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"Hey, Black! You big idiot!" Keith shouted at the giant Lion, who roared in response at the sight of Keith, Lance, and the two other Lions. The metallic beasts sprung to life, chasing each other among the dunes, shaking the ground as they tackled each other and roaring so loudly Keith had to cover his ears.

Lance stood next to Keith, frankly bewildered at the Lions' sudden liveliness. "It's like they're real lions," he said quietly, almost laughing as Blue swatted Red's tail.

Keith turned to look at Lance. The setting sun was familiar and beautiful, something Keith hadn't expected. It was that time of day that Lance called 'golden hour' and now, finally, Keith realized why. Lance's skin was illuminated from the regular rich caramel to glistening amber, his hair blown back from his forehead from the light breeze and his eyes turning from the color of blue sea glass washing in with the tide to shards of aquamarine crystals.

Keith had to look away- he hoped the golden sunlight would hide his blush. After what had happened last night, Lance curled up in Keith's arms, sleeping soundly as Keith rubbed his back... were things different now? Keith didn't want to be too forward and ask, but he was curious, desperately so.

"Holy shit," came a familiar voice behind the two Paladins. They turned in sync to see Leandro and Akira watching the Lions as well, Akira's hands on his hips, obviously impressed.

Leandro grinned. "So, are you guys gonna tell us where you and these bigass Lions are from?" he asked playfully, walking towards a large truck that was parked by the dunes, assumably his car, "or are we going to have to pay for dinner first?"

...

The noodle bar was, for lack of better words, peak aesthetic. The interior was neat and tidy, but it was just as bright and futuristic as the city outside. Large neon signs hung on the walls, spelling out things like 'take it easy' and 'enjoy' and, aside from the strings of fairy lights that were haphazardly strung across the walls and ceiling, they were the only light sources.

All along the walls were photos hanging in cheap frames and cutouts from magazines and torn news articles with headlines that both frightened and intrigued the Paladins. They sat at the bar with Akira and Leandro and other patrons to the restaurant sat at the low tables scattered about the floor.

Looking over the other diners, Lance felt a little intimidated. Like Leandro and Akira, most had holstered weapons, all foreign to him and all dangerous-looking. The table closest to the bar sat a man wearing a stained tank top under a denim jacket with its sleeves cut off to expose his bulging and tattooed biceps across from a woman dressed in a minidress with her messy hair obscuring his face and neither talked, but they shared a bottle of absinthe between them.

Lance looked away to Keith, who was wearing one of Akira's spare shirts since his own had been ripped by the lasers. Lance hadn't seen the wounds that Keith suffered from as Akira had immediately covered them up in gauze and bandages, but they didn't look like 'just grazes' as Keith had brushed them off to be- they looked bad.

Keith winced as he moved, reaching for the glass of hard soda the bartender had handed each of them and Lance looked away, feeling guilty. Keith had always wanted to protect him. He'd always been the one to make the plan, to calm him down when he got upset, to be an anchor when Lance felt like there was no one else in the world.

And no Keith was hurt because Lance hadn't thought that there would be sharpshooters on the roof. Sharpshooters, his own specialty. They wouldn't have been able to fight back because they'd left their bayards in the Lions with their other weapons, but Lance could have at least come up with a plan to shield them or at least attempted to protect Keith.

And it wasn't just that- Lance was beginning to feel the guilt he had carried with him from the After. The guilt of shutting down completely to his friends, to his family, to his duty as a Paladin. Everyone else went off and did something wonderful or heroic for the good of the universe. And what had he done? He'd relied on a shell of himself, given up on his dreams to become a pilot, a fighter, a real Garrison general, and had spent his days wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing and grief even though he knew that that would have been the opposite of what Allura would have wanted for him.

He'd let down Allura. He'd let down himself. Now, he could try to fix it. He'd talked with Allura, even if she didn't know all that they'd been through together in his own reality and she'd made him promise to pursue the life he'd given up on. For his friends and family and Allura, wherever she was now, he needed to keep that promise.

And part of that promise was allowing himself to feel love again. Lance looked from the floor back to Keith, who was conveniently looking at him. He blushed involuntarily but didn't break eye contact with the Red Paladin. Every time he'd allowed himself to thaw a little, to give in to what his heart was telling him to do, he'd seen Allura's eyes flash in his mind and had bullied himself out of it.

But now, he was clear. He had a new promise and it was to his heart. He wanted Keith to know that he recognized whatever it was between them. He wanted to tell him how warm and safe and peaceful he'd felt falling asleep in Keith's arms the previous night. He wanted to tell him about that damn bonding moment and all the times he'd recognized that spark between them but had been too caught in the headlights of Allura's beauty and kindness to chase it.

Lance didn't regret falling in love with Allura. He would always remember her and know that she had a significant impact on his life. But his heart had been healed and he was ready to catch that spark between the Red Paladin and himself and see if it lead anywhere. He almost knew it would, but he felt the need to talk with Leandro first, to weigh in one last opinion, to get to know himself better from a different but identical perspective.

For the first time in a long time, Lance's heart was open.

...

The noodle bar had been a success! It was easier to talk with Akira and Leandro than Keith had expected. Because their realities were so contrasting, he found himself to be noticeably different from Akira in more than just their appearances. 

It was the way they both held their chopsticks, how they laughed, how they pushed back their hair. Everything was different and it was strangely comforting. The group of four talked and laughed amongst themselves as they told stories and asked questions, passing giggles and smiles and expressions of embarrassment between them. When they all finished, Keith was sad to say goodbye to the little noodle bar, wishing there was one in his reality's hometown. 

As Lance and Keith rode in the backseat of Leandro's truck, they marveled at the stars that shone above in the midnight sky. Everything was neon in the city, bright and confused and on display. But, out here, it was peaceful, quiet, undisturbed and unbothered by the complexity and tenseness of the city it surrounded.

The stars were brighter here too, sprinkled across the inky expanse they hung suspended in. Lance dazedly wondered if it was the lack of light pollution- it reminded him of the sky above the Garrison.

While Leandro coasted on the road that led through the desert, Akira sat shotgun, flipping through the radio aimlessly. Lance watched the casualty of Leandro's demeanor as he let go of the steering wheel with one hand and instead offered it to Akira, who slid their fingers together and smiled softly, looking up at Leandro in an expression of pure love. 

Lance glanced furtively at Keith and was surprised to see that the Red Paladin was fixing the two hands with a jealous expression. Lance bit his lip as he slowly, tentatively held out his hand to Keith, offering him a small smile when the Red Paladin looked confused for a moment. His eyes flicked back and forth between Akira and Leandro's clasped hands resting on the consol to Lance's outstretched palm. 

And then, with a returned smile, he slid his hand into Lance's, letting the bond fall to the space between them. Lance's hand was warm and dry and his fingers were long as they brushed the top of his hand. Keith knew that his hands were clammy, as much as he'd tried to lessen the sweat with his jeans, but he couldn't deny it- holding Lance's hand felt good. Like a victory. 

He didn't want to let go. 

...

hhhh sorry this is so cheesy

uhhhh qotd: apple gang or samsung gang?

ilyilyily