Congratulations!!! If theres still a slott left. VLD LancexThace :D (somehow Thace survived or they meet him in another way) or LancexRegris *v* (sorry, I can't help but shipp him with the BOM xD)
Shine a light
First things first, and this is the only rule that truly matters at the end of every day:
Space is weird. Never act like you get it.
Once that particular lesson is learned and fully accepted, the amount of times surprise hits them doesn't really change—but it does help with the whole 'coping' thing.
Which is why Lance doesn't let hysterics take over him when he's separated from the team, locked inside a strange alien—okay, no, everything is alien in space, that doesn't define anything. Locked inside what seems to be a half dilapidated, hopefully abandoned, station. It's… creepy. It definitely is, and it doesn't help that it reminds him of, of, of Ulaz of all people. The remembrance should maybe comfort him but he's not taking his chances. Not when he's alone.
Incommunicated.
Activated bayard in hand, keeping his back to the walls and checking every corner, every possible hiding spot, Lance ventures further into the dark corridors. His steps barely make any noise. His breathing is loud in his ears but he knows that with the helmet on, no one else can hear it.
He's peeking into the next hallway, feeling like he's in a maze, when a shadow moves the opposite direction. Lance's heartbeat spikes.
In the second it takes him to redirect his line of vision and his bayard, he finds himself thrown to the floor. Knife to the throat, gun useless in this close range, a knee pressing down on his gut. He wheezes, tenses, tries to scramble away but the grip is tight. Then—then he takes a good look at the face of his attacker. His breath ends up caught in his throat.
"Thace?," he asks.
The knife doesn't let up.
-
A lot of reassurances and explanations later, Lance finds himself inside the only part of this station that's still functional. It's locked away, partially hidden, and only someone with those blades can access it. Which is the only reassurance he himself can ask for, because this means—this means it must really be Thace, and not, and not—
From where he's sitting on the edge of the small emergency cot, Lance can see all of the scars on the other's body. Places where… fur? hair? (he isn't too sure if it can be defined as either of those) is shorter than the others, scarce, and the skin underneath has long healed, with different kinds of discoloration. Lance thinks it's not too different from the burn scar taking all over his back. From shoulders to the curve of his spine, right where his ass starts. The skin is all one big mark, a patchwork that shows healing that happened at different rates.
He wonders if Thace also hates seeing them in passing reflections. Wonders if he feels shame.
"So," clearing his throat, he looks all over the room again, rubs his fingertips over the handle of his weapon, "how long—"
"I escaped the explosion out of sheer luck," Thace hums, writing down something, or perhaps going over stock or who knows, Lance doesn't understand their written language, "and then, well. I needed somewhere to hide. I knew they'd find out I was still alive, and they'd give chase. This was—this place wasn't my first option."
"Huh."
"My first four hideouts were… compromised. I found this place by accident, I didn't, didn't remember it from the records I'd read."
Lance blinks, does his best to suppress a shudder. "And then I showed up. By accident, as well."
Thace stops, then. He puts down the things he was using to write and turns around to look at the human. One side of his face is heavily marked by scars.
"I don't believe in accidents," he tells Lance, eyes shining under the flickering lights. "Something brought you here. Which is why we must run."
-
At the very least, the lion is bigger than those cramped up quarters. The two small rooms had been scraped clean as fast as possible and then they had quickly relocated to the lion. As far as stealth goes, the animal shaped ship certainly does them no favors, but it is fast, and, above all, still functioning. It only needed a handful of repairs, and with Thace helping him, Lance managed to get those done in record time.
Being out in open space will always remain a novelty. The stars are always different and the sense of voyage never ends. Lance sits on the pilot chair, stretches his back. Half turning to look at Thace by his side, he smiles and points with a hand towards the back.
"There's a cot if you want to rest some more. It's definitely bigger than the one you had, I mean, I bet we both can fit—"
For the first time, Thace's expression changes. It's… mischievous.
"Is that an offer?"
Lance halts all his thoughts. His face heats up in a matter of seconds.
"I—"
"Don't worry," smiling, which makes his eyes shimmer, Thace rests a hand on Lance's shoulder, looking out of the viewport again. "I'm far from tired. Besides, you need someone to help you navigate this sector."
"Ye-yeah," Lance tries not to shudder. "You-you are right."
-
Their comms signal is still a bust and perhaps that is for the better, considering they are being chased. Pidge's stealth mode goes haywire after a wide shot hit something and now it only works for a couple of minutes before it starts titillating. It's not enough time to cross a blockade.
"We can't fight all of them," Lance says, voice shaking but hands steady.
"If we can hide underneath the belly of one of those cruise ships…" Thace leans closer to the viewport and from where he's sitting, Lance gets distracted by the other's reflection. "Under that one," he points, frowning, "the stealth mode should give us enough time to get in position. Even if they start shooting, we'll remain covered by the bulk of the cruise."
Shifting his eyes from the serious face with the shining irises, Lance follows the path pointed. A small smile makes his lips curl.
"Alright. Let's do this!"
-
Passing through is a feat of good luck. When they make it safely to the other side of the blockade, Lance jumps up from the chair and onto Thace's chest, pulling him in for a hug.
"We did it!" he says with happiness and relief clear in his words and no self-consciousness creeping in just yet.
It makes Thace laugh, loud and clear, with no heavy weight bringing the sound down. He wraps an arm around Lance's small waist, and now their bodies are closer.
Ah, there it is. Self-consciousness.
"Yes," Thace doesn't let go and instead he nuzzles Lance's cheek, the part of it not fully covered by the helmet. It makes Lance's heart skip a few beats. "We did it."
-
After the scan, the small planet is deemed safe enough for them to hide, even if for just a couple of days. Traveling nonstop is tiring on both the body and mind. And they are both in dire need of a proper shower.
Luckily here the bodies of water are safe, and so after setting up camp (the lion hidden not too far away) Lance takes off his armor and the black suit underneath, staying only in his underwear. He runs to the shore, gets his feet wet and then he…
Thace smiles as he watches the other dive into the waters, laughing in such a carefree way, like they aren't being chased, like their heads don't have a reward attached to them. It must be nice, to be able to still enjoy living while the threat of death is after them. It must be—
"Thace!" Lance screams his name from where he's standing, water reaching well above his waist. "Come here! It's nice!"
He has scars, that's the thing. So many of them, from the explosion and from before. And the human has seen some of them, has seen the one taking over his face and the reaction was never one of disgust or fear. No. Lance treated him like nothing was wrong. And that, that was the greatest novelty of all.
So he follows suit, shedding his uniform, getting down to the bare minimum needed to keep him covered—blade securely strapped to his thigh—and he goes after the human. He all but jumps into the water, grins when he catches up to the other and then he—
Lance is looking at him with wonder. Not just that, no, there's also… there's also curiosity, and Thace holds his breath and Lance moves closer, as those hands rest on his chest, and Lance is leaning in, straining to reach his face and so Thace is leaning down on instinct, leaning till, till.
So this is a human kiss, Thace thinks as Lance's lips are on his. The touch is soft, delicate, unsure. It's. It's nice. It's really nice.
A squeak stumbles out of Lance's mouth when Thace picks him up, big hands enveloping his waist, and then they are both laughing, dripping water and fears and wrapped in warmth and certainty. This feels good. This feels right.
That night, when they go back to the camp, they share the same cot. It's a perfect fit.
-
When they finally make contact with Kolivan, Thace has already promised his blade to Lance. Even through the holoscreens of the lion's comms, it's painfully obvious that their togetherness is not simply partnership forged in survival. There's more, so much more, and Thace shrugs with a huge smile on his face when Kolivan sighs wearily.
"A rescue mission is on its way," the leader says.
"Cool," Thace winks at him just as the screen shuts off. He doesn't care too much, because he then turns to Lance and they are kissing again, like they can't stop.
So it occurred to me that Matt Holt hasn't had his glasses since Kerberos, and any contacts he was wearing were likely ruined during his time with the Galra. And, being the only human the aliens he's been with all this time have ever seen, I really wanna know what impression he made for humanity when they realized he can't see shit.
