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Keith was sitting in his cruiser in the castle of lions, here officially, for the briefing after the mission on Naxzela—no one was organized after what went down. He could practically hear Allura and Coran’s frenzied shouting about Lotor’s involvement from where he had landed in Red's hangar. He didn’t intentionally go there, but he was feeling a little numb after everything and even though he had been accepted by Black as their new Paladin, Red’s hangar still felt safe and more like home than anywhere else he’d ever known.
Or at least almost anywhere; Lance and Red had landed just moments before Keith, Lance immediately jumping out of Red and running to Keith where he still sat inside his cruiser.
Keith wondered, belatedly if he was in shock…? He’d almost died tonight, after all, hadn’t he?
A loud bang drew his eyes up to find Lance with a fist against the glass, eyes and hair wild, the normally stylish locks in all directions as if he’d been pulling at it. Lance’s mouth was forming the word ‘Keith’ over and over again, silent through the glass and he looked seriously distressed.
It was that thought that unfroze Keith’s limbs enough to get him moving, enough to open the door and get out.
The second he’s standing, he’s in Lance's arms and they both slide to the ground when neither of them can trust their shaking legs to keep them upright any longer.
“Keith! Oh my god Keith, Keith,” Lance nearly sobs, kissing Keith’s eyelids, nose, and finally his mouth after every time he said his name.
“Lance,” Keith replied, voice shredded and hoarse and now he was the one gripping Lance's hair, bringing their foreheads together almost painfully.
Lance whimpered and pushed harder, closer - as if proximity alone could ease the ache pulsing through him at what had almost happened that night. As if maybe... if only he could get close enough, they could merge into one. Like if he tried hard enough, he could melt right into Keith’s arms, crawl right into his chest and never have to worry about being parted from him again.
It took Keith a few moments, but when he realized that Lance wasn’t shaking him by the shoulders like he thought, but was instead shaking himself—rocking back and forth and sobbing silently in his arms — he felt like he was dying for the second time that night.
“Hey...” Keith cooed, pulling back enough to see Lance's eyes - the blue swallowed up with grief and overflowing with tears. Lance was pale, and Keith had never, not once in this entire war seen this look of devastation on Lance’s face.
Not when he realized his family thought he was dead, not when they had bad missions or even lost entire planets.
This haunted look—more than anything—brought Keith to the present, eyes fully focusing on the boy in his lap, in his arms.
The boy that meant everything to him, who taught him that he was allowed to have people in his life and expect them to stay, who showed him how to love and be loved, despite everything.
“Sweetheart, hey...” Keith croaks, voice raw from the second-hand grief of it all. He pushes Lance to arms-length, needing more than anything to make sure that Lance isn’t hurt, that he’s okay. It’s the only thing that’s ever mattered to Keith and maybe that should scare him, but it doesn’t and it never has.
Lance makes a pained noise at the separation, leaning all his weight into the hand Keith has cupping his face, holding Keith’s palm there with both hands, an anchor.
He shuddered, closing his eyes when he asked, “Keith, what were you thinking? Please just— j-just tell me something was wrong with your ship. It went out of control — tell me, tell me you didn’t do it on purpose,” he looked up at Keith, imploring, begging.
“Please baby, tell me you weren’t possibly thinking...” Lance can’t finish the sentence, collapsing in on himself and looking like nothing so much as a dying star, light flickering out.
“Lance I’m sorry but I had to,” he whispers, closing his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see the look on Lance’s face as he recoils like he’s been struck.
When he says nothing, Keith continues, “You were all in danger Lance! And the mission...the mission was more import—“
“ Don’t,” interrupts Lance, voice somehow both shaking and deadly at once, “don’t you dare finish that sentence, Keith Kogane, how,” his voice breaks as he looks back up at Keith, a fire in his eyes that makes him look every bit the red Paladin. “Don’t you dare try to tell me that anything is more important than you."
“Jesus, Keith...you are not just a soldier, do you hear me?”
“I know what they tell you in the blade, ‘The mission is more important,’ but Keith…You didn’t grow up in the blade, okay? You’re not some rebel fighter with no attachments.
Not anymore, not ever. You’re mine,” he pulls Keith’s hand tighter to his face, presses a kiss to his palm, eyes imploring.
“The team, we need you! I need you! God damn it, Keith don’t you understand?” He breaks off with a sob, but continues, determined, “What would I do without you?”
Three tears leak out of blue eyes at this, resolve wavering as Keith leans his head into the crook of Lance’s neck.
This was Keith’s home.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Keith’s voice is hoarse, “ You were in danger I had to I thought it was the only way. And I would do it again, Lance, so help me god... You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same,” he finished quietly, feeling saltwater drip down his cheek, not sure if it was his or Lance’s but he didn’t care.
He would take any and every part of Lance.
“Keith,” Lance whispers, hating that he knows Keith is right; Lance would have done it too, if he’d been in Keith’s place. Of course he would have, If it might have saved Keith, saved everyone.
But it didn’t mean Lance hadn’t felt every single one of his foundations break apart tonight.
Lance couldn’t help but feel like this war had never felt so real, so close to them. To Keith. Beautiful, brave, selfless, untouchable Keith.
They’re both quiet for a few moments after that, until Lances manages a whispered, “Okay,” feeling so tired suddenly. Feeling that if they could just stay like this, all but fused together, it might start to feel okay again.
Like it might be enough to make him believe it.
“I love you,” he strokes his hand through Keith’s hair, feeling Keith shudder in his arms at the familiar motion.
“Love you too Lance,” Keith answers back, no hesitation, never hesitation, and the only thing Lance ever needed to hear to feel set to rights.
Neither of them would forget this mission.
Not Keith when he made the decision, easy when it came down to it, for the team. For lance, god anything for Lance. And not Lance when he realized what Keith had intended to do.
Those three words wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a start. It was everything they had, everything they needed to feel whole again.