Everyone knows Keith is an adrenaline seeker. He’s the poster child for jumping into a reckless situation, fire at his back and danger at his front, a blazing comet that won’t let anything stop his path.
What people don’t realize is that Lance is cut from the same cloth. It wouldn’t be a proper rivalry if it wasn’t interesting, if Lance couldn’t rise to Keith’s raging passion. If Keith is a blaze through the night sky, Lance is a tsunami, a buildup of deep-sea pressure before a volcanic eruption.
He’s felt this way long before Voltron. When he was a kid, he desperately yearned for the feeling of a plane landing. While most gripped their armrests and sucked in a breath, he’d lean forward into the sensation, the bumpy tug at his heart as he floated for just a moment.
Maybe that was why he wanted to fly so badly.
He’d first flown on an airplane when he was 12. His mother had seen the starstruck look in his eyes, the way his hand itched as the plane took off. Helpless to stop him she’d instead directed him to the pilot, who gave him a junior pilot badge. God, Lance had been thrilled.
Voltron hadn’t done much to mitigate his desire for danger. If anything, it kept delivering thrills in small doses and then removing them, leaving him chasing something intangible.
He’d seen the fear flash in his teammate’s eyes when he pulled reckless stunts on those rare occasions he’d erupt. After a particularly dangerous one, Keith had even lectured him in front of the whole team. The irony of that hadn’t been lost on Lance. If only Keith knew the easiest way for Lance to chase that gut-swooping, all-consuming, addicting feeling was by chasing Keith himself.
Their push-pull dynamic electrified Lance from the inside out. Sometimes, getting a rise and a challenge out of a Keith was enough to satisfy the fire that tugged at Lance’s ribs. Occasionally even that wasn’t enough for him.
That’s how Lance found himself at Keith’s right hand, riding the comet’s tail. In some ways, Keith’s presence started to relax Lance’s relentless thrum. In others, it only worsened it. But unlike before, when he’d been blindly staggering after an intangible thing, Keith was perfectly solid and real.
Later, when the war ended, Lance was able to bask in their push-pull for what it really was: balance.
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