of the moment to himself so he could blink away his tears and shove his feelings back down, whispering to himself the comforting things Shiro told him over and over like a mantra.

The director looked up from the viewfinder of the closest camera, "Keith, that was perfect."

Florona, off to the side, said unthinkingly, "Jesus christ, kid, what kind of acting classes did you take?"

There was a tense moment of quiet in the otherwise loud hubbub of the studio as Keith's eyes widened, visibly caught off guard by the question.

His shoulders tensed and he crossed his arms, "Can we film the next take now?"

Florona took several takes, which was honestly a good thing for Keith because he spent that time sitting in a chair off to the side with his earbuds in, trying to forget everything that had just happened. He was good at not thinking about things. He was a pro at it. Shiro said he was emotionally constipated, but Keith just thought of it as compartmentalizing.

He didn't want to think about something so he didn't- why would he? Those memories were all the grossest parts of himself, all the things that reduced him to that small eight year old looking at the horizon and watching for people who never showed. That ungrateful twelve year old who threw love back in the face of those who tried to give it to him. He didn't want to be reminded of that part of himself, so he pushed those thoughts as far away from himself as possible. Simple as that. Or at least, it should be, but those fifteen seconds left him feeling like someone had scraped him raw on the inside.

A makeup assistant eventually found him and led him back to Kimberly who dressed him in a much more somber, edgier look similar to his first one, and after a few more takes of him on the pole but looking even more hurt and guarded than the beginning of the video (which wasn't hard) he was free to go.

He got home early enough that night that he could've eaten dinner if he'd wanted, but it took everything in Keith to merely take his clothes off before he curled under his comforter, and he didn't even want to think about eating.

~~~

A week and a half later, Allura was gushing over Keith's performance and there wasn't a single part of him able to enjoy the praise. The inside of his brain was a jumbled mess of Keith's new and old insecurities, worries about Lance and remembrances of his childhood mixing together to make Keith scrabble for emotional stability. Allura's words went in one ear and out the other. Keith could really use some positivity, but her compliments sloughed off him like water. He was only shaken out of his inner musings when Hunk, Lance and Pidge all wandered into the room.

"Hey, Keith, I didn't think you had anything booked for today," Lance said congenially.

"What," Pidge grinned, "You keep track of his schedule?"

Lance stuck out his tongue and made to respond but Hunk, always the peacekeeper, interjected, "Hello you two, I hope we're not interrupting anything?"

Allura shook her head and sat back in her chair, "You're not interrupting anything at all. I was just telling Keith about the glowing reviews everyone at the music video he was cast for has given him."

"Wait, really?" Lance asked skeptically. "This guy was asked to be in a music video? What, did they need a mannequin with a mullet?"

"No, Lance," Keith said, opening his mouth for the first time since the trio had entered. Trust Lance to drag Keith into the conversation, even if it was unwillingly, "They needed a love interest. I had to act." He said primly, clearly feeling this was a big accomplishment that would leave Lance blown out of the water. Hunk had to stifle a smile at how cute it was the way Keith looked proud of himself, and the way Lance looked like he couldn't decide whether to be happy for him or tease him.

In the end, Lance eschewed earnestness in favor of being a dick, and he crossed his arms and said, "I don't believe it. Until I see the tape, I don't think it happened."

Keith turned expectantly to Allura, who smiled uncertainly and said, "I really shouldn't show you, but Kimberly sent us an unfinished version of the music video along with her comments about Keith. If you all agree to keep quiet about this, I suppose we can have a preview party."

The darker haired model sat back in his chair, smirk on his face, while Lance blustered before throwing himself down in the other chair beside Keith and saying, "Well! Let's see it then."

Allura pulled it up and silently turned the monitor towards the four person audience while Hunk lowered the blinds and Pidge made sure the door was closed. When the office was quiet and dark Allura tapped the spacebar, slow bass beats and Florona's husky voice whispering in through the speakers.

It was interesting to Keith, seeing which parts of their shooting had made the final cut and which hadn't.

The movie opened with Florona singing on the floor of the club before it cut to Keith, hips rolling against the pole and eyes beseeching the camera for release. It cut back to Florona, then Keith, then their meeting. It showed them rubbing against each other in a backlit, smoky alley- Keith remembered the fog machine- Florona murmuring her lyrics against Keith's throat while he looked up at the sky with hazy eyes. No one but Keith knew he'd been thinking of Lance. He looked away from the monitor rapidly, hoping he wasn't blushing. When he looked back, Florona was singing on the bed, Keith curled up beside her. He hadn't realized how openly sensuous that scene was, but with his tousled hair and the lipstick smears hair and makeup had put on his throat, he looked thoroughly debauched.

Finally, after three verses and a chorus about her unhealthy relationships, the music video showed what everyone had been waiting to see. Florona walking away, her shoulders strong but her face broken, the sorrow on Keith's face making it nearly unrecognizable.

Keith had declined to see it played back to him on the monitors at the set, so he hadn't realized just how heartbroken he looked, but when his face crumpled Hunk gave a sharp intake of breath. When Florona's voice broke octaves with shuddering vibrato, Keith's body shuddered with in an echo of her heartbreak. It cut to her with her hands over her mouth, but while she looked sad, Keith looked absolutely destroyed.

Even as she sang about how this hurt her as much as it did him, their acting didn't quite show it that way. It cut back to Keith at the club, more closed off than ever, and Keith felt that could be a reflection of how he felt after shooting that video.

The movie ended and no one said anything, Allura mutely turning the monitor back towards her and Pidge reopening the blinds wordlessly.

Finally, Lance said, "Wow. I wanted to make a joke about how they cast you for a pretty face but that was too fuckin' good to joke about. Those Galra classes sure paid off. Also, someone should have warned me there would be pole dancing." He laughed, an attempt to lighten the mood in the room, "Dancing like that should come with a warning."

"Why," Keith teased tonelessly, "See something you like?" He hoped his smile reached his eyes. He really didn't want to talk about this right now, especially with the boy who'd been the inspiration for so many of those moves but also for so many of those faces.

Lance looked pretty taken aback at Keith's comment, so the dark haired model had no idea whether he'd pulled it off or not, but before he could continue, Allura jumped in, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, so if you three have something to tell me, you'd better talk while I walk to the conference room."

Hunk shook his head, "Nope, we were just coming into say hello. We can leave now." He started hustling Pidge and Lance towards the door.

Keith also stood up, "If she's leaving, I'm leaving. I don't have anything else to do here today."

"Oh. Okay then," Hunk smiled but didn't stop hustling Lance and Pidge.

The four of them headed out, Allura gathering her papers behind them, and when they reached the main hall the trio turned for the main offices while Keith made for the elevators.

As he watched him go, Lance said, "I didn't know he had it in him. You'd never know he wasn't a trained actor."

Hunk followed Lance's gaze with an inscrutable expression, "No, I really don't think there was any training in that."

Lance turned around, ready to defend his fellow model, but Hunk put up his hands to preemptively placate him, "I know he's talented. That was an amazing performance above and beyond anything I ever expected. I'm not saying I doubt that. I'm saying I'm not sure any of that was a response he was coached into giving. Hear me out guys, tell me I'm crazy."

Pidge and Lance slowed, the three of them now huddled up in a side corridor while they listened to Hunk express his concerns, "Think about it... the Galra wouldn't give acting classes to a model. What would he use it for? The Galra hate wasted effort more than anything, they wouldn't have done that with Keith. I don't think he would've taken acting classes."

Hunk turned to look at Lance, who was staring at him with wide eyes, "I think, and this is just speculation, I don't know- maybe Allura did throw him into some sort of crash course beforehand- but that emotion that played out... I think it was real. I don't think he would be able to fake it."

Lance frowned, "Allura wouldn't send him out there and get that sort of emotional payout back and not say anything, right? And we've never looked at Keith's resume, he could very well know how to act."

"Well," Hunk began, "Maybe she's said something, just not to us. I'll ask her later. Maybe it's nothing, maybe Keith can act and he's just so good I was taken in by it and thought that it wasn't. Maybe I'm seeing something where there's nothing."

Pidge, who'd been quiet and contemplative for much of Hunk's explanation, finally weighed in, "He didn't rise to Lance's bait once, except to flirt back, but even then he was totally unaffected by it. Normally when Lance comes on to him he reacts like a cat sprayed with water. He also didn't seem that excited at all to see the video, or our reactions. I'd say you have a right to be worried, Hunk."

She scrunched up her nose, "From what I've known of Keith, he seems like a pretty straight forward guy. The emotional intricacies of a scene that painful and raw seem like something that would go right over his head. If I had to guess how Keith would try to act out a scene of someone leaving him, what we got in that video would be pretty far down on the list. But if you were to ask me how an closed-off, passionate guy like Keith would actually react to being hurt in the worst possible way- then I might say something along the lines of that music video."

Lance, Pidge and Hunk all looked at each other, then down the hallway where Keith had disappeared. They were beginning to realize just how little they knew about him, but they knew enough that they should be worried.

Chapter 27: Nightmares and Sweet Dreams Teddy and Babydoll

Chapter Text

Lance lasted approximately two hours before he was running the music video through his head again.

To his credit, he'd stayed solely worried about Keith for about half an hour- but then he'd remembered the fishnets and he'd had a little bit of a daydream. Just a teensy bit of a reminisce. Lance had a thing for curves and seeing those stockings dig into the softness of Keith's thighs had done things to Lance that had made it very hard to appreciate all of the other gorgeous things that had happened in that music video. Of which there were many. The cut of that thong, the smokey eyes- there was a lot to appreciate.

Lance lasted an hour before he first thought about asking Allura when the official video would release- just out of curiosity. He wasn't dwelling on it, there were just a few key frames that had really caught his eye and he'd like to see again.

At the two hour mark Lance was standing at his balcony staring out over the city and attempting to burn every miniscule detail of that music video to memory. Lance's dignity and good sense were fighting a losing battle against the desire to text Allura.

It had been a really good video. When he'd heard Keith could pole dance, he didn't think it would be quite like that. Normally male pole dancers were all sharp moves and raw masculinity in a bid for married women to scream and throw their panties at them. Keith hadn't been any of that. He'd just gone boneless and rolled against that pole like he was born for it and Lance hated himself for thinking it but he wondered if that's how Keith rode dick.

Because if it was, Lance's life was going to get infinitely harder. Literally and figuratively.

Lance groaned and scrubbed his hands in his hair before heading inside. He scooped up his phone from where it rested on the couch and fired off a text to Allura. What was the worst that could happen, she said no?

After an absolutely humiliating exchange in which Allura teased Lance so thoroughly before sending him the video that he almost didn't want it anymore- almost- Lance got halfway through pulling the video up on his phone before he gave into temptation and got his laptop instead. The few second wait for the video to load felt like an eternity, and Lance found himself filled with the same sort of impish glee that came from acting out or misbehaving.

He told himself there was technically nothing wrong about what he was doing, but at the same time he knew he'd have to quit his job and move to another country the moment Allura decided to tell anybody he'd done this. If Keith ever found out, Lance would have to commit ritual suicide and tell Hunk to dump his ashes in the Atlantic where no one would ever bear witness to his shame.
Despite saying all that and knowing this was a bad idea just waiting to come back and haunt him, Lance clicked the play button as soon as it popped up. The first time, he watched it straight through, still having a hard time believing it was Keith. The second time, he paused it and took screenshots every time Keith changed outfits, sets, or even just struck a particularly... good pose. He very consciously avoided thinking too deeply about the ramifications of his actions. Now was not the time for Lance to question his moral integrity and his degree of patheticness, it was just his time to stare at Keith's toned stomach as he worked himself up a pole with just the strength in his thighs. God Lance was so gay.

The third time though, Lance found himself watching Keith's face, not his body. Hunk's words wormed their way to the forefront of Lance's mind, and with every haunted look Keith gave to the camera, Lance became more convinced there was something to Hunk's theory. At first, he'd skipped over Keith's acting in favor of staring at his outfit and the way the lacy bralette clung to him so appealingly, but now that the thought was in his head Lance could see it for himself.

Any feelings of mischievous ogling trickled out of Lance's mind as he pressed the replay button again. There was something there. He was sure of it.

~~~

Hunk really should have just let it go. If he was a self-involved person like everyone else, he would have, but no, Hunk was a worrier. He worried and he fretted and he knew he should just keep his nose out of other people's business but he couldn't help it.

The thing was, Keith's performance and standoffish behavior just wouldn't leave Hunk's head. He knew, logically, that Allura had done nothing wrong in allowing Keith to take that job, and that Keith was just sporting a furrowed brow and a sad pout for the camera, but it left him so worried it eventually ended up being his main train of thought two evening jogs in a row. That was when he called Shiro and asked to get brunch together, just to assuage his worries.

Hunk just wanted to hear that Keith was fine and dandy so he could move on with his life only thinking about when he'd next be able to make it down to that corner deli and see if they'd changed the dill to paprika ratio on their devilled eggs. Those were the sorts of things he wanted to be worried about. Fun things. Not- well, not worrying things.

And if something actually was wrong with Keith? Well, Hunk didn't let himself think about that, because he didn't have the faintest idea what he would do to help.

Shiro had been more than open to a brunch date- they were both millennials so of course they got brunch, for once Hunk was living out the stereotype, not Lance- and in a bright window booth over poached eggs and mimosas Hunk debated how to ask Shiro about his brother's emotional stability and mental health.

Thinking over the subject matter at hand again, Hunk wondered if he shouldn't have invited Shiro to coffee instead. Coffee sounded much more serious and suited to a heavy topic like family issues. Hunk was pretty sure that family issues fell into a group labelled 'conversation topics too heavy for brunch'. He was going to have to be very delicate in bringing this up.

"The amount of natural light in this place is amazing," Shiro said, completely oblivious to Hunk's internal conundrum. "They don't have any fluorescents on and it's almost noon."

"Oh yeah," Hunk nodded, cutting into his guava and quiche breakfast bagel sandwich, "That's one of the things that first drew me to this place, all the large windows. Here," he held out his fork to Shiro, "You have got to try this sandwich, the flavor profile is like nothing I've ever encountered."

Shiro chewed for a moment before nodding enthusiastically, "Wow, that's amazing."

Hunk grinned, "Yeah, it kinda is. I think I have a knack for finding these kinds of things. No biggie."

Shiro looked down at his own plate of bacon and waffles and said, "I wish I could offer you something in return, but I'm pretty sure you've tasted all this stuff before."

Hunk waved one hand and took a sip of his mimosa with the other, "That's fine, Shiro, I didn't invite you out for food today."

Shiro immediately perked up and Hunk winced, wondering if his wording had been too on the nose, "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Er, well- how to begin..." Hunk wondered aloud.

Shiro's face remained slack for a moment before he grimaced and said, "Oh no, what did Keith do?"

Hunk paused, taken aback at Shiro's wild leap in logic, but Shiro took his silence for confirmation and his face paled. "Listen, Keith's got a good heart, he's just not socialized very well, he went through a lot as a kid and he's still got a lot of that awkwardness, I'm not saying that's an excuse but I am saying that I'm sure whatever he did to Lance wasn't permanent and was spur of the moment and- why are you laughing?"

Hunk stifled his chuckles, "Well, Keith didn't do anything, first of all. Sorry to make you think something so serious." He paused to take another sip of his mimosa, "But I am wondering about Keith. And about- how he's doing. After that last gig. What with his first time acting being something so serious and everything."

"Well," Shiro rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, "He might have been a little out of sorts lately. Nothing concrete enough for me to really take notice of it, but. He's definitely been- a little out of it. I figured something had happened with Lance. Do you think it was his last job?"

Hunk hesitated, poking at the yolk of his egg, "I just know that actors get into pretty dark head spaces for gigs a lot, but there aren't always people on the other side to help them normalize again- like, no one sits down and talks through what they were feeling. It's kinda like kinky sex without after care."

Hunk looked up to see Shiro's eyes gone wide and his face pink from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. "Oh, sorry, was that weird for you? God I'm sorry that was probably so weird for you forget I said anything-"

"No no," Shiro interrupted. "I get what you're saying. And that is a rather apt- if risque metaphor. If I'm understanding you correctly, you're saying Keith might need someone to talk to after the shoot and that's why he's been so standoffish?"

"I'd say he needs to open up and talk about it- really talk about it." Hunk shrugged, "But that's my go-to first step for nearly every situation."

Shiro nodded, it being his turn to contemplate his food. "I don't think Keith will open up to me about this. For a lot of reasons. He's gotten a lot better at coming to me about stuff since he's got this job, but that just makes me think that if he was going to come to me he would have done it already. I think. Does that make sense?" He scrubbed his prosthetic hand through his hair. "I don't know."

Hunk nodded understandingly, "Do you think he'd open up to me?"

Shiro fiddled with a straw wrapper. "Honestly, it's anybody's guess. It'd depend on what day of the week you got him, how tired he was, what food he'd eaten most recently. Keith is finicky."

Hunk hummed. "Do you think maybe this is something he needs to work through for himself? I hate not being able to do anything but I recognize that there are some things people need to think through on their own."

"I don't think Keith could work through it on his own- he has the emotional sensibility of this salmon fillet- but I also don't think he has anyone in his life right now that he could open up to in that way."

Before Hunk could reply, the waitress dropped off their bill. On their way to the door, Shiro's phone chirped, announcing he'd gotten a text.

"It's from Keith," he said

~~~~

Three full days after Allura had shown the music video and after Lance had watched it approximately two hundred times, he got a call from one particularly savvy business woman with an offer he physically couldn't refuse.

"Why hello, Allura, I don't know what I've done to earn the pleasure of your voice but whatever it is I promise it wasn't my fault," Lance announced, falling back into his couch and hoping she wasn't calling because she was angry.

"Of course not Lance." The false cheer in her voice had Lance sitting up straight and immediately paying more attention. He was terrified- this was the voice Allura used when she was trying to get Lance to do something that he didn't want to do. This was the voice that meant it's-for-your-own-good-so-shut-up-and-do-it.

"What do you need, Allura?" he asked. Better to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a band aid, or accepting death by firing squad.

His boss's voice was steel when she answered, "I'm calling in that favor, Lance."

Lance couldn't help his childish groan. He knew that Allura would never forget a favor, but he was hoping she'd use it on something relatively normal. Allura's attitude right now meant that whatever this favor was, she knew Lance wouldn't like it.

"Why nooow, Allura? I just finished that big job for you in Quebec, can't I have some time for myseeelf?"

"Lance you are a fully grown adult in his twenties and considered a professional in his field. Do not whine at me."

"I wouldn't whine at you if you didn't do mean things to me," Lance snipped.

"Please just listen to me and try not to be dramatic for one moment. This is a job only you can do." There was a pause and then the faux charm in Allura's voice was intensified by ten and Lance felt a cold chill eviscerate his spine. "And you wouldn't want Kaltenecker to be evicted from her lovely country cottage stall, right? You haven't even had a chance to visit her, it would be awful if she had to go back to that New England slum passing for a farm."

Lance cursed under his breath and put aside his whining in favor of listening closely to Allura's instructions.

~~~

Lance's love for Kaltenecker was how he found himself standing at one of the many upscale hotels in downtown L.A., standing in front of one of Altea's company cars, holding a sign that said Akira, wondering why Allura was suddenly using her best model as a glorified valet. He waited patiently the first five minutes, then impatiently the next ten, and then he called Allura to complain.

When she answered she sounded depressingly cool and disinterested. "What is it, Lance, did something happen?"

"This Akira guy," Lance began, shoving one hand in his pocket and wedging his sign under his arm, "He's not coming. Or at least, I can't find him- I've been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes."

"Oh!" Allura responded lightly, "That would be because I changed his hotel accomodations. He's waiting for you by the Colonnade."

Lance's heart dropped. "What? That's forty five minutes on the other side of the city, Allura!"

"I pushed back the meeting time by twenty minutes, which should have given you plenty of time," Allura replied, entirely too blasé for the situation.

"I'll never be able to pick him up on time," he moaned.

As Lance hustled himself into the car and told the driver their new destination, he asked Allura, "How am I supposed to know the guy anyway? Can you tell me anything distinctive about him?"

"Oh, you won't need to worry about that. You'll spot him right away," She hummed thoughtfully, "One person in particular will give off an aura that he means no harm."

Then she laughed, leaving Lance blinking owlishly and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

"And one more thing, before I forget!" Allura continued, "He's very punctual and a little temperamental, so really do try not to be late. He's also more excitable than he looks, so don't be surprised if he's very- passionate."

Lance knew enough about PR to realize that she was saying this Akira guy was difficult, finicky and short-tempered, and he was more anxious than ever about being late.

"Good luck, Lance. I'll be in meetings all day today, so don't call me if you have any questions!" And with that, Allura hung up, leaving Lance to stare out the window and plan his funeral.

When the car pulled up to the Hilton, Lance was pretty sure there was only one person who could conceivably be the person Allura wanted him there to meet. But Lance wasn't entirely sure, because the lone figure sitting outside the hotel looked like the exact opposite of what Allura would usually work with.

The people walking past consciously steered clear of the guy and Lance could see some of the upscale people whispering to each other, likely wondering just how this kind of person ended up in front of such an affluent hotel without being moved by security.

Lance frowned, taking in the heavy duty black boots that looked like they could crush somebody's skull in and the long cowl-necked robe that was giving off some really heavy grim reaper vibes, especially with the hood up like it was and with the guy glaring out from under it at anyone who walked past, the nearly feral glint in his eyes barely visible through his fringe.

It looked like Lance McClain's nose job would be occuring much sooner than planned because this guy was going to smash his face in for being a half hour late, he just knew it. He gave one last despairing look around the plaza, seeing if there was anyone else who fit Allura's description and looked like they might be waiting for someone. Unfortunately, the hot topic model gone serial killer was the only one who could possibly be who Allura meant.

He steeled himself and started towards him, wondering if he should shield his face from a punch with those tendons showing in his forearms, or if he should instead curl up on the ground and protect his kidneys from a kick with those sculpted calves- those suspiciously familiar calves, and definitely familiar forearms. In fact, taking a second look, the hair was hiding a lot of the face, but that tilt to the chin was one Lance had seen before, when it was plastered all over L.A. as part of a certain jeans ad featuring a model whose body Lance knew better than he'd perhaps like to admit.

He called out, "Keith?" still doubting a little that this was indeed his dear friend and hopeless crush.

The figure turned his gaze on Lance, and the model got the unsettling feeling of being an insect pinned to a board. Or a human sacrifice bound to the altar. He took a step back, he couldn't help it, his eyes going wide. Ok, so maybe it wasn't Keith.

The guy stood up, looking like he was going to get right into Lance's face. The model let out a terrified squeak and fell flat on his ass. He saw the heavy boot in the air coming towards him and Lance squeezed his eyes shut, cursing Allura for sending him on this suicide mission.

But several seconds passed and all Lance felt was a cool breeze brush over his face. He opened his eyes only to see the shocked faces of some passersby, no scary guy in sight. So he hadn't stepped on him, only over him. Maybe it really was Keith after all?

Lance stood up, looking somewhat like a baby deer as he struggled to get his feet under himself. He wandered down the street towards the still waiting car, wrapping his arms around himself in a bid for comfort.

Lance thought to himself that even if that body had looked familiar, that couldn't have been Keith. Whoever that guy had been, he'd worn his murderous intent like a shield, impenetrable armor that didn't show a trace of his feelings, so unlike Keith who Lance had come to realize had his heart on his sleeve.

Lance was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the dark figure in the alley until their hand shot out, covered his mouth, and wrenched him back into the alley. Lance looked into the eyes of the scary guy from before like he was looking into the face of doom. When the guy's scowl only deepened Lance eeped and shook his violently to try to get loose.

When his hand came loose, Lance gave a gasp and then started blabbering, "I'm sorry dude, I didn't mean to offend! Please don't punch me, Allura won't pay for reconstructive surgery and I can't afford a good surgeon! I'm sorry I talked to you and mistook who you were and annoyed you and I'm sorry you're in a bad mood and that I'm taller than you and that Allura's a weird boss!"

Lance cut himself off when he realized the things he was now apologizing for might be digging himself a deeper hole. But the guy holding him was just guffawing, his whole body shaking with quiet chuckles. He ruffled Lance's hair, which was an action so unexpected that Lance froze.

Then, the guy, his warm voice reassuringly familiar to Lance, "Hey, don't worry. I'm not gonna punch you. Allura would never forgive me."

Lance grinned, turning to face this person who did indeed seem like he meant no harm. Leaning into him, Lance grinned, "Keith?"

The other model nodded shyly and tugged at his spiked collar. "Yeah. You like the look?"

"Uh, I'm sorry, what?" Lance squawked, flabbergasted.

"Hey, keep it down. I'm on a top secret mission here. You can't blow my cover."

The smile Keith gave Lance was so much more powerful because its tenderness was surrounded be ferocity that Lance felt like he might just go ahead and die anyway, because Keith was killing him with cuteness.

Chapter 28: Off the Shoulder Pink Sweater Perfection

Chapter Text

Two weeks before Allura called in her favor with Lance, she was on the phone with a promising television production looking to combine current trends with a compelling, addictive story line to produce next season's biggest hit TV show, and they wanted to get Voltron in on it.

Allura was flattered, but she couldn't say she was surprised. After all, Voltron was making a stir. Their billboards and products were everywhere; Voltron was well on its way to being on par with Pink or Nike, and the paladins were becoming just as popular. The producer had a supporting role open for a character that would last a few episodes, and the role would suit either Shiro or Keith, whichever paladin was more open to it.

She spent the next two weeks talking the offer over with her staff, considering whether TV acting was really an avenue they wanted the paladins pursuing, how this job could backfire on them, whether or not their models even had the acting talent necessary to complete such a job. To her knowledge, neither Shiro nor Keith had taken acting classes, and in the end she and her team decided it wasn't worth the effort of getting them acting skills when they weren't really considering using acting as a marketing ploy. Allura had made plans to call the producer back and turn him down the very same day she saw Keith's music video.

She was floored. When she'd taken Keith on, it was because he was the masculine end of the androgynous spectrum that she had Lance occupying, and she'd known that nothing motivated Lance like healthy competition. Her instinct had been absolutely right; Keith and Lance were sensational and groundbreaking together, and they both pushed each other to be their very best whether they realized that or not.

She hadn't taken Keith on because of his acting skills- she hadn't known he had them. She'd thought of him as a performer, yes, able to provide looks and poses for a photographer, but to see him giving this performance to a director made her see him in a whole new light.

Two days after she'd shown the video to the rest of the paladins and to her marketing and P.R. team, she'd decided to call Keith and offer him the job. When she called, he told her he'd have to talk it over with Shiro, which wasn't surprising. What was surprising was Shiro and Hunk showing up at her office not an hour later, both looking extremely worried.

"What has you two looking so upset?" She asked, standing from her desk and moving to greet them.

"We're a little worried about a certain black haired paladin," Hunk began.

"Keith texted me barely thirty minutes ago worrying about another acting job you've encouraged him to take on, but I don't know if these gigs are really the best thing for him" Shiro explained, "You're putting him under a lot of emotional duress he's never had to handle before. He's never been trained to do this kind of thing."

Allura paused and took in Shiro's words before saying, "I'm glad you've brought this to my attention."

"When I saw his performance I was sure that he had sufficient acting talent and that he'd simply neglected to say anything." She frowned, "Even now I find it hard to believe that his response wasn't coached." She looked up at Shiro, "Are you sure no one's taught him how to give that kind of performance?"

Shiro nodded, "Absolutely. I was worried for him going into the shoot, but no more worried than I've been for any other job, but now I have legitimate hesitations about letting him do that again."

Hunk chimed in, "It's just, if he's not doing all of this acting stuff right, it could get really unhealthy really quick. Shiro and I have both noticed that he's been quieter than usual this week, and we wondered if it might have something to do with the shoot. I think going forward, it wouldn't be a bad thing for Keith to have some sort of emotional support or outlet or something- maybe even an acting coach."

The trio collectively took in Hunk's words before he continued, "I'm not saying you have to take this job away, we're just saying we want to do it as safely and as healthily as possible."

"Oh, absolutely," Allura tapped her fingers on her desk, "I know I've already apologized once, but I'll apologize to you again, Shiro, I had no idea this had happened. Keith is already so shut off in his daily life I hadn't really recognized a difference." She paused for a moment, the wrinkle between her brows telling the others she was thinking, "Lance seems to be the only one who can bring him out of his shell and show us what Keith is feeling."

"You're telling me," Shiro grimaced.

"Unfortunately, now that Keith knows about the job I can't very well take it back with no explanation, not without some degree of dishonesty, which is not how I handle my models." Allura's twiddling fingers belied her concerns over the situation. "If I told him the truth, that I don't think he's emotionally trained to handle this role, he might turn around and very well insist that he accept it."

Hunk rubbed his chin, "Is it a dark role like his music video one was though? Because if it wasn't such a dark performance then maybe Keith could take acting lessons or get some counseling sessions while he's doing the role."

"Unfortunately, this role is just as dark if not more so. He's playing a troubled youth- the outcast of the story."

Shiro winced, "That's gonna hit pretty close to home for him."

Allura leaned back in her chair and gave a great sigh, "So what should we do? We can turn down the job and upset Keith, we can tell Keith that he can accept the job only if he also accepts help with his mental wellbeing and upset Keith, or we can let him take the job and continue to struggle to handle himself on his own. That would make Keith most upset of all." She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, "This is an awful dilemma, what have I gotten us into?"

"What if we sent someone with him to support him on the shoot?" Hunk suggested, "I think getting him counseling might be a little too drastic of a move, he's just having trouble getting out of a dark headspace, not reliving trauma over and over again, and I also don't think he'd accept it, but he might accept a companion with him on set. Someone to pull him out of his headspace so he doesn't stay locked in his own mind everyday. Especially if we didn't make it an option."

"That actually is a pretty great idea, Hunk," Shiro said. "Only problem is who do we send? I can't just take off from work for more than a day or two, and I'm guessing that if his character features in multiple episodes it won't just be a one day affair."

"Oh no," Allura shook her head, "I'm planning on putting him up in a hotel on location for a full week or two."

Shiro winced, "Yeah, I can't do that. Hunk, what do you think?"

"As much as I would like to say I'm the next best choice, I actually think there's a paladin better suited than me."

Allura gave a bright smile and tapped the side of her nose, "I think I know just who you're talking about. Stubborn enough that he won't let Keith sulk, sweet enough that he'll provide all the support Keith could need, and indebted to me for one favor of any kind."

She reached for her phone. It barely rang once before she was connected and she looked up to Hunk and Shiro with a gleam in her eye, "Of course not, Lance!"

There was a slight pause as she listened, and then she leaned back in her chair again, her free hand tapping away on the table. "I'm calling in that favor."

~~~

Then, after all that drama, she sent Lance to pick up Keith and her alone time at the gym was cut short by a Lance who'd realized Keith's identity and a Keith who didn't know what to do about it.

"Well, Keith, I'll admit I expected to see you back here, but I didn't think it would be quite this soon," she said, voice bouncing from her brisk jog on the treadmill. "Did you forget that I told you your identity was top secret until the end of filming?"

She took a swig of water before continuing, "How is the announcement that a Paladin of Voltron was secretly cast on the show supposed to stay a secret if you tell everyone you meet?"

Keith shrugged his hood farther down his face and glared out the window. With all the makeup and the new hairstyle, he didn't look sheepish, but instead like he was planning a murder.

Lance, watching from the side, was lowkey turned on and extremely embarrassed that he was lowkey turned on.

"What was I supposed to do?" Keith muttered, "He looked terrified when he saw me for the first time."

That was a note of sheepishness in Keith's voice that had Allura grinning. These two were good for each other. This was going to work perfectly.

"Well I did plan to explain everything to Lance sooner or later, so I suppose everything works out," She cut her eyes over to the taller model in question, "Lance, since I can't very well accompany Keith to set as his manager- since the poparazzi would jump on that quicker than Pidge on a software update- I want you to go in my place. We'll disguise you of course, much like Keith is."

"You want me to look like a mass murderer?" Lance asked.

Allura paused her treadmill, looking out at Lance from beneath the towel she ran across her forehead. "No, I think a softer look would do you good."

She stepped off the treadmill, "Let me call Kimberly."

~~~

When Lance entered the makeup room to see a sensible looking African American woman standing next to a row of what could have been outfits and could have just been bits of leather joined together with spikes, Lance was worried.

When Keith voluntarily accepted a hug from her, Lance rapidly swapped worry for intrigue. She must have been an angel for Keith to be so close to her. And then he saw who was standing near the makeup station a little ways away from the clothes- Plaxum, Lance's favorite nail tech and beautician.

"Hiii~!" She called, gesturing Lance into the seat. "Fancy meeting you here, stranger."

"Hey," Lance replied. "I'm amazed Allura was able to call you in so fast."

Plaxum shook her head, "I'm on call for this job for the next three weeks, hon. I'm here whenever you need me."

"What?" Lance whipped his head around to Keith, "Did you know about this?"

Keith nodded blithely, but before he could respond Allura ushered him out of the room.

Kimberly frowned, "Did Allura not explain anything to you?"

Lance shook his head. Kim sighed and then gracefully fell into the makeup chair beside Lance.

"To make sure you blend in on set, we're having you masquerade as Akira's- Keith's stage name- long time boyfriend. You two have been through thick and thin, and neither of you could survive without each other. You keep his emotions in check, and in turn he's completely dedicated to you." She gave a bright grin, like she hadn't just told Lance he was pulling the fake relationship card with Keith for the next two weeks. "That way you're guaranteed to be allowed on set, not just as his manager but as his emotional support."

Lance tried to keep from letting out a miserable little moan. That was like some really bizarre, domestic version of a wet dream come true for him. He gestured at all the leather and black behind Kim, "That doesn't explain all the goth stuff, though."

She turned around to look at it before giving Lance a puzzled look, "Doesn't it? You're going to have to match his aesthetic at least a little bit."

This time Lance didn't bother holding in he groan. Plaxum laughed and just pushed his head back, "Hold still, Lance, and let me put these fake eyebrow piercings on."

Meanwhile, Keith was sitting with Allura and sharing his own set of misgivings. "When you told me I'd have someone to accompany me on set, I didn't think you meant Lance."

Allura shrugged and took a sip of the tea that had been waiting for them, "Honestly, who else did you think it could be? I wouldn't entrust you to a random stranger." She offered a cookie to Keith, smiling. "Lance is going to be good for you. Trust me."

Keith's brows furrowed, "Good for me? Lance figured out who I was right away-"

Alura cut in soothingly, "Consider that your first acting test, and congratulations, you passed!"

She sat back, "He was taken aback, correct? Doubted who you were for a moment? If Lance, who knows you so well, was confused, imagine all the hubbub we'll get when the general public sees how you transformed for this show."

She looked off into the distance, "Maybe I'll design a whole new line for it..."

Keith rolled his eyes and shoved some cookies into his pockets for later. Lance wasn't getting to snack right now, he'd need them.

Not even a minute later, Kimberly entered the room and cleared her throat, "Allura, I think this might be some of my best work yet. I know I said we'd put him in black from head to toe, but he was my muse and I felt inspired."

Plaxum, appearing from behind Kim, jumped in, "Lance looks so cute! He's definitely the sweetie to Keith's scary!"

Allura frowned, peering around the two to look for Lance, "Well, I'm sure he looks amazing, but where is he?"

Plaxum glanced behind her. "Oh no! He was just here, let me go look for him."

Kimberly chuckled, "I told him he didn't have to be embarrassed, he looks good."

"Hold on a sec," Keith looked up from beneath his long hair what ended up being a death glare, "Just what the fuck did you put him in that he's too embarrassed to be seen in it?"

"It's not embarrassing, per se," Allura responded, "It's more that it's just far from his normal realm of modelling. But he's a professional, so he won't let something as small as this overcome him."

She cast Keith an angelic smile, "You'll see! Once he gets into his role he'll forget all about it."

Keith was very close to announcing that he wasn't going to do anything that Lance didn't want to do when Plaxum popped in again, "I found him!"

The Lance that stepped out was one that Keith had never seen before. Contrary to the usual femme fatale, heartthrob persona that usually graced Lance when modelling, he was curled up on himself, tugging at the hem of his oversized pink sweater like he could somehow make it cover the tiny black shorts he was wearing, only to squeak when it slipped off his shoulder and reveal the lacy strap of a black bralette.

Keith stared- he thought his jaw might have dropped he stared so hard. If it had been just the sweater short combo, he might have been able to keep it together, but Lance was also pierced. They must have been fake, but even so, a lip ring and eyebrow studs, two piercings in each ear, plus an industrial and an ear cuff had Keith feeling things. Combine that with the spiked collar and the ripped fishnets with studded combat boots and Keith realized he was staring at the same gothic lolita fashion he'd worn for the Moe Lolita Dreamland shoot, only this time Lance was the one wearing it and Keith knew that this is what these clothes were supposed to look like. Absolutely adorable.

Keith's hands twitched at his sides with the urge to reach out and touch.

"Give us a spin, Lance," Allura cooed.

He did so, revealing a studded belt and pink hearts on the back pockets of his shorts.

Keith almost managed to muffle the entirety of his groan. Almost. Kimberly's chuckle from beside him made him think that some of it got out.

"Perfect! Exactly what I had in mind for our touching star crossed lovers. Akira, meet Isamu."

Keith continued to just give Allura a blank stare, never thinking he'd be this blessed. Or cursed. He wasn't sure which one yet.

She turned around to face Lance, "All right, Isamu, it's time for you two to get to your hotel. Just remember, leaving Akira alone would cause a host of problems for everyone involved, so do make sure to properly take care of him, okay?"

Lance nodded, eyes still wide, while Keith interjected, "Hey! I can take care of myself!"

Chapter 29: Walls Down, Guard Up Boyfriend Panty

Chapter Text

Keith, wearing enough leather and spikes to clothe an entire biker gang, looked like the last person to be advocating for his ability to not cause trouble. Sitting there with Lance, Allura, Kimberly and Plaxum, Keith looked like the odd man out in some sort of fashion thriller yoga night. The fact that he was claiming to be the one capable of taking care of himself was nearly laughable.

But, instead of bursting into highly inappropriate laughter, Allura merely hummed. "Yes, because Keith Kogane has so much experiencing with show biz and Akira Kurogane has even more."

Lance nodded, "Keith, you may complain about me forgetting to eat sometimes, but if Allura doesn't send you to your shoot with a schedule, you just sit in the break area until some poor assistant comes and finds you."

Keith cocked his head, "Is that not what you're supposed to do?"

"You're right, Allura," Lance groaned, "As far from my comfort zone as these weirdly innocent yet fetishy clothes might be, I can't let Keith do this on his own."

Kimberly piped up, "Lance, this isn't kinky, it's just pastel goth. I know you don't normally go for the super feminine everyday wear but prepare to get real used to being breezy and swathed in softness.'

He winced. "I miss my leggings already."

"It's all the rage for counterculture," Plaxum replied cheerfully. "I suppose you could say it's the rage for people who wanna rage."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Lance," Allura cut in, "I'm sure we'll be able to find something suitable that Isamu would wear lounging around the hotel room when there's only Akira's loving eyes to see."

Lance chuckled uncomfortably, "Hey Allura, why do you make it sound like Keith and I will be sharing a hotel room?"

She flicked a stack of key cards his way. "Oh, did I not make that obvious? I'm not paying for two hotel rooms, especially when you two are love birds attached at the hip."

"Curse you," Lance muttered, "and your ethical spending sense."

"Lance, I forget," she said, "What video was it you asked me for? Was it the one-"

"Allura" Lance cut in, "I would just like to thank you for being a wonderful boss and having the forethought to realize Keith and I could just share a room, thank you."

She hummed, "Just be glad I didn't come for the cow."

Keith didn't listen to anything that came after the news that he and Lance were rooming together.

He'd be sharing a hotel room with Lance. Alone. In a room. With Lance. For two weeks. Fuck. He didn't- Lance would be showering. Multiple times. Changing. Changing? Lance would be changing. They'd be eating together, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Holy shit that was two weeks of dates. Three dates a day. That was- Keith wasn't good enough at math to know exactly how many right away but he knew it was a lot of dates. He hoped Lance didn't get sick of him.

Oh fuck, him and Lance were occupying such a weird in between space right now where they were definitely friends and definitely flirty and Keith was crushing so hard and how was he going to handle that for two weeks without doing something weird, or something that put Lance off?

Keith didn't realize that with all the heavy makeup still on, his thinking face looked more like a murder face, so when he looked up he was surprised to see Kimberly, Allura, Lance and Plaxum all staring at him with pale faces.

"Sometimes I impress even myself," Plaxum remarked faintly.

"Did you guys say something?" Keith asked.

Allura cleared her throat, "Yes, I just asked if the hotel accomodations were all right with you."

He grunted, voice strangled, "They're fine."

Lance eeped. "He's definitely mad, Allura."

"Well," she said, heading for the exit, "Here's hoping you can calm him down."

Lance looked back at Keith, who looked like a harbinger of death in the middle of the room.

"Kaltnecker better have the best goddamn stall any cow has ever had," he muttered.

~~~

When Lance saw the hotel room, he couldn't help but drop his very expensive duffle bag on the floor like it was some cheap canvas luggage piece.

Allura was shameless, but she wasn't this shameless.

One room? Lance could see that.

One bed? Lance could not, in any way, see that.

This was too much, even for her.

"There's only one bed," Keith muttered.

"Yes, thank you, Akira, I can see that." Lance growled.

"No need to get snippy, Isamu," Keith replied.

"I should never have just blindly trusted Allura."

"It's all right, Isamu," Keith replied, struggling to act like what his idea of one half of a lovey dovey couple would be "I can sleep on the floor."

"No," Lance sighed, going to rub at his face before remembering his makeup, "If anyone's sleeping on the floor, it should be me. I'm the reason we're in this mess-"

"It's not your fault, Isamu. It's Allura's." He looked at the king sized bed with a calculating eye. "We'll both fit no problem, it'll be fine." He looked at Lance, trying another line he felt fit the situation, "I'll even let you use my arm as a pillow."

Lance nearly imploded right then and there. He got that Keith was trying to be in character or whatever, but at the same time that was such a coupley line! And with those eyes! And so early! Did Keith really not think anything of treating Lance like a lover? Lance was sure he wasn't going to survive these two weeks. How the fuck was he supposed to survive two weeks of practically spooning Keith and getting all this treatment he'd secretly been hoping for all his life? This was so not what he'd signed up for.

Keith, watching Lance's internal struggle and misinterpreting it as unsurety of how to act in character, couldn't help but tease him, "Or can you not even do that much for the sake of your act, Lance?"

The model's head whipped up, jewelry clanging as he locked eyes with the absolute prick of a human being, "Okay, that's it, Keith- you look absolutely terrifying in those clothes but if you're gonna cop an attitude with me I don't care if you look like Satan himself I can still kick your ass-"

Lance's very out of character tirade was cut short by a knock from the door.

After a few moment of unspoken communication via intense eye contact, Lance moved to open it, only to find a very apologetic hotel manager on the other side.

It turned out that Allura was not, in fact, that shameless. Rather, the hotel had confused their key cards and put them in the wrong room.

With both of them sporting looks strong enough to intimidate entire death head mosh pits, one measly hotel manager was no match.

Keith thought that maybe playing Akira would be easier than he thought, if all he had to do was tap into his grumpier side. Allura had explained to the two of them that she wanted them to be completely wrapped up in each other. Akira would remain a mysterious presence on set because he didn't talk to the rest of the cast, he only spent his down time with his boyfriend, Isamu. Isamu would be the one talking to the producers and set crew about shooting times and locations. The only people on set Akira would be taking direction from were the directors. Allura had told them that Keith shouldn't hesitate to go to Lance for any kind of support he needed, whether it be emotional or physical. Keith didn't think he'd need any emotional support, he was absolutely fine and he didn't know what Allura was talking about, but he didn't feel like putting up a fight about it.

Just like he didn't feel like putting up a fight over the change in hotel rooms, though the manager with his repentant attitude was so over the top that Keith almost wanted to tell him to drop the luggage and get lost, they could handle finding their new room themselves.

Unfortunately, Lance didn't seem to see it that way, chatting with the manager and assuring him it was fine. While he took his time chatting away with the hotel manager, Keith took a moment to wonder why Lance had been at such a loss earlier when Keith tried to act coupley with him.

Keith's own wording led him to a conclusion. Lance had been flustered by Akira's- or Keith's- flirty line. Or was Lance doing that as Isamu? His head hurt, this whole pretending-to-be-a-couple thing made being with Lance so much harder than Keith thought it would be. Anything that happened would leave Keith second guessing where he stood with Lance and eternally wondering if Lance enjoyed everything that was happening as much as Keith was.

He looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing Lance coming towards him with his arms full of complimentary hotel goods. Apparently, too full, as Lance barely got four steps forward before the packets of tea and coupons for nearby restaurants began tumbling out of his arms. Lance groaned and bent down to gather them up.

Lance, being totally focused on the mess, didn't give one thought to grace. He thought bemusedly to himself as he began picking it up that the hotel manager really didn't have to give him so many complimentary items. He huffed a laugh, thinking the poor man was probably scared of Isamu's big bad boyfriend.

Said boyfriend was currently neither big nor bad, but rather overwhelmed once again. Lance being so off guard at the moment left Keith to stare wide eyed at the flash of pink nipple that the gaping neckline of Lance's sweater gave to Keith every time the other boy bent down. Keith averted his eyes to the floor only to see Lance's shorts cutting into the meat of his thighs and outlining the bulge in his shorts.

He made to stand up, thinking he would just check his phone and bear it, but then he remembered that he should be acting as Akira right now. Akira, an overprotective, lovey dovey boyfriend. Keith paused. How would a really attached boyfriend act seeing his boyfriend unintentionally exposing himself?

After a moment's thought, Keith did indeed stand up, grabbing Lance by the wrist and making everything fall again.

Lance eeped and exclaimed, "Akira?!" but Keith just kept walking, taking him down the elevator, out of the lobby, and straight into the thriving nightlife towards some boutiques he'd seen on the way in.

Lance had no idea what was happening, but if he had to guess he'd say Keith was doing something he thought was in character. Lance caught a glimpse of them in shop windows as they passed. Keith looked breathtaking, dark gaze focused unerringly in front of them and his dark coat whipping around him. Lance could see the lithe feline grace in Keith's walk and he could tell that he was pulling the same effortlessly dangerous feel he had for the music video.

In contrast, Lance's limbs were flailing like a baby duck as he struggled to keep up with Keith. He scolded himself, reminding him that he was a model for god's sake,and had been a model for way longer than Keith. Consciously tucking his limbs in and holding his chin up, he yanked his forearm out of Keith's grip.

The other model turned to look at him, surprise written all over "Akira's" face. Lance couldn't help the slight blush that rose to his cheeks as sheepishness filled him. Keith stopped, an expectant look on his face as he waited for Lance to give an explanation.

"My feet hurt," he murmured, his hand going up to twine with Keith's in a much more gentle version of Akira's grip from earlier, "Just walk normally. You don't have to rush."

Keith looked down at Lance's hand in his like he didn't know what to do with it, "I didn't want the stores to close."

Lance frowned, "What stores?"

Keith looked out at the boutiques surrounding them, "You'll see."

Chapter 30: Gone Batty Panties

Chapter Text

Lance spent the rest of the walk paying almost no attention to where they were headed. His focus was only on the warmth of Keith's hand in his. When Keith finally did stop, Lance found himself in front of a stylish store that had the same tag that had been on a lot of his clothes. The mannequins in the storefront looked like a biker gang and a rave had taken over Paris Fashion Week.

Showing no hesitation, Keith led Lance in and then turned to give him such a steady look that Lance felt like he was being appraised.

"Pick out what you like," Keith told him.

Lance opened his mouth to tell Keith that he didn't need to go on some kind of all-expenses-paid-for shopping spree, thank you very much, but before he did he caught himself.

The steady look on Keith's face meant he was definitely acting as Akira right now. Which meant that Akira was taking his boyfriend out shopping. Which was a very different thing from Keith trying to Lance what to wear. It meant Lance should react like he felt Isamu would.

So after a moment of thought, Lance leaned in close to Keith, close enough that he was able to look up at him through his eyelashes, "Are you sure?" He purred, "I might buy the whole store."

While on the inside, seeing Lance do that made Keith want to scream and cry and take pictures of it so he could remember it forever, on the outside he managed to keep it to a subtle smirk before turning away to hide the way it broke into a full smile.

Lance, watching Keith wander away into the maze of clothing racks, smirked to himself, thinking that Akira was the doting type of boyfriend after all. Akira, indifferent to everyone else, spoiled Isamu absolutely rotten and so Isamu clung to him more and more. Lance continued to think as he began absentmindedly strolling through the racks. Akira probably thought Isamu's behavior was endearing, which would make him want to spoil Isamu more and more, which would make Isamu cling more and more.

The whole thing was kinda cute, in a weird, twisted kind of way. But then again, Allura had told them Keith's character on the show was dark and twisted, so he supposed it only made sense.

Lance began flipping through a rack of leather tops, thinking about how his reaction could have been more in character for Isamu- should he have pouted? Thrown a fit? Sulked? Lance realized with impish glee that there was no motivation for Isamu to act cool and aloof with Akira. He could instead act however he wanted in order to get Akira's attention, even very childishly if he wanted to. That was a rare happening, considering Lance's life in the spotlight, and he resolved then and there to start being more open with his feelings- or rather, Isamu's feelings. If Lance were open about Lance's feelings there wouldn't be much sulking, only kissing. And he didn't know how Keith would respond to that.

Wondering about that led Lance to wondering how Akira would react to Isamu. Or, even better, how Keith would react to Lance's acting abilities. Lance wondered if Keith would be proud of him, before catching the thought and burying his face in a rack to hide the sudden blush on his cheeks, ignoring the warm feeling in his chest that came from the thought of Keith praising him.

Lance looked up from the rack and rapidly walked towards the other end of the store as if he could somehow outpace his gay thoughts. Deciding to put his newfound revelation about Isamu to the test, he found Keith.

"Did you decide on something you like?" Keith muttered.

"Yep!" Lance hummed, "It's a little expensive though."

"That's fine," he replied. He looked at Lance's empty hands, "What is it?"

"It's over here," Lance took Keith's hand, struggling to be casual because Isamu would obviously take Akira's hand all the time like it was totally second nature and not at all surprisingly smooth and warm- Lance shook his head again, facial jewelry jangling. He was trying not to think about that right now.

He took Keith towards the most expensive, outrageous thing in the store. It was a full body costume of sumptuous robes and head to toe embroidery with leathery bat wings. It came complete with a headdress holding two devil horns. Lance had taken one look at the subtle price tag that listed a modest $7,000 and known that this was what he wanted Akira to get.

Keith, still fully in character, looked at Isamu, staring up at him with hope sparkling in his eyes, and then over to the totally super awesome rad costume. He hadn't seen it in his casual glance around the store, but now he was kind of wishing he had because that thing was metal as fuck. Isamu had good taste.

He caught the eye of a store clerk hovering near them nervously.

"This thing looks totally sick, we'll take it."

The clerk nodded and hustled off, probably to get whatever they needed to package up the damn thing and take it home. Keith felt a hand grab his arm, he looked over expecting to see the smiling face of his "boyfriend", but instead there was such a Lance-like look of shock and worry on his face that Keith nearly forgot they were supposed to be in character, "What's wrong L- Isamu?"

"I-" Lance wasn't sure what he could say. He'd wanted to push Akira a little, buy he hadn't expected that he'd get his way no questions asked. They couldn't actually take home the stupid thing. The bat wings probably wouldn't even fit through the door of their hotel room. But saying any of that wouldn't be in character for Isamu. Lance wracked his brain for a moment. "It's very expensive," He finally settled on saying.

Keith struggled to keep his face indifferent and not show the confusion he felt from Isamu's sudden change of heart. Was Lance trying to see whether or not Akira would really spoil his boyfriend? If this was a challenge, Keith was not going to back down. They were getting this costume, whether Isamu wanted it or not.

"I have lots of money," He replied, gesturing to the clerk to begin boxing it up.

The clerk stepped forward but Lance held out his hand, gesturing for the clerk to wait, so they stepped away from the costume again.

"It's very... outlandish," Lance said.

"Don't worry," Keith replied with no hesitation, "You look good in anything."

Lance took a very deep breath to prevent himself from squealing like a schoolgirl and then calmly turned away from Keith, crossing his arms and looking out over the rest of the store, pouting, "It's ugly and gross and I don't like it."

"Isamu, if you're not going to be serious about picking out your clothes, I'll pick them out for you." And with that all or nothing statement declared way too casually, Keith turned around to a rack of pants behind them and threw a pair of low rise black leather bootcuts at his boyfriend.

"Try those on."

Lance opened his mouth to argue because he felt like Isamu would, but Keith glared at him, letting him know that he was done with the games, and so Lance meekly went to the dressing room and tried them on, finding that they fit him like a soft, pliable second skin. He got that annoyingly warm feeling in his chest again when he wondered if Keith had chosen these for him because he knew they were easier to move around in than the skin tight leather shorts.

He came out wearing them to tell Keith he liked them and that they could get a pair, only to find him standing outside surrounded by four of the boutique's bags.

"What are all these, Akira?" Lance asked, fully prepared to have to tell him that they were not, absolutely not, buying the $7,000 one of a kind costume Lance had jokingly asked for before.

"I thought you might like the pants, so I went ahead and bought a few pairs." Akira explained tonelessly.

"How many is a lot?" Lance's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"... Ten."

"Kei- Akira! That's too many!" He shook his head. "You've got to return them. Buy yourself something with that money."

"But I like spending my money on you more."

He looked at Lance from underneath his bangs, turning big puppy dog eyes on him that should not have worked considering the amount of eyeliner, but they did. Lance could already feel his will weakening. "You wouldn't take my only joy away from me, would you Isamu?"

Lance hissed a curse under his breath, "Not fair Akira!"

Keith only tilted his head a little farther, eyes shining in the lights.

Lance was able to remain strong for only ten seconds more before he groaned, "Fine, Akira, you can buy me these things, but ten is way too many! Return all but two."

Keith frowned, looking at all the bags around him like Lance had stomped all over them in a fit of peak. "All but three," he said.

Lance, unprepared to haggle with his fake boyfriend about how many pairs of leather pants were too many pairs of leather pants, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. "Fine, three pairs. Now go return them and pick out other things!"

Keith all but trotted off back to the store. Lance thought that if there was such a thing as an adorable zombie doberman, that would be Keith's Akira right now. It was interesting, seeing the petulant side of Akira that had come out tonight. He could see that to Keith, Akira was someone who would go all out and wouldn't hold back, but who also didn't plan ahead. He snickered to himself, thinking that wasn't too far from Keith in real life.

Lance begrudgingly thought to himself that he wanted to see more of Keith's puppy dog eyes, and then blushed and buried his head in his hands thinking about just how cute Keith could be.

Lance felt like they were rapidly losing themselves in their roles, and he could understand why Allura had wanted someone with Keith. Feeling like this made the boundaries between what you were really feeling and what your character was feeling hazy at best.

Lance felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and turned around, thinking Keith was back.

Keith was not back, and his hand was definitely not the one on Lance's shoulder. It was some sleazy guy who looked like he belonged by the dumpster at a third rate metal concert, with dirty clothes that were a cheap attempt at the looks Lance and Keith were serving, and a mohawk that Lance was reasonably sure TSA would count as a weapon. He was surrounded by three backup hooligans, and Lance thought, in a moment of panicked wit, that they looked like a third rate cover band for some actual metal head legend.

He looked back and forth between the hand on his shoulder and the man grinning down at him.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Mohawk guy began. Lance rolled his eyes in an effort to show that he was not amused, secretly hoping someone intervened soon because while Lance was used to turning away cat calls, he didn't usually attract men that looked so dangerous, and he certainly couldn't do anything about four of them at once. "We're heading to a bar," the sleaze fest continued, "and were wondering if a cute thing like you would want to join us."

Lance looked out over the square, and then down at the ground. He stayed quiet for long enough that one of the guys made to step forward and shake him, but then Lance looked up, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth.

"Sure, but if you want to take me out, you've got to get permission first," and then he cocked his head back, looking past the guys and straight into the eyes of Keith, who, backlit by the bright city lights and wearing his hooded leather coat, looked like a dark avenging angel come to wreak havoc and pass judgement.

Chapter 31: Suited Up Leather and Lace Bodysuit

Summary:

Chapter Text

Lance looked up at the man with a hand on his shoulder and smirked, "If you want to take me out, you've got to get permission first," His gaze landed on Keith standing off to the side like a harbinger of doom, "From him."

"Hey babe," Lance continued, head lolling and a lazy smile on his lips, "These guys say they want to play with me... What do you think?"

The cold pit that had been sitting in Keith's stomach since he'd seen Lance surrounded by these men immediately lessened in response to Lance's use of a pet name for him in a way that was much too soft and sweet for the current circumstances. While Keith had never, before this moment, known that he wanted to be called babe, suddenly he wanted Lance to call him nothing else. It was the same kind of dark want that came from Akira, the kind of craving he would fight to fulfill.

The chief hooligan with the most ridiculous hair turned around to face Keith. His sense of danger must have been skewed, because while other people were moving to the other side of the square in order to avoid Keith, the guy just sauntered over to him with a grin on his face, "Hey man, that's your little boy toy, right? Plenty of men loan us their playthings for the night. Do what's best for yourself right now, dude, don't complicate things by acting heroic or getting pissy. Let us take your chick for the night. He looks like he'd be a good time."

Lance pulled a face at that line, because he hadn't heard such stereotypical intimidation tactics since his last rewatch of The Godfather.

Meanwhile, Keith wondered what he should do. If he fought them, he'd be putting Lance in danger, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted. He wouldn't fight until he had to, not when there was a chance that Lance could be hurt. And also because... fighting didn't usually go well for Keith. He should just focus on Lance, and getting him to safety. If he had to rough these guys up, he would, but he hoped it didn't come to that.

Hoping he could keep it from coming to blows, Keith walked right past the dude who had so incompetently tried to threaten him, flicking one finger at Lance and saying in a bored voice, "Isamu, let's go."

"Okaaayy." There was no surprise in Lance's expression, because he had total faith in Keith- or was it total faith in Akira?- that they'd get out of this situation no problem. He simply trotted up to Keith's side, a disinterested look on his face to hide his internal relief.

"Ha," One of the backup thugs laughed, "Dude, he totally just straight up ignored you."

"Oh man, what are you going to do?" Another one jumped in.

The leader looked off to the side and spit at the ground where Keith had just been. "Man, and I was trying to handle things peacefully, too."

"Uh oh," the first backup goon laughed, "Are things going to get violent?"

Keith was listening to them very intently, handing the bags off to Lance and ushering him out into the center of the square, waiting to hear a reply. When the guy went quiet instead, Keith was expecting the punch that came his way. He whirled around so he could see it and dodge.

As he continued to duck and swerve out of the guy's range, leading him away from Lance, Keith thought distantly that this was the first time he'd fought in an honest-to-god street brawl since Shiro had brought him to L.A. The last time he'd fought had been- but Keith's train of thought was cut off by the guy landing a punch.

He leaned over, more from shock than anything else, the back of his motorcycle glove serving to wipe the blood from his split lip. He looked at the dark, glossy stain for a moment, then up at the punk who'd hit him.

"And that," Keith hissed, voice low and gravelly in a way Lance had never heard it before, "Is why you shouldn't be distracted during fights."

Standing off to the side, Lance despairingly thought to himself that rather than worrying about being distracted, Keith should worry about their reputation. If he hit the guy and it made the news, people would figure out that Keith was Akira and then the TV show, Voltron, and even Keith's modeling career could be toast.

He should never have said that antagonistic line to those guys, if he hadn't gotten caught up in his role or if he'd just run away instead of egging the men on, Keith wouldn't be fighting for his life right then.

A loud smack from the fight in front of him drew Lance's attention. He saw one of the backup goons on the periphery of the fight edging in towards Keith. It was obvious Keith didn't see him, too focused on dodging the blows coming from in front of him. When the guy got behind Keith and went in for a punch, Lance couldn't let himself stand off to the side any longer. It was his fault they'd gotten into this mess, and he couldn't leave Keith to handle it by himself.

He rushed up, grabbing at the guy, "Hey! Stop it! You're worse than the Galra, teaming up three against one like this! Even worse than fucking Lotor!"

The guy didn't spare a look at Lance, simply giving him a full body shove that knocked Lance to the ground. Lance heard his sweater rip as he hit the pavement, and he couldn't muffle his yelp as his hands scraped the rough concrete.
Lance's fear stricken voice made Keith whirl around, eyes wide with worry. He saw Lance collapsed on the pavement, one of the hulking brutes standing over him without a hint of regret. This is exactly what Keith had been afraid of. Lance was hurt and it was his fault. He hadn't gotten them out of there quickly enough, hadn't been able to handle these thugs on his own. Lance had still had to come to his help.

Keith wasn't on the defensive anymore. These men had hurt Lance, an innocent bystander, and Keith had been unable to stop. His frustration with himself boiled over, eyes smoldering with anger and every muscle in his body tensed to spring at these assholes who'd come out of nowhere.

He stepped towards the hooligan who'd been hoping for a sneak attack, glaring out at him with the full force of his fear for Lance and his anger at himself.

Unbidden, Lance felt himself shrink back when he saw the look on Keith's face. There was the same raw intimidation on Keith's face now as there had been when Lance had first encountered Keith in front of that hotel and been so scared.

He remembered what Keith had explained to him, hiding in that alleyway near the hotel.

"I'll be playing a teen gang member in this TV show called Marmora's Blade. The whole show is a gritty, action-filled retelling of gang violence in the Southwestern United States- about drug running and immigrants and all sorts of shit. They asked Allura if I'd like to play a character and they came up with this idea to keep my identity a secret and let me be the character on and off set, okay?"

Lance nodded. The whole idea was pretty cool, if convoluted, like most media marketing campaigns were. "Why'd they choose you?"

Keith shrugged, "Apparently they were looking for hip, current, up-and-coming celebrities for most of their smaller roles, and Voltron has been one of the biggest buzzwords in the fashion world this season. Combine that with the fact that they like my music video and Allura told me I was a shoo-in for the part."

Lance hissed. That damn music video again. The thing was a curse as much as it was a blessing. It had been Keith at his most beautiful, but also at his most vulnerable. And now, apparently, this TV gig wanted to draw all that out again with some teen who needed to be heartless to make it in his world, but who just wanted to be loved.

Lance thought now, sprawled out on the pavement, that maybe that was what made Keith's stare so powerful. His normally hidden desire to be impervious to the affection of others was now an open, gaping wound, with a glare harsh enough to turn people away. Lance knew what was in that stare. It was self-defense. It was hurt or be hurt.

"Get out of there, idiots!" Lance yelled, knowing that Keith as he was now was not going to pull his punches but instead take those guys out as quickly as possible.

Because the foolhardy leader had no self preservation instincts to begin with, he didn't try to get out of there. So Lance tried again, appealing to Keith this time, "Akira! Don't hurt him!"

Keith's eyes blew wide, remembering Shiro shout those exact same words when he found Keith standing bloody knuckled and without his backpack in the dim glow from a streetlight behind a McDonald's. Instead of his punch landing on flesh, it hit the wall behind the street thug at the last second, Keith leaning against it and breathing heavily.

The man whimpered, realizing at last how close he'd come to a broken nose.

Lance stepped forward, tugging his ripped sweater up in a futile bid to hide his chest. He moved in next to Keith, laying a tentative hand on his upper arm. Keith's face was white, eyes haunted.

He hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to proceed. When Allura told him he'd have to take care of Keith, he'd thought he'd have to feed him, not... whatever this was. Lance didn't even know if what had just happened had ben Keith acting as Akira or not. He didn't even know Keith could fight like that.

While they stood immobile, the guy ducked away, running with his goons. Lance and Keith stayed frozen where they were, the only noise the harsh grating of Keith's breathing.

Lance struggled for something to say, but while he tried to think of something Keith tilted his head minutely, shifting towards Lance. His eyes, wide and startled and fearful, looked out at him.

"Lance?" He asked in a voice much too small to be coming from such an intimidating body.

"Yep. Hey, Keith. It's me. I'm right here."

Chapter 32: Whipped Up and Whipped Out Creme Teddy

Chapter Text

Keith had rescued their bags and begun herding Lance back to the hotel, but Lance could see a haunted look in Keith's eyes that worried him. It was worrying enough that he stopped Keith after only a few minutes of walking and took Keith's face in his hands, something he'd never do as Lance but that felt natural as Isamu, and knocked their foreheads together.

"What happened back there?" He didn't have to be any more specific; he could feel the tightening of Keith's body and knew the other boy knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I just got caught up in the moment, that's all," Keith replied, failing to meet Lance's eyes.

"As Akira?" Lance's voice grew smaller and softer, "Or as Keith?"

"I'm fine," Keith shrugged out of Lance's hands, moving on ahead.

"Really?" Lance asked, not wanting to corner Keith but also not wanting to drop the issue.

Keith didn't reply. He stopped, turned around, and studied Lance for a moment before holding out his hand. With no hesitation, Lance put his hand in Keith's.

"Thanks," Keith said gruffly. Lance knew he wasn't thanking him for the hand holding, and didn't even try to stop the smile that broke over his face.

"Of course, it's my job as your boyfriend to watch over you," he joked.

Keith didn't reply, again, which Lance was coming to realize was customary for Akira. They walked on, both wondering if this was the sort of watching over that Shiro and Allura had in mind for them.

Keith didn't relax until he had Lance safe and sound back in their room. Even then, it wasn't so much that he relaxed as he managed to push the sense of panic over what had happened to the back of his mind.

By some minor miracle all of Lance's bags had been fine, and he was now sorting through the things Keith had bought when he'd exchanged the seven pairs of pants in hopes that he could find a shirt to replace his ripped sweater.

"Keith, how did you afford all of these?" Lance asked, voice thin with disbelief. He'd emptied four bags and was surrounded by tops and bottoms. "There's no way seven pairs of pants turned into-" he paused, trying to do a quick mental tally to figure out just how much Keith had bought, but ended up just saying, "All this."

Keith elected not to reply, simply giving him a small shrug and continuing to play on his phone. Lance shook his head, figuring any answer he'd get would just be doting nonsense, and continued folding a pile of slinky black shirts. "How did you even have time to buy all of these?"

Keith again elected not to answer, and Lance's supposition for his silence was exactly right. Keith didn't feel the need to explain why because his answer would be rather embarrassing. He may have re-entered into the store and let his fantasies run away with him.

It was just that on his way to the pants section he saw some jackets that he thought Lance would like, and then some camisoles, and then the sales clerk pointed out their new tops, and Keith may have used a full week's worth of their food allowance from Allura but it had been really fun buying clothes for Lance and he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He wasn't normally one for fashion, knowing generally when something looked good or bad but being a little out of touch when it came to trends. He also apparently had some tastes that ran opposite the mainstream. He thought khaki corduroys looked great but when he'd approved that particular idea of Coran's, Lance had gotten so worked up he'd almost cried.

"I think you bought more clothes than I could physically wear in two weeks, Keith." The boy glanced over to the bed to see Lance skeptically eyeing what had turned into a small mountain of black fabric.

Rather than admit he'd done anything less than a perfect job, Keith responded, "I thought you were good at fashion, can you not figure out a way to wear all of them?"

Lance's head whipped up and the two locked eyes. Keith hummed and then continued, "I guess maybe that would be a bit too much for you after all."

"Oh, I know about fashion," Lance said, getting up on his knees and starting to root through the mounds of clothing covering his bed, "I know more about it than you do anyway. I know that you bought a shit ton of stuff that will match with absolutely nothing else you bought, but that I'm going to wear it anyway because I can make anything look good."

Keith snorted, "Good luck."

"I'm a fashion icon," Lance sniffed primly, "I don't need your luck."

Keith just raised his eyebrows at Lance, asking if he was serious, but when Lance refused to acknowledge him he huffed, "I'm taking a shower," and moved into the bathroom.

Lance, earnestly wondering how the fuck he was going to make fourteen cohesive outfits from all the odds and ends Keith had bought, suddenly had a startling realization. Even though they hadn't necessarily been in character, Keith had still wrapped Lance around his little finger and done just what he wanted with him. Keith had dodged all Lance's questions and appealed to Lance's pride in an effort to get him to wear the clothes. Lance wanted to be angry, but instead he was just impressed. He should have just taken the pants- even if it was just ten identical pairs.

He fell back into the soft mound of clothing on his bed, mind still on Keith, where it seemed to be twenty four-seven these days.

~~~

Keith had used conditioner instead of shampoo not once but twice, but in his defense he was less than focused on getting clean. The scene in the square kept playing through his head, each time more muddled up with other fights he'd been in, other times people he'd loved had been in danger. He felt clammy, a churning in his stomach that stemmed from the feeling that he might not be as up to this job as he thought. Keith needed to get his feelings under control, he couldn't go back out to Lance feeling like this.

The model in question had thrown out his now ruined sweater, had tried on all his new clothes to find that they fit annoyingly well, and thrown them in the wash minus their tags. He looked up to consider whether he should start dinner only to come to the startling realization that Keith had been in the shower for forty minutes now.

Now Lance knew some people could take long showers, especially people in the beauty business, but forty minutes was a really long time, for anybody. He perused the room service menu and considered the tiny kitchenette, too distracted by Keith's prolonged absence to come to a conclusion about dinner. Keith could be pretty absent-minded sometimes, and Lance was coming to realize that went double for Akira. Lance began worrying that maybe he'd fallen asleep in the shower, maybe he'd tripped, maybe he was wounded and was too proud to ask for help.

Mind filled with increasingly awful possibilities, Lance raced to the bathroom and burst in without even knocking. Without a moment of hesitation, he ripped back the shower curtain and then found himself face to face with Keith's wet, naked body.

Keith whipped around when the curtain was suddenly opened, a very womanly screech leaving his body before he got himself under control. Thirty seconds of mutually stunned silence went by, Keith having absolutely no clue what was going on. Wanting to alleviate the worried look on Lance's face, he cocked his head and said, "What, you wanna get in?"

There was the cutest stunned look on Lance's face, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. It made Keith want to pull him under the spray and kiss him senseless.

Unfortunately, Lance's reaction quickly morphed into a look of annoyance and he said, "No, you pervert. I was just wondering if we were out of Cheetos."

Keith frowned, "Lance this is our first day here. Why would we have Cheetos?"

Lance nodded and said, "Right, right, but if we go grocery shopping, would you like some?"

Keith shrugged, causing a cascade of water down his pecs and toned abdomen. "Sure? I guess?"

Lance smiled, "Great!"

And with that he ducked out and slammed the door, leaving Keith to his steamy reflections. Literally steamy, not so much figuratively steamy. Keith hadn't thought Lance's first time joining him in the shower would involve something so mundane as grocery shopping.

On the other side of the bathroom door, Lance was crouching with his head in hands bemoaning the entirety of his personhood. The only good thing right now was that Keith had made him change out of the tight shorts from earlier so that Lance's boner wasn't absolutely dying. It was the only part of Lance not dying. While he'd been less than a foot from Keith's face- and Keith's dick- Lance's mind had been a mantra of don't glance down, don't glance down, don't glance down. Keith had been so blase about the whole affair and Lance had asked such a stupid question. The part of Lance not dying of embarrassment was kicking himself that he hadn't just taken advantage of the situation and looked at Keith's dick.

He bet it was a pretty dick. He didn't have any evidence on which to base this assumption, but he just knew that Keith had a pornstar level dick. The rest of Keith was pretty, so it followed logically that his dick would be too. Lance fell over, curling up on the carpet and flicking at a piece of fuzz right in front of his face like it would somehow make him feel better. Keith was just so. fucking. hot. It wasn't fair- and Keith wasn't aware of his looks, which just added another layer of charm.

Lance figured Keith probably wasn't a dick about his looks because he didn't have people ogling him all the time- just when he was showering, Lance thought with another wave of embarrassment. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that had him pausing in his floor gymnastics routine on their hotel carpeting. Keith didn't think Lance had snuck into the bathroom just to get a peak, did he? Surely Keith had seen Lance's chivalric effort to keep his eyes on Keith's face. Lace groaned and resumed rolling back and forth in the small hallway. He'd had a prime opportunity in front of him for spank bank material til kingdom come and he'd ruined it! Hopefully Keith could appreciate that. Lance's self-sacrificing efforts were worth it if Keith recognized his stellar conduct.

For the briefest of seconds, Lance debated going back in on the pretense of some even more bullshit excuse to give himself a chance to see the things that mattered. But he abandoned the idea quickly, he had to call room service- and make a grocery list apparently.

He ordered dinner for Keith via a guesstimation of what he might like, and when Keith came back from the shower and attempted to make a beeline straight for the bed Lance intervened.

"Hey, Keith, before you go to bed, I ordered soup and salad for you. I tried to pick things that were easy to eat." He pointed an arresting finger at Keith, "I'm going to shower, when I come back I want to see an empty bowl!"

He walked off to the bathroom and Keith gave a rueful smile as he watched him go. Lance really was good at caring for people.

Keith took a few spoonfuls of soup before sighing and scrubbing his hands over his face. He wished Lance had been at least a little more surprised when he'd opened Keith's shower curtain. The boy's eyes had stayed so resolutely on his face, Keith could tell he hadn't even been trying to sneak a peek. Keith wished that even if it had been acting in character Lance had looked a little more interested.

He looked despairingly at the spiral cut tomato perched decoratively atop his salad and gave it a poke, watching it fall apart and tumble down the sides of the lettuce hill. Keith knew for sure that Lance was interested. He must just have his own reasons for acting so- proper. Keith, with a bit of a pout, thought that Lance could at least blush when he saw Keith shirtless. Here he was barely able to keep it together around Lance, having nearly died from the boy's sheer perfection at least five times over the last twenty four hours alone, and apparently Lance was able to only find Keith attractive when it suited him, acting at all other times as the perfect picture of professionalism.

Keith was okay with that, though. He was just happy they were friends, and he'd rather deal with Lance toying around with him than the sheer enmity between them when they'd first met.

Keith finished his soup, only ate the sliced carrots off the salad, and then stripped to his boxers and curled up in the bed, pulling the covers over his head so there was absolutely no chance he'd be surprised by a freshly showered Lance.

The shower had been exactly what Lance needed, twenty minutes of hot water and delicious self care. But now he was faced with a slight problem, one he wasn't used to worrying about. Normally, he'd walk out in a fabulous pair of underwear, take a swig straight from whatever cold drink he had in the fridge, and then hopefully be comatose for the next eight hours. But, he wasn't sure if Isamu would do that. He also wasn't sure that he, as Lance, would be able to survive walking around in his underwear around Keith.

Even the idea of that steady, intense gaze had Lance feeling the beginnings of arousal pooling war in his gut and Lance was 100% sure he would never live down the embarrassment of popping a boner just because of Keith's stare.

Going out in the same clothes he'd worn beforehand was not an option, and the unflattering complimentary terry cloth robe even less so. Going out in his underwear was really the only acceptable thing to do, but that just sounded like a doomed mission from the start. Lance was not used to feeling self conscious about his body, especially about being in his skivvies- he'd started as solely a boudoir model for god's sake. But all of his professionalism and experience wouldn't mean a thing the moment Keith looked him up and down, Lance just knew it.

Groaning in defeat, Lance hopped back into the leather jeans, figuring he could go just shirtless.

Muttering to himself about how he should never be anything less than fashionable, and that he would have to buy some pjs while he was out tomorrow, Lance walked back out into their room, only to see Keith completely buried under the covers and all of Lance's worries having been for naught. He rolled his eyes- if that wasn't their relationship in a nutshell.

Lance shrugged out of his pants, worries about boners from hell irrelevant, and then realized that if he wanted to go shopping, he'd need to know what they were doing tomorrow. They were free in the morning and evening, but he knew that in the middle of the day they had a preliminary script reading, which sounded very exciting... for Keith. Lance would no doubt be sitting off to the side looking pretty and being bored for a fuckin' long time.

Planning out what they would do the following day, Lance slipped into bed, thinking that this whole experience would definitely be the death of him.

Chapter 33: T-Back Bra and Thong in Over-Exposed or Tastefully Nude

Chapter Text

These early mornings would be the death of him. When his alarm went off, Lance wondered if he could fit Kaltenecker into an economy plane seat and fly the two of them back to Cuba and out of Allura's reach so that he could sleep in past his alarm and not face dire consequences.

But no, he knew she would hunt him down and find him, and more importantly he knew that Keith needed Lance with him right now, so Lance found it within himself to get up, order breakfast, and then proceed to rouse Keith, which was an atrociously hard task. Lance wasn't sure if Keith was just acting like he thought Akira would act or if he actually had a hard time getting up in the mornings, but either way Lance's expectations for Keith's level of wakefulness quickly dropped from an alert Keith to a functioning Keith to a conscious Keith.

Lance watched his fake boyfriend mechanically scoop oatmeal into his mouth with a skeptical eye. He wasn't sure if he was actually awake or not, but he was eating, so Lance would count it as a win.

He left Keith to his own devices when it came to getting ready, Lance worrying too much about his own wardrobe to check behind his temporary lover. In the elevator and during the walk across the car park, Lance doubted that had been the right decision to make. Keith's hair as Akira was unkempt, yes, fashionably messy, certainly. But today he just had bed head. There were no two ways about it. His fluffy, black hair was sticking up in every direction except for where it was completely smashed flat in the back in a way that could never be mistaken for fashion.

He was glad Allura and Plaxum were waiting for them in a trailer at the car park, Allura having foreseen the need for Lance to get touched up and for Keith to get ready from basically the ground up. Lance was tempted to ask how Allura knew they needed this, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, as it would probably be well-meaning yet condescending.

Since Lance was going to be a much quicker glam job, Plaxum ushered him into the chair first. Keith, faced with the prospect of one-on-one contact with Allura, ducked out of the trailer with a muttered excuse about calling Shiro. When he was outside, he found that he actually did really like the idea of calling his brother. He wanted to ask Shiro what he'd thought when he'd pulled Keith out of all those fights so many years ago. How did he look at Keith and not see failure? How was he not afraid of Keith? What had Shiro seen or felt that had kept him from thinking Keith was a lost cause with anger management issues and a bad attitude?

After the brawl yesterday, those were the thoughts that had risen to the forefront of his mind. He was beginning to think that he shouldn't be wondering what their relationship was, but rather whether it was even safe for them to have a relationship. He'd fallen back into the violence of the fight so easily yesterday. There were parts of himself he'd thought he'd left in the desert, but maybe the skeletons in his closet had followed him. Before he could actually gather the courage to call Shiro, Plaxum stuck her head out the door and announced that they were ready for him.

He nodded, saying absolutely nothing about the fact that he'd obviously not called his brother, and sat down in her makeup chair with a heavy thwump like the weight of the world- or an existential crisis- was on his shoulders.

He sat there, watching Plaxum make his dark circles darker and his grimace more menacing, contouring his jawline until he looked carved from marble. Keith had sworn to himself, when Shiro took him to L.A., that he wouldn't continue to hurt the people in his life. He'd turn over a new leaf and leave that abandoned, hurting eleven year old in the desert where Shiro had found him. Unfortunately, Keith was realizing that child hadn't been left behind, simply put to sleep or shoved in a storage closet, and now all those fears and worries of his younger self were coming to the forefront again.

Keith had determined a very long time ago that he wasn't relationship material, that he wasn't a people person in general, that he shouldn't let people in because eventually he'd push them out. Lance's presence in his life had made Keith forget that, had made him feel like he was only the best parts of himself. In a way, he was grateful to Allura and to those thugs. He shouldn't forget those parts of himself that made him someone unworthy of an amazing boy like Lance.

He'd been thinking about it while he watched Lance putter about getting breakfast for them that morning. Lance had looked so scared for Keith when he'd tried to pull him out of the dark thoughts in his head. As the filming for this show continued, things would only get more intense, and Lance didn't need to be around to witness that. Keith needed to talk to Allura.

Thankfully, he had a chance when Lance left for the bathroom, leaving Keith alone with Plaxum washing her brushes off to the side and Allura critically eyeing his newly styled bed head.

"Hey Allura," he started, unsure of how to phrase his request.

She hummed disinterestedly, flicking a piece of lint off her pencil skirt.

"I know I said I'd take Lance for this job," he paused, looking up at Allura and meeting her eyes, "But I don't think I need him anymore."

She arched one perfectly plucked brow, "Oh really? You're not scared are you?"

Keith, for the first time in his life completely ignoring the bait, said, "Lance... Lance makes me forget about parts of myself. Parts that I should always carry with me."

Allura had picked up one of Plaxum's powder compacts and was inspecting her face. "That's fine." She looked up at Keith over the rim of the compact, "but you have to be the one to tell him."

She patted some powder across her nose. "I think you need him. But if you don't, just tell him that. 'I don't need you, I can do this on my own.' Those exact words." She looked up, steady gaze cutting into Keith and getting straight to the truth at the bottom of his heart.

As much as Keith couldn't bear to admit it, as selfish as he was for wanting Lance still near him, as much as he wished he was strong enough to do this on his own, the truth was Keith did indeed need Lance.

~~~

The next thing on their agenda for the day was attending the script reading for the television show. It would be Akira's first introduction to the people on set and Allura urged them not to fuck it up as many times as Plaxum urged them not to mess up their eyeliner.

When they arrived, Keith stepped out of the car and immediately put his hood up. Lance rolled his eyes at the drama king he was "dating" and then stepped out as well, grinning when he saw that Keith stood off to the side waiting for him to take the lead. Apparently Lance's role as manager wasn't just for looks. He'd have to make sure he did a better job than Keith had done. He bemusedly remembered the disaster that had occurred back when Allura had been too sick to field Lance's meetings and appointments herself. He'd show Keith what being a manager really looked like.

Unfortunately, his stint as manager got off to a rocky start when they arrived at the front desk and Lance promptly realized he had no idea who to ask for. He had to give a subtle look at Keith who grunted out "Ryler Okari."

After receiving less than helpful instructions on where to go, Lance headed off, doing his best to find the correct meeting room. He pouted as he thought to himself that Allura should have given him more details, only being shaken from his thoughts when a firm hand on the top of his head let him know that Keith thought his pouting was adorable.

As they approached the meeting room, Keith casually stepped in front of Lance, and when they approached the double doors Keith pushed them both open and strode through, his entrance loud enough to wake the dead. Lance was glad he was walking behind Keith because he got to see the stunned looks on everyone's faces as his boyfriend stomped towards one of the two remaining empty chairs and threw himself into it, swinging his buckled combat boots onto the table and only acknowledging the director, giving him a curt, "Sorry we're late," that sounded less than sincere.

Ryler, who was in on the subterfuge currently occurring, only grinned and said, "Glad to see you could make it."

He turned to look at Lance, as did everyone else in the room. Lance sashayed into the room with his best model walk, his hips tilting back and forth and shoes thumping dully against the carpet. When he got to the last chair between Keith and the rest of the table, he nodded at the director and said, "Apologies for Akira. He can be..." he cut his eyes over at the boy in question, who was staring out the far window disinterestedly, "A handful."

Keith snorted and Lance continued on like he hadn't heard it, "We're looking forward to working with you," he turned to address the rest of the table, "With all of you."

The table remained silent for a couple more seconds before Ryler clapped his hands and said, "Well, now that everyone's here, we can get down to business."

He launched into some general explanations of who the bigwigs seated at the table were and Lance listened with only half an ear, people watching more than listening.

Ryler looked very casual and down to earth in cargo shorts and a souvenir t-shirt for Boulder, Colorado. Lance got the impression that this whole TV show reeked of Gen-Z relevance. No wonder they'd approached Voltron for involvement.

Many of the others at the table looked to be varying shades of hipster, with some sporting tattoos or piercings in places far more obvious than might be allowed at all television network companies.

When basic introductions were out of the way, Ryler shuffled the papers sitting in front of him, and got down to business. "All right guys, so we're reading through the second half of the first season today, the El Paso arc and the season finale. Does everyone have a copy of the script?"

There was a corresponding shuffle from the people seated around the table. Keith pulled a copy that had been folded several times over and had a dark stain on one corner out from a pocket deep within his coat.

"For this arc, we're using a special guest star, the talented young man off to my left, Akira."

There was a polite mumble from most of the people, but Lance noticed one of the women further down the table didn't say anything, fixing them with an intense stare instead. With a start, Lance realized it was Acxa, one of the Galra models who'd come to hang around Lotor. She looked as displeased to see them as Lance was to see her.

He made a mental note to ask Allura if she'd known about this. While it didn't exactly make him uncomfortable, he did hope that if they stayed out of Acxa's way, she'd stay out of theirs.

"We're very excited to be working with Akira, he's one of the many up and coming talents we're looking to feature in this show, and his character," Ryler paused to wink at the table members, "Who also happens to be named Akira, is someone we hope you all fall in love with... Before we kill him off in a heart wrenching season finale."

Lance very narrowly kept himself from visibly reacting to that information. He hadn't known Keith's character died. Keith was going to act out a death scene? He tilted his head towards Keith, trying to see if the other boy looked worried, but he wasn't showing any reaction. Lance figured it was best if he also played it super cool.

The actual reading of the script was only somewhat interesting. Lance thought the plot was a little convoluted for his taste, the corrupt cops and earnest mafia members occupying too many moral grey areas for him to tell who were supposed to be the heroes and who were supposed to be the villains. What surprised him the most was Keith's ability to bring his character to life.

While there were many aspects that were similar between Keith, Akira and his character, there was a hopelessness to many of the decisions Akira made in the show that Lance had never seen in Keith. With every drug run Akira agreed to and every odd job the Blade of Marmora made him take on, he became more upset with himself and more unable to reconcile his dreams of being a reputable U.S. citizen with his obligations to the gang who'd given him a place in the U.S. in the first place.

The other people seated at the table very quickly realized that Keith had gotten this job for good reason, and during their short breaks a couple of people had even complimented him on his reading. Keith was glad to know he was proving his place on this cast, but reading Akira's lines out loud to a group of people instead of alone in his room made the lines he was reading that much more real.

On their second episode, Keith read an interlude between himself and his fleeting potential love interest. It was a fleeting love interest because he very quickly told her that he was in too deep and would never be able to amount to anything more than a thug and a criminal. She pursued him and he didn't have the strength of will to push her away, but eventually she couldn't take it anymore and left on her own.

In the scene, he told her that he was too rough for a girl like her, but directly after that scene he had dialogue with Thace, his mentor in the Blade, who told him to buck up and bury his bleeding heart. Akira admitted that he he was scared to be with her because he could never give her a proper relationship.

That was something Keith could really relate to, and he admired that decision of Akira's, thinking that honestly it was the best decision his character could make.

Lance, sitting beside Keith and listening to the script reading, heard the dialogue and thought it was the stupidest line of reasoning he'd ever heard. He thought bemusedly to himself that kind of self-sacrificing shit sounded like something Keith would do. Lance ws of the opinion that thinking like that wasn't fair to their loved ones, because it robbed them of their choice and their ability to help.

While Akira was more emotionally stunted than Keith, Keith had grown up with Shiro on his side, while Akira was struggling all on his own. Keith didn't have Shiro right now, but he wished he did. He could feel the weight of Akira's difficult decisions on him, and he wanted someone to share the load.

In their hotel room that night, Lance could tell that Keith was out of sorts. He avoided every jibe and teasing remark Lance made, and was showered and in bed by ten p.m., which was several hours earlier than the night before.

Lance wasn't sure what to do, but he thought this might be something he needed to give time. If he tried to pursue the issue, Keith might just move farther away from Lance, which was the last thing he wanted. They were opening up to each other, sharing things, and Lance had placed his trust in Keith. He could only hope that Keith would do the same.

Chapter 34: Lace Up Corset In Setting Sun and Evening Blue

S

Chapter Text

Because the set's schedule didn't allow the team to film in anything close to resembling episodic, chronological order, one of the first days on set involved Keith's death scene. The producers for the show had flown in all the supporting cast for the two-part season finale, as well as a few others who were foreshadowing characters featuring in the next season. Because of the time crunch, they were filming the finale first.

If Keith had wanted time to warm up to the idea of dying, he wasn't getting it. His thoughts were more confused than ever, with reflections on Akira's actions and thoughts about himself all blurring together into one headachey mess that Keith just wanted to talk out with someone.

However, the only person readily available was Lance, and seeing as much of his personal dilemma centered around the blue-eyed boy, Keith couldn't find it within himself to open up to him. They'd opened up to each other about a lot of things, Lance telling him about Lotor and the two sharing those kisses that had been so memorable even if they were so few.

But this, this felt different. Every time he imagined telling Lance all he could think about was Lance reacting like Akira's love interest, turning away in disgust or, even worse, saying he'd be there for him but then later leaving when Keith needed him most. Keith liked to think Lance would be there. He wanted to believe that. But what if he was wrong?

Luckily for Keith, these were exactly the sort of thoughts swirling through Akira's head. Unluckily for Keith, he couldn't receive any guidance from his TV role. Akira's inability to choose his path in life was what led him to be knifed at a drug deal gone wrong by a gang member who'd turned against them because of corrupt police buyouts.

They'd practiced what little choreography there was for the knife fight that was going to be Keith's demise. It was a simple enough fight that they weren't even giving him a stunt double, and apparently the fight was going to be glossed over in favor of a slow motion zoom in on the shock of Akira's face as he fell to the ground mortally wounded.

While Keith and his costar positioned themselves on set, an abandoned side road in a sleepy, border town, Lance stood off to the side watching disinterestedly. They'd gone over what was going to happen a million and one times, Lance was pretty sure he himself could perform the twist-duck-stab-be stabbed maneuver Keith was undergoing.

His lack of interest was why he jumped in surprise when the director yelled quiet on set, and with a sharp crack of the reel Akira's love interest was running in to ask if he was okay. Lance watched Keith's face as he fell into Akira's feelings, unable to look anywhere else even if he'd wanted to.

Akira pushed her away, looking not at her but instead straight at Lance with a tortured expression while he said, "Don't touch me, I'm dirty."

Her shoulders sagged and her face hardened, "You always do this! Can't you see I don't care about that?"

Keith cut his eyes over to her, and Lance shivered as soon as he was free of that intense gaze. "I said, don't touch me," he bit out.

She opened her mouth to reply, but that was the entrance cue for the dishonest thugs. One of them gave a suggestive glance at the girl and laugh, "What's this Akira, you trading girls for fixes now?"

"Fuck off," Akira said, cool and uncaring, but he turned to her and said, "You get the fuck out of here, I don't need you messing things up for me."

She glared, "You're literally bleeding, Akira. Just let me help you."

He rolled his eyes, "And I'm telling you I don't need help."

She crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Lance thought he understood how she felt right now. Keith wore his heart on his sleeve sometimes, but others times it was impossible to know what he was thinking. Lance couldn't help but think if he was in the girl's position, he'd dig his feet in, sit down and refuse to move until Keith told him what was bothering him.

Instead of that happening, she bit out a bitter, "Fine. Do everything by yourself. I hope it makes you happy."

She exited the set and Akira didn't even watch her go, keeping his eyes on the men in front of him. They knew Akira was the reason their last deal had gone south; he'd been doing a lot of dirty work for the Blade of Marmora and the General didn't like it- she wanted him gone.

Akira's eyes went wide as he realized they weren't there for a trade off, they were there for a hit. One of them pulled out a knife and they fell into the choreographed sequence Lance knew so well.

A half minute scuffle and Keith was down in the dirt, one of them on top of Akira hissing his monologue that delivered the foreshadowing for the next season. The director called cut, they changed camera angles, and they ran it again, this time focusing on Keith as he fell and zoomed in tight on his face to capture every whimper and grunt as he was wrestled into the ground.

Abruptly, Keith's mind flashed back to being shoved into the dirt not a month before his high school graduation, being left there and not even finding the strength to stand up until Shiro finally found him, disappointment in the line of his mouth and sadness in the line of his eyes.

Above him, the thug laughed viciously. "What's the matter, lover boy? Fight gone so soon?" He leaned in closer, jeering, "That's the problem with you bleeding hearts these days. You want a happily ever after, a nice girl on your arm to patch you up and keep the light on. But people like you- you don't get the good ending. You don't get the girl, kid. Filthy drugmonkey like you?" He spat on Akira's cheek, "You don't deserve a girl like that."

Akira glared at him, narrowing his eyes and shouting, "I know! I know I don't deserve her! I don't deserve any of it! I can't love her," his head fell back hitting the ground with an audible thunk, "I can't." he whispered, the fight going out of his frame, leaving him limp on the sidewalk.

The thug laughed cruelly, getting off him and saying to his buddy, "That boy ain't got more than fifteen minutes left in this world. He's bleeding out. The entire front of his shirt is soaked."

The other guy shook his head, "He's just a kid."

"If he's old enough to run errands and do dirty work, he's old enough to take the fall."

The other guy winced, "Still.'" He walked over to Akira, pulling out a gun. "Doesn't mean it should be any crueller than it has to be."

The shot was silenced and the prop gun didn't make any noise at all, but Lance still flinched when the man pulled the trigger.

The two men walked off set and the director called cut, sending the crew scurrying around again as they regrouped and saw what was next on the scene list.

Keith staggered to his feet and stood there in a daze, seemingly unnoticed until Lance came up to him, putting a hand on his upper arm.

"You in there?" He whispered, eyes wide.

Keith looked down at him, knowing that this was Lance checking in with Keith, not Isamu checking in with Akira, and he nodded jerkily.

Lance sighed in relief and grabbed Keith's hand, figuring it's what Isamu would do in the situation. He walked the two of them towards the snacks area. Keith could feel the tension in his shoulders draining and the cacophonous ringing in his head going silent at Lance's touch. Lance was doing in an instant what Keith had struggled to do on his own for so long.

He gave him peace like Keith had never felt, and listening to Lance chatter on as they headed towards the food, Keith felt that maybe he could learn from Akira's mistakes, not follow in his footsteps.

~~~

Lance was good at chatter. One of the best in fact. But after the entire lunch break and car ride back to the hotel, Lance was pretty chattered out. He wasn't sure he'd been much of a distraction either, as Keith still seemed adrift in his own head.

Even back in the hotel room, the heavy silence lay over everything like a blanket. Lance took off some of his jewelry while watching Keith out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw him sit down on the bed with shoulders slumped, he turned around.

"Keith, I-" Lance hesitated, unsure of himself but wanting to continue, "I know you might not wanna- wanna talk about everything that's going on, but." He stopped, looking up to see Keith's eyes locked on him, wide and scared with lips parted, "I know you're not all right. And I- I'm here to listen. If you want me to."

The silence that followed was one of the longest and hardest of Lance's life. He held Keith's eyes, watched the minute changes in expression from fear to resolve that led to what came out of Keith's mouth.

"I want to eat biscuits and gravy."

Lance blinked in surprise, but was quick to acquiesce. "Sure. Will room service have that? Otherwise we can order it from somewhere-"

"No," Keith interjected. "I wanna go shopping then make them from scratch."

Lace stared at him in surprise, but nodded. He knew what he saw in Keith's face. If Keith needed biscuits and gravy in order to share his feelings, then so be it.

An hour later and Lance had burned their pop can of biscuits to little brown-black bricks. Keith's gravy was a gloopy mess with only pepper to flavor it because they'd both forgotten to buy salt.

Lance had suggested more than once that they simply order from some late night diner, but Keith would not be swayed. They sat down around the coffee table, Keith leaning against the couch with his legs stretched out in front of him and Lance curled up against the armchair. He took one courtesy bite of the biscuits and gravy before discovering that they truly were too terrible for human consumption.

Keith looked like he was fighting a battle, both with the terrible food on his plate and with himself. Lance said nothing, simply fetching a fresh bottle of water for Keith when he'd finished his first and refraining from offering to reheat Keith's plate after it had surely gone cold.

When one of Keith's biscuits was gone he stopped to take a break, leaning back against the couch. He stared up at the ceiling, hair falling haphazardly into his eyes, and Lance was stuck thinking all over again about how pretty Keith was.

With absolutely no preamble or context, Keith stated, "This is the meal Shiro always made for me when he patched me up."

Lance thought for a moment, assuming Keith must be talking about when he and Shiro grew up together. "Is that something he did often?"

Keith hummed in agreement. "It was one of the only meals he knew how to make. He'd put the gravy on and then pull out the first aid kit. He bought cans of biscuits as often as he bought band-aids."

Lance nodded, ears straining to hear every soft spoken word. This wasn't Keith telling Lance a story, this was Keith speaking for himself. Lance just happened to be in the room and listening.

"The first time I was too beat up for him to patch up himself I was fifteen and he was- I don't know how old he was. An upperclassman in high school. I had a broken nose. He'd found me on a park bench and dragged me to some shady twenty four hour doc so his parents wouldn't find out about it- they were both doctors and would've thrown me out if they'd known, but they were never around the house when I was so it was fine."

"You lived with Shiro's family?" Lance asked softly.

"Yeah." Keith huffed, the sound stilted and tight within his chest. "My mom was- she was gone for as long as I can remember. And when I was eleven my dad." He paused, looking down at the plate and taking another bite of gravy drenched biscuit. "Shiro was dropping me off from where I'd spent the night at his house and. The house was empty. No car. No one in the barn, the tractor and truck both still there. He was just gone."

He looked back up at the ceiling, and Lance could see the shine in his eyes. "I don't remember all the searching we did. I just remember running out onto the main road, which was really dangerous because everyone took that road too fast and Pa was so scared of me being hit- but I just remember running out onto the asphalt, feeling it so hot beneath my feet, and turning and looking in both directions, like I was expecting to see his car or something instead of empty horizon."

Lance felt his own chest tighten. "Keith..." he murmured.

"Shiro tried his best," Keith continued on like he hadn't heard Lance, too far in to pause now, "His parents adopted me and enrolled me in public school but they both worked so they didn't have a lot of free time. I had been homeschooled on a ranch my entire life so I didn't know a goddamn thing about how people worked." He looked down, seemingly unaware of how his hands clenched at his sides, "I couldn't understand them, I couldn't- they were just so happy, all the time- and also so mean. I never got what was so funny."

He gave a sharp exhale that hitched in the middle and picked up another bite of cold biscuit. "I put someone in the hospital my junior year of high school and spent senior year homebound. I was a fucking mess. Shiro kept me sane enough to stay out of any hard drugs but if he hadn't been there I don't know where I would've fucking ended up."

He looked at Lance, "Shiro decided to go to grad school in California because of me. He may say it was the best choice or that he followed Matt, but I was definitely the deciding factor. When we came here he threw me into every sport he could find that I was willing to try and never said a word about college. When I voluntarily joined a dance team I'm sure he went to Matt and cried over a bottle of Pinot Grigio."

Keith let his head fall back against the couch with a thump. "Shiro would say I've changed. But I don't think so." He rolled his head over to look at Lance, "I feel like I'm still just that fuck up kid in the desert, watching the horizon line for someone that won't ever come home."

Lance had been silently crying for a while now. He'd known Keith could be spacey sometimes, adrift in his own galaxy, had thought to himself at times that the boy seemed like he was from another dimension, but hearing this story made Lane realize that Keith had gone through things that no one should have had to go through. Hearing Keith say that he felt like a fuck up hurt Lance's heart with an ache that was entirely new and utterly worse than anything he'd ever felt before.

He stood up, angrily brushing his tears away with the back of his hand, "You're not a fuck up. You're not. Are you saying all of this because of your time on set as Akira?"

Keith stood up too, dropping his empty plate and Lance's full one in the sink, "How do you think I got the part Lance? I'm a shoo in for Akira because I'm just like him! I'm always going to be a failure, I'm never going to be good enough!"

"No you're fucking not!" Lance yelled, his own hands balling up at his sides, "Akira gives in, he pushes away all the people that love him and want to help in favor of trying to do it all himself!"

"And isn't that the smart thing to do?" Keith returned, his own voice raised, "What the fuck else are you supposed to do, let them into the mess?"

"Yes!" Lance shouted, "That's how they help you!" He inhaled sharply, breath breaking on a sob. "We're not meant to do it on our own Keith. None of us are. Not you... and not me either."

Keith froze, unsure what to do in the face of Lance's tears. He looked off to the side, "But then they get hurt," he murmured, so much of that ten year old little boy alone in the desert still in his voice.

"That's their choice," Lance said, voice raw and eyes red, "Don't you dare make that decision for them. What does it matter if you're a mess? Let them help you! Who cares if you're not good enough?"

"I care!" Keith said, taking a step towards Lance.

"Why do you care if you're not good enough?" Lance insisted, exasperated.

"Because I'm not good enough for you!" Keith exclaimed.

Lance inhaled sharply.

"Because I'm not good enough for you." Keith said again, voice soft and almost in wonder that he'd said it.

Instead of answering him, Lance surged forward, grabbing the lapels of Keith's coat and keeping Keith flush against him while he pressed their lips together.

Lance didn't want to dismiss Keith's feelings by telling him that the idea he wasn't good enough for Keith was absolutely crazy and unfounded. He instead wanted to reassure him that Lance wanted him, fervently, desperately, with every bone in his body. Hearing Keith talk about himself that way made Lance want to kiss him until there could be no doubt inn Keith's mind that he was everything Lance had ever wanted and more.

He'd been holding back for so long, unsure of himself and where he and Keith stood, but now he could see that this hesitation hadn't been good for either of them.

Keith was stunned when Lance kissed him, but then all of the want and desperation from the week came crashing through Keith's self control and he was backing Lance up against the wall, tangling his hands in Lance's hair and deepening the kiss.

Lance could feel himself go boneless when Keith manhandled him against the wall, and at the first flick of Keith's tongue inside his mouth Lance couldn't help the whine he pressed into Keith's mouth.

When Lance pulled back for a breath Keith simply nipped along his jawline and down the side of his neck. While the new sensation was tinged with pain and pleasure that made Lance's head spin, he wanted to keep kissing Keith.

He whined, grabbing fistfuls of Keith's hair and dragging him up to his mouth. Keith eagerly returned the kiss, tugging Lance's lower lip into his mouth and evoking another mewl from the boy writhing in his arms.

Their kisses were wet, and filthy, and when Lance came up for air he stared at the glossy shine across Keith's swollen lips. He'd done that. He'd made Keith look like that.

The thought made him dart in for another kiss, but Keith pulled back, voice gone low and hoarse as he murmured, "Let's take this to the bed."

Chapter 35: First Times are Forever Lace Singlet in Fuchsia and Violet

Chapter Text

When Lance's head hit the pillows, Keith couldn't help but pull back and stare. Even after all their time together, Keith was still struck by how beautiful the other boy was. In the dim light of the cityscape spilling in through the window, Lance's body was lit up with an orange glow that made him looking more enticing than ever.

Lance shifted, uncomfortable with the intense gaze coming his way. It made the already uncomfortable situation in his pants even more uncomfortable.

"Keith~" He whined, drawing out the name in an effort to pull Keith's attention back to him.

Keith leaned in, grinning, "Yeah?"

Lance glared back, not liking the smug smirk on Keith's face. He surged up, hands tangling in Keith's hair to pull him down for another deep kiss.

Lance's kisses made Keith just want to melt into him. His head went fuzzy and all that mattered was the slide of Lance's tongue against his. Keith was bracing himself over Lance with a forearm, but he shifted his weight so he could get a hand under Lance's shirt, pushing it up and out of the way so that all of that beautiful brown skin was exposed. As his hand glided over Lance's side, feeling the hint of muscle that kept Lance so toned, the boy beneath him shivered.

He broke the kiss, pulling back to sit on Lance's lap so he could see his face as Keith's hands continued roaming across his body.

Lance gave a sharp inhale when Keith's second hand came up to run cross his skin. His exhale was nothing better, little more than a shaky moan as Keith chose that moment to lean in and suck a wet kiss high on Lance's neck, right behind his ear.

Even though he currently felt like a boneless pile of jelly in Keith's hands, Lance had the presence of mind to pull him off and murmur, "Don't you dare, mullet head."

Keith smirked, looking up at Lance as he skimmed his lips over Lance's chest, "You afraid of a hickey?" He replied, voice a hot ghost of breath that made Lance squirm with another wave of sensation.

"Hickeys, no. Allura, ye- Oh!" Lance's reply was cut off by a surprised gasp as Keith pulled Lance's nipple into his mouth. Lance's hands, which had been resting loosely in Keith's hair, tightened; he didn't know whether to pull him closer or push him away. Keith pulled off slowly, Lance's nipple now hard and pebbled, and sending shocks of pleasure down his spine. Keith, seeing how affected Lance was, leaned back in and gave another slow lick, keeping his eyes on Lance the entire time. Lance couldn't bear to meet his gaze, but also couldn't look away.

Keith pulled back, eyes dark and moving down Lance's body like he couldn't decide what to do next.

"Do you have any lube in your bedside drawer?" He asked, voice hoarse with arousal.

Lance hesitated for a moment, part of him embarrassed to admit he did indeed have lube stashed away, though why he'd be embarrassed about that after just having had Keith's tongue in his mouth was a little nonsensical. That realization led to him nodding, a little shyly, and turning to pull out the half empty bottle of lube and one of the condoms he never thought would be used for an occasion like this.

Keith, settling back on his heels between Lance's spread legs, saw how much of the bottle had been used and threw a knowing smirk at Lance.

"Shut up," Lance grumbled, throwing a pillow at Keith, "Get back to work."

Keith chuckled, for once letting Lance get away with the snark. Instead of replying, he snaked a hand under Lance's hips to lift him off the bed and slide the pillow underneath. Then, he hooked his hands under the waistband of Lance's pants and looked up, silently asking for permission.

Lance could feel the blush rising on his face. "You first,'' he mumbled, not wanting to be the only one naked. His shirt was pushed up and he was about to be naked from the waist down, but Keith hadn't even taken his coat or gloves off.

Keith gave another smile- he was smiling a lot this evening- and pulled away from Lance. He stood up, taking off his belt and shrugging off the coat before stepping out of his pants. Lance was glad he was laying down because the wet spot against Keith's bulge that showed how affected he was by everything going on made Lance weak in the knees.

Keith moved to take off his gloves next and Lance bit his lip to hold back a moan. He also couldn't help but roll his eyes. Keith pulled each glove off with his teeth, and instead of looking like a fumbling mess it was completely, effortlessly hot. Lance wondered if he could convince Keith to keep the gloves on if they did this again sometime.

With a sinuous flex of his shoulders Keith's shirt was over his head and tossed onto the growing pile. Left only in his clinging underwear he got back on the bed, eyeing Lance with a much darker look in his eye as he growled, "Can I continue now?"

Lance nodded, feeling like if he said anything it would come out entirely too high pitched and breathy to be anything he could live down.

Keith's hands returned to Lance's hips, and this time Lance obligingly arched up so Keith could slide his pants off and add them to their growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

Lance looked off to the side as it happened, the blush on his cheeks spreading up to his ears and down to his neck. The fire in Keith's eyes made everything feel so much more intense. It didn't help that Keith was taking his time. Nothing about this felt like a quick romp in the sheets. He'd kissed Keith in order to reassure him of Lance's feelings. Now, feeling the way Keith was touching him, Lance could see that Keith was also reassuring himself. And, with all of his affection being so kind and gentle and relentlessly tender, Lance was receiving reassurance from Keith as well. The way their bodies moved together was assuaging any doubts either of them had.

Keith was so focused on getting Lance's pants off that he hadn't even thought about his underwear. Perched low on Lance's hips was a beautiful design of lace and delicate tulle ruffles in a rich purple that brought out all the warm tones in Lance's skin. Keith gave a sharp inhale and stared, frozen, for several seconds before Lance shifted restlessly, curving his waist and exposing the delicate bow on his side that Keith realized was all that held the underwear on Lance's hips.

Finally, Lance turned his head against the pillow, looking up at Keith with a shy turn of his head. "Keith?"

"Sorry, I just-" Keith cut himself off, skimming a hand over Lance's hip bone and sneaking a finger under the ruffled edging, "You're beautiful."

Lance's eyes widened before he chuckled and said, "You talking to me or the underwear?"

Keith snorted, "Which do you think, genius?"

I don't know~" Lance replied, "Sometimes you can be pretty- whoa!"

Keith had cut Lance off by darting forward and pulling Lance's shirt off. It was only the boy's limp limbs that kept the shirt from ripping.

"Pretty?" Keith asked, "Yeah, you are."

Lance was surprised into speechlessness once again, staring at Keith with vibrant red across his cheeks. He remembered when Keith had left him stunned at the restaurant with his surprisingly good flirtations. He didn't know if his heart would be able to take it if Keith talked to him like that the whole night. Keith, seeing Lance only staring at him in silence, thought that he might be embarrassed again at now being, for all intents and purposes, entirely naked. He leaned in, his nose almost bumping Lance's, and gave him another kiss, sweet, insistent, and warm. Lance couldn't help but smile into the kiss. When Keith pulled back, Lance returned his gaze for a moment before his eyes shifted to the lube, still laying innocuously on the bed.

"So are we going to use that or-"

Keith shifted in a sinuous twist of abdominal muscles that had Lance starting to drool all over again. When he sat back, now with the lube in easy reach, he eyed Lance's panties with a look he couldn't decipher.

"Is there something wrong, Keith?" he asked.

"Nah, I just-" Keith blushed, the color bright on his pale skin, "I was just thinking you look so good in them I don't want to-" he stuttered, embarrassment peeking through, "To take them off to prep you."

There was a pause before Lance burst into a fit of giggles, "Oh my god," He gasped, "Keith, you're amazing." He looked up at him, schooling his face into the most serious expression he could manage, "I have many, many pairs of underwear and next time I will make sure to wear some you can keep on." He chuckled again, enthused by the idea of Keith being so turned on by his underwear.

Keith tried to keep the surprise off his face when Lance oh so casually promised a next time. Though, he supposed there really couldn't be any doubting of Lance's feelings for him now. The comfort and safety that came with knowing that Keith's feelings were returned had him swooping in to plunder another kiss from Lance's lips, their panting breaths echoed into each other's mouths and the wet sounds of their tongues eagerly exploring each other being swallowed up by the plush bedding.

Keith pulled away eventually, snaking one hand down to the tie on each of Lance's hips and pulling.

The panties fell away and Lance consciously focused on relaxing his thighs and letting them fall open rather than clamping them shut. Keith's touches were soft, barely whispers against Lance's skin. At first, Keith didn't even care about prepping Lance or touching his dick, even though it lay proud against his stomach. He was just focused on the warmth of Lance's skin, and how smooth he felt under his touch. He could feel the tremor in Lance's skin at his touch.

He moved his hands ever inward, slowly exploring more and more of Lance's body until he was tracing the junction between hip and leg. He ghosted his hand up his shaft, Lance inhaling at finally getting some sensation on his dick.

Keith heard Lance's gasp and instead of continuing to touch him, he grabbed the lube and poured a generous amount on three of his fingers. He waited a moment for the chill to hopefully abate somewhat before he lowered his hand back to Lance's entrance, spreading the lube and teasing at his hole, Lance watching him with knitted brows. Keith leaned in, murmuring comforting nonsense into Lance's neck as his fingers continue their work. When he finally pushed a finger in, Lance was relaxed enough that it didn't hurt, merely provided another layer to the overwhelming sensations sweeping his body. Lance was so wound up by all of Keith's ministrations that the feeling of one finger within him only had him eager for more. He whimpered, nudging at Keith to wordlessly ask for a second.

The other boy obliged, nudging a second finger in and letting Lance get used to the feeling before nudging his fingers apart in an effort to help Lance relax even further. He could see minute flashes of discomfort over Lance's face, and his erection was beginning to falter. Keith debated getting lube on his other hand too before deciding that the mess wouldn't be worth it and wrapping his hand, still warm and dry, around Lance's cock, giving a steady tug in time with his fingers inside Lance.

Lance had been waiting for what felt like ages for that warm cradle of sensation around his cock, and when he finally got it he had to clench his fists to keep himself from coming. It was too early yet for him to come, Lance had to hold out for at least a little while longer. The dual sensation of Keith's fingers inside him, periodically hitting his prostate, and Keith's hand around his cock, squeezing on the upstroke and twisting at the head, made focusing on not coming hard to do. The dry rasp of Keith's strokes along his length had Lance bucking up into his hand for more, and with every draw back and push forward Lance was also pushing Keith's fingers deeper inside of him.

The sight of Lance fucking himself open on Keith's fingers was enough to make him want to skip prep and just fuck him open on his cock instead. Not too long ago, Keith had stared at all those boudoir photos of Lance thinking that the boy was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Now, he knew that no photoshoot Lance had ever done could compare to how he looked right now. Keith hadn't even gotten his cock in him but Lance was already glassy eyed and open mouthed, huffs of breath leaving him with every roll of his hips as he chased the sensation Keith was giving him.

Keith added a third finger with no warning, just to watch Lance's mouth fall open and hear a helpless moan break over his lips. Lance's thighs were clenching around him, in tandem with the way he was moving around Keith's fingers. Keith removed his fingers and pulled off Lance's dick, making a mental note to suck Lance off the next time they did this, and leaned in for another kiss, thrusting his tongue into Lance's mouth and biting at his lip.

"You ready?" He breathed.

"Y-yeah," Lance replied, a tremble in his voice from how strung-out he was, "I- Keith I'm not gonna la-last long."

"That's all right," Keith murmured, reaching for the lube, "Neither will I."

He sat back on his calves and rolled on the condom before he began to lube himself up. If Lance hadn't already been so focused on making sure he didn't cum too soon, the sight of Keith stroking himself off right in front of him would have done it. The dip in Keith's collarbones brushed by his inky black hair, ruffled by how Lance had been burying his hands in it; the sweat trailing down his pecs and the faint ridges of his abs; the tendon in his forearm that flexed and relaxed with every stroke of his arm- he looked like sex incarnate.

Keith's hand on his dick was the most sensation he'd gotten all night, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep from coming. The slick feeling of fucking his hand was so good, especially with the view he had- Lance splayed out with lube leaking between his legs and precum shining on his stomach- but Keith kept it short. He wanted to come while fucking Lance, not his fist.

He planted his dry hand by Lance's head, looking between Lance's face and his hole as he lined himself up and pressed in. His prep had gotten lube everywhere, and Lance was hot and slick and so so good around Keith, enveloping him and squeezing in the most addicting way possible.

Keith's dick felt like an impossible stretch for Lance. As he pressed in with gentle, minute thrusts, edging his cock deeper within Lance, he thought that he could feel Keith reshaping him around his cock. Keith pushed in so slowly Lance thought it went on forever, a never ending stretch he'd feel for a long time to come.

When Keith hissed, "I'm in. How do you feel?" Lance almost couldn't believe it. The stretch had felt interminable, he felt like he'd been laying there for hours simply being split open on Keith's cock.

"I feel-" he whispered, voice cutting out. He swallowed and tried again, looking at Keith and moving a hand up to grasp at Keith's wrist near his head, "I feel full." He murmured. "Really full."

Keith chuckled, "Flattering, but not exactly the answer I was looking for."

Lance did his best to glare at Keith and tightened around him as payback for the snark. Keith gave a sharp gasp and his hips snapped forward in reflex. Lace let out a keening moan he couldn't help.

Keith panted shallowly before he said, "I was more wondering if you were okay for me to begin actually fucking you, but I think I just got my answer."

Lance nodded eagerly, knowing he wouldn't last more than a few minutes but wanting to feel Keith moving inside him. He turned his head, kissing Keith's arm.

The boy above him chuckled again, "You're cute."

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but instead let out a wrecked moan as Keith chose that moment to snap his hips forward and bury himself in Lance. He set a hard pace, every roll of his hips aiming to make Lance feel it. Keith's first few thrusts were a little slow, and he reached under to pull the pillow so Lance's hips were even higher. Then, on his next thrust, he hit Lance's prostate, and Lance was an absolute goner.

Keith's lubed hand came back to Lance's cock, stroking him in time with Keith's thrusts, and Lance wasn't even trying to hold back the moans and whimpers. He could feel Keith's thrusts moving him up and down the bed, the thought of which made his cock twitch in Keith's hand.

"Keith, Keith I'm gonna-" Lance broke off into another whimper.

"Cum for me, Lance," Keith grunted, his hand mercilessly tight around Lance's cock.

Lance came with a weak cry, his glassy eyes rolling back and his ass milking Keith relentlessly. Lance opened his eyes, a few small tears rolling down his cheek from the intensity of his orgasm, still weakly clenching around Keith as the other boy chased his own end.

The feeling of Lance coming around drove Keith to the brink, and he only lasted a few thrusts more before he himself was also coming, filling the condom and spilling himself deep inside Lance.

They both stayed there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and enjoying the afterglow. Keith eventually pulled out, tying off the condom and stumbling into the bathroom on less than steady legs to bring out a warm washcloth for Lance.

The other boy had gone completely boneless on the bedding, allowing Keith to maneuver his body however he needed to so he could clean Lance of the cum on his stomach and the lube on his thighs. After a perfunctory clean up of himself as well, Keith collapsed into bed next to Lance.

Lance roused himself from his blissed out post orgasm haze to roll into Keith, laying his head on his chest and putting one hand on his sternum.

"That was nice." He murmured.

"Only nice?" Keith muttered back.

"Ok, more than nice. Try some of the best sex I've ever had."

Keith planted a kiss into Lance's hair, hiding his grin against the disheveled locks. "Glad you feel that way."

"You're grinning, aren't you?" Lance muttered. "Smug bastard."

Keith chuckled, running a soothing hand up and down Lance's back as apology. "Hey Lance," he murmured.

"What?"

"Thanks. I- I really like you. I'm not really- the best relationship material but. I want to- with you."

Lance roused himself enough to put both hands on Keith's chest and lift his head up to look at him, "Yeah? You like me? Well it's not exactly as if I have a stellar relationship record either. But when two people like each other, it's only obvious that they should start a relationship."

Keith crooked a half smile at Lance, "We could have done this a long time ago."

Lance shrugged, looking over Keith and out the window, "We're both idiots." He looked back at Keith, "But now we're each other's idiots."

They each shared a soft grin, made softer by the diffused glow of the warm city lights.

Chapter 36: Heart on My Sleeve Delicate Lacy Bralette

Chapter Text

When Keith had first hatched his crazy ass plan to break into the modeling world and show up Lance McClain, he said he did it to show the world what kind of person Lance was.

That wasn't exactly true.

Keith really couldn't even put it into words himself, but he'd loved the supermodel Lance McClain, and those feelings wouldn't have died quietly. Keith had thought Lance was amazing- he drew people in and made them want to be a part of something bigger than themselves. Keith hadn't felt that way about many people, and feeling it for some sexed-up supermodel was something unexpectedly vulnerable for him, like it was too vapid for him to really care about. Even though he'd never admit it, Keith had been embarrassed to like Lance so much and so fast. He had felt insecure about his place as a fan, had worried that it was disrespectful to the model to drool over his legs in a garter belt, thong and nothing else. Keith had worried he was pathetic for spending so much energy on someone he'd never meet or interact with, much less gain anything from.

When he'd met the real Lance McClain in person and heard his diatribe-filled rant, it was all of Keith's insecurities about his fan status thrown in his face by the person who was the very cause of them. That had hurt. It had crushed Keith's ego, made him embarrassed, and also indignant that he would spend this much energy on someone who wasn't worth it. Keith might have told Shiro he was on the warpath for justice, but really it had been a hurt boy lashing out in an effort to have his feelings validated.

Now, many long months later, knowing the real Lance- his dorky nature, his fears of inadequacy, his deep and fervent love for the little family he'd carved out for himself at Altea- Keith could only marvel at the difference in awareness and perspective he not only had on
Lance, but that Lance had on him.

Laying together in Keith's hotel bed, Lance's pristine and untouched since yesterday's housekeeping visit, Keith couldn't believe how far the two of them had come. He'd woken up first, which would have been surprising except that Lance's body was probably feeling the effects of their romp in the sheets much more than Keith's. He didn't mind being awake first; content to simply gaze down at Lance's sleeping face where it lay on his chest, Lance's warm breath ghosting up into his collarbone. Keith would be content to lay there all morning, but unfortunately they still had another two days of shooting on location, then another week back in L.A..

Keith was unsure how to wake Lance, as he didn't exactly have a lot of experience in rousing lovers from post-coital rest. He settled for brushing a hand down Lance's back, and when that didn't work he shook the other boy's shoulder gently. Lance didn't exactly rouse himself but he did nuzzle his face into Keith's shoulder and murmur, "No."

The other boy couldn't help but smile when he thought about how different this was from when they'd woken up together at that Voltron photoshoot, the scent of Lance's shampoo in his hair and Keith so, so very shocked that Lance would cling to him in his sleep.

He shook Lance harder, and when Lance stubbornly continued dozing Keith just shrugged and grabbed Lance's arm where it lay limp over his waist, bringing it up to his mouth and giving it a disgustingly wet lick.

Lance shrieked and scrambled back in bed shouting, "What the FUCK- oh it's you, Keith." Lance looked down at his arm, "That was fucking disgusting, dude."

Keith shrugged, "You wouldn't wake up."

"So you licked me?" Lance cried.

"Good morning," Keith replied, utterly unbothered.

Lance made to shift his body, only to give a large wince. Keith couldn't help the blush that rose on his face at the sight. "Are- are you all right?" He asked.

Lance glared, "I can see that satisfaction written all over your face you know. You could at least try to hide how proud of yourself you are."

Keith pointedly looked out the window, feeling the pink on his cheeks spreading up to his ears. "You said it was some of the best sex you've ever had." He was very proud of himself for not stumbling over the word sex in reference to sleeping with Lance McClain.

Lance's eyebrows went up and his mouth fell open in a little 'o', the perfect picture of surprise. "I- Well okay I guess I did say that but- don't mention it so casually," he finished in embarrassment.

Keith peered at Lance, "What are you embarrassed about?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Lance began, "It was just- I was- You were." He huffed, "You are very good at what you did- do. And you were- kinda hot. So remembering it is also kinda hot."

This time Keith didn't even attempt to hide his grin. It had struck him suddenly, the ridiculousness of it all. Lance fucking McClain, international supermodel, stuttering because of a good dicking.

Lance threw a pillow at him, "Fuck you, Keith, I'm never fucking you again!"

"Never?" Keith asked, "Are you sure? We're a couple now, are you dooming us both to chastity?" The smile on his face only widened at being able to say that, to call them a couple and have it be the utter and absolute truth.

Lance moved to get off the bed, "Yes, dooming us for the reminder of what will be short lives if Allura finds out we were fucking instead of filming."

Keith laughed, getting off the bed and helping the other boy to the shower. Lance came out looking much less disheveled, and Keith ordered up breakfast for the both of them. They ate in a comfortable silence, Lance swinging his feet up to rest in Keith's lap under the table, his polished toes just peeking out from Keith's side.

"Hey," Lance began, having thought of something in the shower that he knew he wanted to make clear, "The- the stuff last night-"

At the look Keith shot him Lance hastened to clarify, "Not the sex stuff. The stuff before that. All the- the stuff you told me about."

He put down his spoon, holding Keith's eyes, who suddenly looked like he wanted to run from the room, "That was really hard for you to talk about. It's been weighing you down for so long with no one to tell it to- I understand now why you couldn't say anything to Shiro."

Lance looked into his half empty glass of orange juice, pulp clinging to the sides of the glass, "The fact that you opened up to me instead, it's. It's amazing."

He looked up again, "You're amazing, Keith. I'm really proud of you for what you did last night. I-" He trailed off, gathering his thoughts, "When I told you about Lotor, I thought to myself 'this is it. If Keith ever wanted to date me before, he certainly doesn't now. No one wants to be with a mess like me.'" He trailed a finger along the edge of his plate, gathering droplets of syrup and smearing them into new patterns. "But you did. You do. And I- I want you, too. All the stuff that's happened to you- I wanna know about it, and share it with you." He reached out with his clean hand, laying it over Keith's. "You're not alone anymore."

Keith inhaled and it was deeper and shakier than he'd like. To have opened up to Lance and be met with such love and acceptance was something Keith had never thought he'd get from someone- much less someone he cared about so greatly. He didn't want to cry first thing in the morning, so instead he focused on how happy Lance's words made him feel. "Thanks, Lance," he whispered, "You're not alone either."

~~~

A little under a week later and on a crew flight back to L.A., Keith was asleep on Lance's shoulder and if Lance was honest, he could tell his boyfriend was drooling. Lance tried to find it in himself to be disgusted, but he just couldn't. Instead he spent the entire flight tracing his thumb along Keith's knuckles and thinking about all thing things they could do together once they were done with this shoot and back to normal.

In L.A., Keith had about a week's worth of miscellaneous scenes, things from all over the season and with all sets of supporting characters, as Keith was the lone wolf playing for no team but his own. Lance didn't think he could get tired of watching Keith run around in tight jeans and black shirts, but after spending an entire morning watching the crew try to get a good shot of him speeding away on a motorcycle, Lance thought he might go mad with boredom. He could only clear so many levels of Panda Pop and Candy Crush at a time.

He said as much to Keith at their lunch break. The two of them had wandered down a side hall a little ways away from the lunch spread and the dressing rooms, hoping for a moment of alone time in all the chaos of the set. Lance was leaned up against a wall, hands on Keith's hips and his boyfriend's face within kissing distance.

"Do you know what?" Lance asked, letting his head thunk against the back of the wall.

"What?" Keith replied, eyeing Lance up like he was debating the logistics of sucking a hickey on his neck without getting caught in this very public hallway.

The rest of the crew was, of course, also on break. Axca, who'd been cast as a supporting character, was headed towards an emergency exit hoping for a smoke break when she saw the two guest stars.

The two of them hadn't been people she'd paid much attention to. She'd met them at the cast meeting, and then they'd flown out for the season finale and she'd stuck around to film on set. But seeing them around today, they seemed naggingly familiar.

Instead of walking past them, Axca hung back, partially feeling put off by the intimate atmosphere between the two but also just curious for a better look at them.

Isamu was smiling down at Akira, who seemed to be waiting for Isamu to speak, "I'm going to be really glad when we get out of here and stop having to pretend," Isamu said, "All this running around in disguise has kind of lost the novelty. I just want to be able to introduce you as 'my boyfriend Keith.'"

The other boy, who was apparently not named Akira but in fact Keith, replied, "I know what you mean. It still feels a little unreal to me that I'm dating Lance McClain the supermodel, because we've been buried so deep in Akira and Isamu."

Axca already had her phone out and recording. Lotor was going to be either ecstatic or livid. Probably some combination of both. Apparently his ex Lance McClain was dating Keith- who she was sure was the Keith Kogane that had left Galra Modelling not so long ago- and the two were doing increasingly bigger projects together. Lance wasn't going anywhere, and it was clear Lotor hadn't broken him. He was not going to be pleased about this.

He was going to be delighted.

~~~

Their last night in the hotel Lance decided they would have a quiet night in with a home cooked meal before they went back to their own apartments and stopped being able to share their daily lives together- though, since they were dating, they would no doubt still be seeing a lot of each other.

Keith emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and feeling very refreshed. Instead of shying away from Lance and head straight to bed like he'd done for so many of their nights together, he joined Lance, who stood putting the finishing touches on their chicken and rice. Feeling a warm swell of affection for the boy, Keith simply blanketed his back against Lance's.

"Well hello to you too," Lance chuckled. "But I'm afraid you got comfy only to have to move again. I'm plating up dinner."

Keith groaned but moved off him, grabbing the plate Lance had prepared for him and carrying his water bottle with him to their eating area.

Lance thought the pouting was adorable, but when he spoke he let fond exasperation color his voice, "Act like that and I won't let you eat this. I have kale in the fridge- don't make me feed you a salad."

The threat of leafy greens sufficient enough to have Keith sitting up properly in his chair, the two tucked in to Lance's home cooking.

However, barely a bite in, Keith paused and started scrutinizing his rice, "Hey Lance, are you sure the rice is the rice safe to eat?"

Lance paused with his own fork halfway to his mouth, caught by surprise at the unexpected question, "Yes," he answered tentatively, "Why would it not be?"

Keith gestured to the spices interspersed throughout the fluffy white rice, "It's got all these- bits in it." He looked like they had personally offended him.

Lance couldn't help but giggle, "That's seasoning, Keith." He gestured airily, "They're spices."

"You can season rice?"

The wonder in Keith's voice made Lance wince, "Your adoptive family's last name is Shirogane, Keith. Are you about to tell me there wasn't any nod to Japanese heritage in your household?"

"Are you about to tell me," Keith responded, "That you think good, honest Japanese folk would season their rice?"

Lance squawked in dismay, "Are you about to tell me they don't?"

"I wouldn't know," Keith replied, a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth at having successfully led Lance on, "We ate pretty much only Western food because Shiro did almost all of the cooking and he never learned any Japanese dishes."

Once Lance was done chastising Keith for teasing him like that, and for living his whole life with plain white rice, a companionable silence fell over the two that lasted until the meal was finished, the dishes put away and the kitchen cleaned. With dinner taken care of, the two retired to the couch in the living room, Lance curling into Keith's side and looking up into his boyfriend's face.

"So," he began, "It's our last night in the hotel. Did you have any special plans in mind for our last night together?"

Keith cocked his head to the side, "Like... a date? No I didn't really think we had a date planned. You said you wanted to stay in."

Lance sighed, reminding himself that his boyfriend could be adorably dumb, "No, honey, not a date, I did want to stay in." He leaned in closer to Keith, "I was thinking we could have a big night in," he breathed, lashes fluttering, "Just the two of us."

Keith's eyes widened as he caught on, "Oh, you want a movie night!"

Lance huffed, "Well I was definitely hoping you'd put on a show."

"What do you want to watch?" Keith made to move towards the remote.

Lance huffed, feeling the last of his patience snap like the elastic band of a thong over his tight, tight ass, "I want, Keith, to see you writhing on top of me- or underneath me, I'm not picky- but at this point I don't think-"

He couldn't even finish his sentence before Keith was on him, thighs spread over Lance's lap and back arched as he kissed into Lance's mouth. With his boyfriend kissing him so sweetly, any irritation Lance felt quickly melted away into arousal. After only a few moments Lance took his hands and guided them to the top of his silky sleep shorts, where he was hoping Keith would want to revisit an idea from last time they'd played around together.

"Keith," he purred, "You can do whatever you want to this pair."

Keith pulled back, confusion clouding his eyes for a split second before it cleared with a look so eager it was almost cute, "You talking about your panties?"

"I am indeed," Lance chuckled, "These ones are all yours to rip, tear or otherwise ruin as you see fit."

Keith stood, pulling Lance with him towards the bedroom, but they barely got out of the living area and into the hallway before Keith's hands were on him again, grabbing at his hips while they kissed desperately.

Lance laughed, "We're not even in the bedroom, Keith. If you think you're going to do this with me pinned against the wall you're mistaken."

Keith pulled back from the kiss, "How did I ever end up with someone like you? What did I do to deserve you?"

Lance reached out and took Keith's face in his hands, "You deserve all of this and more, Keith. I mean it."

Keith gave a heavy sigh, letting his head thump into the wall behind Lance's head, "I put someone in the hospital," he reminded Lance.

Lance hummed, running a hand through Keith's hair in an absent gesture of comfort, the words he whispered coming so easily it was like they'd been waiting behind his teeth all along, "During my time with the Galra I nearly put myself in the hospital. We all have skeletons in our past, baggage we carry with us, but it's not who we are. It's not who you are."

He grabbed a handful of Keith's hair, pulling him away so Lance could fix his eyes on his boyfriend, "Do you know, this whole time I've thought there's been one huge difference between you and Akira?"

Keith nodded like he knew the answer and was convinced of its surety, "Yeah, he doesn't have Shiro."

"No," Lance murmured, "It's not that. It's that he's given up. From the very first scene, he's fighting a doomed fight because he doesn't believe the best in himself." He smiled at Keith, "You, on the other hand? You never give up or give in. You're always fighting for the best, whether it's in yourself or in others."

Keith was so stunned at Lace's words that the other boy was able to dart in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Did you not notice that?" He laughed, "I thought you were the actor, not me."

"I've just never really thought of myself as a fighter," Keith muttered.

Lance laughed again, bright and airy and everything Keith wanted, "Keith, I've never thought of you as anything else."

The mood between the two of them had gone on a roller coaster of a ride. Their next kisses were sweet and unhurried, just soft reacquaintances of their lips done because they could.

When things started to heat up again, Keith pulled away from Lance, pressing one last kiss to his lips as he murmured, "I won't do this with you pinned against the wall. You'll be staying there of your own volition."

Lance didn't get a chance to ask what Keith meant before his boyfriend was sinking to his knees and nuzzling at Lance's sleep shorts with his nose.

"Oh Keith," Lance breathed, realizing what the other boy had in mind.

Hooking his hands in Lance's waistband Keith pulled it down, leaving the shorts to pool around Lance's feet. He leaned in, brushing his lips across the soft silk and lace at Lance's front with a look of reverence in his eyes.

"Been wanting to do this since the moment I got you naked," Keith rumbled, voice low and rough. He looked like a man come to worship.

Lance's hands curled at his sides and his head thunked against the wall as Keith mouthed at the rapidly growing interest in Lance's underwear. He was beginning to think the lace cheeky hadn't been such a good idea because the lace scraped at the sensitive head of his cock and every movement of Keith's tongue had an extra layer of sensation thanks to the cloth between them.

Lance let out a moan he was helpless to hold back when Keith's hand came up to pull him free of the panties. Keith, because he apparently wasn't kidding about ruining Lance's panties, only pulled them down enough to get at Lance's shaft, leaving his balls to be groped and fondled in the now sopping wet and ruined lace.

Keith swallowed him down, his lips wet and his mouth hot with no hint of teeth, only his soft palette and the barest whisper of the back of his throat before he was backing off Lance, only to repeat the entire mind blowing process and take him a little farther down.

Lance hadn't known Keith was this fantastic at head, but now he knew this was how he wanted to die.

Keith's knees were aching, his dick was horrifically uncomfortable; he had spit running down his chin and tears smarting in his eyes- and he was the happiest he'd been all day. Keith loved sucking dick. Something about being able to so single-mindedly chase his partner's pleasure spoke to him on a very deep level, and as he worked himself over Lance's cock, drooling down the shaft and tonguing the thick vein and making sure to moan every time he took Lance to the back of his throat, Keith couldn't help but hope that his boyfriend had many more pairs of panties that he wouldn't mind ruining.

Lance did his best to let Keith know he was close, tangling his hands in Keith's hair and moaning something that was supposed to be words but really just sounded like more of the same mewls and groans he'd been giving all night. And anyway, Keith didn't seem to care, he just looked Lance dead in the eye and slid so low that his nose brushed against the bow at the front of Lance's panties, and that was it. Lance was a goner, pumping his cum down Keith's throat and watching helplessly as Keith swallowed it all down and then licked his cock for more.

As Lance began to shiver from oversensitivity, he pulled on Keith's hair to get him off his cock. Keith stood up, a minor shake in his legs from all the time on his knees, and Lance leaned into him, whining for a kiss.

"You like that?" Keith muttered.

"Uh-huh," Lance hummed. "I think you're going to have to carry me to the bed, though."

Keith gave a smile that was downright predatory, "Oh, we're continuing this on the bed are we?"

Lance gave a shriek as he was tossed over Keith's shoulder and a firm slap to his ass had him squealing as he was carried down the hall. As he was tossed on the bed with Keith stalking on after him Lance couldn't help but think he wanted every night to be just like this.

Chapter 37: Gotta Keep It Together Strappy Underbust Corset in Dove Grey with Low Cut Boxer Briefs in Charcoal or Soot

Chapter Text

Lance and Keith were officially done with shooting. Their first day free of filming they met with Allura. The grin on her face let Keith and Lance know that she was immensely proud of herself, she looked like the cat that got the cream.

Suspecting that their recent upgrade in relationship status might be the reason for her glee, Lance threw himself into one of the chairs in her office and mumbled, "You shouldn't be proud of orchestrating people's lives like some kind of evil mastermind- some of us like to be free to make our own choices, you know."

Allura's smirk did not lessen, in fact if anything it widened, "I applaud your choices, Lance, and I didn't have a thing to do with them." She cut her eyes to Keith standing behind Lance, "Though if I may be so forward I'd like to be the first to congratulate you two on finally getting together." She pulled out a thick stack of paper and let it land on her desk with a solid thunk, "And the first to remind you two that not a hint of your relationship can be public until after the show has premiered. We want the media focused on the show, not you two." She gave an understanding smile to the two of them, "Though I know you two probably want to play it as quietly as possible anyway. Relationships do not thrive in the face of the public."

Lance shuddered, having been witness to enough paparazzi scandals that he didn't want to be the center of one. "Trust me Allura, we're keeping this to just friends and family right now." He looked back at Keith, reaching for his hand, "When we do make this public, you'll be the only one who gets to decide how to break the story."

~~~

Being back at Altea felt almost as surreal as having Keith as a boyfriend. It was the little things that got to Lance, like the way Keith looked up from the dinner invite Hunk had sent out and said, "We going together?" Like it was understood that they would be. Lance didn't know that he'd ever get used to it.

When the two met up with Hunk and Pidge for dinner the same day they'd seen Allura, something in their body language led Pidge to skeptically tilt her head to the side and say, "I thought two weeks of forced cohabitation would leave you two mortal enemies. Instead you look like friends now."

Keith frowned, "We used to be friends." He side-eyed Lance, "I don't think we can call ourselves that anymore though."

Lance squawked, "Don't say it like that!" He grabbed Keith's hand, pulling it close, "We're dating."

Hunk nodded sagely, "Glad to see it finally happened. Keith has gone from wanting to punch Lance's face to wanting to sit on it."

As Pidge screeched about how gross it was that Hunk would allude to their no doubt disgusting sex life, Keith couldn't help but give a small, secret smile as he thought about how far the two of them had truly come. That antagonistic lingerie shoot between the two of them felt like so long ago, and while he would never forget the horror of their cornerstore meeting, the memory didn't hold the sting it once used to.

When Keith next saw Shiro and broke the news to his older brother, Shiro just grinned and said, "You know what this means?" He turned to Matt, with a thick voice and tears in his eyes, "It means I finally get to have Keith bring someone over for dinner." He clasped Keith's hands in his, eyes shining, "I've waited so long for this. I'm so happy for you."

Keith grimaced, "I'm not inviting Lance over for dinner, that would be weird!"

Shiro frowned, "I have his number, if you don't do it I'll text him myself."

Keith held out for all of three seconds before giving in and texting his boyfriend, not wanting Lance and Shiro to become texting buddies. Shiro's texts were insufferable enough on their own with the amount of emojis he used, Keith did not want Lance picking up his bad habits and penchant for kaomojis.

A chime on his phone alerted him to a quick reply from Lance, "Will this Wednesday be okay?"

Shiro smiled, "Sure. Text me what Lance wants to eat."

Keith grimaced, already regretting this decision.

~~~

After only a couple days of downtime, Lance was already booked for another shoot, this one of the Victoria's Secret spreads for their fall line. He was expecting to get called about the Victoria's Secret fashion show any day now; last year he'd been the angel in the Fantasy Bra, but this year he was probably only going to feature in one or two sets.

He knew Allura had something big in mind for the end of the year, and even if Victoria's Secret had approached him about playing a larger part in their show he would probably have said no so that he'd be available for whatever over-the-top secret project Allura was surely planning.

Meanwhile, Keith had let Allura know that he wasn't interested in another gig for at least the next two weeks. Doing a long TV shoot had been amazing, but he didn't think he'd be doing it again anytime soon. Keith was quickly coming to realize that if he wanted to keep dance in his life, fashion modelling was much more suited to his needs.

The two week break would be spent at the dance studio putting together a pole routine and helping with the coaching of the youth team for another hip hop competition. Keith was eager to see them compete; their skills were respectable and he fully expected them to place.

~~~

Lance had met Shiro before. He'd even met Matt before, at that fateful Voltron party. He'd met Keith's family before, so he didn't know why he was nervous. It might be that he was meeting them as a significant other, not a friend or a co-worker. It might also be that Keith gave him the impression that Shiro was very, very excited for dinner.

More than anything, though, Lance thought that it was that he simply didn't know what to bring. Everyone knew that the first time you met the family you brought them a gift- a nice bottle of wine to go with dinner, a box of chocolates for dessert... something. But Lance simply didn't know. The only wine he drank was boxed, and being a model he wasn't exactly a chocolate aficionado. (Maybe after he was retired and officially allowed to let his six pack decline into a four pack.)

When he expressed his concerns to Keith in the Uber to Shiro and Matt's apartment, Keith just gave him a blank stare and said, "Do you want to stop by 7/11 or something? A bodega?"

Lance frowned, "Would bodega wine really be what makes a good first impression?"

Keith hummed, brow furrowed in thought. "You're right, maybe bodega beer would be a better choice."

"No no," Lance shook his head, "That's less than helpful, Keith." He let his head fall against the backseat, "Do you ever bring stuff to them?"

"Yeah," Keith answered, "If it's in the morning I bring donuts and if I'm coming over for dinner I bring brownies."

"Does Shiro eat sweet things? Does Matt?"

"Yeah," Keith shrugged, "They always seem excited to get them."

Lance hummed, "I do know of a Mexican grocery near here, we could bring them some of their pastries. Pan dulce is really good with hot chocolate."

Keith frowned, "Pan Dulce? Is that Cuban? I've never heard of it."

Lance grinned at Keith, "I think it's Mexican?" He shrugged, "It's a part of Hispanic culture I will wholeheartedly embrace. Culture is what you make of it."

They pulled up to Shiro's apartment fifteen minutes late with all the ingredients for hot chocolate and a box of pan dulce. Lance felt his nerves spike the moment they knocked on the door, but when Shiro opened it with a warm cry of welcome and enveloped Lance into a solid hug, Lance felt his nerves evaporate and he wondered why he'd ever been nervous to begin with.

Matt was just finished setting the table when they arrived, and after Shiro had gotten drinks for everybody the two couples sat down to a delicious meal courtesy of Shiro's- and only Shiro's- kitchen skills. After the perfunctory congratulations on Lance and Keith finishing their latest job, and a few small talk type questions about how life was currently going, Shiro chuckled and said, "You know, when Keith first found out about you, I didn't think I'd be having you over for dinner less than a year later."

"Oh?" Lance cocked his head.

"Mm-hm," Shiro was smiling at Keith fondly, who looked like he was about to bury his head in the side salad. "I remember when Keith first decided to go after you- he assured me it was only for revenge reasons-"

"And it was!" Keith interjected.

"Sure thing, Keith," Shiro assured him in a tone of voice that was anything but reassuring.

Keith was glaring at his glass like he wanted to make the water boil, but Shiro ignored him and continued on, "When he came to me to tell me his plan, he had a very specific downfall in mind for you."

"Shiro!" Keith wailed, "You really don't have to do this!"

Lance put a hand on Keith's arm, "Wait, let him finish."

Keith opened his mouth to respond but Lance filled it with a dinner roll. "You were saying, Shiro?"

"I'll remember this forever," Shiro grinned, "Because it was such a Keith thing to say. He was telling me his plan for stardom and specifically mentioned that he wanted you 'stuck in ill-fitting sweatpants that do nothing for your ass for the rest of your days.'"

"Keith!" Lance shrieked, "How could you ever wish that upon me!"

The boy in question could only look, unenthused, at Lance, cheeks still stuffed full of yeast bread.

"That's a fate worse than death, Keith!"

His boyfriend did nothing but deliberately chew on his dinner roll.

"That's the worst punishment you could wish on anyone, Keith!"

Lance's outburst finished, Keith swallowed his roll and said, "It was an empty threat anyway."

Lance looked wound up all over again and ready to launch into another outburst but Keith continued, "There's not a pair of sweatpants out there that your ass wouldn't look amazing in."

Shiro and Matt watched the exchange with fondness. Shiro had always wanted this for Keith, but to see his brother actually so happy right in front of him was surprising to say the least.

After dinner, Keith challenged Matt to a game of Battleship, and the dawning horror on Lance's face as he watched Matt easily agree had Shiro holding back laughter. Clearly, Keith's boyfriend had already been subject to Keith's one-of-a-kind Battleship strategy- if it could be called that.

"Don't worry," he assured Lance, stirring the milk they had heating on the stove for hot chocolate. "Matt always lets Keith win."

Lance grimaced into the coffee pot, "Always?"

"Well, not always, but just often enough to keep things interesting."

"Wow, I didn't know Matt was a masochist," Lance mumbled.

"I wouldn't go that far," Shiro chuckled, pulling out a bread board and grabbing the pastry box. "Matt just knows it's something familiar for Keith that he enjoys, and he doesn't want to ruin that."

"It's really cute," Lance began, "The way you guys care for him. Or maybe cute isn't the right word... heartening. It's really heartening to see. I'm glad he has you guys."

Shiro looked up from arranging the sweet breads, "And I'm really glad he has you, Lance. I have to admit, when this whole thing started, I knew better than to talk him out of it, but I also didn't think it would go anywhere. But it has. It's gone somewhere I could never even imagine."

He stepped around the island, pulling Lance in for a hug, "I'm glad he found you."

Lance sniffed, eyes feeling misty, "Yeah, I," he cleared his throat, "I'm glad he found me too."

They rejoined Keith and Matt to just in time to witness Matt's last ship being sunk. A surreptitious glance from both Lance and Shiro and Keith's board revealed that Keith had only sustained one hit the entire game. Apparently Matt had made losing challenging for himself.

The dessert conversation flowed just as pleasantly as dinner's had, Lance finding out a little more about Shiro and Matt's relationship and being shocked at the fact that they'd never had a ceremony but were in fact legally married.

"Well we got married in school," Matt explained.

"He didn't want to wait, popped the question right before my night lab over cold Chinese," Shiro interjected fondly.

"And we couldn't even afford rings at the time, much less a ceremony." Matt continued.

"And without rings or a ceremony," Shiro said, "Just a trip to the judge's office with Adam's signature as witness, it didn't quite feel proper to call ourselves husbands."

"But since then we've never found the right time," Matt finished.

"That's a travesty," Lance moaned, "You two are the most married couple I've ever met and you don't even call yourselves husbands or have rings."

"I don't really mind," Shiro placated, "It gives us a way to celebrate our tenth anniversary," he smiled.

"Oh no," Lance shook his head, "You are not waiting until your tenth anniversary to get to have a wedding." He gestured at the two of them with his nearly empty hot chocolate mug, "I'm calling Allura about this, just you wait."

Shiro gave a hesitant smile, "You really don't have to go to all that trouble-"

"Shiro," Keith cut in, looking up from the remains of the pan dulce he'd been scavenging, "Let them throw you a party. They'll enjoy it."

As they were saying their goodbyes, Matt threw Keith and Lance a knowing smile and said, "I'll talk Takashi around, you guys just make sure to keep it small so the big guy won't feel too awkward."

Lance grinned, "You got it!"

But on the Uber ride back to Lance's apartment, Keith's boyfriend was texting frantically, and while Keith had a sneaking suspicion Lance's 'too much' gene was kicking in, he didn't say a single word.

Hearing Shiro refer to Matt as his husband might be nice. Keith looked over at the love of his life, chewing his lower lip in thought as his thumbs flew across his keyboard. He thought he might enjoy going from partner to husband, too.

~~~

Both Lance and Keith were back in the swing of things and enjoying the return to normalcy, their TV show taping over and done. By the time final production had wrapped up and PR was releasing trailers for the Blades of Marmora, Keith and Lance had honestly let the project fade to the back of their minds.

Keith had known the show would be big, but he hadn't known just how big. Lance supposed he should have known- Allura's business instincts were never wrong- but even he hadn't expected that with just two teaser trailers out #BladesofMarmora would trend on Twitter for two days straight.

Akira, whose shirtless fight scene had led him to be dubbed #hottiewithabody, had fangirls all over the internet trying to guess who the nameless newbie was, just like PR had hoped. Allura gushed with some corporate executives about how drastic the increase in hype was. Keith started wearing sunglasses and a ball cap to the 7/11. There were already a few posts that had speculated it was Keith Kogane, up-and-coming Altea model, and Keith didn't want to be in the public eye anymore than he had to be.

When there was only a week left before the premier, Allura let him know that PR had decided it was time for the big reveal. Keith's interview was a very cut and dry affair in which he very calmly confirmed that he was indeed the actor cast as Akira and that he was also the Red Paladin of Voltron, brand name copyright by Altea. The interview trended on the front page of YouTube for a full sixteen hours, and kept #BladesofMarmora and #hottiewithabody trending on Tumblr for two full days.

The world went wild. Allura couldn't have planned a better social media campaign herself. She was fielding calls left and right for further interviews and even some other jobs. She turned all of the job offers down and all but two of the interviews, pushing Keith onto talk shows with hosts known for making people feel at ease. Though her favorite masc model might currently be the darling of the public eye, he was still taciturn at best.

In all the whirlwind of TV promo, Allura was making sure that it was Keith and only Keith receiving attention. No one had mentioned Isamu in any interviews, and she'd like it to stay that way. Keith and Lance would announce their relationship when they were ready, and doing it while the world was in love with Keith Kogane's washboard abs was a less than ideal situation.

However, while Allura was making sure that Keith and Lance were able to stay relatively separate in the eyes of the media, the PR team for the Blades was not. As part of the promotional campaign they released a series of behind the scenes and bloopers shots, in which the now-known Keith Kogane acted very intimate with a lean twink who looked suspiciously like fellow Altea Corp model and international superstar Lance McClain.

Allura's first strategy was to simply ignore the stirrings of the rumor mill, and after several upset calls to the PR team she knew they wouldn't take any further action without consulting her, but the damage had been done.

One of the videos showed Lance carding his hands through Keith's hair. Another showed him cradling Keith's face in his hands. In the third and final installment in the series, there was a moment when Keith had his hands on Lance's bare hips, the other boy's tube top doing nothing to stop Keith from whispering into the bare column of Lance's neck.

The videos were sensational and entirely unexplained, meaning that instead of blowing over, people were only getting more and more curious. The videos were crack cocaine to Keith Kogane's new fans, and pure ecstasy to Lance McClain's longtime followers.

Lance had been surprised when the show trended on Twitter for two days. The hashtag #Klance had been trending on Twitter for five. He'd had to turn comments off on his Instagram because of too many spamming him asking for confirmation as to whether he was dating the #hottiewithabody.

Keith very apologetically approached Lance and Allura like the unfortunate situation was somehow his fault, but they were both quick to reassure him that wasn't the case. Keith's Instagram was solely of his dancing in the studio, and with no other social media accounts he was by and largely spared from the media blitz Lance was subjected to. With his youth team's hip hop competition looming ever closer, he was glad for the distance.

With the #Klance fiasco firmly at the center of the internet and with no hope of blowing over until after the show finished airing, which could be months from now, Allura knew they'd have to make a statement. They'd tried to ignore it, but Lance's fans were getting upset that he wasn't saying anything, and at this point staying silent could only make things worse.

She sent Lance an impressively long list of magazines and media outlets interested in an interview, with several singled out as especially good choices. Lance, out of a misguided desire to not think about the problem and ignore it into oblivion, let the list sit on his coffee table for nearly four days. After all, there was no one else who could tell Lance's story, right?

But then, on a sunny Friday morning when he was scheduled to have the day absolutely free, Lance woke up to a call from Allura telling him that he needed to check the cover of Vogue, as well as their YouTube channel, because Lotor had gotten to the media first.

Chapter 38: Fuck It Up Party Panties and Face The Music Bralette Set

Chapter Text

"First, I have to ask the obligatory question all fashion models get asked: Who are you wearing?"

In front of the crisp white backdrop Vogue used for many of their online exclusives, a columnist dressed with just the right amount of statement opened his interview with the face of Galra Modelling, one of the top dogs of the modelling world, and one of the most cutthroat men in the business.

Lotor, wearing a sharply cut suit with thin lapels and a straight leg in a very flattering indigo, flipped his loose braid over his shoulder, "My personal tailor of choice, Locascio and Ducky. They're London based, and I trust them with my life- and more importantly, my measurements."

He gave the interviewer a charming smile that had Lance grimacing as he watched it on his phone screen.

The interviewer, evidently taken with Lotor's charm, preened at the attention, "Well, they get the Vogue approval, you look simply stunning."

"Thank you," he purred, just sincere enough to miss condescending.

Lance wanted to punch Lotor's stupid sculpted nose in.

The interview started with the bland, obligatory inquiries- current projects, eating habits, least favorite current trend- and then the interviewer asked about his love life.

Lance, having a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, turned the volume on his phone up.

Rather than give the standard non-answer Lance had heard Lotor give many times, even while the two of them had been- whatever they were, Lotor sat back in his chair, looking like he had the weight of the world on his gym-sculpted shoulders.

"My love life... Do you know, I've never really talked about it before. But I think it's time I share."

Lance almost didn't want to watch the video. He knew what was about to happen. Allura wouldn't have called him if Lotor hadn't been stirring up trouble for Altea once again.

He wondered how long they'd have to wait until he and Keith could go public with their relationship now.

"I have never been in what you might call a relationship." The tiny Lotor on Lance's screen continued. "For many reasons. Take your pick really- physically unavailable, emotionally unavailable... And after the last person in my life I fear... not emotionally capable of having a real, loving relationship."

Oh, the anguish in Lotor's voice was almost believable. The interviewer clearly believed it, shifting in his chair like he wanted to reach out and give Lotor a Kleenex or something. Lance couldn't fucking believe it.

"Lotor," The interviewer murmured, "Are you trying to tell us there's a reason we've never seen you with someone?"

"Yes," Lotor said, the admission sounding like it was ripped from him when Lance knew he was probably biting his lip to keep from laughing. "If you've loved and lost like I have, you'd understand why I've stayed away from love and from relationships."

"Lotor, I want you to know this is a safe space," The interviewer replied, "I know you came here today to talk about these things, but if you find yourself unable to continue we'll gladly turn off the cameras. But, if you're ready to talk about it, please, tell us... What happened, and with who?"

Lotor took a deep inhale, and Lance clenched his fist on his leg to keep from shutting off his phone. To hear this fucking slimeball manipulating what had happened between them- Lance couldn't stomach it.

Lotor was completely ignoring the camera that must have zoomed in extremely close for the tear jerking close up they were getting, instead looking only at the interviewer, like he couldn't bear to make himself any more vulnerable, though Lance knew he was probably laughing in glee at how the reporter in question was eating out of his hand.

"There was... a new model, who started at our company," Lotor began coyly, "I thought he and I got on rather well. Fantastically, in fact. He and I had a connection I'd never experienced before... But apparently I was the only one who thought what we had was genuine. It turned out that I was, in fact, nothing but a stepping stone to him. He used me, and then when better things came- because of the advantage our relationship had given him, which I should have seen- he moved on. Left. Never showed an ounce of apology for doing so."

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair like he was totally comfortable, though the exaggerated tenseness in his shoulders and the way he was playing with his hair let everyone know that he was extremely uncomfortable. Except for Lance, he knew that he was playing it up for the cameras in the genius ways that only Lotor could do.

"Lotor, I notice in this story you're very purposefully keeping names out of it. Is there a particular reason for doing so?"

"I told myself, when I took on this interview, that it was time to make the whole thing public- including names. But I, I find myself reluctant to."

He looked down in a move that had his hair falling across his face and Lance let out a soft curse. That was one of Lotor's best angles. The bastard was really milking it. "I do still have fondness for him. I don't think the hurt between us will ever go away but-" He smiled at the interviewer, "Lance McClain is such a charming creature I don't think anyone could ever truly hate him."

The rest of the interview was a dull background noise to the static calmoring in Lance's brain. This was bad. This was so, so bad. This was- Lotor was manipulating the story wildly, just enough that it all was technically the truth, but Lotor's own behavior was never questioned. And he'd done it first, so if Lance tried to speak out, he'd look like he was rejecting the testimony, when honestly if anyone needed a testimonial it was him.

The only thought standing out clearly in his mind against the chorus of 'fuckfuckfuck' in the background was that he couldn't believe Lotor still cared about him so much.

~~~

Lotor didn't care about Lance McClain. He didn't give a single shit. Which was why, when Axca sent him a discreet hall shot and slightly blurry video, Lotor was ready to just ignore it. He was pissed they were together- not that he wanted Lance to come crawling back to him, if the boy had done so Lotor wouldn't have given him a second glance- but the idea that Lance had moved on like Lotor had meant absolutely nothing to him- Lotor would not be forgotten. He would not sit idly while they shared vanilla kisses over cheap wine.

He wasn't happy, but he also wasn't going to expend effort on Lance McClain. It just wasn't worth it. Then, however, the trailer for the series dropped, and even more annoyingly that behind the scenes series aired. And suddenly, Keith and Lance were the darlings of the internet.

Everyone was praising the little lovebirds, giving them their blessing and worshipping the ground they walked on. Lotor had had enough of Lance walking away like he didn't care about Lotor or what they had together. Seeing Keith and Lance come into the public eye, seeing that painfully intimate moment Axca had captured that showed this was all more than a stunt for the cameras- Lotor wanted to rip it apart. He wanted to take all the baggage Lance had left behind with Lotor and spill it all over so everyone deserted Lance like the upstart model deserved- And Lotor couldn't wait to sink his teeth in and do just that.

Getting an interview had been easy. Not ever agreeing to interviews meant that when he sought one out the offers came pouring in.

And then, when he'd bared his soul and painstakingly laid Lance open for the entire internet to take a stab at, he sat back, handing out knives for those who wanted to carve a piece. He'd had the lion's share, and now he was the one to open Lance up for others' sloppy seconds.

~~~

Lance didn't know what the fuck to do. It had been two days, and he hadn't said a word. Not on social media, not through Allura, not in a responding interview- nothing.

The internet was chaos. People were ripping Lotor apart for his bad timing and for playing the victim. People were ripping Lance apart as a manipulator and a schemer; they were ripping Lance apart for preying on Keith; they were ripping Keith apart for coming to Altea Corp with Lance.

He didn't know what to do.

Allura said there was only one thing to do. It was time for Lance to go public, for Lance to make a statement of his own, to tell the story he'd always avoided telling.

But that was just it. Lance had spent his entire time since he'd left the Galra very pointedly not talking about it. He didn't want to remember that experience, didn't want to remember what he'd felt like.

He'd chosen to keep that time private, but now, because of Lotor's skewed publicizing of their relationship, his choice was invalidated. Lance knew Allura was right. He knew that if he didn't want to be labelled a villain and a cretin he needed to tell his side of the story.

But there was just one problem- he wasn't sure he could.

~~~

"Hey, you got any plans this weekend?"

It had been the first call Lance had picked up since this mess had started, and he'd only done it because Keith's name on his phone screen had made him feel a little warm inside for the first time since since he'd seen the video.

"No, no plans per se," Lance replied, thinking about how watching watching six seasons of
Queer Eye and crying his way through a box of Kleenex didn't really count as plans.

"Well then," Keith replied, voice kind and hesitant in Lance's ear, "I was wondering if you would like to go to a hip hop competition this Saturday. The youth team I help out with is competing, and I- I thought you might want. A distraction? A chance to get away and not think about- everything?"

"I- sure," Lance said, thinking that maybe spending some time outside with his boyfriend would be just what he needed, "But what do I wear?"

Keith snickered, "You're a fashion model, shouldn't you know these things?"

Lance huffed, "Well excuse me for not intuitively knowing the dress code for a hip hop competition."

"Dress in something that Isamu would wear to a dance practice."

Lance chuckled; their alter egos were coming in handy in ways he didn't think they would.

On Friday morning as Lance stood staring at his massive closet and wondering just what Isamu would wear to dance practice, he found that channeling the confidence and "no fucks given" of his punk character felt good. It felt like slipping on a winter coat after leaving it in the closet for a year- warm, and a perfect fit to weather the rough times ahead.

~~~

Keith had done no less than three headcounts, so he knew for a fact that his team had all made it to the park accounted for. He'd given a spiel about safety, appropriate behavior, and reminded everyone to meet in their practice area a half hour before they were to perform so they could stretch and warm up. For all his hesitations about being the only coach to go to this competition, he thought he was doing pretty well. He was congratulating himself on a job well done when he saw Lance, and he was suddenly very glad none of the teens were around to tease him about the blush on his cheeks.

Lance had taken Keith's advice about Isamu to heart, wearing black leggings that were completely open up the side with only a lace up detailing keeping them together, hugging Lance like a second skin, and a crop top muscle tank that said "Fucked Up and Fucked Out." Keith's own outfit of basketball shorts and the studio's t shirt commandeered into a muscle tee felt very lackluster by comparison.

Lance had given only a fleeting thought to being caught on camera today, throwing on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a snapback but not really caring if some sharp-eyed attendee recognized him regardless. At this point, the entirety of the internet was assuming he and Keith were together, and it wasn't exactly like Lance wanted to prove them wrong. He just hoped no one tried to talk to him if they did indeed recognize him.

However, his fears were for naught. He met up with Keith, watching his very very attractive boyfriend send off half a dozen teens and tweens to run wild in the people filled park, and then the two of them spent the next hour and a half simply walking around and sharing small talk.

Keith didn't ask him about the video, he didn't even bring it up, and Lance hadn't realized how much he wanted to get it off his mind until he looked up, tears in his eyes from laughing at Keith sneezing cherry slushie out his nose, and finally feeling like himself again.

When it was time for Keith's team to warm up, Lance was honestly surprised at seeing the caring, gentle and attentive nature that Keith had for all the kids under his wing. He walked around checking stretches and giving last minute tips to some, and to others he gave words of encouragement and soft hugs.

Their performance was amazing, Lance could see Keith's influence in the crisp choreography and in the aggressive way the teens hit each and every pose with everything they had.

Afterwards, when Keith had handed out waters and had double checked that the kids knew where to meet up again for the awards announcement later that afternoon, he and Lance plopped down in the grass under a tree and took a moment for themselves.

Lance, still surprised at the unexpected side of Keith he'd witnessed today, said, "Out of all the surprising things I've learned about you, the fact that you have a job with kids is really up towards the top."

Keith nodded, feeling a little embarrassed at Lance's inadvertent praise, "I never would have gotten this job without Shiro's help."

He nudged Lance's shoulder with his own, "Here's another surprising fact for you, my first job in L.A. was actually at Taco Bell."

Lance laughed, "Wait really? I totally can't see that."

"Yep," Keith snorted, "And Shiro pulled the same stunt there that he did at my first Altea shoot. He walked in not a week into my being there and ordered the most convoluted things he could think of. After that I wasn't the broody emo but rather the cute younger boy with that handsome older brother."

Lance slumped over into Keith's lap, feeling so much lighter because of the laughter he'd shared today. "Thanks for inviting me out today, Keith."

"Not a problem," He replied, a hand coming down to card through Lance's hair, "It's like I said on the phone- Figured you'd want a distraction."

"Yeah," Lance sighed, turning his head to look out over the park and all the kids and adults dancing and laughing, music rising from all over the park and the smell of good food in the air. "I didn't realize how sick of thinking about it I was until I took a day to not think about it."

"Hey Lance?"

"Mm?"

"Why don't you want to respond? Isn't that what Allura wants you to do? What the internet wants you to do?"

"Allura wants me to share my side of the story- how events really went down." Lance rolled over, burying his head in Keith's midriff, "But that means telling the internet about a super personal and super difficult time in my life." He sighed, resisting the fleeting urge to blow a raspberry into Keith's bellybutton, "And I don't want to do that."

When Lance had rolled over, Keith had shifted from playing with Lance's hair to running a soothing hand back and forth across his shoulders. Hearing Lance's admission had Keith feeling a kindred twinge in his own chest at the pain that came from a rough past.

"You know," He started slowly, haltingly, unsure of what words he wanted to use to share the sentiment he wanted to share, "I spent- a really, really long time not thinking or even talking about all the stuff I left behind in Texas. I've been pushing my bad memories away like I thought eventually they'd just leave."

He paused, letting Lance burrow his head into Keith's shirt like he wanted to hide from the world, "But you know, if you don't share those memories, if you don't think through them and let them pass, they have nowhere to go. They stay bottled up, inside."

He let his head thunk back against the tree trunk behind him, "I didn't realize how much power my bad experiences had over me until I got that power back. Sharing my past with you, and owning up to it, was one of the best things I've ever done. By telling you my story, I took charge of my past. And I really hope you can do the same thing."

Lance peeked out, looking up at Keith and seeing only love and acceptance in the gaze reflected back at him.

"Isn't there some way for you to take ownership of this story? To take all the things about it that have you so chained up and throw them out, so that you're in charge of them, not the other way around?"

Lance sat up, thoughts racing through his head and a smile on his face, "Yeah."

He grabbed Keith's face with both hands and brought him in for a wet, passionate kiss. When he pulled back, Keith looked dazed and flushed, "Yeah, there is."

Chapter 39: Cool And Comfy Classic Panty in Heather Blue

Chapter Text

"Allura, I know what I want to do."

Allura looked up from her computer to see Lance standing in front of her looking like he'd come straight from the gym. Or the night club.

"Complete silence from you for multiple days and now you waltz in looking like you never left and announcing you have a plan?" She leaned back in her chair, "I'm curious."

"Well, I can't help the fact that Lotor shared our relationship with the public, and in doing so skewed it wildly." He squared his shoulders and looked at Allura with purpose in his eye. "But I can help what people get from this story. It's my story too, and I don't want it to be something other people can wield against me. I want to take ownership of it, and turn it into something other people can use for themselves."

Allura didn't even try to hold back the massive smile that broke over her face. This was the side of Lance she loved to see. The kind boy filled with a passion and the will to make a difference. She moved to her computer, fingers hovering over the keyboard, "Who am I contacting, Lance? Who's letting you tell your story?"

~~~

The day Lance's side of the story was set to be uploaded, Allura invited everyone into her favorite conference room for a viewing party. Hunk had brought garlic knots, Lance's favorite, Shiro had brought champagne- when he assured Allura it was nonalcoholic Pidge booed him loudly- and Keith had brought his undying support for his boyfriend.

But Lance might not need it- he didn't seem anxious at all. He seemed excited more than anything else, bouncing his leg, quipping back and forth with Hunk, and never moving his hand from Keith's. Okay, so maybe he was excited and anxious, but who wouldn't be?

Keith had, a little embarrassingly, not known what the It Gets Better Project did or why it was significant that Lance had partnered with them. But after watching several of the videos with Shiro, Keith knew this would let Lance say everything he had to say.

And now, here they all were, Lance's closest friends, his second family, gathered around to show their support for him as he came before the world to step up and empower young people that might be in his same situation.

When Allura's phone dinged with the upload notification, they very quickly pulled it up and soon a gentle piano melody was coming through the speakers and Lance could be seen settling into a wingback chair in a cheerily decorated office space.

"Hey guys, I'm Lance McClain and I- Sorry, what am I supposed to say?" The Lance on screen cut off with a laugh, face bright and open.

The camera cut and Lance was settled back in the chair, ready to try again.

"Hi, I'm Lance McClain and I'm here to tell you- it gets better."

The camera cut again, a three quarters view of his side profile while Lance continued to the camera in front, "I'm nearly thirty, and I've been gay for basically as long as I can remember.

"I grew up in Cuba, near Varadero beach, with a very loving family. Came to the states pretty young, lived with my aunt and uncle for the schools here in the U.S., but I spent my summers back home in Varadero."

The camera cut again, back to the straight on angle, and by now Lance had warmed up and was looking at whoever was interviewing him instead of the camera.

"Yeah, I'd say I didn't really have a lot of problems growing up queer- It was really being a Latino boy aspiring to something more than what other people thought I should that gave me problems when I was younger."

Lance looked down, smiling at his hands held in his lap, "I kept my dreams close to my heart, so classmates and teenhood bullies couldn't squash them before they had a chance to grow, and as soon as I could- seriously," he looked up at the camera with a grin, "I was barely eighteen, but Galra modelling had an open casting call and I desperately, desperately wanted to be a Latino face in the world of fashion culture. I didn't know how exactly, but this modelling call seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"My whole life I'd been so focused on staying out of trouble, making my family proud, keeping my head down and not doing anything that would upset my chances of staying in the U.S. I feel comfortable saying I was still a kid when I went into Galra modelling. I only had one or two friends, I'd never tried any drugs, never gone clubbing- hell, would you believe I'd never worn anything except packs of Hanes for Men?" Lance shook his head, "And, I think pretty obviously, I was still a complete virgin. There'd been a few summer flings but they'd all been nothing but stolen kisses and unfulfilled promises to write.

"So when I signed on to Galra modelling as a boudoir model and Lotor started asking me to lunch, I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I remember thinking to myself, 'It doesn't get better than this, Lance. You've made it.'"

The camera cut to the side angle again, capturing the curve in Lance's shoulders as he looked down at his curled hands again. "But, as anyone who's been in a cutthroat industry knows- young newbies aren't usually welcomed in with open arms and shown the ropes. No, they're usually tossed in headfirst and told to sink or swim. And well- Lotor is the closest I have ever come to sinking.

"I fully acknowledge I should have recognized what was going on earlier than I did. I've seen enough Telenovellas to know a bad man, but- I was young... and Lotor can be so, so charming. And I was so happy to be in a relationship, any relationship, that when he told me I wasn't thin enough, that I wasn't toned enough, that I wasn't putting out enough or trying hard enough or whatever his pet peeve of the week was- I just thought it was the truth.

"I didn't recognize the manipulation, the- the abuse. I didn't realize how much I'd fallen apart until I woke up in a hospital bed because it had taken a team of nurses and doctors to put me back together.

"The physical health issues were easy to fix. And as soon as my contract with Galra modelling was up I left. I can easily say that signing on with Altea Corp saved my life. If Allura hadn't taught me-" Lance cut off with a harsh breath, "If Allura hadn't taught me that it was okay to say no to certain jobs, that it was okay to take rest days and to cheat on my meal plan if it meant I didn't binge later, that it was okay to not be enough sometimes- I'd have ended up right back at the hospital.

"I didn't realize how many self destructive behaviors I'd learned until I had to unlearn them. But unlearn them I did. I didn't do it on my own- no one can," He looked straight into the camera, "You can't shoulder everything yourself, and that's okay. Let your friends help you. They want to."

He sat back in the chair, looking more at ease. "I was at Altea for a little over a year before I landed a gig with Victoria's Secret. A year later I was their first male Latino Angel. And now, last year, I walked down the runway in millions of diamonds and pearls and represented el personas de Cuba with all the sensuality and dignity they deserve. And I'm surrounded by loving friends who only ever encourage me to be a better version of myself. And" he cut off again, a long silence holding until he let out another harsh breath and said in a thick voice, "And I wouldn't know the love of my life, Keith Kogane.

"When I left Lotor, I thought I was broken. I thought I'd never be relationship material. I thought there would be too much wrong with me for anyone to like me. I thought I only had sex appeal and even that was iffy. But, now, over the time I've known Keith, I've come to realize there are parts of me that he loves that I didn't even know existed. And if I hadn't woken up in that hospital bed, I wouldn't know that."

He gave a thick swallow and ran his tongue over his lips, giving a steadying breath. "There was a really long time in my life where I thought things wouldn't get any better, and I thought it was because of me. But today, I wake up every morning knowing each day is going to be better than the last, and I am so so grateful to know that it gets better."

The video cut to a wide shot of him in his chair in front of the lights and camera and crew. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, just like there wasn't a dry eye in the conference room.

"My name is Lance McClain, I'm the first male Latino Victoria's Secret Angel, the first femme male to headline a collection for Chanel, the first gay model for Tom Ford, and the Blue Paladin for the Voltron line from Altea. And I just wanna tell you, things get so much better."

The video ended and Pidge let the room stay in darkness for nearly a full minute before she got up and turned the lights back on.

Shiro and Hunk let out sobs at the same time, Hunk getting up from his chair and swallowing Lance into a bear hug with a watery, "I'm so proud of you, buddy!"

Keith just gave Shiro several firm pats on the back, unable to stop smiling as he was overwhelmed with how proud he was of Lance, how happy he was for him, and just how amazing his favorite model had turned out to be.

After everyone had dried their eyes and Lance had been passed around to everyone for a hug, Allura cleared her throat and said, "Lance, I'm sure there will be many, many requests for follow up interviews-"

"Forget interviews," Pidge said, "I want a party. Lance needs a party."

Lance shook his head, "Nuh-uh, next party spot's already been claimed. Shiro and Matt never had a wedding- can you believe that?- and we're going to have a wedding bash."

"They've never had a wedding?" Allura asked, Lance's media presence momentarily forgotten. "Oh this is just perfect!"

"Allura-" Hunk started, "We all know you enjoy Shiro, but he and Matt are very much married-"

"No no," Allura waved a hand, "I'm perfectly content to admire the artwork from afar- and trust me, admire I do- but my next collection is wedding themed."

"What?" shrieked Lance, "How could you break into the wedding scene and not tell me?"

"Well I was going to tell you eventually," she said, "You and Keith are going to model the lingerie for it."

"It's a wedding lingerie line?" Lance's jaw couldn't drop any farther. "Talk about exclusivity! Allura you're running a ready to wear line and now you're breaking into wedding with a lingerie line?"

She smiled, tapping a finger against her chin, "Are you saying I won't be able to do it?"

"No," Lance leaned into Keith's side, "Knowing you you'll be launching a handbag line in the spring."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Allura replied with a toss of her hair. "But this is perfect. I wanted shots of a wedding somewhere idyllic, Matt and Shiro can have a real wedding and we can use the photos to promote my line. Lance, my office, thirty minutes, we have a wedding to plan."

The emotional energy in the room had gone on a rollercoaster, Keith was still gnawing on the same garlic knot he'd picked up before the video had started.

Shiro looked thunderstruck, standing by the head of the conference table just looking at the door Allura had swept out of.

"You all right there, Shiro?" Keith asked.

"Yeah, I- never better." Shiro replied dreamily, "Matt and I are having a wedding. I have to go ring shopping. We're having a wedding."

Keith chuckled, hip bumping his big brother, "Yeah, you are."

~~~

While the Paladins were all looking on to their next big project (aka Matt and Shiro Getting Hitched), the world at large was still clamoring about Keith, Lance and Lotor. Lotor had refused all further interviews, and there were rumors within the industry that after being dropped from several gigs in case the drama spiraled and gave the brands bad press, Lotor had cancelled all upcoming jobs for the foreseeable future.

Lance had agreed to one press conference, where he answered a multitude of questions- the most surprising being would he press charges? To which he answered no. Another reporter asked if he expected Lotor to sue, to which Lance also answered no.

He knew that while Lotor enjoyed a spectacle and enjoyed pulling the strings, he hated hassle and heavily involved ordeals. That had been one of the reasons why the Galra model had been content to keep Lance on his arm, but never in his heart.

After nearly an hour of fielding inquiries, Allura announced they were through and asked Lance if he had any final remarks.

All Lance said was this, "Our relationship was an unhealthy one, for reasons that stemmed from both parties. I'm happy to say I've moved on and found a loving partner in someone else. I hope Lotor can do the same."

That quote was the headline on every newsite, paper and magazine for the next week. Lance felt so light, feeling like he was finally able to truly be free and move on. Allura told him she'd never seen him be truer to the Lance McClain she knew he could be.

After another two and a half weeks with no news from Lance, who was busy with new projects, or from Lotor, who'd gone to ground without a trace, the press turned their attention to a different scandal, leaving Altea Corp to return to their old shenanigans.

"I'm telling you, Allura," Lance slammed his fist on the table, "Keith only needs to be in charge of one thing- the bachelor party!"

"Actually," cut in Shiro, a wince on his face despite the delicious mimosa sitting on the table before him, "I don't trust him with a bachelor party. Lance, you're doing it."

"Shiro, dude," Lance set his fork down and fixed Shiro with an earnest look, "It's a brother's rite of passage to plan a bachelor party for his number one bro."

"Keith has also never planned any kind of party before in his life and I don't trust him not to just show up with brownies and a copy of Titanic."

"Why would he bring Titanic?" Hunk asked bemusedly.

"Is your movie of choice Titanic?" Allura echoed.

"That's not the point," Shiro said, the tips of his ears going pink. "Lance will you at least- help Keith out? Make sure he can- can execute his ideas."

"All right, all right," Lance shrugged and tipped his chair back, "Say no more, I'll supervise Mullet McGee- he'd probably be helpless without me."

~~~

"Are you sure this is what Shiro wants to do?" Lance asked- and not for the first time. He and Keith were sitting on Lance's couch waiting for Shiro before they started Shiro's party. Although, Lance wasn't sure if you could call it a party if there were only three people, and they were all staying at home. He was pretty sure that was just hanging out. But when he'd asked Keith about what they should do for Shiro's last shebang as a single man, there had been zero hesitation when Keith announced that this was the absolute best thing that could happen to Shiro.

"For the last time, Lance, just trust me. Shiro's gonna keel over from happiness."

Before Lance could point out that if Keith was wrong this was going to be the most lackluster bachelor party in existence, there was a knock at the door and Keith was shooing him over to greet the man of the hour.

"Hey Shiro!" Lance cheered, gathering Shiro in a friendly hug and watching as the other man took in the apartment for the first time. "You find the place okay?"

"Yeah," Shiro replied, "It really is just as close to Keith's place as he told me, I'm surprised- but more surprised at the fact that my bachelor party is being held at your apartment- Or are we going out somewhere else?"

"Nope," Lance answered, watching Keith stand behind Shiro and shift from foot to foot with excitement. "But I would like for you to follow me."

Shiro went obligingly, albeit a little bemusedly, Lance leading him to one of the multiple innocuous white doors at the end of the hall.

"Takashi Shirogane," Lance began, "I have you to thank for my wonderful relationship with Keith. It was through your love of all things lingerie that Keith decided to bring me shame and ruin, and for that I'm eternally grateful."

Shiro's eyes were very wide with surprise, and only went wider when Keith voiced what he had to say.

"Shiro, when Lance told me to plan your bachelor party, I immediately knew something that you'd absolutely love to do but would never actually ask for."

Lance, with a half grin, opened the door to the full size room where he kept his collection of lingerie and said, "Shiro, welcome to my closet."

The look on Shiro's face instantly assured Lance this had been the right way to commemorate the occasion. Shiro walked in with an almost worshipful look on his face, stepping softly like even his sock feet on the shag carpet might make too much noise. He glanced around, taking in the floor to ceiling closets and and custom drawers, the free standing bodices and dress forms covered in leather corsets, exclusive lace teddies studded with semi-precious gems, sets of softcore bondage gear with soft harnesses, evocative garters, and several eye catching collars.

Shiro had owned his aesthetic appreciation of lingerie for a long time. Seeing all of this beauty in person made that aesthetic appreciation come roaring back to life with more passion than it had ever had. Walking around the large center display, Shiro caught sight of a glass case on the back wall. He couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as he rushed forward, barely stopping himself from touching the case.

"Lance, this is your fantasy bra," Shiro murmured, "Angels don't keep their bras, how is this here?"

"That's because it's a much cheaper recreation of it." Lance walked up to stand beside Shiro, "Well, maybe 'relatively cheaper' is a better term. They're Swarovski crystals instead of diamonds. And a much lower grade of pearl."

"Wow," Shiro breathed. "I- this is all gorgeous but. What am I supposed to do with all of this?"

"Tonight, Shiro, my underwear is yours!" Lance announced. "The wardrobes lining the back wall are filled with extra sizes of all the pairs in my drawers- the advantages of being a PR rep you know. Tonight you get to be the Angel, Shiro."

Shiro's eyes looked dangerously misty so Keith stepped over and punched him in the arm, "No need to get so emotional, bro, we know you love us. We love you too. But don't cry on the underwear, it's silk. You can cry once you're done here, we didn't mean for you to spend your bachelor party leaky-eyed."

"I wasn't going to cry, Keith, but your concern is appreciated." Shiro looked around, "Where do I start?"

"Well bra and panty sets are all along the front of the room, panties are in the left drawers, organized by cut and then brand and then color, bras are hanging in the left side cabinets, organized the same, and on the right side of the room are the various teddies, baby dolls, body suits and sets. Long robes are hanging in some of the floor to ceiling cabinets, with masques and accessories above and below."

Lance clapped his hands together like he hadn't just casually downplayed hundreds of thousands of dollars in lingerie, "So have fun!"

Keith didn't think his eyebrows could climb any higher, and Shiro was wondering if there was anywhere he could take a moment and pay his respects to the gods that had made this happen.

Lance started to blush, "Is it too much? Is this weird?"

"No, no," Keith reassured him, "We've just never seen the closet of a supermodel before."

Shiro hastened to agree with him and Keith ushered Lance over to a pair of plush overstuffed armchairs sitting in front of a huge vanity covered with makeup and jewelry. With the two of them out of the way, Shiro meandered over the set of drawers closest to him and opened the top drawer. Pulling out a silky black panty that slipped like water through his hands Shiro cut his eyes over at Lance.

"I think I recognize this pair. Didn't you do a pool shoot in the south of Spain for-"

"Fleur of England?" Lance finished, "Yes I did. You have a good memory."

A few drawers over Shiro gasped and dropped the garter he was holding back into the drawer, "I didn't know you'd modelled for La Perla!"

Lance nodded, "That was something Allura hooked up for me. They did a his and hers black and white collection and apparently they thought my skin would really pop against the white. Though they liked me a lot in the black too. I think there's a baby doll hanging in the top half of that cabinet."

The three had a good time that night, Shiro picking Lance's mind about the shoots he'd done and seeing all the beautiful things Lance had collected over his career, eventually agreeing to try on some Agent Provocateur pieces. When Keith stumbled upon Lance's custom Catherine D'Lish robe- a huge Marabou with billowing bell sleeves and the softest fur trimmings in a beautiful light blue- they of course hustled Shiro into it, and after Lance brought out the drinks they fell into a giggly impromptu photo shoot and dress up night. They took silly, slightly tipsy selfies, throwing lingerie sets at each other with laughing encouragements to 'go put it on! Go go go!'

Shiro's military physique and generally masculine presentation meant he'd never gotten to do anything even remotely close to this, but standing patiently while Lance spread the D'Lish robe around him and then ran to his camera for some photos felt... fun. Light hearted. Easy and soft in a way Shiro had never gotten to experience before. Keith was right, this was something he never would have chosen for himself, but he was infinitely grateful to Keith for asking Lance to do this. Even if Shiro wasn't one to buy lingerie, playing dress up like this was definitely on of the funnest nights he'd had in a long time.

Finally, some time that was closer that was closer to early morning that late night, Shiro Keith and Lance had collapsed in Lance's bed, all of them wearing silky PJ's and fluffy robes and hissing to each other to go turn the bathroom light off. They were tipsy, Lance's lingerie room was a disaster zone, and Lance had filled a memory card and a half with pictures of the three of them prancing around like giggly idiots in thousands of dollars in lace and chiffon.

"You ready to get married, Shiro?" Lance whispered.

"You ready to put on a wedding, Lance?" Shiro whispered back.

"Hell yeah. I've been waiting for this since I attended my first wedding back when I was like twelve."

Shiro chuckled, "And I've been ready to marry Matt since the first time he came in to see me patching Keith up and just stepped right in to help."

"Shuddup," Keith murmured, "You're bein' soft. It's gross."

Shiro rolled over and snagged Keith into a headlock, giving him a vicious noogie. Keith shrieked and jabbed his fingers under Shiro's arm, making his brother seize up in a laughing fit and let him free.

They fell asleep way too late, after an evening spent being childish and carefree, and while it was far from what most men would envision for a bachelor party, Shiro wouldn't have had it any other way.

Chapter 40: Matching Briefs in Bridal White

Matt loved Shiro. And Shiro loved Matt. The two were college sweethearts, having been friends and roommates their first two years, lovers the last two, and by the time they graduated everyone thought of them as a matching set.

Which was why it had struck everyone as so strange when it was revealed that Shiro and Matt had never had an actual wedding.

Allura, being a paragon of self-possessed and understated luxury, rented out an entire private island off the coast of Hawaii for the ceremony. Shiro and Matt, their friends from Altea, from college, from work, and even most of their extended family, had happily agreed to be flown in for what was no doubt going to be a beautiful union.

Lance was the one who ended up crying the most. In the three days of on site prep for the ceremony, he broke down no less than once every three hours. (Pidge won that bet and even at the very end no one was quite sure how big the betting pool had been.)

The weather was beautiful every day leading up to the ceremony, and on the big day itself. Hunk had said multiple times that they had the weather to thank for the beautiful rise on Shiro and Matt's wedding cake.

Allura had designed the tuxedos Shiro and Matt wore, details scattered throughout the suits that mirrored the matching lingerie line Lance and Keith would shoot as soon as they were back in L.A..

The ceremony was held in a beautiful open air gazebo the size of a cathedral, and capable of seating a congregation far more fervent and joyful than any religious function could hope to merit. It was just off the beach, nestled in verdant greenery with flowers spilling out from every possible nook and cranny, courtesy of Lance's carefully curated color palette. The waves breaking on the shore provided soft background noise in lieu of an organ or choir, and Coran stood in front of the eager onlookers in his very best corduroy bowtie.

Matt stood at the head of the aisle, dapper in his tux and waiting for Shiro with the biggest smile on his face. Pidge, standing next to him as best man, nudged him none too gently in the ribs and muttered, "You might want to hold off on the grinning, you have a whole day of smiles ahead of you."

"Shut up, Pidge," Matt replied fondly. "This is worth smiling for."

Shiro's tears started the moment he rounded the corner and saw Matt waiting for him at the other end. Keith, the one to walk him down the aisle, knew this would happen and pressed into Shiro's prosthetic hand the handkerchief he'd brought for just this reason.

Lance, seated in the front row next to Allura, smiling so wide he thought his face might break, pulled out his phone and started snapping pictures of Shiro and Keith, framed by the tropical lilies and in a tux as white as his forelock.

He knew the photographers would be capturing everything, and no doubt the drones overhead would be getting beautiful panoramic shots, but this was just something for himself he wanted to look back on after the fact and know that he was partly responsible for its happening.

Coran, in his beautiful bow tie and resplendent mustache, officiated the ceremony with a heartfelt address that was only surpassed by the heart achingly sincere vows given by Shiro and Matt, remembering the good years they'd already had and promising to be with each other for many, many more.

When it was time for the rings, Keith stepped forward. He'd initially rejected to being both man of honor and ring bearer, but when Shiro asked him personally, Keith couldn't say no.

Shiro's crying, which had calmed down during the ceremony, started up again in full force when Matt leaned down and kissed the ring he'd just slipped over his finger. Matt laughed at Shiro's tears, brushing them away with the back of his hand and leaning in close to whisper something that made Shiro give a hiccupy laugh.

The two of them were so stupidly in love, Lance couldn't get enough of it.

After the ceremony there was the onsite reception, where the army of Hunk's caterers that had spent the week under his tyrannical rule brought out platters of finger foods that were every bit as beautiful as Lance's decorations and well worth the hell the caterers had been put through.

Shiro and Matt sat at the head table, together with Allura, Lance, Keith, Pidge, Hunk, and Coran, though the fashion designer spent a lot of his time waltzing around socializing with absolutely everybody who'd shown up at the wedding. Shiro and Matt spent their time gazing into each other's eyes and drinking out of the same champagne flute.

Everyone else at the table let it happen, happy enough for the couple on the big day that they were willing to let the two of them exist in their own little tipsy bubble apart from the increasingly drunken goings on.

Allura realized that in hindsight, the free wet bar may not have been as good of an idea as she and Lance had initially thought it had been. The bar, combined with the alcoholic punch and flutes of champagne that were passing around the tent, had gotten the wedding guests very tipsy very quickly. While she hadn't planned on dinner being served until six, and the speeches not being given until after dinner, she realized that with Pidge's low alcohol tolerance the genderqueer shortie only had about a half a cup of punch left before she would be too drunk to give her speech.

Allura stood, tapping her glass to get the crowd's attention. Once everyone was quiet, she gave a few brief opening words about how the ceremony had been as beautiful as the relationship it was for, and how if everyone would like to listen, she'd like to allow the man of honor to say a few words.

Pidge stood, balancing precariously in the seat of her chair so that she was tall enough to actually be seen and heard, and pulled out her notecards from an inner pocket of her suit.

"Long ago in a galaxy far, far away, two nerds happened to share a chemistry lab..."

Allura didn't listen to the rest, slipping away to let the caters know they were to begin serving dinner. By the time she made it back, Pidge had moved to the table, together with Matt who was hugging her while she sputtered through tears, "I-I just- I don't know if any of us would be here if it wasn't for Shiro- and, and Shiro wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

Lance was unabashedly crying, holding Shiro's handkerchief to his face while Shiro dabbed at his eyes with the tail of Matt's tux, conveniently hanging in front of him because of Matt's position on the table.

Allura huffed. She left them alone for five minutes and suddenly everyone had gotten misty eyed. Didn't they know this was supposed to be a happy event?

She hoisted herself up onto the table as well, thanks to a helping hand from Hunk, and ushered Matt and Pidge back into their seats. Looking back out to the onlookers, Allura noticed many of them were crying, too.

Well, she guessed that Pidge's speech couldn't have been that bad.

When Keith insisted on getting up on the table to give his best man speech, Allura knew it was time to just sit back and let the night unfold. Once up on the table, Keith revealed an intricately carved set of knives that he simply presented to Shiro with the ominous comment, "If you ever need me to use these, just say the word."

Lance promptly pulled him off the table and proceeded to lecture him in a slurred mixture of irate Spanish and English that this was far from an appropriate wedding present, and the fact that he didn't let Lance know what his gift was going to be meant he knew that, and if Keith knew that why did he do it anyway?

Keith pretended not to hear Lance, innocently looking off to the side and downing a bright blue cocktail presented to him by a passing waiter.

Allura thought to herself that while the speeches weren't exactly magazine spread material, they definitely could have gone worse, and this part of the wedding would probably not make it into the advertising spreads anyway.

After a beautiful dinner service for which everyone gave Hunk the sort of effusive praise that only very drunk people can give, Shiro stumbled to his feet, announcing that it was time for the bouquet toss.

Lance, slumped against Keith off to the side yelled, "You don't have a bouquet!"

Shiro looked stumped by this for a moment, before he proceeded to rip off his jacket and struggle to unbutton his shirt, getting his prosthetic arm free enough to detach from his shoulder and somberly pronounce, "I don't have a bouquet, but I do have an arm. Whoever catches this is getting hitched next."

Pidge, already slumped so far down in her seat she was nearly under the table, raised a glass of something and shouted, "Yeet!"

He threw it, Matt reaching up to abort the potentially disastrous moment only in time to lessen the force of Shiro's throw, causing it to hit a waiter's tray and slide to a stop in front of Lance.

He grinned, picking up the prosthetic limb and looking over at Keith like the cat who got the canary, "Hey Keith, I think I need a hand."

Keith looked back at Lance, not having a clue where his boyfriend was going with this. Lance continued, "Can I have yours- in marriage?"

Keith was absolutely stunned for a single glorious moment, before his entire face went bright red and he sputtered, "You- you're- you're drunk."

Lance swayed back and forth, holding Shiro's arm like a baby, "And you're very, very pretty."

Somehow, the arm ended up with Hunk, who was seated beside the buffet table and cradling it like a prized tuna. Matt took the arm back, but didn't manage to actually get Shiro to put it back on. Pidge distracted her brother by challenging him to another drink off- this time, not with alcohol, but the chocolate fondue fountain.

Allura let it happen, sipping her appletini and watching Pidge chug a champagne flute of melted chocolate as handed to her by Lance. Allura didn't think it was possible to make binge drinking look sexy, but if the glazed look in Shiro's eyes said anything, Matt's greedy gulping and will to win were doing terrible terrible things to him.

Lance and Keith were witnesses to the terrible terrible carnage of the chocolate drinking battle, but they didn't make any scenes of their own until the band, which had heretofore been playing very restrained and stately wedding appropriate music, switched to the sort of faster paced tempos Lance remembered from his time taking dancing lessons with Keith.

He sidled over to his one-time dance coach, throwing a hand over Keith's shoulder and murmuring into his ear, "You know Keith- you gave me all those dancing lessons, and they sure haven't been put to much use."

Keith eyed Lance with something dark and sensual in his gaze, and the next thing Lance knew he was being whirled around the dance floor in moves that were raw sex and unlike anything they'd done in class. It turned out that when Lance got drunk enough all his two left footedness went away, the moves becoming something he wasn't really thinking about, simply following Keith's lead in. This meant that Keith's feet were mercifully spared, but also that he was able to move Lance through spins and dips that had the other boy's heart fluttering.

By the time the party had wound down enough for people to start going home, all of the paladins were lagging, but Hunk was the one to duck out first, leaving with a girl named Shay that neither the paladins nor Matt nor even Coran remembered inviting. They asked Allura about her to which she mysteriously only responded, "She's supposed to be here."

Pidge was the next to go, led to her room by a well-meaning and somewhat tipsy Coran, her tie lost somewhere in the pavilion and chocolate stains heavy on her shirt, drunkenly repeating in tandem with Coran, "Coran, Coran the gorgeous man!"

Allura was the one to lead Matt and Shiro back to their honeymoon suite, leading the newlyweds down a secluded path to the catcalls and whistles of the remaining party goers.

Keith and Lance didn't remember how they ended up back in their room, but somehow they woke up the next afternoon to the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, and a pleasant satisfied ache in both of their lower backs.

~~~

A week later the modelling crew of Altea Corp. was mostly recovered from the sumptuous wedding and Allura was able to bully them into coming in to her office for a group viewing of the wedding photos. Her photographers had given her a nearly impossible turn-around, but she wanted the writeup to feature in the next issue of Vogue and she was not about to miss a deadline.

Shiro had returned from his honeymoon with Matt literally the night before the meeting, and as such was a stubbly, sweatpants wearing mess.

When he stumbled into Allura's office five minutes late and looking rather bleary, Lance wolf-whistled, "Damn Shiro, you got some, didn't you, dude?"

Keith elbowed him harshly, "Lance," he hissed, "Takashi's married now, you can't just say things like that."

Lance snorted, "He and Matt have been as good as married for a very long time, and I gotta be honest, there is not a force in hell nor heaven that could keep me from occasionally commenting on that rockin' bod and what he gets up to," Lance turned to Allura, "Back me up on this?"

She nodded sagely, steepling her fingers, "Fine art needs an audience to be properly appreciated, and I've requested a 24/7 pass to view Shiro in those sweatpants."

Shiro, who'd been standing at the Keurig in Allura's office during this conversation, now turned to look at the two guilty parties and his younger brother.

"Lance, don't make Keith uncomfortable," he scolded. "Allura, good to see you again."

Lance huffed at the blatant favoritism, and from off to the side Pidge cackled, "Oh man, marriage has made Shiro sassy!"

Hunk patted Lance on the knee sympathetically, "He does look very nice today, Lance, you're right. But maybe don't say that while holding hands with your boyfriend."

Keith nodded, "Thank you!"

Allura let the chaos wash over her, enjoying the hubbub in her normally quiet office, but when it looked like Lance and Keith were close to either punching each other or kissing each other, she cleared her throat, "Anyway, I wanted you all to see the photos of the wedding and see which I've approved for publishing as a sort of proprietary quality check." She turned her head to side-eye the Paladins assembled before her, "Please note that you opinions will have no say, but I wanted to extend the opportunity as a sheer courtesy."

Used to Allura's imperious attitude, the paladins amicably agreed and she proceeded to pull up the images, screen-sharing them to the TV on her wall so everyone could get a good look. The very first one she opened was, to everyone's surprise, not Shiro and Matt together, or even one of them individually. It was, instead, a photo of Lance and Keith looking devoutly into each other's eyes, sharing a secret smile about something at the altar before the ceremony had even started.

Lance was a bit surprised to see such a photo, but it was a nice shot, and he figured if it was one of the first photos of the day it would make sense that it came first. But the next two photos were also of Lance and Keith, one of Lance using his phone to get Keith walking down the aisle and another of Keith watching Lance cry with a warm fondness in his eyes.

Everyone in the room was increasingly surprised, with Hunk and Pidge sharing several heavy side eyes and Lance looking back and forth between Allura and the TV with increasing amounts of confusion. Even Shiro sat up straight and shook himself out of his post-honeymoon exhaustion, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees and one hand scratching at his stubble. The only one who didn't seem surprised was Keith, who remained slumped in his chair with legs spread out in front of him, paying little attention to Allura's discussion of each photo and instead smirking at Lance's face.

While there were certainly beautiful photos of Matt and Shiro, there was a definite emphasis on photos of Lance and Keith- shared smiles, covert glances, tender moments. Their love story was interwoven with the love story of Matt and Shiro, showing two different couples. The photographers were telling the story of a young couple in love and wanting to marry and an older couple consummating their love and actually getting married.

There weren't that many photos, currently about twelve which would be further pared down to only six or so when interspersed with the lingerie photos Keith and Lance had yet to shoot, but Lance felt like he'd witnessed a total story in those twelve photos.

Finally, after she'd clicked through the last of them and turned to the group, Allura smiled. "I didn't go into the wedding with this idea, but after looking through the initial hundreds of photos this theme emerged and I loved it too much not to use it."

She walked out from behind her desk, taking Lance's hand in one of her own and Shiro's in her other, "Both of your relationship have been through so much, and Lance your trial was especially recent. When I saw this testament to the love you all hold in your heart for your significant others, I couldn't pass it over." Her smiled widened, and Lance felt his eyes going misty, "Your love is art, and the world deserves to see it."

"You've outdone yourself again, Allura," Lance said, refusing to acknowledge that his voice was a little thick. "This is beautiful- you made us beautiful. Keith and I, and Shiro and Matt. I can't wait to see these published."

"Neither can I," she replied.

"For what it's worth, I think they're cool too," Hunk called.

"Yeah!" Pidge interjected. "Very cool, very gay, very Vogue!"

"I like it, too, Allura," Shiro chimed in, "I can't wait to show Matt."

Lance squeezed Keith's leg, "What do you think of it, mullet head?"

Keith hummed, "I love it," he replied, "I've never seen what we look like from the outside in before, but somehow I'm not surprised that that's what it looks like."

Lance sniffed, "Keith..."

I do have one question though," Keith turned to Allura, "What are you gonna do with all the video footage?"

She grinned, "Oh, we got no less than four different angles of Lance's drunken proposal to you."

Keith grinned, sitting up slightly, while Lance's ears went bright red.

"We're using that footage in the TV ads." She sat down at her desk again. "We're hoping to air them during the Victoria's Secret fashion show this year, so essentially all of Lance's biggest fans will see him proposing in glorious drunken fashion."

Lance began wailing rejections to this idea, while Keith just laughed, enjoying the idea of their relationship, which had started so small, would now become so big.

(i'm so sorry about that again, guys! please enjoy regardless!)