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Days, months, years, who knew how long Keith had been stranded here. Long enough to start on a shelter, long enough to locate a food source, long enough to have one too many conversations with Kr- with his mother. The hours all bled together only to drip apart like honey, smooth and sap-like. It's the kinda thing Pidge would've gone nuts for, if they were here. Keith, however, just found it boring.
What was the point? What was the point of shelter when it never rained, what was the point of food if they never got hungry, what was the point of talking if Keith had already heard everything Krolia had to say? There wasn't one. There wasn't a point in sword training either, but they kept that up too. Slashing through each day, or hour, or month with their same schedule, routine and military, unbreakable. Except...except for the visitor.
They’d appeared not long after Keith and Krolia did, although Keith assumed they had been here much longer. They knew the ins and outs of the place, slipped through every trap and obstacle like oil. They were a thief, stealing clothes and blankets right off Keith and Krolia’s doorstep. It was frustrating, but mostly it was intriguing. Keith had gone too long without a proper challenge.
He’d almost caught it, once, the burglar literally slipping through Keith’s fingers, leaving a handful of iridescent feathers behind. It was alien, that much was clear, and it was smart. Keith was smarter.
It only took a week (a month? Two days?) for Keith to track the thief, following a trail of blue-black feathers until he reached a fleshy, warbling cave. There was a low hum coming from inside, making Keith’s head hurt. He felt his legs wobble before he steeled his nerves.
"Alright, come on out," Keith pointed his light into the cave, "I know you're in there, just, look, I'm not gonna hurt you,"
No answer. He sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.
"Listen, I've-we've got food and stuff, snacks, things to eat? Do you eat? You probably eat," the humming had ceased, it was like talking to a wall. He dropped his hand back to his side. "Alright, whatever, look, just stop stealing our shit, okay?"
Keith stepped away from the mouth of the cave, flashlight swinging at his hip. His next step was interrupted, caught up by a sudden gust of wind, blowing him onto his back. He coughed, squinting up at the cave.
There were two bright red lights glowing in the darkness, bobbing and growing. Keith's breath caught in his chest. The eyes, they were eyes, Keith knew that much, drew closer, until he could see the form they were attached to. A large, hulking creature, humanoid in stature but entirely alien in everything else. It was massive, eight feet tall, and horrifically muscular. Two giant wings hovered behind it, probably the source of the wind, and the creature had two feather-like appendages sprouting from its head. Mothman. Mothman. There was nothing else it could be.
Keith blacked out.
When he woke up again, he was laying on his makeshift bed, his head pillowed on something strong and sturdy. His eyes fluttered open and then immediately squinted shut. There was a bright light shining above him, occasionally interrupted by his mother’s hands waving above him. He felt her calloused fingers brush his forehead, followed by the scrape of bandages.
“That was stupid,” she said, flicking his temple, “what if he’d been dangerous? Hostile? What if he’d tried to kill you? You didn’t-”
“I didn’t analyze, I know,” he said, batting her hands away. He sat up carefully, blinking at the light. “But if he wanted to hurt us, wouldn’t he have done that by n- wait, he?” Keith looked at Krolia, but her face betrayed nothing.
“Maybe if you hadn’t passed out from fear, he would’ve gotten the opportunity to introduce himself,” a sharp tooth poked out beneath her upper lip, betraying her smile. “I’ll tell him you’re awake, he was very worried about you.
“What?” Keith asked, but Krolia was already gone.
Keith knew when the thief entered, he felt it in his bones. There was no weather on the cosmic whale, but a shiver worked its way up his spine regardless. His pupils thinned, his heart started pounding, everything around him grew hazy and dim. And then, just as quickly as it began, the effect stopped.
“Sorry,” a voice said behind him, “it’s been a while since I’ve had to control it,”
Keith whipped around, chest still spasming from fear. He was staring at a young boy, probably close to his age, who was parked awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Who…” he tried, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. His eyes kept skipping over the boy, as if his brain was having trouble confirming he was there. Suddenly, it clicked. “you’re Mothman?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes, technically,” the boy scratched his neck, “I’m not one of the American ones, but I am a moth, yes.”
“a moth?”
“that’s what we call ourselves, ‘Mothman’ is the name humans gave us, it’s cute,”
“Cute,” Keith deadpanned, trying to wrap his head around all of the information the boy was giving him.
“I’m Misato, I used to live in Japan before…” he trailed off, a shadow covering his eyes. Keith didn’t press, honestly not caring about anything other than the fact that- that Misato was the Mothman.
“Why were you taking our stuff?” Keith asked, suddenly defensive. Misato’s fingers twitched.
“It reminded me of…of someone I used to know. He liked cardigans too,” Misato was blushing and oh god, Keith did not wanna get involved in whatever that was about.
“Whatever man, just…just don’t take any more of our clothes,” he said, pulling one of their last few blankets around his shoulders, “I’m one missed laundry day away from wearing my mom’s pants, and trust me, they would not fit me well.”
Misato laughed. It was softer than Keith would have expected from an apex predator, but it strangely suited him.
“Actually, Krolia invited me to live with you guys, she said it would be more efficient that way,”
Keith’s eyes bugged out of his head.
“She what?”
“You what?”
Krolia sighed.
“he’s a sweet boy, and he’s lonely, I thought it would be in our best interests if he-”
“I thought you thought he was dangerous?”
“I thought he had the potential to be, but I was proven wrong. He was very careful with you, I don’t think he would hurt a fly,”
“But what about-”
“He sleeps outside,”
“Okay but-”
“He promised to return everything he stole,”
“But mom-”
“Keith,” Krolia exhaled, closing her eyes, “trust me, okay? Besides, it will be good for you to have someone your age around-”
“Mom-!” Keith’s voice cracked, making Krolia’s mouth twitch.
“it’ll be okay, a’nah,” she placed a strong hand on Keith’s shoulder, “talk to him, he’s not as quiet as he seems,”
Krolia was right, in a way. Misato was more talkative than Keith had expected, but most of their conversations happened nonverbally. Misato was good at reading people, and adapted to Keith and Krolia’s body language quickly. They spoke in aborted hand gestures and raised eyebrows, something Misato was quick to decode. Once he settled in, Misato began adding his own hums and twitches to the mix, the addition of his wings and antennae making him an open book.
The only downside to Misato’s growing comfort was his, um, warmth problem.
"Get off," Keith batted Misato's antennae from his face, trying his best to ignore his discontented churr.
"Warm," Misato mumbled, shifting imperceptibly closer. Keith inhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Look, if you're going to be staying here, we need to lay down some ground rules," Misato blinked at him, "first off," Keith gestured to where Misato was sprawled across his shoulders, head resting on Keith's own, "personal space. I need it."
Misato churred again, sounding more like a disappointed huff.
"I get cold easily," he said, breath fanning over Keith's ear, making him shudder. Misato perked up, "you're cold too? We should sit closer then, to conserve b-"
"No! No, no we're," Keith suppressed another shiver, Misato had moved, tucking his face into Keith's neck. It was atrociously intimate; Keith could feel his antennae pricking along his collarbone. "We're close enough, too close, even," Misato hummed, the sound sending ripples of vibration through Keith's throat. He swallowed heavily.
"Here," Misato spread his wings, wrapping the two of them in a tent-like shield, "it's warmer like this. Trust me."
Keith sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with this.
Minutes passed, maybe it was the Galra pack animal in him or the human touch starvation, but Keith found himself melting into Misato's embrace. His face hadn’t moved from Keith's neck. His breathing began to even out, and it didn't take long for Keith to realize he'd fallen asleep, arms wrapped almost protectively around Keith's shoulders.
Keith’s chest clenched. Misato’s introduction into his life had brought a lot of changes. He was actually eating proper meals now, for one, but he was also so, so confused. What had started as curiosity fulfilling questions had deepened into late night talks, the two of them laying mere inches away from each other, breathing the same air, telling each other stories in hushed, scratchy whispers. Misato had only existed to him for a short while, but he was already Keith’s best friend. He told Misato things he’d never even told Shiro, how was he supposed to cope with that?
By getting a crush, apparently.
That’s what this was, this heart-skipping, palm-sweating, mind-dizzying feeling, he was almost sure of it. He’d grown up since he’d left Voltron, he’d come to terms with himself and his feelings, with his feelings for Lance, especially. Keith shook his head. There was no reason to linger on the past, especially because he didn’t know how long it’d been for his team since he’d left.
Who knows? Maybe decades had passed, maybe they’d defeated the Galra without Keith’s help, maybe Lance was retired to some beach planet, with a spouse and kids. Maybe he’d forgotten all about Keith. Maybe they all had.
Who cares? Right? Good for them, honestly. He has Misato now, and his mom. That’s all he needs, right? Right.
“you’re thinking too loud,” Misato mumbled, his lips brushing the skin on Keith’s neck. Keith bit his lip.
“Sorry,” he said, throat thick, “wanna move onto the couch? There’s more space,”
Misato nodded, climbing over the backrest so he could curl against Keith’s chest. His heart fluttered. This was definitely enough.
Right?
The next few…whatevers, were filled with action and panic. They discovered the existence of an Altean camp, met Romelle, discovered some frankly terrifying knowledge, and were now scrambling to pack everything before heading back into the wider universe to warn the team. Krolia seemed confident they’d reach them in time, Keith however…
“I don’t know,” he said, leaning into Misato’s space while they folded blankets for the trip. “I mean, we don’t even know where they are, and Lotor doesn’t seem like the type to leave this sort of thing alone without a backup plan. This whole thing just feels…”
“you’re scared,” Misato finished for him, voicing, as always, the exact way Keith felt. Misato always knew how Keith felt. He would have been embarrassed if not for the near certainty that Misato felt the same.
“Yeah, I guess.”
The two folded in silence for a while, Misato’s antennae twitching every so often, before suddenly shooting back. He let out a distressed hum, gripping onto Keith’s jacket only to crumble to the ground.
“Misato? Misato what—Mom! Hurry, something happened to-”
Misato twitched.
“Keith?” Krolia hurried into the room, resting a hand on his arm once she confirmed he was ok, “what’s wrong?”
Keith didn’t hear her, focusing on Misato’s limp form, limp, except…
There, he twitched again, his double eyelids shuddering for a moment, his eyes glowing and then fading behind them. Keith squinted.
Krolia was already in action, lifted Misato and laying him on the cot in the corner. She paused when she laid him down, hovering closer before pulling back. she sent a glance Keith’s way, raising an eyebrow. Good. They were on the same page.
Krolia clapped his shoulder on her way out, leaving Keith and Misato alone.
“Ok,” Keith said, hands on his hips, “you can get up now, I know you’re fine,”
Misato laid prone for a moment before sighing. He sat up on the cot, propping himself up on one arm.
“how’d you know?”
“Your heartbeat didn’t change, and your eyes go dark when you’re unconscious. Also, you’re a pretty bad actor,” Keith sat next to him, “you hit your head, though,”
Misato ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the knot he found beneath it.
“why’d you do that, anyway?”
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Misato seemed to smile.
"I didn't want you to leave," he admitted, wings curling around himself, "I thought...I thought if you were worried, then you'd have no choice but to stay,"
Keith sighed.
"Why go to all that trouble?"
"Would you have stayed if I asked?" Misato's antennae twitched, and Keith knew he was searching for any hints that Keith was lying.
"No, probably not," Keith ran a frustrated hand through his hair, tugging when he reached the ends. Misato's antennae twitched again.
"See, I had to lie, there was no other-"
"But," Keith cut in, "I would've taken you with me,"
Misato blinked, his fucked-up eyelids fluttering as he regained his composure.
"I wouldn't do well on a ship," he said, hands scrunching into fists.
"We have a biome room, that's where we keep Kaltenecker, I'm sure we could recreate West Virginia or...or wherever you're from,"
"Miyagi, I'm from Miyagi," he paused, eyes shuttering again.
Keith exhaled.
"Misato," he started, drawing the creature's attention back to him, "why do you want to stay with me so badly? We're, I mean, we're not exactly close,"
"We aren't?" Misato asked, a familiar flush rising to his cheeks, "I thought we were friends?"
"We are," Keith found himself blushing too, for some odd reason, "but friends don't usually drop everything and make plans to run away together," do they? Keith's only close friend was Shiro, but they were brothers, so that didn't really count. Besides, Shiro's...
"We're more than friends, then?" Misato was blushing harder, feathers fluffing out at the tips. Oh. Oh.
"Oh,"
Keith felt like he was full of bugs, his stomach twisting in knots. He hadn’t felt this nervous since he’d first moved in with Adam and Shiro, hell, it was worse now. Seeing everybody again had felt more and more unobtainable as the months on the cosmic whale carried on. To be faced with the very real consequences of their time away was, honestly, terrifying.
Misato’s antennae twitched.
“Don’t you miss them, your friends?”
Keith shrugged.
“Do you miss yours?”
“Every day,” the air in the ship seemed to compress, sucking inwards towards Misato until Keith was gasping for air. There was a static buzz, the kind of noise that filled your head and wouldn’t leave, an ever present, mind-numbing presence.
“Misato,” Keith grunted, tugging on the collar of his shirt, trying to force his lungs to stop constricting.
“Oh,” Misato’s antennae flicked down and back, and the buzzing stopped. Air flooded back into Keith’s lungs, leaving him shaking. “Sorry, I should probably be more careful with that, huh?”
“Yeah, maybe just a little,” Keith found himself smiling, it was hard to stay mad at Misato.
“Should we warn your team ahead of time? I wouldn’t want to catch them off guard,”
Keith’s jaw tensed.
“I can bring it up in the…in the debrief, I guess,” he felt…possessive, almost, as weird as that was. Misato was his own person, he didn’t need Keith to protect him, but that’s all Keith wanted to do. He assumed it had to do with his Galra side, some kind of latent pack-bonding trait, but that didn’t exactly make him feel better.
Keith had come to accept his alien heritage, even taking pride in the long history before Zarkon’s reign. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel…awkward about some of his more prominent traits. There was the teeth, for one. He’d gotten used to them by now, but he still ran his tongue over them when thinking, the sharp points feeling so new and strange in his mouth even after two years of learning them.
The instincts were a whole other beast. The desire for company, something he’d shut off so completely from his human brain, was now back full force. He felt like a middle-schooler again, moving in with Shiro and Adam, faking nightmares so he could sleep at the foot of their bed, watching the lights pass by their windows and tensing every time their breathing slowed. His skin itched, it longed for touch and attention, an ever-present burn that threatened to eat him alive if he didn’t satiate it.
Misato helped with that.
Misato helped with a lot of things.
“Keith?” Misato’s voice cut through his thoughts, the weight of his wings fluttering onto Keith’s shoulders grounding him.
“Yeah, sorry, what were you…” Keith trailed off, his eyes flickering open. Through the fading yellow haze, he saw Misato, close, close, and closing in. Soft hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs tracing the angles of his face. Keith swallowed.
“Does that help?” Misato asked, his brows wrinkling in concern. Keith felt a wash of buttery, calming warmth flood his senses. His eyelids fluttered, opening again to find Misato mere inches from his face. Mere inches from his lips.
“Uh,” Keith’s tongue felt heavy. He nodded.
“Good,” Misato smiled, “that used to help Mashiro down from his moods,”
“Mashiro?”
“My boyfriend,” the look on Misato’s face melted into one of warm nostalgia, “my ex-boyfriend, I guess, I haven’t seen him in a while…”
Keith nodded, processing. Of course, Misato had an ex, he was handsome, polite, and woefully awkward. Guys were into that kinda thing, if Shiro’s laundry list of exes was anything to go off of.
“It helped Futaba too, although his nightmares were nothing compared to Mashiro’s manic episodes,” he smiled, “I guess being an empath has its perks, huh?” Misato was crouched comfortably in front of Keith, his hands resting in his lap.
“Futaba?” Misato had talked about his team before, Keith knew about Futaba, knew that he and Misato were close. But if Mashiro was Misato’s ex, then…
“My- my ex-boyfriend, Mashiro’s too, although I’m pretty sure they were still dating when I left,”
Oh. Okay. Huh.
“You miss them a lot, don’t you?”
“of course, they were my first…my first everything. I’ll always miss them,” Keith felt his stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy, more like…acceptance. Of course, Misato wanted to get home as much as he did, of course he had people to go back to, boyfriends who missed him, just like Shiro had with Adam. Of course, Keith was just a fleeting thing, a bond of necessity, just like with L-
“Kind of how you were out here,” Misato’s hand slid into Keith’s, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. Misato’s face was beet red, his antennae twitching down.
Oh.
“Uh,” Keith stuttered, his own face flushing, “I don’t- I mean-”
“Keith, I think I should be upfront with you,” his hands clenched around Keith’s, “Keith, I l-”
“Keith!” Romelle’s voice rang from the front of the ship, the whole craft shuddering under the weight of laser-fire, “we need your ace pilot skills, hurry!”
Keith heard Krolia’s offended scoff, but his brain was already shifting into mission mode. He stood up, leaving Misato crouched on the floor.
Cold, metallic, and painfully bright. That's how Keith remembered the castle ship. What warmth he felt for his friends and family was colored, tinted by cool greys and fluorescent blues, a Snapchat filter of diluted nostalgia. He wasn't surprised that nothing had changed, the only difference being that he viewed the ship from a few inches higher, but he was...disappointed. It was only six months to the rest of his team, Rome wasn't built in a day, and a castle ship that hadn't changed in 10,000 years won’t do so in half of one. Still, Keith had expected some new posters, at least.
"Mm," Misato's warbled hum startled him out of his thoughts, tension already leaking from his shoulders. "It's not exactly the back of a cosmic whale, but it'll do," there was humor in his words. Keith smiled.
"I guess, how've you been settling in? Pidge isn't giving you too much...too much, are they?" Keith felt a familiar weight drape over his back, the rustling of wings signaling that Misato was getting comfortable.
"They wanted to take videos of me flying, but that's an expected response," he sighed, leaning his head atop Keith's, his elbows fell onto the couch, framing Keith's body from behind. "They're nothing compared to my old team manager, she made me fill out a survey too, if I remember correctly,"
Keith snorted, leaning into Misato's warmth.
"What kind of questions were on it?"
"Mostly dietary, surprisingly. She wanted to make sure I was getting the proper nutrients," Misato's antennae twitched, "I lied, though. Figured it might be awkward if she knew I fed on emotions,"
Keith laughed, content for the first time since coming back.
"I can see how that might mess up team dynamics, yeah," a voice answered in Keith's place, joined by the hiss of an opening door.
"Lance," Misato said, in lieu of, or maybe as a greeting. Keith involuntarily pulled back from his body heat. Their relationship was...new, and they hadn't talked about it yet, the last thing he needed was someone like Lance making assumptions-
"Sorry to interrupt you two love bugs, get it, love bugs, cos he's- yeah you get it," he wiggled his fingers at the two of them, smiling nefariously at Keith's pinched expression, "Misatoooo," he pointed at Misato, shoving his other hand into his pocket, "Pidge and Hunk wanna talk to you, something about a quiz?"
Misato's intake of breath was audible, making Keith snort.
"Again." He spoke low, moving closer to Keith so he was sure he'd hear it. Keith started fiddling with his leggings. Misato was close. "Should I..." He trailed off.
"Tell the truth, it'll be funny," Keith's voice was pitched, making Lance's face scrunch with a barely repressed urge to tease. Misato nodded, and when he pulled away to leave, Keith felt like all the warmth in his body left with him, replaced by the dull, industrial chill of the castle ship.
Lance waved to Misato as he exited the room, waiting a full five seconds after the door closed before pouncing on Keith, metaphorically and literally.
"Dude!" Lance said, pinning Keith's shoulders against the couch, "in your debrief you didn't say you had a boyfriend? What gives! I thought we bonded-"
"I thought you forgot about that," Keith shoved him off, eyebrows pinching. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. "Misato's not my boyfriend-"
"Yeah right-"
"He's not," Keith huffed, "he's not, not my boyfriend, but we-he-" he groaned, "it's-"
"Complicated?" Lance finished for him, kneeling on the couch beside him. "Yeah, go figure, he's Mothman for quiznak's sake,"
"That's not how you use quiznak-"
"The point is, you should totally tell him how you feel, man. I mean, he's obviously into you, who wouldn't be? Even a bug guy can see that you're smart, and brave, and hands-"
"He already knows, Lance, that's not-" Keith huffed again, choosing to ignore Lance's rambling. One thing at a time. "He's an empath, he knows I like him, he probably knew before I did, that's not the issue here,"
"Then what's the big deal? If you like him and he likes you-"
"Does he? Or am I just the first person he's found out here that's willing to put up with him? He was on that whale for a reason, and not a nice one, I bet." Keith took a breath, but he was already speaking before he exhaled, "And then I come along and I'm warm and, well not nice but I'm not cruel, and I let him take naps on me and fuck with my hair and-"
"Keith, buddy," Lance interrupted, "you weren't the only one though, right?" Lance was curled up now, one leg propped against the back of the sofa, the other folded to his chest. He had rested his chin on his hand, and was eyeing Keith like he was the dumbest person in the room.
"What do you-"
"Your mom was there too, right? Krolia? Yet instead of pouncing on her, like I would've done if I was him cos like, woof, total milf amiright-"
"Lance."
"Sorry! Sorry, anyways, instead of relying on arguably the more responsible of you two, he chose you. There's gotta be a reason for that beyond just base needs being met,"
Keith paused, considering Lance's words.
"I mean, I was the one who found him, so maybe-"
"Look, Keith, buddy, bestie, I'm gonna be honest with you. You're oblivious as shit,"
"I am n-"
"You are! You so are, it's painful sometimes, like right now, when you'd rather think up a dozen dumb reasons for why Misato likes you rather than accepting the glaringly obvious one," Lance talked with his hands a lot, Keith noticed, and right now one was curled in his hair, tugging what must be painfully at the longer strands at the back.
"But...what if he doesn't? What if I fuck this up, Lance I really don't want to fuck this up," his throat felt thick, spasming after he'd finished talking. Fuck. Fuck.
Lance sighed.
"He definitely likes you, Keith," He sounded tired, but Keith was too busy trying to ground himself to care.
"But how do you know, how do I-"
"Haven't you seen how he looks at you? He's obviously in love with you, and I would know 'cause-" Lance cut himself off suddenly, leaving Keith to play catch-up.
"...you think he's in love with me?"
"Yeah, buddy. I really do," Lance's voice was back to normal, if a little overly enthusiastic. He was covering something up, clearly, but Lance's emotional turmoil was just a little too much for Keith to handle right now.
Keith was silent, mulling things over. Lance sighed. Sensing the conversation coming to a close, he scooched closer to Keith, throwing one arm over the back of the couch, and picking up the remote with his other. Keith appreciated the change in tone. Lance had grown a lot over the six months he'd been away. It was like they had to learn each other all over again.
Keith was quiet for few moments, tuning out whatever alien soap Lance had turned on. When he finally spoke, Lance had to turn down the tv to hear him.
“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he said, quietly. Lance’s face pinched, before settling back into the over-enthusiasm Keith was used to.
“Good!” he said, settling into the couch. He was quieter than usual, but Keith ignored it. They were still learning each other, he probably just felt awkward.
It was late when Lance dragged himself to the kitchen again. Driven by hunger and in innate need to make himself suffer, he trudged through the automatic doors, greeted by an abnormal sight that had become all too common. Misato was sitting in front of the fridge, harmonizing with the electrical hum. It would be endearing if it wasn't pathetic.
"Hey man," Lance patted his head as he walked past, aiming for the upper cabinets. Misato fell from his reverie, blinking the dewy red from his eyes.
"Oh," he said in lieu of greeting, "why?"
Lance snorted. Misato could be so blunt sometimes. Reminded Lance of someone else he knew.
"M'hungry, was kind of hoping Hunk made something good,"
"Third cabinet to your right. He found oats today."
"Oh sick," Lance rifled through the cookie jar, "oats? Out here?"
Misato shrugged.
"Even aliens have gluten allergies,"
Lance laughed at that, cookie crumbs flying onto the floor. Misato hummed, pleased at his reaction.
"Y'know, I always wondered why Keith got all crazy over you, but your sense of humor, man, I see it now," Lance said, offering Misato a cookie.
"Yes," Misato accepted, "he always had a soft spot for good jokes, I think," Lance went quiet.
"Listen, we don't have to talk about it-"
"Lance, I don't mind," Misato cut him off, setting the cookie down, "Keith still likes you, if that's something you want to pursue then I-"
"Stop it, just..." Lance sighed, pressing his face into his hands. "Keith...I gave up on him a long time ago. I liked him, sure, maybe he even liked me back a little-"
"A lot-"
"Let me finish," Lance sat down on a barstool, waiting for Misato to join him before continuing. "Point is, none of that matters anymore. He has you, he loves you, that's the most important thing. As long as he's happy..." Lance trailed off, staring at his fists.
"Lance," Misato sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, "you know I can tell when you're lying, right?" Lance stiffened.
"Whatever, I'm fine, I'll...I'll cope, or something, seriously, you don't have to worry about me messing your thing up,"
"I'm not," Misato ran his hand through Lance's bedhead, smiling softly when he leaned into the touch, "Lance, Keith still has feelings for you, and he's not the only one,"
Lance stilled.
"You-what?" He stuttered, looking up at Misato, who blushed.
"Moth aren't monogamous by nature, and you...you're very...expressive. Being around you is addictive, almost. It makes sense that I'd develop...feelings,"
Lance blinked, taking a moment to let Misato's words sink in.
"Does, does Keith know?" He squeaked, his own blush intensifying.
"Not quite, I don’t think he knows about his own feelings yet. I was waiting to tell you first, I didn't want to get his hopes up if you didn't feel the same," Misato paused, biting his lip, "you do feel the same, right?"
"I..." Lance paused, setting his cookie down. He picked at the oats poking from the top. "I don't know,"
Misato's antennae drooped.
"I see-"
"But," Lance cut him off, blinking up at him, "I'd like to find out,"
Misato paused for a second, going so still that Lance could feel his eyes try to skip over him, as if he were a piece of furniture and not a very handsome alien creature thing.
"To--to clarify," Misato stuttered, his hands fisting in the t-shirt Hunk had lent him, "that means you're open to...a relationship, with Keith and--and me?"
His duel eyelids shuttered closed, making the steadily growing red appear dull and washed out. Lance nodded, smiling against the seed of anxiety growing in his chest.
Misato breathed out a sigh, filling the air around them with a kind of tangible relief. Lance felt his shoulders relax. This was going to be okay, better than ok, actually.
Misato smiled back at him, eyes glowing amidst the low kitchen lights. This was going to be great.