There, nestled against my pulse

Chapter 7

Things don't really change much, once Keith realizes he's fallen half in love with Lance, somewhere along the way.

If anything, their dynamic fixes into place, cementing exactly into what Keith wished it would, at the start of all this.

They hang out more—just for fun.

They actively seek each other out to go swimming in the pool; to explore the dusty, rediscovered game room; to drag the other into Coran's chores, because if one has to suffer, the other does too. After practice, they lounge on the couch and happily argue over who had a higher bot count or who managed to pull more faces behind Shiro's back without him noticing. They stake out the kitchen half an hour before mealtimes, waiting for Hunk to let them in so they can wrestle over the most appetizing-looking dish, with him watching, resigned, in the background.

And every other night, they lie together on the dais and learn the names of the endless skies.

The best thing, though, is that if the Coalition needs a minor mission to be done, Shiro sends Keith and Lance out more often than not. Every time they come home with satisfied smiles and completed mission objectives, Keith lies in bed and thinks about how cool they were for hours.

"You guys get things done really quick," Shiro explains one day. "It's probably because you're both stupidly competitive to the point of recklessness, but—well. I think a year fighting an overgrown, fuzzy eggplant has curbed that a little, don't you?"

Keith squints, unsure. "...You mean fighting Zarkon?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Shiro replies. He reaches out to scrub a hand in Keith's hair. "I'm really proud of you buddy. It only took about four years, being drafted into a space war, piloting a mecha cat that becomes a mecha man like this is some sort of mecha anime, and my nightly prayers to every single deity I know, but you've finally made a friend on your own! I can bring a positive report back to Iverson, now."

"I'm leaving," says Keith. "Bye."

"We're stranded on an island with man-eating fish around us, and our mecha cats are hungover from druid magic, kiddo. But sure, take those five steps to the other side of this tiny circle of sand, I'll pretend you aren't even here." Shiro crosses his arms behind his head. "If I close my eyes, it'll be like a nice vacation to the Bahamas."

"Would you stop saying mecha cats. Red keeps swearing at you really loudly and it hurts my head."

"How does Red know swear words, he's a mecha cat—"

"Shiro, I will gut you."

"Is this you speaking, or is Red using your mouth to talk with his super cool mecha telepathy—Keith, put that down or I'll express-mail you to Zarkon in a cardboard box."

Dumb brother-figures aside, Keith doesn't think he's ever felt this content before.

It's nice.

Sure, they could die any day out here, but he's—he feels good. Free, but also grounded—in a good way, that he didn't know could be possible, until he found this team. Until he found someone like Lance, to have as a partner; an actual rival; a quiet, innocent crush; and an honest-to-god friend.

He's half in love, yeah, but Lance will find 'Mrs. Blue Lion' one day and it'll be...good, to see Lance get the happiness he deserves.

Keith's just glad to have this, for the while that he's allowed it.