Inspired by the Military AU doodles drawn by Lowaharts on tumblr. Check them out!
Mega thanks to my beta. And I'm sorry! I know I totally ditched a project or three to write this but I'm going back on track. I swear! :)
Head down. Deep breath. Count to five. It always came down to five. Keith let his eyes slip shut as he drew in his air.
"I think this one is trying to meditate." Of the five men standing guard around the group, one tapped Keith harshly on the head. He sounded vaguely Mongolian. "Hey! Wake up, knife man!"
When Keith glared up at him, the man chortled and walked away, assault rifle in hand. That was Shiro's gun, damn it. If only Keith had the use of his hands. He'd take that gun and he'd wipe the smile from the other man's face. The gun was dropped lazily in a pile with the rest of the team's gear and weapons, and Keith caught a glimpse of his own daggers and throwing knives. Damn it.
In the distance, several gunshots went off and fell silent. There was no way to tell who'd pulled the trigger or if anyone had been hit, and Keith wasn't the only one to tense at the sound.
The mission had gone sideways, and three of them were now tied up on the ground, held hostage by the enemy. They were in the remains of a bombed out building, though only two walls remained intact to hold up the ceiling. Six enemy combatants hovered nearby the three of them. Three out of five, so they still had a chance. There was still a chance for rescue. But then the only reason they hadn't been killed yet was to lure the others out. And those shots-
How did the enemy know their number strength? How had they known to expect the squad at all? No. Keith gave a small shake of his head and closed his eyes. Getting tangled up in the details was the surest way to lose his cool. He made mistakes when he lost his cool.
So he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
One.
There was no one better in the field. That's what all the rumors said. That's what the record showed. The Voltron Force was efficient and deadly, and they took no new recruits. Staff Sergeant Allura had handpicked each of her team, and she allowed no one to question her methods. Despite choosing each of her soldiers from different backgrounds and specialties, the squad was deadly and notorious.
The Voltron Force was a legendary squadron of soldiers, but the team had disbanded thirty years prior. Allura's father had picked the best of the best for his team, and they were some of the most decorated soldiers in the history of the garrison. Now, in the midst of new turmoil, Allura had been granted the honor of reforming the squad, and she had every intention of her team being every bit as skilled as her father's, if not better. She had to choose wisely.
Sergeant Takashi "Shiro" Shirogane was the first choice. His reputation preceded him. In the army only two years before his whole squad went missing in action. Then, one year later, a strange signal drew the attention of HQ. When ground forces arrived at the source, they found Shiro surrounded by the bodies of his captors and ranting about nothing. His right arm was beyond saving, and they amputated it as soon as the paperwork would allow. Now he had a cybernetic prosthetic.
Not everyone welcomed him back warmly. Many feared he was a sleeper agent, a spy for the enemy. How did one man out of seven survive a year in enemy hands and not turn rogue? Though he was still a soldier, no squad wanted him, and many didn't even want to train with him. Allura trusted him when the rest of the military feared him, and that gained her his loyalty instantly. Within Voltron, his codename was 'Black' because he was the leader of a team of shadows, a team of black sheep, if you would. Within rumors, he was The Black Captain, and his legend was used to scare new recruits into compliance. Stay within bounds or The Black Captain will catch you with his cyborg arm and never let you go. He'll run you so ragged, you'll wish you'd listened to your real commanding officer.
Keith always smirked when he heard that. Shiro was a tough leader, but it was Allura who never let them rest. Everyone thought she was too sweet for that… until they got her to lead a training for them. Then they all learned. She wasn't raised in a military family for nothing. Commanding soldiers and ensuring they were up to snuff was in her bones. That sugary personality was like the candy coating on a particularly bitter pill.
Not that Keith didn't like Allura. But it had definitely taken him some time to warm to her methods. He'd best describe it as 'tough mom', and maybe being an orphan made anything parental hard to accept, but they were cool now.
Back when the squad first formed and nobody could anticipate the moves of the others, things had been rough. There were many trips to hospitals for accidental nicks and cuts and one or two gun shots. Without Shiro and Allura keeping confident, the rest of the team would have torn each other apart over those accidents. But with them, they became so much more than a squad.
They were family.
An enemy boot nudged Keith in the side and drew his eyes up again. The soldier smirked at him and said something, but Keith didn't understand the language. Then the soldier let a pair of dog tags hang from his gloating fist.
"No sniper to get us now," he said, and Keith pressed his lips hard together.
He watched the tags sway back and forth, trying to read them as though they would turn out to be fakes. But Keith would know those tags anywhere, because no one else had the engraved pujok charm hanging from theirs.
His chest felt absurdly tight and his eyes widened in shock.
Breathe. Just breathe.
The dog tags were tossed to the ground in front of Keith and left there in the dirt for him to stare at. The pujok had blood on it. Beside him, Shiro shifted to get closer.
"Don't look at them, Keith," he ordered, voice soft and low. "They're just trying to get in your head."
"Well it's working," Keith grunted back and forced his eyes to look up from the metal tags. He had to remember to breathe. Breathe and count. Breathe and count.
"He's fine," Shiro continued, although Keith could hear the worry in his tone. "If he wasn't, they would have brought his body to gloat with and not his tags."
That was probably true. Keith repeated it in his head a few times to really let the hope sink in. Then, although it made no sense to, he kept counting.
Two.
Allura had chosen Keith second. After years of showing promise as potentially the best pilot the garrison had ever seen, he was dragged to see the Master Sergeant to be dishonorably discharged. Why? Because besides being a great pilot, Keith was also a master of knives, and when other recruits liked to mouth off or get in his way, Keith tended to… threaten them. Yes. Threaten. That's all it was.
Later on, Shiro would call this character flaw 'an inability to chill.' The Master Sergeant liked to call it 'disgraceful and disorderly insubordination.'
When Keith got to the office, he was introduced to Staff Sergeant Allura for the first time. Against the Master Sergeant's personal judgment, Keith was being given to Allura for her new Special Forces team.
The conversation had been a lot of different versions of, "Ma'am, we have better pilots and better knife wielders."
"No you don't."
"You should choose another, regardless. Mr. Kogane here doesn't follow orders. He'll give you more trouble than he's worth."
"I believe he will be a great asset. He just needs to find a place to truly test his wings."
At the time, Keith had been so upset that he disregarded her words, but it wasn't long before he realized just how great an opportunity she'd given him. Instead of being banned from ever piloting or serving his country again, Keith was made into a Specialist. He went from listless to purpose, and he never took it for granted.
He was codenamed 'Red', because of everyone on the team, he was the most likely to be in close proximity to a target when he drew blood. Also it matched his favorite jacket and the red ribbon band he wore on his bicep during ops. Despite the brutality of his main specialty, the team didn't look down on him. On this team, they didn't judge Keith for being better with sharp objects than he was with a gun. On this team, he could finally relax.
If need be, he would lay down his life for Allura and Shiro and the others, for his new family.
Not that he would tell them that most days, and that wasn't to say he got along great with everyone all the time.
The day after Keith got settled into the Voltron Force's living quarters, he got a roommate. Keith hated roommates. He also hated chatty people. One guess what his roommate was.
Lance Sanchez-McClain, codename 'Blue'. His eyes were a dark blue, and so was his favorite shirt, but he got the nickname for the cold reality his targets felt on the other end of his rifle. Keith got a similar sense of dread every time Lance opened his mouth, at least during their first several months working together.
It was impossible not to know about the extended, extremely loving Sanchez-McClain family. Lance never shut up about them. He brought them up at every possible turn. Even during drills, he'd pop in with some kind of tidbit about his cousin or his niece.
And even when he wasn't talking about his family, he was making a joke about something else, usually Keith because Keith almost never understood his pop-culture references.
They fought a lot in the beginning – more than anyone else on the team. And maybe that was why Allura made them roommates. Proximity first bred loathing, but over time the situation brought about a sort of intimacy the others couldn't fathom.
Without meaning to, Keith and Lance had developed their own references, their own mode of communication. Sometimes without a single word, Keith could communicate an entire idea to Lance. In the beginning it was simple: like 'I've let you rant long enough. Notice that I need my space and back off before I pull a knife on you.' But as time went on, one look could tell Lance which plan of attack Keith was going for during an op so Lance could cover him properly.
Lance was never in direct combat, although he was trained for it. On ops, he was their eyes and their shield. He'd dropped out of pilot training, despite his obvious skill in the area, when he'd discovered his proficiency with a sniper rifle. Really, he was skilled with multiple long range weapons, but his 'Specialist' title only listed sniper and assault rifles.
Allura had found Lance at the perfect time. Unlike the others, Lance had been about to willingly drop out of the military. It wasn't that he disliked serving or being named the best marksman in the history of the garrison. No, he was going to quit because the title brought with it much less appealing titles, like 'most likely to run away' and 'best coward'. Despite his upbeat attitude, he'd become miserable. He'd only joined the Voltron Force because Allura promised him he could wipe the smirks from the other soldier's faces, and that no one on the force would tease him that way.
At first Keith had, actually, teased him about his 'cowardly' choice of weapon, but Lance seemed to only bristle under the taunts and rise to the occasion instead of using Keith as an excuse to quit. As time went on, though, Keith realized how invaluable Lance was.
Whenever Keith thought a misstep would cost him his life, a bullet took down the enemy before they could deliver a finishing blow to Keith. And if Keith needed to sneak up to a building, Lance was the one making sure the guards were unconscious or dead so they wouldn't see Keith's approach.
After the squad's third successful mission, 'Blue' was more than a sense of dread. It was slang for 'clear skies', because no one on the team had to worry about being ambushed or caught off guard with Lance's eyes on them.
Now if only he could stop making comments over the com units about food and shows and how much his nose itched. Then he'd be perfect. Or… and Keith would never admit this either, but maybe Lance was sort of perfect even with the random comments. It was kind of reassuring to hear Lance mutter mundane things in his ear during tense ops. It reminded him what they were fighting for and grounded him.
Someone was murmuring behind him. It took only a second to recognize the voice as Pidge's. She was tied up with her back to Keith and had been silent until this point. Now, in the imposing silence, Keith heard the same words he kept thinking himself.
"Breathe. One. Two. Three. Breathe. Four. Five." She was so quiet, the enemy didn't take notice, and after a short pause she said it again.
It made no sense to count. The words were a mantra, a focal point when the rest of the world didn't make sense. But they counted each other, and they weren't all there. In the field, they'd often count just before walking into a dangerous situation, to make sure everyone was accounted for, and they almost always did it in their heads. Lance did it under his breath when he thought no one was listening, but he had been the one to inspire the others to take up the habit, so obviously they heard.
Yet here Pidge was, counting out loud.
Keith's chest burned with guilt and gratitude in equal parts. Pidge was counting for herself, sure, but he was certain she was counting out loud for his benefit. Count to five, she said. There are five of us. She was confirming what Shiro had said. If one of them was dead, they'd have a dead body to look at and not the tags.
But several minutes had passed since the last round of gunshots, and those had been before the tags were brought to him. If Lance and Hunk were out there, how long would a rescue take? What if they needed rescuing too?
Keith tugged on his bindings and frowned hard. With Pidge's murmuring in the background, he dared to put a bit more effort into his attempts and felt the bindings cut into his skin. He grunted in pain and Shiro gave him a serious and concerned look, but Keith kept trying.
Three.
From the start, Allura had told all the commanding officers that her team needed five specialists. A single, five man team to take on hard, international, covert operations. She'd been looking for a long time at who she needed, so it only took a week to bring the last two guys to the bunker.
Pidge Gunderson and Hunk Garett arrived on the same bus. Pidge was a self-described specialist in garrote wires, but the military didn't qualify it because there was no test for it. Lance would say there was, because Pidge liked to booby-trap the bunker with trip wires and almost invisible strings of piano wire. Pidge and Allura said it was to make sure they stayed on their toes, but Lance called it an unnecessary invisible maze between him and the fridge.
Keith called it proof that Lance's eyesight was twice as good as any of theirs. Lance was the first to get cut on the wires, but after day one, he was always the first to breakfast too. Waiting in the doorway, Keith took to memorizing Lance's path through the room and just mimicking it. It made it seem like Keith had a perfect vision of where the wires were, and Lance usually got riled up about it. If he knew Keith was just following his example, he would have been annoyingly proud, so Keith kept it to himself.
Wires weren't Pidge's only expertise. Allura managed to secure Pidge by taking claim of the small soldier's computer skills. On ops, Pidge was the one making sure their coms weren't hacked, their enemy's cameras were compromised, and the airwaves were jammed when they needed to be. Pidge could unlock an electronic door in under a minute - two if it was encrypted well enough. If Hunk could blow a manual lock, Pidge could hack the electronic one. Their tech savvy teammate earned the codename 'Green' for always making sure they were green-lit to get through a building.
Having a hacker on the team was priceless in the modern world, and they all respected Pidge for bringing that to the squad.
The first noticeable difference with Pidge was rooming. Keith and Lance shared a room, as did Shiro and Hunk, but Pidge roomed alone. It seemed only Allura knew why, but she wasn't budging on an explanation. And for awhile, everyone begrudgingly accepted the special treatment.
Until Lance barged into Pidge's room unannounced. He'd come to get Pidge, who was late for drill, but what he found ended up delaying drill for several hours. Pidge wasn't 'Pidge' at all. Behind the alias of male Pidge Gunderson was female Katie Holt, the only female field operative on the Voltron Force.
When the rest of the team was told, only Shiro seemed unsurprised.
"You look just like your brother," he said somberly. "I'm sorry about what happened."
Sam and Mathew Holt had been part of Shiro's team when they'd been captured by the enemy several years prior, but neither had made it out alive like Shiro. A combination of wanting to see what kind of person Shiro was and not wanting to bring so much baggage to the team's relationship had convinced Katie to adopt the alias, and Allura had agreed to it.
On record, Katie Holt was a member of the Voltron Force. In person, she was still 'Pidge'. If Lance was their eyes in the sky, then Pidge was their eyes in the walls. No gender change could take that away. And in the end, the reveal meant very little at all. Except that they started saying 'she' instead of 'he', per Pidge's request.
Hunk Garett was a heavy ordnance specialist. Where Keith and Pidge used pistols and Shiro and Lance had assault rifles, Hunk had things like grenade launchers and machine guns. In the field, he could make an explosive out of almost anything. If they needed to blow the hinges off something, he could manage that. And if they needed to take out a whole building, he could do that too.
His 'presents' to the enemy always ended in a bright display, and Shiro took to saying 'Give them some gold,' whenever they needed an explosion. So it was no surprise when Hunk was classified as codename 'Gold'.
His destructive capabilities were impressive indeed, but the thing he destroyed most often was tension. Off the field of battle, Hunk was the older brother none of them had ever had. He was the instigator of group hugs and the mediator of truces. And no matter how mad each of them got, no one could really stay mad at Hunk.
He was their demolition expert in the field and their kitchen expert at home. Even if he hadn't been easy to get along with and full of a surprising amount of wisdom, it was impossible to stay mad at someone who filled your belly with delicious and healthy foods. When Pidge set up her wire mazes, she often let Hunk through first just so he could start cooking… but only during dinner time. Breakfast was every man for himself.
By the end of his first week, Hunk was best friends with Lance, and it was through Lance that the others learned how Hunk had been selected. His skill in building explosives had him sidelined as a contractor, not a field operative, and he'd been pretty bummed about it. He was so invisible on the tower of power, that Allura might never have noticed him, except they'd bumped into each other in the garrison mess hall.
After sharing his personally cooked meal with her, they'd started talking. He had no idea who she was, as she'd been dressed in civilian clothes, and only discovered her true purpose for being at the garrison later when she offered him the job.
"I've got a lot of hot headed individuals lined up for this team," she'd said. "I need someone like you there to keep the balance."
It didn't take any effort at all for Hunk to blend into the group. He fit in like he'd always belonged there, and it was easy to gravitate around him, even when he was being the most cautious or anxious of them all. Lance brought out Hunk's adventurous side, and Keith would not admit to being jealous of their close camaraderie. But watching them laugh and have fun and work well in drills together really got to Keith.
Why couldn't he be like them? Why couldn't he get along with Lance like that?
It didn't occur to him that he and Lance were becoming just as close and that Hunk was also jealous of Keith. It didn't occur to him even when Lance gave him the red ribbon band he now wore all the time.
"It's a charm of good luck during travel," Lance had said with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.
Keith had looked at his bicep, where Lance had maneuvered the band, and said, "Is this your way of telling me to leave?"
Lance had sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. "Oh my god! You- No, you mullet head. It's a protection charm for when we're in the field. Duh!"
And really it should have occurred to him then, that he and Lance were closer than the others, because Lance didn't give anyone else a protection charm. But it didn't.
The glint of the dog tags in the dirt only fueled Keith's desire to escape. He swore he could feel one of his hands starting to slip free… never mind that he was definitely bleeding from the side of his wrist.
"Keith," Shiro warned. "You're going to hurt yourself."
He meant that Keith would hit a major vein if he wasn't careful, but the words still felt silly in light of the blood. Pidge's voice dropped out and she shifted to look back at him, curiosity more powerful than the need to comfort herself.
Her mouth opened, and she started to say something, but then a different sound caused the three of them and all their captors to still. It was the whistle of a projectile flying through the air. The already ruined building to their left exploded, and their rickety shelter shook with the force.
The three Voltron specialists exchanged a set of looks. Two things were certain. One, they had to get out from under this crumbling building's roof before another explosion went off. Two, there was only one explosives expert in the area that would be taking on this team of renegades. Not that Hunk would knowingly endanger the lives of his teammates, but it was doubtful their golden grenade launcher knew just how fragile the building was.
Now it wasn't just Keith attempting to pull off his bindings. And the enemy was in no position to notice. The men were shouting at each other in a foreign language and pointing wildly in the direction they thought the grenade had come from. There seemed to be some kind of disagreement about which direction that was and who should go find out, and in the end two men went one way and two others went the other way, and the Voltron squad was left with only two guards.
Damn, if only Keith had one of his knives. He'd just slice the bindings on all of them. But the other soldiers had stripped them of their weapons. Keith's eyes strayed longingly over to the pile of weaponry that the two remaining guards were keeping a close eye on, even more so now that they were under attack.
There was a soft thunk of a noise to Keith's left, slightly between him and Shiro. There, inconspicuous in the shadow of the building, was a knife. Someone had managed to throw it perfect enough to lodge it into the dirt a mere foot from Keith's boot.
The devilish smirk that took over Keith's face actually made Shiro lean away from him, and then Keith was diving for the weapon before the enemy could even take notice of its appearance. But oh, they'd know about it soon enough. Because Keith had several questions that no language barriers were going to keep from being answered.
Four.
Keith's understanding of his relationship with Lance didn't sink in for a long time. After Lance gave him the band, Keith did notice that they fought less, but otherwise it was the same as always. He and Lance sparred to keep up Lance's hand-to-hand skill, and Lance trained with him on the shooting range to make sure Keith wasn't getting rusty on his pistol work.
Same old, same old.
It wasn't until their fourth mission ended that Keith really noticed what he should have noticed two missions prior.
After the mission, the team returned home to their bunker and split ways to shower and relax. Usually Keith spent an hour in the gym to wind down before he showered, but this time he was too tired. He showered quickly and made his way back to the room he shared with Lance.
At first, he thought Lance was out of the room doing yoga or using the computer lab or whatever Lance's relaxation technique was this week, because the lights were off. But in the otherwise silent room, Keith could hear a soft sound.
He followed the noise to the half-bathroom in the back of the room and found Lance there, huddled on the floor. He had one arm on the toilet, his hand hanging free in the air and shaking badly. The other hand was pressing down into his leg to keep him from falling over.
"One," Lance said with barely a breath before his body tensed and he choked. He pressed a hand to his mouth and closed his eyes, unaware he was being watched. After a moment he pulled his hand back and took a shaking breath. "Ugh. Two. Three. Four. Fi-"
And he launched forward just in time to throw up into the toilet. It was gross, of course, but Keith couldn't stop watching. At the time, Keith had never heard the counting before. It would be a week before Lance taught the tactic to the others.
When Lance seemed to have better control of himself and his shaking had diminished, Keith pressed the door open slightly to let himself be known. A shocked shout came from Lance and one hand went to his hip before he straight up flailed away from the toilet. Then he was shouting a mixture of Spanish and English as he cursed Keith for barging in on him in the bathroom.
But Keith hadn't heard most of it. He knelt by Lance, earning a confused remark by the other, and then he reached out and quickly pulled Lance into a strong embrace. It wasn't that he thought Lance needed the force. On the contrary, he suspected Lance needed a soft hug, but he held on tight because he also knew Lance would try to reject it.
At first Lance did, but he quieted quickly when he realized Keith wasn't letting go. How could Keith let go? Lance was reaching for weapons he didn't have, and his shaking told Keith he was more broken down by the mission than he let on.
"Is it bad?" Keith asked once Lance had settled stiffly in his arms. He thought back to his own minor form of PTSD – the nightmares he sometimes had trouble waking up from.
"What? I- I'm fine. My stomach just-"
And Keith had slid his hand up to the back of Lance's head, weaving his fingers into the hair there. "Wrong." He shook his head."Just for a second, Lance… stop talking. There's nothing wrong with-… Just-… I've got you, alright?"
They all knew Shiro had PTSD from his time as a prisoner of war, and of course they all had nightmares. But Lance had never seemed bothered by their work, never seemed to lose an hour of his much boasted beauty sleep. He was always just as chatty in the field as he was at home, and it would take a conversation with Shiro for Keith to fully understand how weird that really was.
Lance, Shiro explained, grounded everyone, not just Keith. With his weirdly normal comments during missions, he kept what they did and saw from being quite as terrible as it probably should have been. He was their distraction. But Lance had no distraction for himself.
When the coms were quiet and they were all focusing, Lance was alone while they moved as a team. Lance had to watch them kill others and had to make sure he took out the ones they couldn't get to or even see. In a way, there was more pressure on Lance than the others to make sure his teammates were safe. One wrong move and they'd be dead.
In that bathroom, Keith only knew that Lance was stuck seeing the men he'd killed that day and he was reminding himself that his teammates were safe. On that cold, tile floor, Lance finally relaxed some of his tension and held onto the front of Keith's shirt loosely with his trembling hands. It would take two more times of Keith finding Lance in such a state before the other would really lean into the comfort being offered.
But it was after only the first time that Keith understood the tension in his own chest. That was when he finally understood the feeling he got whenever he was in the field and he looked down at the red ribbon around his bicep.
On the flight to their next mission, Keith presented Lance with a protection charm of his own – a pujok.
"A real one is bigger and people put them above doors and stuff. But this is travel size," Keith explained.
"What's it do?" Lance asked as he added it to the chain with his dog tags. The yellow background stuck out against his otherwise muted colors. "Besides clash with my outfit."
Rolling his eyes, Keith explained, "A pujok keeps away evil. It's supposed to be good luck. But if you're just gonna make fun of it, you can give it back." And he put his hand out for it.
But Lance shook his head and put his own hand on Keith's. "No way, dude. A protection charm from you?" He slid his fingers between Keith's and held firm. A smirk pulled on his lips. "You'll have to pry it from my dead body."
"I think you've missed the point of a protection charm," Keith said, confusion evident in his face.
Lance had just chuckled and then leaned against the window, content. It took ten full minutes for Keith to realize they were still holding hands. And it was ten more before Allura came around to give them a mission briefing and the two men jolted apart.
Neither of them said anything about it during the mission. It was almost as if it had never happened. But Keith knew then that the tight feeling in his chest that was associated with Lance was never going to go away.
During the mission, Lance moved to find higher ground, but before he was out of sight, Keith saw him lift the pujok from his vest and press it to his lips like a prayer. And it felt good to know he could bring at least some solace to the nightmare riddled sniper.
The two guards didn't stand a chance once Keith had cut the bindings off. Shiro and him took them down in five seconds. Meanwhile, Pidge snatched up her earpiece from the weapons pile and tried to contact Hunk.
"Can you read me? Green to Gold. Come in," she could be heard repeating as she dug through the stuff to find her gear.
Shiro and Keith caught their respective coms units when she threw them, and then Keith hunched down over their new captors. "Hey. I know you speak English. Where'd you get the tags?" And he held up Lance's bloody dog tags. The guy just chuckled and smirked, so Keith shoved him hard into the ground. "You think this is a game?!"
"Keith," Shiro warned and pulled his friend back. The two enemy soldiers were now the ones tied up. They were no threat. In the distance, another explosion went off, so they knew Hunk was still active. "It's gonna be alright."
"Fine. So let's get out there and find the dumb idiot," Keith grunted and wrenched himself free from Shiro's grip.
Pidge was already holding up his utility belt full of knives and his pistol and holster for him, and he thanked her as he took them. As soon as the familiar weight was strapped tight to him, Keith moved away from the crumbling walls and carefully made his way in the direction of the explosions.
"Green to Gold," he heard in his ear piece. "Status of the treasury."
"The price of gold is high," came Hunk's reply, finally. Then he grunted. "I still don't like that code phrase, by the way. Banking is a terrible scam these days. And I don't like scamming people."
"Gold," Pidge said with a groan.
As Keith slid in behind an old shed to hide from the active combatants only a few yards away, he heard Shiro cut into the banter. "We'll discuss it later," he said gruffly. "What's most important now is a weather report."
"What?" Hunk asked. Another explosion temporarily blocked their ability to hear. "You're kidding, right? I thought he was with you!"
Damn it. Keith pulled a knife from his belt – a small but sharp one. With perfect accuracy, he pitched it just above his enemy's protective vest, right into his neck. The man went down with a choked sound, but Keith was back behind his covering before the other man with him could turn to see the problem.
"Blue, come in," Shiro called over the com. The second man was hesitantly walking in Keith's direction, but before he got there, Keith heard another gagging sound. When he looked around his cover, he saw Shiro had incapacitated the man with his bionic arm. "Come in, Blue."
Red and Black exchanged a worried look, then they nodded at each other and hurried in the direction of where they'd last had confirmation of their sniper.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Keith couldn't finish the count, couldn't finish the stupid sequence if he didn't know where Lance was!
"I'm seeing Red," Hunk informed them warily as Keith struck out bravely into plain view.
Someone tried to shoot at Keith, but he ducked down as soon as he heard the first pop of the gun. Then a different gun let out set of snaps and the enemy soldier was down, Shiro's rifle overpowering theirs. "Red, be careful!" he scolded.
"I'll be fine," Keith assured, but he was only half listening. His eyes were on the rocky path up ahead that wound up into the nearby mountain. Lance had been heading for a cluster of shrubs there where he could hide in the shade.
The dog tags were hot in his hand as he ran blindly for the foliage. A second series of shots missed him by a mile but gave away the position of more of the troops, and Keith heard Hunk and Shiro take care of them over the coms. But no Lance. There was no comment from Lance.
As Keith rounded the last bend before the shrubs, a man dove out from behind a boulder, knife out to end Keith's brief but prolific career. The red soldier shouted and jumped back in shock, but he knew he didn't have the space or time to get out of the way.
No sound accompanied the bullet that caught his attacker in the temple and dropped him to the dirt. The enemy soldier didn't even make a pained noise or expression. He was just dead.
"Lance?!" Keith called out, looking around the landscape in the direction of the bullet's trajectory.
His chest heaved as he scanned bushes and rocks again and again without seeing his savior. Then, in the shadow of a tree, resting up against the bark, Keith finally spotted the familiar body. Lance lowered his weapon and sagged.
"Do we have eyes on him?" Shiro asked.
Relief hit Keith like a punch and he felt heavy with it, but his mouth smiled. "I have eyes on a blue sky," he said. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Five.
The first time it happened, Lance instigated it… because of course he did.
The team had come back home, fresh from a tough mission and an equally tough scolding from Allura. Keith had caught a bullet to the arm, but he'd make a full recovery so long as he did his physical therapy. With his limited maneuverability, Keith required help to get his stuff back to his room, but Lance was more than eager to help.
Even Keith could tell why. Lance felt guilty for letting the shot get through, but it really wasn't his fault. Everyone on the team had told him so, and he even pretended he believed them, but Keith could tell he was still thinking about it.
"Thanks," Keith said as soon as the bags were settled. "I was thinking of taking a shower… carefully. Or do you need me to stay?"
It was a regular habit those days for Keith to take a later shower so he could be Lance's solid ground for a short while. The pujok seemed to help Lance in the field, but he never turned down Keith's silent offer to stay with him anyway.
"I don't need you to stay any time," Lance answered, chest puffing up with false machismo that Keith thought they'd moved past ages ago.
He sighed and shook his head. It hurt a little that Lance would deny their moments of solace so easily, but he didn't let it show. "Fine. I'll be back when I'm back." And he headed for the door.
But he didn't make it there. Lance caught his arm, just below the red ribbon band, as he walked by and stopped his advance."No. That was a lie. I'm a terrible lying liar, and you better not walk out that door or so help me, I'll-"
"You'll?" Keith prompted.
Hand still strong on Keith's uninjured bicep, Lance frowned and then leaned in quick for a brief, stolen kiss. In all of Keith's fantasies about that moment, he'd never figured Lance for a quick kisser, but in reality it was better that way. It let the shock wear off easier.
"S-Sorry! I just-" Lance stuttered, but then Keith was grabbing Lance's arm and kissing him in turn.
That one was a bit longer; long enough that they could both feel the heat of each other linger in their lips when it was over. Because of course Keith was the better kisser. When it was over, Lance briefly tightened his grip on Keith's bicep before he groaned out a sigh and leaned his forehead down on Keith's.
"I just-," he started and stopped again. "I let you get shot. It was a stupid mistake, and I'm sorry. And if you walk out that door right now, I'm just gonna scream, I'm so mad right now."
"And I thought I was Codename Red," Keith teased. He slipped his hand up to Lance's neck and stroked the skin there. They both needed a shower. "Scream if you need to. But then you gotta move on. It wasn't your fault. And even if it was, it's over. I'm going to be fine." Lance didn't look convinced, so Keith gently pat him on the cheek to startle the serious look off his face. "You're going to be fine."
Lance looked dubious but not outright against the idea. Then he started squirming under Keith's touch. "Yeah, so, about that. Like, and, what about us? I mean, I don't know if you noticed, but we totally just kissed. Twice. And where I come from, that makes us an 'us', if you get what I'm saying. Which, knowing you, you might not. But, so like, what about us? Cause I totally get it if you're pissed that I jumped you like that."
With a roll of his eyes, Keith pulled away one step, but he let his hand fall down to take Lance's in a reassuring grip. "Yes, idiot. We're going to be fine too."
Lance grinned and beamed with excitement. He grabbed Keith's face and kissed him with more assurance than the first time, and by the time that kiss ended, they had fallen into a strangely comfortable heap on the bed, careful of Keith's injury.
After that day, things were easier. Keith didn't have to worry about his weird emotions misinterpreting Lance's words or signals. The only frustrating part was that Lance's words and signals were then heavily influenced by the knowledge that Keith liked him back, and lots of sexual innuendos got dropped into training… well, more than before, and more focused on Keith. It was unbearably embarrassing.
Not that Keith hadn't expected it.
The reveal of their new relationship seemed to shock people even less than Katie's reveal of her true name, and Lance seemed dramatically upset about that. Keith supposed Lance wanted to be the biggest piece of gossip they'd heard in years, but since Lance had the biggest blabber mouth of the whole team, Keith wasn't surprised that everyone had expected this outcome long before it happened.
Their shared room had two beds still, but they mostly slept in Keith's. Lance claimed it was wider, but the beds were standard issue and identical. Keith suspected Lance just liked the added bonus of a window over their heads. No matter the reason, they both slept better. It was comforting to feel another person's warmth beside you, and it made their little nerve-relaxing mantra that much easier. Now when Lance murmured under his breath, he said the first two counts with confidence.
Though the sniper still shook some nights, Keith no longer found him huddled in the bathroom, all alone with his intrusive thoughts. And that was a major victory.
Now that they weren't both trying to hide some secret crush, they actually worked even better in the field than before. This was debatably a bad thing, because it meant Keith would be unnecessarily reckless simply because he knew Lance would always have his back. Shiro gave him several lectures about it, but since Keith had yet to get seriously injured or jeopardize a mission with his new headstrong tactics, none of the scoldings had much heat or really stuck with Keith at all.
Allura's team had Blue skies and Red dawns. They had a Black Captain, who Green-lit the missions and authorized Gold packages. On paper, the team was outstripping the old Voltron Force in services rendered. The only drawback to their record was that there was more red tape to get through on some missions than the old force had ever had to deal with in their entire tenure.
Eventually they got a mission that struck close to home for Allura and her father, Alfor. An ex-Voltron Force soldier had gone off-grid some years prior, but new reports showed he had a strong, active presence again. Only this time he was an enemy.
Zarkon was an adept strategist, Alfor warned, but so was Shiro, so Allura had faith. For months, the team studied Zarkon's movements, gathered intel on his allies and operations, and intercepted as many plots as they could handle. They had to stop him before he got his people into too many positions of power, before he could build himself an army.
They thought they were doing well. And then came the current mission in Asia.
When Keith got to the tree, he expected Lance to jump up and hug him… or hit him. One of the two. Even after being in a relationship for awhile, Keith couldn't perfectly predict how the other would react. But neither happened.
Lance had his eyes closed and was taking measured breaths. One hand held his rifle. The other held his abdomen, just below his bulletproof vest. There was no com unit in his ear, and Keith had a passing thought about how at least he wouldn't have to yell at Lance for failing to answer hails. His main thoughts, though, were on the red color staining Lance's dark tanned skin.
"Green, hail the Castle," Keith ordered as he dropped down by Lance's side and carefully moved Lance's hand so he could assess the damage. "We need a med evac for Blue."
"Damage report," Shiro said, but Keith knew Pidge was also doing as asked.
"All hostiles down," Hunk interrupted. "No sign of Zarkon, though. Must have scrammed when we showed up."
"We'll get him next time. Red. Report," Shiro ordered more forcefully.
The blood made it a bit hard to see, but Keith was sure it wasn't as bad as it looked. Lance was watching him with half-lidded eyes and had yet to speak, but the wound would be an easy fix… if they got him to a hospital soonish. The bullet that caught him was in the wrong place to have hit any major organs, thank goodness.
"Minor shot to the abdomen," he reported, popping open one of the pockets on his utility belt. He pulled out a gauze packet and an ace bandage to do as much field patchwork as he could. "No major damage as far as basic vision can tell. I think blood loss is our only major concern."
Lance still hadn't spoken, and the silence was starting to worry Keith. As soon as the wrapped bandage was in place, he turned his eyes to Lance's face. Their teammates were expressing relief in Keith's ear, but Keith's gut went cold.
There was blood on Lance's neck too. He reached carefully to inspect the area and Lance winced under his touch. A bullet had grazed the skin there, enough to burn and bleed but not enough to kill. Thank God it hadn't hit a major artery. But it seemed to hurt Lance just to swallow or breathe, so Keith understood then why his boyfriend, his partner, wasn't speaking. The bullet must have hit the chain for his dog tags more than his skin, and that was how the enemy soldier had gotten hold of them.
"Gold, make your way up the trail," Keith said, voice tight. "I need your medi bag, ASAP. Blue has a non-lethal abrasion on his throat in need of immediate medical treatment, and I already used my supplies on his stupid bullet wound."
Hunk was fretting over the ear piece, but Lance actually smirked in response. He reached up, careful not to pull the muscles in his stomach, and slid his hand into Keith's hair. Without words, he was teasing Keith. And maybe that should annoy Keith. But it didn't.
Taking Lance's hand from his gun and letting the weapon fall harmlessly to the grass, Keith gave the Blue soldier his tags back. The metal was held between their joined hands, the pujok pressing into both of them. Then Keith leaned down and kissed Lance, cautious of his wounds.
"Why are you like this?" he asked. "Always being stupid."
Lance let out a laugh that turned into a whine when it hurt him, and Keith rolled his eyes with a sigh.
When Hunk arrived, the two were still there, with Keith knelt beside Lance and their foreheads resting together. They got Lance patched up, and then all they could do was wait the next fifteen minutes until the evac helicopter arrived. Hunk ranted softly the whole time about how crazy the mission had been, how crazy Lance was, and then mostly about the shitty hospital food Lance would be subjected to – but don't worry, because Hunk was gonna cook him some amazing 'get-well-quick' food as soon as he got home. In place of Lance's usual banter, it was really quite soothing.
Shiro and Pidge finished the recon on the area and the enemy's small base of operations. Zarkon had been there, they concluded, but he'd evacuated with his remaining forces just before their arrival. But that was fine. There were only so many places the renegade could hide. They'd find him.
The medical copter took off long before the rest of the team headed back to base, and by the time they filed into the briefing room where Allura was waiting, Lance was back too. He looked tired and generally like shit, but operations to remove bullets could have that effect on people.
"Hey," he croaked when Keith took a seat beside him. He still had an IV hanging from a pole beside him, so really he had no reason to look as smug as he did.
"Stop talking, idiot. You're wounded."
Lance's smirk only got worse and he leaned toward Keith conspiratorially. "Totally saved your life," he said. "You were trying to save mine and I totally saved yours instead."
"Yes. You did." Keith leaned against Lance, partially for his own comfort and partially to keep Lance from being dumb and pulling his wound open. He could bring up that it was thanks to him that Lance hadn't bled out before getting to the hospital, but he didn't. He also could have suggested that Keith's pujok was the reason Lance still had vocal chords at all, but he didn't do that either. Because after years of living with Lance, he had learned to sometimes just let it go.
Lance pouted but didn't pull away. "Dude, you're way less fun when you let me win," he said.
He had his tags back on with a new chain, although they probably hurt when they rubbed the bandage on his neck, and there was Keith's charm resting against Lance's chest. Keith shrugged slightly and put his hand over the charm.
Allura welcomed them all back and gave a pointedly relieved look to Lance as she said the words 'in one piece.' The team was ordered to be off-duty for a week or two while other intelligence groups tried to sniff out Zarkon and his men.
"I know what you're thinking. You're better than those other groups. And I'm not going to tell you you're wrong, but we've sustained damages. Some of us need to heal. Some of us need to just breathe. You've been fighting hard. It's time to let our allies help us," Allura said.
They all knew she was right, so they agreed with only mild complaining.
Keith was torn. Part of him wanted to find Zarkon and rip him in half because of all the people he hurt, because of Lance. The other part of him didn't think he could go on a mission while Lance was in recovery. He'd worry too much, be too distracted. But he wanted to play target practice with someone really badly. It was frustrating.
Back home – or Home for most of them – they tried to relax. Hunk took the next bus out to go stay with his family for the duration of his shore leave. Pidge claimed she would stay on base, but after video chatting with her mom, she too left to visit her real home and the only blood family she had left.
Shiro stayed and trained or meditated. He never spoke about his family, so Keith often assumed they were in the same situation – they didn't have family. And Lance… Lance couldn't go home with his injuries. A nurse was scheduled to stay on base with them and keep an eye on Lance's condition, and he was mostly confined to bed.
That was fine with Keith, who didn't want Lance trying to pull some stupid stunt and injuring himself further.
During the day, Keith brought Lance meals and spent at least two hours a day in the training rooms. But most of the time he spent sitting on his own bed, reading or playing a single player game on his handheld. After the first day of that, though, he got a notification that Lance wanted to play other games with him. Since they couldn't talk, it was nice to play word games and fighting games and all manner of things together.
At the end of the first week, Lance's throat was healed enough for him to talk, but not for as long or as passionately as he was used to. Still, it was nice to hear his jabber. Keith acted like it was a trial to deal with, but inside he was beyond relieved. That was the day the nurse moved out too. She'd make daily calls, and she'd come if they needed her, but otherwise Lance was on the mend enough to not need the supervision.
The night after Lance's first day of speaking, Keith slipped into bed with his partner – the first time he'd done so since coming home. Lance was sleeping, and Keith got in and curled up without disturbing the one wire still attached to him. It felt nice, having someone so warm and real beside him, but the tension was still in Keith's muscles.
A few moments later, Lance shifted onto his side, and his arm came up to wrap around Keith. "You're the stupid one," the blue soldier scolded. "What took you so long?"
And Keith couldn't admit that he'd been afraid of waking up and finding out that Lance wasn't there. He couldn't say that his dreams were full of nightmares of finding Lance under that tree too late. How could he explain the irrational notion that sleeping beside Lance made those fears worse?
But Lance didn't need an answer. He snuggled into Keith's back, spooning him gently, and took long deep breaths. The steady rhythm helped Keith as much as it helped Lance, and soon he was able to finally relax.
"Lance," he murmured when he was certain this time that the other was sleeping. "I think… I might love you. And this last mission, it totally scared the crap out of me. I thought- I worried you'd been killed. But I'm glad you weren't. I glad that there's still someone I can sleep with at night. So… yeah… Good night."
Lance didn't reply, which was good. The embarrassment might have killed Keith. As it was, he just turned his face into the pillow, took a deep breath of Lance, and went to sleep.
In the morning, Shiro met Keith in the dining hall when he came to get Lance's breakfast, and told him that the others were due to arrive by dinner time. "If Lance is feeling up to it, I think it'd be nice to have a big family dinner. What do you think?" Well Lance was more than eager to finally eat at a table again and quickly agreed, and how could Keith say no to spending time with his favorite people?
In preparation for the team's return, the day was spent cleaning up everything they'd been putting off, restocking the fridge so Hunk would have food to cook with, and making sure Lance sat his butt down and didn't help. He could watch and comment, but every time he tried to move to help, one of them was there to push him back down.
Keith even threatened to tie him down. But then Lance gave him the most lewd smirk possible, and Keith had quickly moved away before his partner could make any sexual jokes.
When they heard the taxi pull up out front, Shiro left to greet their teammates, and Keith dropped into the chair next to Lance's. Cleaning the whole place had been quite the workout. As he tugged on his shirt to let cool air get to his skin, he noticed Lance was staring at him. Then, with a curiously knowing grin tugging at his lips, Lance said, "You know… I might love you too."
"W-What?" Keith couldn't have heard that right.
"Maybe all that hair is blocking your ears. I said I love you."
So he hadn't heard wrong. Keith's face heated up so bad he was sure it must be glowing. People didn't just say things like that! Okay, so Lance said that kind of stuff to toasters and definitely to people, but never to Keith! To Keith it meant-
"I-," he stuttered and then swallowed thickly. "I love you too."
Lance laughed loud once and then threw his arm around Keith's shoulders. "Yeah, I already knew that, smarty pants. Remember?"
And oh yeah. Because Lance had said 'too' the first time, so he must've been awake the night before. Keith was still flushing, and he tilted his head down to hide his face in his bangs, but he let Lance kiss his ear and ruffle his hair anyway.
It was nice hearing Lance say that, honestly. Because Keith hadn't heard anything like that in a very, very long time. And it was nice feeling Lance's lips on his ear, on his head, on his neck, because he'd missed this feeling, this comfortable closeness with someone since Lance's injury. And he used to live alone, but he didn't want to anymore. He didn't want to live without Lance there, trying to get into his space and forcing him to open his world.
The rest of the team, Allura included, found them on the couch that way, Lance's face buried in Keith's neck, arms wrapped around each other. Pidge instantly exclaimed about public indecency while Hunk whined about taking that somewhere private and Shiro scolded them for trying to make Lance and Keith uncomfortable. For her part, Allura just said a soft 'oh my' and then smiled deviously at them as she made her way through to the kitchen.
In the past, being caught like that would have made Keith even more embarrassed, but at that moment it actually just made his chest swell. Lance was smirking and snickering into his skin, and Keith didn't want any of it to end.
He'd lost his family a long time ago, but this was his new one. He loved Lance, but he loved the rest of the team too, and he couldn't imagine life without all of them in it. The day Allura had invited him to join the team, he hadn't known just what kind of gift she was giving him, but there, sitting on the couch with Lance folded against him and his teammates playfully bickering about public displays of affection, he thought he finally did.
They still had to find and subdue an ex-ally. They still had a long career of covert operations to run. Heck, they still had dinner to make. But as long as they were together, Keith knew they'd get it done. Because they were the Voltron Force. And that meant they were family.
"I love you guys," Keith said loud enough to break up the conversation.
Everyone stared at him with different smiles, and Shiro started to say something about the team loving him too, but Lance made a squeak of indignation mid-sentence and grabbed Keith gently by the hair.
"Hey, mister! We were having a moment! You can't just go saying that to everyone!" he exclaimed.
Nonplused, Keith just stared at his partner. "Why not? You say it to everyone."
That earned another squeak. Lance looked affronted, but Pidge laughed. "He's right though," she said, and the family bickering changed to include Lance as they debated his liberal use of the word 'love'. Keith leaned back into the couch and tried to relax from his earlier embarrassment.
He really, really loved them all. He took Lance's hand in his own and squeezed it. Lance squeezed back but continued to bicker all the same. From the kitchen, Allura tried to call them all to order, but nothing changed. And honestly, Keith wouldn't have it any other way.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Slowly, while the sounds of his family bustled around him, he counted. And he smiled.