this is, essentially, a lot of sentimental thought vomit inspired by this comic:
sve-aph . tumblr post/170634557757/sabertoothwalrus-i-want-a-fic-where-lance-and

It was stupid, of course. It was always stupid with those two. They hadn't a real argument in- well, Lance would shrug and saw it'd been a couple months and Keith would look you in the eye and tell you it had been seventy-three days. Hell, Lance fought with Hunk about more legitimate things than he did with Keith.

With Keith it was always,

"Yes I totally did fit four marshmallows in my mouth!"

"It doesn't count unless you close your mouth!"

"Nobody plays by those rules, asshole!"

And

"You can't grab people from behind, that's unfair!"

"If you would just admit that you tripped, this wouldn't be a problem!"

"I didn't trip!"

By Pidge's count, neither of them were ever really right, but that's not the kind of conclusion Keith and Lance were looking for. Their conclusions normally came mid-afternoon, whispered into the curve of a warm neck as the settled down for a nap. (It's really hard to be mad at your nap buddy, Keith found.)

For about twenty-three days, that's what Keith called them in his head. Nap buddies. He knew it wasn't quite the right word. (He really, really hoped it wasn't the right word.) But he never actually worked up the confidence to ask. It wasn't until—almost ironically—he was waking up from a nap to Lance's hands carding softly through his hair that anything was ever said.

"You need a haircut, Red. This is getting pretty long, even for your mullet head." Lance announced quietly, not halting his motions. Keith was too comfortable to argue.

"I know. But I don't know if I trust anyone here to cut it. And I'm definitely not going to cut it myself, not after you made fun of me last time."

"I couldn't help myself! You were so cute with your hair sticking up all over the place." Lance exclaimed, not meeting Keith's eyes. "But do you really not trust me?" And suddenly there was way too much eye contact and Keith was so uncomfortable, but he knew it was a loaded question, and one he had to answer positively.

"No, I do trust you. Just not with my hair." Lance relaxed at his answer, scratching his fingernails against Keith's temples, smiling as he leaned into the touch. "I'm glad you're my boyfriend, Keith."

Keith's world turned upsidown, but he just smiled and wriggled a little closer to his boyfriend. (His boyfriend!)

"Me too."

So they were boyfriends. And, well. Lance wasn't sure how many people knew about it. For as explosive as the two teenagers were, there was a softness to their relationship that had taken him by surprise. As much as they bickered, when it came down to the bones of the matter, they communicated mostly through quiet looks and subtle touches. So, while maybe not exactly a secret, not everybody immediately knew about the Lance and Keith situation.

Hunk knew, of course. Lance told Hunk everything. Even if he didn't, Hunk would know. That's just how it works. The thing was, Lance had this suspicion that if Hunk knew, Pidge's knowledge would follow shortly. The two spent a scary amount of time science-ing together, and Lance just knew deep down in his soul that Pidge was the biggest gossip he would ever meet. So, yeah. If Hunk knew, Pidge probably knew.

Aside from those two, though, it was mostly up in the air about who knew.

They still teased each other, of course, almost constantly. It was too easy, especially when they knew that the other didn't mean it. Lance would make fun of Keith's hair, which he loved to pet, and Keith would make fun of Lance's jokes, which still never failed to make him laugh. Pidge eventually gave up on correcting them, only rolling their eyes once the two started getting going.

Keith was bad with physical contact. It wasn't something that felt normal to him, or even comfortable at times. Lance was very touchy. It didn't always work. The naptimes helped, because that particular brand of cuddling settled Keith stomach, quieted the part of his brain that screamed at him. (You're not good at this, he'll have expectations, you can't satisfy him, you're not good enough, he'll get tired of waiting for you.) Sometimes Lance threw a leg across the curve of Keith's hips, and that was strangely nice. He never did it when Keith was asleep, only when he was awake to confirm that it was okay, that he was happy being that close together.

Once, when Lance had made it to bed before Keith had, Keith slid in behind Lance, instead of in front of him, and he found that he liked that just as well, if not better. Lance immediately relaxed into Keith's grip, and it was so easy for him to wrap an arm around his waist and nudge a leg in between the two of his. Lance smiled a lot the next day. (So did Keith.)

Lance, for his part, really wanted to kiss Keith. He thought about it constantly, and got yelled at for missing instructions because for all that he had a short attention span, when he wanted something he wanted it. He was determined not to pressure Keith, because the end game was of course to make Keith as happy as possible and that was not something that would come from pressuring him into doing things he wasn't ready for. But oh, how he wanted.

It wasn't like Keith didn't notice the way Lance watched him, wasn't like he was oblivious to the way he attempted to maintain contact with him at all times. And honestly it wasn't like he didn't want to kiss Lance. He did, truly. Just. Not yet. He liked the way things were, how Lance had taught him to be comfortable without any expectations to do anything more. He worried that if they went any further, everything would change. (Lance would notice how incompetent he was, how inexperienced he was, would get tired of him in a week.)

When Keith finally succumbed to the urge to cut his hair, he first sought out Allura, tentatively asking how she cut her hair. His only response was a short laugh and a pat on the shoulder before she returned to what she was doing, as if to say do you really think my hair would be this damn long if I thought I could cut it without losing any of its fabulousness? Keith considered asking Shiro how he maintained his undercut, but soon decided he didn't want to know.

So he brought Lance to his room and handed him one of his knives and said "If you make me look stupid, I'll kill you." And Lance laughed, handed him back his knife, and pulled out a pair of scissors.

"How do you feel about growing your hair long enough to put it in a ponytail?"

In the end, Lance couldn't tease him for it, because to do so would be to insult his own skills, and aside from a few surprised looks when Keith first pulled out a hairband, nobody said anything against the hairstyle. Keith wasn't sure why exactly Lance had suggested the ponytail. It was later that week, when Keith was crawling across Lance to wiggle into bed behind him that Lance tugged on his ponytail, sliding his fingers into the longer hair, and pulled Keith down towards him.

Keith panicked a little, wondering if he had let Lance give him a built-in leash, wondering if he was trapped, but Lance just pulled his head down into the crook of Lance's neck, nudging him until he laid down almost completely on top of him.

"I promise I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, but you're so damn attractive with your hair like this, Red. I don't know if I can handle it." Keith shuddered at Lance's confession, burrowing a little further into the warm and safety of Lance's shoulder. Lance tugged at the hairband until it came out, deftly sliding it onto his wrist so he could comb his fingers through Keith's hair.

They fell asleep like that, Lance carefully cradling Keith against the slender planes of his body, and some of the knots in Keith's stomach unraveled, enough for him to press a kiss against Lance's neck after he was sure Lance was asleep.

It all came to a head when Hunk started making milkshakes. Keith, as it turned out, was lactose intolerant. Thus, Lance didn't think that Keith should have any milkshakes. Keith was absolutely livid.

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not in charge of me!"

"You know I'm only doing this for your own good, idiot!" Lance was standing as straight as he could, both hands high in the air with a milkshake in each hand, doing his best to keep the treat away from Keith.

"You controlling ass, give me the fucking milkshake!"

"Careful with that language, Keith, you don't want Shiro to hear." Pidge snickered, not looking up from their book. Hunk looked on in trepidation, clearly fearing for the fate of the milkshakes.

"I'm not going to let you make yourself sick!"

"I can do whatever I want! It's my body, dipshit!" Keith's face was slowly turning red, unable to reach Lance's full height no matter how far he reached.

"That's ENOUGH!" And shit Shiro had shown up out of nowhere. Lance's eyes grew large and he quickly handed both milkshakes to Hunk, who had been hovering protectively nearby. "I've had it with you two! You're going to need to learn to get along!" Lance had never seen Shiro so angry (Keith had) but he couldn't stop the look of confusion that crossed his face at Shiro's words.

Get along? As in… Shiro didn't know that Keith and Lance more than got along?

Keith and Lance looked at each other, quietly, faces blank. Shiro's hands were on his hips, ever the imposing parental figure. Lance opened his mouth, ready to say something potentially Voltron-shattering, when Keith grabbed him and dipped him in one smooth motion.

Keith's left hand settled above the curve of his hip, his right hand sliding around to support Lance's shoulders. Lance, in all his flair for the dramatic, automatically grasped the back of Keith's neck, slipping his fingers into the thick hair as he loved to do. And? Keith kissed Lance soundly on the mouth, grip on Lance's back shaking as Lance sighed happily into their kiss.

After a moment, Lance pulled away, grinning, his arm tightening around Keith's neck as he leaned back even further to make eye contact with Shiro. Keith did the same, pulling his boyfriend (his boyfriend!) closer so he could glare at Shiro without dropping Lance, daring him to say something.

"Oh uhh by the way," Lance swallowed, continuing on with a slightly stronger voice. "We've been dating for the past few months and we didn't tell you." Pidge stifled a laugh at the bewildered expression on Shiro's face as he regarded them.

There was a moment thick with silence as Shiro seemed to appraise the room at large, the way neither Hunk nor Pidge seemed surprised, the way Keith held Lance so protectively—protective against his judgement, and he nodded.

"Okay." He kept nodding, gave a brief thumbs up, before taking one of the milkshakes from Hunk and leaving the room.

Lance giggled in his relief as he reached up to softly kiss Keith one more time, who allowed a small to grace his lips as he gently lowered Lance to the floor. Lance squeaked in protest at being set on the floor, but was unable to get up before Keith snatched the last milkshake and darted out the door.

I have never written for this fandom before, so let me know what you thought!