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His name was glowing on the panel.
Under the FIGHTER PILOT column, the name LANCE MCLAIN was there.
“I made it!” He yelled, “I’m a fighter pilot!” Lance proceeded to dance, his excitement unable to keep within the confines of his skin.
Dear Mr Keith Dropout Kogane,
I would like to thank you for getting booted out of the Garrison.
(i don’t know what you did, but i will be forever thankful)
(did you bite Iverson? you look like you bite people)
(or did you punch Iverson. his good eye is looking a bit squinty)
Because in doing this, you gave me a position! Me! Lance. Imagine flunking out and giving your rival your position. Like. Here you are, acting all cool and brooding and unaffected by everything and sick of everyone and pretending you’re better than me and look where we are now…
I would feel a bit bad if you weren’t such a tool.
But I’m not writing this to think about your stupid decision. I am here to rub it in your face that I will finally be better than you! No more Cargo Pilot Lance. I am now officially a Fighter Pilot. And mark my words, I’m going to be the best fighter pilot you’ve ever seen. I’m gonna go like up and down and do a cool thread the needle and I’m one day gonna go up for a space mission and I’m going to make a name for myself, and I really should also be thanking you because you made this possible. But don’t worry your annoying little head, I’ll one day pilot a skywriter and release some message into the sky. Maybe:
THANK YOU KEITH FOR BEING SUCH A DOUCHE THAT YOU ALLOWED ME TO ACHIEVE MY DREAMS!
I think that would look great against the sky. And then, wherever you are, I hope you raise your first into the air and yell, “Darn you, Lance! You are so amazing!” And then you would probably flick that atrocious mullet of yours connected to that annoyingly beau ANNOYING, TOTALLY ANNOYING face. So, ha! Take that, Keith.
Maybe our paths will cross again. Maybe you are actually an alien, and I get to fight you one day. Oh, I can’t wait for that. Then maybe I could do a few tricks in my plane to show you how cool I am. If I ever see you again, I challenge you to a race. Real rival style. And I’ll prove to you how much I deserve to be in Fighter Class.
And I have no idea how I will ever send this to you. I don’t even know where you went. Where did you go, oh Keith? If I search up where someone goes when their life goes to shit, would it point me in your direction? Maybe you are hiding under the floorboards of the Garrison and are sneaking food from the kitchen – wait, that would actually be kinda dope – if you are and actually read this, leave out three cups of noodles on Saturday, so I know you exist.
Sincerely,
Someone who is better than you (Lance McClain – and don’t you forget it)
“Beer!” They both cheer.
dear keith k. i am well passed the required limit of driks nd thought it fitting to share my new p ublic news w u
i'm gay!
Bye bi, actually. you get the gist.
i jt came out to huk and we had celebraton drinks and i thought, "hey, remeber the time hottie keith dropped out and you wrote him a letter? write im another!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so, hello there keith, i am lance mclain, the out bisexual.
ive known for a while but was scared bc some of my fam is v traditional. i think my abuela is a flaming homophobe. so they all dont know yet. but i was excited after telling hunk so i tought I too would tel you. so yes.
Well...Hello again, Letter Keith. If I ever have to explain my reasoning for writing you a letter at two in the morning after three beers we snagged off an upperclassman, I would have no idea what to say. But the page is only half-filled and it was on my bedside table when I woke up. And it was bugging me. Like. I can't just write you a half letter. If I'm coming out to you, I'm going to give you the long backstory (I'm actually not because I think I am still a bit hungover even though it's one now)
So, I am a bisexual man. I've known for about a year or two. Actually, I guess the word 'known' is a bit of an exaggeration (and boy, do I love exaggerating) because, like, it took a while to 'know', you know. You probably don't. But yeah. Like I would see a hot guy and be like, 'oh, he's hot' and then tell myself I was just jealous of him like I just wanted his skills as a pilot and didn't want to play with his mullet, yeah.
You could say it was difficult. And that little voice in my head still sometimes says that my thoughts aren't real and genuine. Especially since I haven't even kissed a boy, so like, how can I be sure? But I know that's just like, years of heteronormativity wired into my brain. But yes.
Again. I don't really know why I wrote this to you. I guess I find some comfort knowing I can write this shit down to you, and you will never read this (because if you did, you would run for the hills). I think that's it. Because it's not even like we talked much when you were here.
Anyways. Into the drawer it goes.
Lance.
Iverson’s face was steely, terrifying as it loomed over Lance. “I hope I don’t need to remind you that the only reason you’re here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out,” he barked, and if Lance weren’t so embarrassed, he would have rolled his eyes and said, yeah, like I haven’t heard that before! But he was, so he stood still. Iverson gave his final word of warning, “Don’t follow in his footsteps.”
Dear Keith,
I have discovered since my last letter that writing to pseudo-you is quite stress-relieving. So, after getting a spray from Iverson today, I am writing to you in a letter that you will never get, which is for the best because you would probably think I am crazy.
I don’t know, man, maybe I am? Because I’m happy flying, don’t get me wrong. But. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I won’t live up to everyone’s expectations. Like. My parents busted their balls, getting me into the Garrison, and I’m worried it was all for nothing. I think maybe we can relate to each other in this aspect – I know you had a reputation of being the best. I sorta understand you cracking under that sort of pressure.
If I’m being honest, Fake Keith, I just feel kinda bummed out. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because it’s not like you can help me, or ever would. But yeah. Each day I feel like I am pushing against a brick wall, and it won’t fucking budge, and everyone has already broken it down, and I’m stuck on the other side doing shit all because I’m not good enough. I know you probably don’t remember her, but I should stop listening to that commander Lenel and all her perseverance bullshit because I literally just spewed her brick wall metaphor.
So, we will now pretend that the messages above were never written, and I will find solace in the knowledge that this letter will be scrunched up along with the first and second one, in the dark depths of my bedside table for no one to see.
Hunk and I are about to go out. You probably don’t remember Hunk. He is a good friend. He vomited today in our sim, but it doesn’t really matter because it was my fault we fucked up.
I have the first letter I wrote to you next to me, and, man, just rereading it, I’m sorry for being such a douche. I am sometimes like that. I know why, and, unfortunately, Letter Keith, we are not at that point in our relationship where I can comfortably delve into my deep-rooted insecurity issues and how I feel like I’m worthless my stuff. My stuff. I think I may have just been in a cocky mood. I’m kinda in a Mood right now. I don’t know why. Maybe the Garrison just isn’t right for me. But I want it to be. I love flying and I love being behind the wheel and everything, but I just feel restless.
I just want something to happen, you know? Maybe you don’t.
Lance McClain, your resident idiot.
“Here’s an option for you: shut you quiznak!” Lance says, motioning zipping his lips. Behind him, he hears Coran and Allura let out a noise of shock, but he ignores them in favour of staring down Keith.
“I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.” Lance all but tackles him, because Keith is so annoying, with that deep voice and careless posture.
“What do you know, Mullet!”
DEAR MULLET MCFUCKFACE!
I don’t know if anyone has told you this before. BUT YOU ARE INSUFFERABLE. SO INSUFFERABLE. And I have so many siblings and cousins. And I’m the youngest!
I’ve been dacked, pushed down stairs, pushed out of trees, exiled to forever be at the kids’ table, stuck in the boot of the car because I’m the ‘smallest’ and literally everything else annoying older siblings can do. But NEVER. NEVER EVER. Have my siblings infuriated me as much as you do? How do you do it???? Are you some fucking robot (already very believable because I don’t think you are capable of emotions other than angry and disgruntled) that has programming to ‘ANNOY LANCE’?
Did Pidge make you? Did I already get captured by the Galra, and did they push me into some black hole where I am subject to torture?
I DARE YOU TO SHOOT DOWN ANOTHER ONE OF MY PLANS!!! I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU BECAUSE NEXT TIME. I MIGHT AS WELL JUST TAKE MY BAYARD AND HIT YOU WITH IT. MAYBE BLUE AND RED CAN HAVE A LITTLE ONE V ONE. BITCH!
After hours of reflection, I have realised that you are annoying. Very annoying. I also found out where you went after you dropped out. I also found out you have some sense of style. Cool jacket btw. So here I am appreciating you, even after you were a dickhead. This letter really just proved how successful my letter-writing-ranting helps me. So once again, thank you, pseudo-Keith.
It’s kinda weird now, writing this letter to you when you are sleeping in a room not far from mine. Also the fact that I’ve like, properly spoken to you, like face to face, for real. And the more I think about it. The more uncomfortable and childish I feel. So.
Goodbye, Letter Keith, this will probably be my last. I should probably find a way to shred this so you can never read it. Now I can only talk to you in real life – and never voice my true feelings.
Weird to say it, but I’ll kinda of miss this.
Lance McClain, signing off. (btw, I can’t believe you called me the worst pilot ever. I am where I am because of you).
Keith walks into the main room. His head is already down; he can already feel the shame washing over him. “I heard what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.” It comes out dejectedly, and he doesn’t mean it to. But the mask Keith so intricately made, piece by piece as he was cycled through foster homes and while by himself, cracked and shattered as he saw the looks on his teammates’ faces. Keith knows he made a few mistakes and knows he wasn’t always there, but the looks on the others’ faces make his stomach drop. They were all stony-faced, if stone could hold weeks of pent-up anger and annoyance, and if it was washed with disapproval. It hurt. It really, really hurt.
Allura shoots back quickly, “You keep saying you’re sorry, but your actions say otherwise.” Her annoyance practically drips off her tongue. “Do you realise your absence put the team in jeopardy?”
It’s a stupid question, because of course, Keith knows. But he also knows the work of the Blade of Marmora is important, vital in winning this war. “And not just the team,” Lance says, and Keith feels like he has been slapped in the face. “The refugees as well.”
“Matter of fact, the entire quadrant was in danger!” Pidge adds to Keith’s guilt. He feels weighed down by it now.
He tries to explain and remind the team that he isn’t fit to be the leader. He never was.
“Is that why you’ve been pulling away from us?” Allura asks. Her annoyance is only an undertone now; curiosity now overpowers it.
“Yeah,” Keith admits, and his eyes flicker over to Lance before he can help it. “I supposed that’s part of it.”
That prompts more questions, and Keith reveals what the Blades are working on. “If there is a chance…We have…I have,” he corrects, “to take it. I need to be on that mission.”
“If this is what you feel is right, then we won’t try to stop you. but just know that we’re here for you whenever you need us.” Shiro speaks earnestly with a hand on Keith’s shoulder. It comforts him.
“I know you are. And I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” They clasp hands, then hug, and Keith relaxes at the touch like he always does with Shiro. Because Shiro was there for him when he had nowhere to go. Shiro was there for Keith, forever and always.
Over Shiro’s shoulder, Keith swears he can see tears shimmering in the other’s eyes. Well, in regard to Hunk, Coran, Allura and Pidge. Lance’s face looks sort of calculating but not in the way of a meddler. No, it seems like he is thinking methodically through something like he is planning what to do next from here, and Keith feels a tiny pang in his heart. He thinks that Lance doesn’t care if he leaves because he probably would forget Keith anyways. Keith burrows further into Shiro’s shoulder to stop looking at Lance.
But then suddenly, Keith is squished among several bodies, Lance’s included. They all crowd around him, and Keith can feel the dopey smile on his face because he thinks he found a family in this team. Actually, he knows he has.
“We’re really gonna miss you,” Pidge says, and, fuck, if Keith doesn’t agree.
“Yeah,” Lance says from right next to him. His chin is resting on Keith’s head, no doubt his competitive subconscious trying to show Keith he is taller, which he is, but only by a few inches. “Who am I going to make fun of?” Lance’s tone is devoid of its usually teasing manner. It sounds more reminiscent like he is thinking of all their little scabbles, fights, and competitions and how they won’t happen again. Keith thinks about it too, and his stomach clenches because he will miss Lance. Sometimes he is such a headache, but he will. At the start of this weird journey, Keith hated Lance for his arrogance and cockiness, for his general jabs at Keith and how it made Keith feel excluded. But as time went on, they became friends, they had their bonding moments, and they became friends. So, yeah. Keith will miss Lance.
“I know you’ll make us proud,” Allura assures, and Keith hopes he does.
And when they separate, Keith has a smile on his face. He does, right up until he turns away, and it falls. Because, while it isn’t a final goodbye, he can’t help but feel like it might be one. He can’t help but feel he is losing a family he just found.
Keith walks to his room with a frown and begins to pack up his stuff.
I miss you, Keith.
I guess I’m back to writing you letters. Well, imaginary-you. I don’t even know if I could send this to the Blades. Would they think I’m some intergalactic spammer who is trying to hack their information? If they did, it would be stupid of them. It’s Pidge they should be worried about.
Anyways. I hope you have a BOM at the BOM!!!
(I am so excited to use that joke. I’ve been sitting on it for so long, and it feels so good to say it finally – write it? – whatever)
In these letters, I’m always honest, right, because it’s not like you’re actually gonna read it, right? So, I’ll come out and say it.
I really, really miss you.
I know, I know. If you were to read this, you’d probably laugh in my face and say how stupid I am, but it’s the truth.
And on the tendency of being stupid. Allow me to explain why I miss you (why do I do this to myself?)
Firstly, I really was being honest when I said I would have no one to tease anymore.
Like sure, I can chirp Hunk and Pidge, but it’s not the same. Coran and Allura don’t always get my jokes. I also value my life, so I’m not gonna start taking the piss out of Shiro. So, yeah. I perhaps miss your stupid mullet that I used to make fun of. Or your obsession with knives (knives, really?). Or your cropped jacket, which you say you grew out of, but I know you accidentally bought a cropped jacket, and because you were hollowed up in some shack, no one told you.
So, yeah, I’m getting bored without you to make fun of. Maybe Pidge will grow a mullet out so I can call her a rejected 80s popstar. Wouldn’t be the same, though.
Secondly, it’s weirdly quiet in the mornings now.
Like, you never really spoke that much, but I got used to you in the training room every morning like you grunting and swearing. Now when I walk past the room, it’s always so empty that I almost feel like I should train more to compensate for the space. It’s kinda funny I say that because I have been training more. I’m trying to get used to your bayard and Red and how to be a better right arm to Shiro. It feels like a lot of pressure, and Shiro sorta seems different and more intense, and I don’t know. I’m getting those feelings I used to have at the Garrison more than ever. The ones I told you about in another letter - that feeling of uselessness. Like I’m not good enough. So, I’ve been busting my butt each day in that godforsaken training room, and I swear, sometimes I see you lounging in the corner, taunting me and encouraging me to keep fighting. Thanks, I guess.
Thirdly, I think my room is haunted. And before you say anything, it is definitely your fault.
Before you left, I was ghost free and peachy. Peachy! Keith! And now, I swear my door has been randomly opening. I came back from my shower yesterday, and I was GETTING CHANGED and then suddenly, MY DOOR OPENED. And I was butt naked in front of Hunk. Thank god it was Hunk because at least he’s seen all my goods before. Imagine if I was Allura! Or Shiro! Fuck, I would probably send myself into space without my suit. So, you might be thinking, “How is this my fault” well, it just is. Like. Before, when you were here, none of this stuff happened, and now you are gone, and it does. I know you have pale skin, and I have wondered if you have an affiliation with the dark arts, so, like, have you cursed me?
And I guess fourthly is when I can no longer mask my feelings with humour.
Fourthly, I miss you because I like you.
And, unfortunately, in that way.
Maybe if you were reading this, you would think, “Lance, why ‘unfortunately’, you’re a hotshot!” (we both know you wouldn’t actually say this), but what I’m thinking is that I’m fucking terrified.
For a few reasons. And I have nothing but time in the void of the night, and I cried before because I needed to, and I feel exhausted and can’t sleep, and I keep thinking about you so here:
I like you in that way, and it will never work. That’s why I’m scared. Because my feelings are just going to be there, and you will just overlook them, and I’ll be sad.
Because through deep reflection, I realised my constant teasing was because I was inexplicably head over heels for you.
I wrote that first letter to you to gloat, when really it was so I could prove myself to you, to make myself believe that one day I could be as good as you, and one day, maybe you would see me as an equal.
I came out to you because I was harbouring some deep, hidden crush for you and wanted to tell you I liked guys, so you knew I was an option if, by some crazy chance, you liked guys too.
I yelled/scribbled at you because I hated when you undermined me because you made me feel like shit. You made me feel like we could never be friends because you thought I was just some dumb kid. And don’t get me wrong, I was stupid with all the rivalry stuff, but I thought that if I constantly tried to compete with you, I would be on your mind. I guess I saw it as some sort of payback. You were always on my mind, so I always wanted to be on yours.
Stupid, I know.
And, since my cards are already spread on the table for you to see, I wanted to tell you how I felt. I had a plan, too. But…then Shiro left, and you got really anxious, and I could tell you weren’t in a good place, so I was just there for you as a friend. Then he came back, and you were happy, but something was still off, and then your Blade work picked up, and then you were never around, and I knew I missed my chance.
Maybe I’m just making excuses for myself, but I wanted it to be special. But I didn’t time it right.
Since I cannot tell you how I feel in person and I can’t let my excellent plan play out, I’m going to write it down, to you Letter Keith, a shitty substitute for the real one. But at least it’s something.
My plan was this:
You remember the pool? The upside-down one? Well, I asked Coran if there was any way to swim in it, and he gave me this really complex lecture and a few pamphlets, and in the end, all I had to do was push a button. That man, I swear.
I thought one night I would knock on your door in my trunks (looking mega-hot, by the way) and saying something cool and sexy like, “Wanna join me for a swim?” And you would blush that way you sometimes do, and I know you never blush because of me, but sometimes I like to think you do. You would then close your door, get changed, then meet me again, and we would walk to the pool. We would be talking and stumbling around in the dark and laughing because we were talking too loud and for sure going to wake someone up.
Then we would reach the pool, and I press that button, and we can swim in it. We spend a while just in silence, doing leisurely laps and splashing each other occasionally. And then, because I just can’t help it, I would challenge you to a race (and obviously win).
We would have such a fun night, and then I’d walk you back to your room, and you would say something like “I had a lot of fun tonight”, and I would be like “, Of course, you did”, and you would laugh that beautiful laugh at me, and I just know I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself any longer. Either I’d blurt out something stupid like “I really, really like you” or just flat out kiss you.
And that’s where my plan ends. I don’t like thinking about what will happen next because I know you don’t feel the same way, and I don’t want to subject myself to sadness in my own fantasy, so I stop the tape there.
I know that all sounds stupid, but if I’m being honest, I’m really sad I never got to take you for a swim.
So, yeah.
You’re away now, and I guess it was never meant to be. And while I didn’t plan this at the start of this letter, I think this is my last thing for you.
As much as it pains me to think this and write this.
Keith, I’m letting you go.
I know it’s sort of a wimpy thing to do. Since I never really had you, I was too scared to. But you’ll be away, and we won’t be able to talk, and this crush will be a burden on me, so I’m going to try to let you go (keyword there is try). I think it’s for the best.
I know I said this last letter, but I guess this really is it.
I’ll miss you, real Keith and Letter Keith.
Maybe when this is all done, I might have better luck.
Love,
Lance McClain.
"Have you gotten in touch with anyone else?" Pidge asks. "Or am I just the lucky person?"
Keith tries to hide the guilt on his face. "I've spoken to Hunk a bit," He mumbles. "He catered this Blade meeting a while ago. And I always speak to Shiro. You know how my brother is."
Pidge is still looking expectantly at him like they are waiting for him to say more.
"That's it."
"I think you forget about a certain paladin. You might remember him. About yay high, brown hair, Cuban, the boy you've been crushing over since like. Forever!"
"Shut up, Pidge." Keith's comment has no real malice, and it's hard to have some when his cheeks are burning so bright.
"The war is over, Keith. You have no excuse to hide your feelings anymore." They walk a circle around his chair. Both are currently in Pidge's workroom, and they invited Keith over for a visit to check out their new gadgets. And Keith had a few free days, so he travelled back to Earth. "You're not going to jeopardise the team with your love for Lance," They deftly dodge the swipe Keith makes at them. "I don't see why you haven't spoken to him."
"It's not that simple," Keith admits, though not truthfully.
"That's a lie."
Keith knows it is.
He hasn't spoken to Lance in about four months since they all said their goodbyes after the war and went their separate ways.
In Keith's defence, he had been busy. He hoped to transform the Blade of Marmora into some sort of relief organisation to help the planets rebuild their civilisations. He had also taken many trips to Daibazaal, trying to see where the Galran's loyalties lie before him, Krolia and Kolivan try making any significant changes. He was busy, but he still could have visited Earth more.
Acxa, who had become his sort of right hand, frequently went to Earth – Keith could have easily hopped in her ship since they were going to the same place, not just planet wise, but neighbourhood-wise. It turns out during their days on the Atlas, Veronica McClain and Acxa really hit it off and now were dating. So, Keith could have easily bumped a ride to Lance and confess his undying love to him. But he never did.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you should start thinking and caring about yourself a bit more. No offence, but you've never really been good at it."
And again, Keith scowls, but it is ineffective because he knows Pidge is right.
"Okay. Idea time!" They exclaim and run off. Keith just sits there, now used to Pidge's weird antics.
In his minute of silence, Keith thinks.
He has liked Lance for a while, but their stars never aligned despite being in multiple galaxies and solar systems. Keith's timing was always wrong – like he would leave for a Blade mission and be away for a while and lose the nerve he had worked up to talk to Lance. It was a stab in the gut every time Lance flirted with some alien or even Allura. And Keith would feel guilty feeling that way, knowing he had no right to. And then Lance and Allura got together. Keith tried to be happy for them. He really did. But it still hurt. It was like that set it all in stone: Keith and Lance simply weren't meant to be.
He came to that realisation a while ago, so he feels no urgency to confess his feelings. Keith also feels guilty. It's only been four months still everything ended. Since Allura died. And Keith knows how heartbroken they all were over it, especially Lance. He feels almost disrespectful having these feelings for Lance, like Lance's heart belonged to Allura, and here Keith is, trying to take it for himself.
Keith is taken out of his thoughts by a loud smack on Pidge's table. He looks down and sees a notepad and pen.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Keith, I know you aren't stupid. It's a pen and paper. Suppose you can't talk to Lance face to face. Write him a letter. And I can send it to him before you leave."
Keith just looks at them wearily.
"It's a good idea!" Pidge defends. "Because. Either he writes back and confesses his mutual undying love for you. Or it gets lost in the mail, and there are no hard feelings! See, I'm not called a genius for nothing. And besides," And their tone turns softer, more comforting, "I used to do this when we were looking for my dad and Matt. It really helped me."
"If I do it, will you stop bugging me about Lance?" The question is pointless because he knows Pidge won't stop until they're satisfied, which, in their mind, is probably only achievable with a wedding.
"Of course!" And Pidge is grinning that mischievous grin that means they most definitely won't.
"Fine," Keith exhales and picks up the pen. "I'm not doing it if you keep peering over my shoulder. So, scram."
"I'll do whatever you want as long as it means that letter is written," they say as they exit.
Dear Lance,
I’ll be honest, I haven’t written many letters before, so I apologise if this is a bit all over the place.
I guess I better start by saying hey. I know I’ve kind of being MIA these past couple of months. I immersed myself in work to try to feel some normalcy after everything that happened. I hope you are coping well. Hunk actually catered for a Blade meeting and said he used some of the products you are growing and, well, shit, it was so good. Not just Hunk’s cooking, but the fruits and vegetables themselves. I swear I haven’t been so happy to eat brussels sprouts in my life. So, from what I can assume, you are going well, and despite me not really being present these past couple of months, if you ever need to talk, I’m just a Pidge gadget away.
These next couple of months are a bit quieter for me, and I was thinking of maybe visiting Earth for a bit. I’m gonna come down with Acxa when she sees your sister, who, by the way, are a very cute couple. I don’t know if you’ve seen any of the photos they took on Kinkade’s camera on the Atlas, but they remind me of that time you and I hijacked one of Pidge’s cameras and took pictures with. Remember how we snuck up on Hunk? And filmed Coran doing that weird interpretive dance? Anyways, they are pretty cute, and Acxa visits often, and I have been told I need to start taking more breaks, so hopefully, I will see you more often.
And I needed your advice on something, and I know it’s sort of idiotic, and I practically already know your answer. But say…perhaps. An ex-paladin of Voltron casually says to the staff working at the Pyramids of Giza that it was extremely vital that he is allowed into all of them to discover their secrets and then go on a hunt for Bigfoot. They would let him. Right? In one of my trips back to Earth, I revisited my shack and took a few of my old conspiracy books; needless to say, I am rapt in them once again. And perhaps, if you think this certain paladin would be allowed, would you like to come with him when we have free time? On a little conspiracy adventure. Even if you say no, I bet I could convince you by challenging you to see who could prove more theories about things than the other. You never could step down from a challenge. I guess I can also say the same for myself.
I know Shiro always says that “Patience yields focus”, but there are some things I’ve been waiting to tell you for a while. And as time goes on, I don’t gain any focus; instead, I just lose my nerve. I know you were never good with having patience, but if you somehow find it read this. Thank you.
And…If you don’t feel the same, nothing has to change. You can easily just discard his letter and never speak of this again.
I guess I should add some background, even if it is just for stalling purposes.
“Remember, Keith, don’t be emotionally constipated!”
Fuck off, Pidge!”
I still remember so vividly that day we rescued Shiro, and you were chirping me about this rivalry fuckery, and I just thought, “What a douche”. And I know I probably was a bit of a douche to you for a bit, but I guess I got so used to just being alone that then being suddenly surrounded by people in an alien ship was really fucking weird.
Then we become friends. I’m so glad we did. Even if I only had a few, you were someone I could call my best friend. I know it all happened in weird circumstances, but I am happy it happened as it did.
As we began to develop our friendship, I also developed feelings for you. And I have just been yelled at for being “Emotionally constipated”, so I’ll do my best in these next couple lines.
I berated myself about them, saying if I ever were to confess, the team would break apart, and it would be all my fault because I let my stupid emotions get in the way. So, I never told you.
And I regret it.
I feared my feelings because I’d never felt so strongly for anyone before. And I was scared because I knew you didn’t feel the same about me.
Although stars surrounded us, they never seemed to line up for me.
Then I left for a while.
At least, it was a while for me. I was on that space creature with my mother in those two years; I thought about you. A lot. Embarrassingly so. Because I thought I had missed my chance and forced myself to get over you. Lance, I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but you are so hard to get over. What, with your smile and laugh and your personality and pretty much everything about you.
Then I came back.
And if we weren’t in a war, I think I may have told you then. And maybe I still should have told you. But I didn’t.
I knew I had missed my chance then. Because I saw you were getting close with Allura, and I was worried.
I don’t know if you remember Bob and Garfle Warfle Snick, but I do. In the last segment, we had to say who we thought should be let out, and you voted for me. I’ll never forget that. You said I was the future. As embarrassing it is to say, when you said that, it was really nice. And it was so nice that I lost my nerve, once again. Because I had already voted for you, I was going to say you should be let out because you are so great with people, and if anyone could talk the Galra out of the war, it was you. I voted for you because I believe you’re a great guy, and you have family back on Earth, and I know you could amount to so much. And, deep down, I voted for you because I couldn’t imagine a reality without you in it.
I never said that. Any of it. It was shitty of me, but I hope you can read it now and know that’s what I really meant.
So, when the war ended, everyone’s life felt upside down, weird and different.
I know it’s only been four months, but I do miss speaking to you.
I sort of miss when you would pop your head into my training room, and I think you thought I didn’t see you, but I did. I always did. I miss sitting next to you at dinner and you trying to snatch food off my plate and then me stepping on your foot. I liked having a room near yours, even if you spoke to yourself loudly. I guess I just miss you being there, no matter how annoying you sometimes were.
The reason I haven’t spoken to you is the same reason I never really talk to anyone. I hate letting people into my life because I fear they are just going to leave or walk out.
I never want that to happen with you, with any of the team.
So, I push people away. And I don’t want to do that to you anymore. Because you don’t deserve it, but, also, I wouldn’t say I like doing it.
And maybe this letter is boarding being long-winded. I’m sorry like I said, I’ve never really written a letter before.
Before I said, I felt like I could never tell you my feelings because the time wasn’t right, the stars weren’t in their places. Maybe the reason for that was because we were looking at the wrong stars. These other stars surrounded us with other planets and other destines. And what if we never needed those other stars? What if our stars were always aligned here, on Earth?
I guess that’s all I have to say.
Love,
Keith.
“Oh, Keith, who knew you could be such a sap!” Keith must have been so focused on his letter-writing that he didn’t even hear Pidge enter the room because here they were, reading over his shoulder.
“Why did you do that?” He asks defensively, clutching the letter to his chest and turning to face Pidge.
“I had to make sure you actually wrote something of substance.”
Keith grumbles and shoves the letter into Pidge’s hands, “Just. Take it and send it.”
He is expecting them to laugh or say they are proud of him, but Pidge stays silent. When Keith looks back at them, their face is contorted into that smile again.
“Sorry, buddy,” Pidge says mockingly while placing the paper back in Keith’s hands. “Turns out the post isn’t running today.” They try to frown, but it seems their lips are permanently quirked up.
“No, it’s fine, just throw it o-”
“Never!” Pidge gasps, laughing a bit now. “You just have to hand deliver it.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Yes, you are! And look, while you were writing, I made you an escort.” With a click of their fingers, their new creation reveals itself.
“A cat?”
Pidge looks almost offended as they pick up the sleek robot. It really does just look like a cat from the outside, except it’s made of metal and has wire eyes.
“Her name is Piper, and she is your escort.”
“Escort?”
“I know you are too much of a wimp to give Lance the letter yourself, so I’ve programmed Piper to lead you there and not let you come back until the letter is in Lance’s possession.”
“This feels like a violation.”
Pidge just shrugs and waves a hand. “Whatever.”
They then go about clipping a lead onto Piper’s neck and gives her off to Keith.
“This is s-”
“Walk the fucking cat, Keith.”
Keith walks the cat. Actually, Piper more walks him. He has no idea where he is going or how long this will take, but the cat seems to know. So, he allows himself to be tugged along and tries to forget that sick feeling in his stomach.
It was probably about half an hour later that they reach the house. Keith knows they have reached their destination because the house practically screams Lance. It’s a pale blue, and the mailbox has a lion on it, Blue. There are drawings of stars all around it. Keith smiles at that.
He doesn’t really get time to look around the outside because Piper is marching up to the door and scratching a paw down in. Keith goes to reprimand her, although he isn’t even sure if she would listen, for ruining Lance’s door, but he never gets the chance. Because as he opens his mouth, the door swings open.
Lance is there. Right in front of Keith. And for the first second, he has that cordial smile that is just fitted onto his face, but then he realises who is in front of him. The smile grows until it wrinkles his eyes and makes his new Altean marks scrunch up too. Keith feels his face form into a smile.
“Hi, Lance,” he says, and it comes out breathily.
Lance doesn’t even reply. He just jumps outside and tackles Keith with a hug while laughing. “What the fuck, man? It’s been too long.” Lance’s face is hidden by Keith’s shoulder, but Keith can still hear his smile.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” At that moment, Keith realises he’s been stupid because this is Lance. Caring, loving Lance, who Keith loves, and he shouldn’t be scared about telling Lance.
“Like hell you are.” And then Lance is ushering him inside, barely sparing a glance at Piper because his eyes are trained on Keith.
They walk to the living room couch in silence. They sit across from each other, so they both can look at each other.
“Hi,” Keith repeats.
“Hi,” Lance echoes, a bit more subdued now, but he is still grinning like crazy. “I’ve missed you. How have you been?”
“Good, good. What about you?”
“Not too bad.”
“Cool.”
They fall back into silence. Keith takes to fiddling with the paper in his hands, and then he remembers, yes, I’m here to do something other than look at Lance.
“I-uh. I sort of have something for you.”
Lance’s eyes widen. “What is it?”
“Well. I didn’t expect I would actually see you face to face so I wrote you this letter. But I kind of feel stupid giving it to you know.” Keith sees Lances face change, and he isn’t sure if it was now hopeful or disappointed. Keith never was good with reading Lance. “Um. I don’t think I would even be able to read it out to you, and I kinda hate Pidge right now because I really don’t think I can see your reaction.”
“Keith, you’re rambling. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I-just.” Keith shoves the paper into Lance’s hands. “You don’t have to open it right now. Or ever. But if you decide to, just make sure I’m not here.” His hands are sweating, and his skin feels on fire. He is an adult now, yet he is still blushing in front of his crush. Keith just knows he is utterly hopeless.
“How about I give you a few letters, and you can read them while I read this?” Letters. Why does Lance also have letters to Keith? He doesn’t dwell, just nods, thankful that even though the war has ended, Lance can still think so well on his feet and save Keith’s ass.
“Some forewarning,” Lance says as he walks back into the room, a short stack of letters in hand. “I used to write these to you when I got mad because…Well, you can just read them. The last one sorta explains it all. I never planned on giving you these. I just kinda wrote them when I felt like it. I wrote the first three at the Garrison, and when we came back, they must have found them because they were in my box. And I kept the last two. So here.”
Keith just looks at them in his hands. “I’ll give you a head start,” Lance offers. “Those have a few years of angst wrapped up in them.”
“Okay,” Keith says, and his voice is croaky.
Within the first two seconds of reading the first letter, Keith scoffs. He flips it over to Lance and says, “Real mature.”
Dear Mr Keith Dropout Kogane,
I would like to thank you for getting booted out of the Garrison.
“I was a dickhead in the first two,” Lance says it with such confidence that Keith can’t help but think he has the words of these pages memorised.
“Why did you never send them?”
“Oh, you’ll realise very soon.”
While Keith is reading, he is still talking to Lance, teasing him for his childishness and both laughing at his comments. It felt nice. Comfortable.
He then reads the second and looks at Lance as he reads aloud his drunken words.
They make a thing out of it as Lance gets beers out of the fridge, and they settle into the couch.
“Oh, what does this say here?” Keith asks Lance, pointing at the scribbled-out line on the second letter.
“Nothing important,” He dismisses.
Like I would see a hot guy and be like, ‘oh, he’s hot’ and then tell myself I was just jealous of him like I just wanted his skills as a pilot and didn’t want to play with his mullet
Keith’s mood darkens as he reads the third letter. His face has fallen into a frown as he reads about Lance’s insecurities. He can see Lance fidgeting in the corner of his eye, no doubt uncomfortable.
When he gets to the fourth letter, he chuckles again. “You really called me Mullet McFuckFace!”
Lance laughs too, “I was mad,” he defends.
Lance holds out the fifth letter when he is done. “I think it’s best if I read your letter now.”
“Oh, yeah,” Keith says reluctantly because he is having such a good time that he can’t help but think Lance reading his letter would ruin it. “Listen, Lance. If you read it – if it makes you uncomfortable. We can just forget about it.”
Again, Lance’s face turns confusing, but he shakes it off. “I promise. But it probably won’t.”
They sit at opposite ends of the couch and read each other’s letters.
Lance can feel his heart in his throat.
Keith is reading his letters.
Keith is reading his letters. The letters Keith was never meant to read. And Lance silently scolds himself for ever giving Keith them because he is going to read that last one and realise how utterly in love Lance was with him and then stop talking to Lance forever, and Lance will die alone with only the memory of his friends.
Breathe , he reminds himself and begins Keith’s letter.
Dear Lance,
I’ll be honest, I haven’t written many letters before, so I apologise if this is a bit all over the place.
Keith finishes first. He was always the fast reader.
He doesn’t know what to do. Lance’s letter didn’t make it very clear. He said he was letting Keith go; did he mean forever? Would Keith never get a chance?
So, he sat there, fidgety and excited and also terrified, and he knew nothing of what was to happen next.
But that all changed as Lance finished reading, his eyes starry.
He threw the letter out of his hands and lunged at Keith.
“I love you,” Lance says confidently with a smile. “Of course, I do. And I’ve always had patience for you. I have since the day I fell in love with you.”
And every anxiety Keith ever had about the topic left him. “I love you, too.” He said and closed the gaps between their lips.
Keith was right, after all. The stars were in their favour on Earth.