The Castle-ship's halls felt too quiet.Lance hated it.
Normally he'd fill the silence with his voice, whether it was teasing Hunk, annoying Pidge, or arguing with Keith just for the sake of it. But after their last mission, a skirmish with the Galra that had gone south—he didn't feel like talking. Not even a joke could cover up the way his hands were still shaking from almost losing a teammate.
Keith.
Lance sat in the training room, leaning against the wall, head tipped back. His armor was scuffed, his helmet discarded at his side. He'd replayed the moment in his head at least a hundred times: Keith diving headfirst into danger, blade flashing, ships exploding around him. He always fought like he had nothing to lose, and it made Lance's chest ache in a way he couldn't explain.
The door then slid open.
"Of course." Speak of the devil, and here he was. Keith, hair damp from a shower, a towel slung around his neck. His usual frown deepened when he noticed Lance.
"You're still here?" Keith asked, voice low, almost careful.
Lance's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk, almost annoyance. "What, am I not allowed to sulk in peace?"
Keith didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he sighed as he crossed the room, boots echoing on the metal floor, and sat a few feet away. Close enough for Lance to feel the warmth radiating off him, but far enough to keep that absolutely frustrating distance Keith always seemed to maintain.
Silence hung between. Lance hated it. He'd rather bicker than sit in quiet, but his throat felt dry, and for once, he didn't have a comeback ready.
Finally, Keith muttered, "You fought well today."
The words caught Lance off guard. Compliments weren't Keith's thing. He blinked and glanced at Keith for a moment before looking away, trying to mask his surprise. "Wow. Did Keith Kogane just compliment me? Should I record this for historical purposes? Maybe get Pidge to code it into the Castle's database?"
Keith rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared just as quickly.
For a fleeting moment, their gazes met. Lance's ocean-blue clashing with Keith's stormy violet—and the silence shifted. It wasn't empty anymore. It was heavy, charged, like the air before lightning struck.
Something unspoken hung between them. Something neither of them was ready to name.
Lance swallowed hard. He hugged his knees to his chest and stared at the ground. "Don't scare me like that ever again." he blurted, voice sharper than he intended.
Keith stiffened, startled. He opened his mouth, closed it, then let out a slow breath. His shoulders eased, and his expression softened, just barely. "I'll...try."
The words were quiet, but Lance heard them as a promise. A promise that Lance would make sure Keith would keep.
He didn't know what to do with the strange twist in his chest—part relief, part frustration, part something else entirely. So, he smirked again, softer this time. "Good. 'Cause I'm not dragging your reckless butt out of a Galra explosion twice in one week."
Keith huffed a small laugh under his breath. And for once, they sat there together, no arguing, no teasing. Just two paladins in the silence of the Castle, both pretending not to notice how their walls had cracked, just a little.
And that was the beginning of it. The shift neither of them wanted to admit, the collision course they couldn't escape.