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Lance perked up when he saw the obvious nightclub across the street. “Hey Shiro, how long did you say we'd be on-planet again?”
“A few days, why? The Atlas needs supplies and Allura wants to add this planet to the Coalition. We have a dinner with some of the dignitaries tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow night, eh? That meant tonight was free.
“No reason!” He grabbed Veronica and discreetly jerked his head in the direction of the club.
Her mouth dropped into an ‘o’, then curled into a smile. She nodded.
“Great!” he said in cheerful Spanish. “We can go change now, and come back! I don't want to wait in line too long.”
She agreed, and he was about to drag her back to the ship to get ready when Shiro cleared his throat. From the way his eyes darted between them and the club, he knew exactly what they were planning.
“No.”
Lance dropped all pretenses. “Seriously? We have the whole Atlas crew now and I still can't have a night off like a normal teenager?” Shiro had a guilt complex, and Lance felt bad for playing on it, but not bad enough. He wanted dancing and alcohol and loud music and he was going to get it.
Shiro's body tensed. “Lance, you're too young to be drinking, let alone at a club-”
Veronica cleared her throat and pushed her glasses up in that way that always meant she was about to calmly argue someone into submission. Lance politely refrained from cheering.
“Actually, Commander, both Lance and I have gone clubbing before, with our mother's permission.”
Ooh, ouch, she should've phrased that better, because Shiro was raising the eyebrow of doom.
“Your mother let you both go clubbing?”
Lance nodded. “Legal drinking age back home is sixteen. She didn't mind, in fact, she was the one who told me what to order for my first drink.” He smiled at the memory, unable to stop himself. Her only rule had been that he couldn't go home with anyone, which, yeah, that was more than fair. Not that he'd been planning on it.
Shiro’s eyes were flicking between the two faster than Red. After a solid minute, he slumped with a sigh. “Fine. Just make sure you make it back to the Atlas tonight. And if you need help getting there, or you run into any trouble, promise you’ll comm me, Lance.”
Lance saluted him sarcastically with two fingers before taking off with Veronica’s hand in his. He'd been told about this planet by one of the girls he'd met after a Coalition show. There were at least six different nightclubs in this city alone, so the lines shouldn't get too long, but he wasn't about to risk missing out on a fun night because they waited too long.
They slowed down when they actually made it back to the ship.
Lance narrowed his eyes at his sister, who he knew for a fact had borrowed clothes from Rachel the last time they went out.
“Do you even have anything you can wear?”
She thought about it for a moment. “I have a couple of shirts that'll work, but no skirts. In case you were wondering, yes Rachel helped me pack.”
“Great, that means I might actually be able to find something decent in there.”
She shoved him with a roll of her eyes, but let him follow her into her room anyway. She pulled out the few suitable options she had, which weren't bad, but they weren't great either.
He ended up selecting a top that'd show off her stomach without being too much. Normally he'd be much more sparing in his picks for her, but he'd be there with her, and he was a paladin now. He could keep her even safer than before.
Plus he'd have weapons on him. Not his bayard, because it was too big even in safety mode, but he'd gotten some knives as a gift on a moon they'd visited. He still didn't understand why they'd given him, the sharpshooter, knives, but they were fun to throw, and he had a pretty damn good idea of how to use them.
He pretended to gag when she showed him the array of slacks and jeans she'd brought with her. The only skirt she had really was attached to a formal evening gown Rachel had probably forced her to bring in case they went to any diplomatic dinners.
Like the one tomorrow. Oh man, he was going to have so much more fun with her there with him.
He sighed and waited for her to change her shirt before bringing her way down the corridor to his room.
He’d brought out literally everything in his old closet when he was packing, and a pair of his jean shorts should fit her just fine. Sure enough, he found not one, but two pairs of short-shorts that would work beautifully. She was small, and he used to be small, so the sizing worked.
They were a little too tight for him by now, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing for a nightclub, he thought.
He made her turn around so he could wiggle into them, then frowned at his meager collection of shoes. He had exactly three pairs, and one of them were paladin boots. The third pair were fancy altean shoes for fancy things, but they were a little too nice for a night out on the town.
Not to mention they were a little too uncomfortable for a night out on the town.
Veronica made a considering sound as she picked up his straightener. If there was one good thing about being the primary guinea pigs of Alicía McClain at the height of her beauty phase, it was the speed at which both of them could do their hair. “Hey, can you still walk in heels?”
He gasped. “Wait, are we still the same shoe size?”
“Unless your feet have grown…”
“They haven't!”
She shrugged with a smile. “Guess you can use my extra pair, then. Thank God for Rachel.”
“Amen,” he agreed, before forcing her to sit down so he could do her makeup, something he hadn't had the chance to do in a very long time.
She did her base and eyeshadow while he picked out a fun shirt and some earrings he'd been gifted by a little girl on Shay’s balmera. He slid them in and checked his face in his phone screen.
Well, the absolute terror of a skincare regiment he'd developed was definitely working, because he didn't need anything but eye makeup.
He spun Veronica around and got to work, applying her dark eyeliner with a quick, steady hand. He lined the black with a thin line of bright blue, which he was pretty sure would compliment the icy blue of her top.
Then he left her to do her mascara and eyebrows while he bent to the metal frame of his bunk and started doing his own eyeshadow.
He went with a deep, dark emerald green that was only a shade or two off of his jacket, careful to blend it out a lot so it wasn't too bright. Then he did an eyeliner he'd only ever put on Rachel before, a skinny line across his eyelid that jutted out into a sharp wing and curled back around like the top of a cursive capital ‘N’.
Veronica darted back to her room and came back with a tiny purse. She checked that she had everything she wanted as Lance strapped two of the throwing knives to his forearms, where he could pull them out easily while not being hindered by their location.
He had a feeling he'd be very glad he hadn't placed them on his thighs when he was dancing and didn't end up slicing someone's leg open.
He shot Ronnie two thumbs-up and she shocked him by grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hallway.
She looked back over her shoulder as they passed Pidge's room, beaming like she had been when they snuck onto the roof as kids to watch the stars and plan out their futures as a team- fighter pilot and his signature analyst out to save the world.
Lance stopped in his tracks, unable to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. Veronica turned back to him, her mouth opening to ask him if he was okay as her head tilted just so.
He yanked her into his chest, careful not to smudge her makeup but still holding her tight because this was his baby sister, and he'd brought her here, into this war to finish a fight that never should've been any of theirs.
He'd cried about it to Keith before, even if Keith still didn't know why he'd come to his room back at the Garrison and burst into tears, crying for hours into his and Kosmo’s sides.
He’d fought with everyone he could to keep her off the Atlas; Iverson, Luís, Shiro, even Mamí, but Veronica had argued him down every time. He couldn't keep her out of the war, but he would kill the universe itself to keep her out of battle.
“Que Dios la proteja,” he whispered into her hair, offering up the prayer as she huffed in annoyance.
“Lance, we're going to a club, not a warzone.”
“The whole universe is a warzone,” he murmured. “But I'll keep you safe like I always have as long as you promise not to do anything stupid.”
“I won't, I won't! But you're the one that said you wanted to get in line, so let's go.”
He snorted and carefully dabbed at his eyes to get rid of the tears that had started to build up there as she led the way past Hunk and Shiro’s cabins.
They were just about to go around the corner when Lotor appeared in front of them, his eyes flashing wide for a moment before they returned to their normal passivity.
“Hello, Lance,” he greeted, brushing a strand of soft white hair behind his ear.
“Hey man. What's up?”
“Ah… not much at the moment. I was actually returning to fetch Allura. I was hoping we might find somewhere to ‘check out’ together while on-planet.”
Lance grinned. It was so funny when Mr. British himself tried to use Earth slang like ‘check out’ or ‘hang out’ or even just ‘what’s up?’. He always hesitated for just a moment before pressing forward, his tongue tripping over the words.
“Oh cool! Lemme know if you find any cool date spots,” he said casually, moving to pull Veronica around him.
“Actually, I wouldn't mind testing wherever you're going while looking so lovely,” Lotor said quickly, hand moving to brush back the same strand as before.
Lance laughed and looked at Veronica, who was smirking at him with a look he couldn't quite decipher.
Internally, he sighed. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't read her as well as he used to be able to.
“Us? We're just gonna go to a club. Not exactly your scene.”
Lotor winced, but still valiantly attempted to pretend he’d have fun dancing in the most un-princely place in the entire universe. “Nonsense! I'm sure it would be quite… fun to take our minds off of our current mission for a few hours. I assure you, Allura would love to accompany you and your… sister?”
“Yup, that's me! Veronica McClain.” Veronica reached forward to shake his hand. He was lucky Lance had shown him the human version. It'd probably have been way more awkward if he'd gone for her forearm and she'd gone for his hand, like he'd done with the prince about a week after Allura and the clone let him out of confinement. “So nice to finally meet the alien prince I've heard so much about.”
Lotor’s eyebrow quirked up curiously. “Lance has told you about me?”
Veronica sucked on her tongue. “Uh… no. But Acxa certainly has! And most of her stories aren't bad, so don't worry. But Lance is right, the club doesn't really seem like your scene. Don't worry about it! Maybe we could invite some of the MFE pilots along, or Keith.”
Lance narrowed his eyes. There was a jab connected to Keith's name that she'd just delivered, and it had struck Lotor as intended. His jaw tightened for a millisecond before relaxing with a smile.
“I'm afraid it doesn't much seem like his ‘scene’ either, Lady Veronica.”
Veronica curled a strand of hair around her finger and leaned back into Lance.
He decided to wait and watch how this went.
“You're probably right,” she acknowledged. “Clubs are for more… out-going personalities. Lance always manages to find such interesting people to chat with.”
Lotor's eye twitched. “I have no doubt. He's quite the conversationalist, from what I've seen and heard.
“Definitely.”
“Aw, stop, you guys are gonna make me blush,” Lance cut in, his tone teasing. He needed to end the conversation before Veronica actually pissed Lotor off. “Was nice seeing you, Lotor. You gonna be at the dinner tomorrow?”
Lotor's smile was even warmer than usual, the tips of his fangs poking out from beneath his lips. “Yes. Former or not, I was once the Emperor of the Galra, and as such, have valuable input in such affairs.”
“Totally,” Lance said, shifting his weight. He was starting to get a little bored. Man, he wished Keith really could come with them, but that was definitely something he'd have to wheedle him into doing, and Lance didn't have the time or patience to wheedle properly.
“I'll let you take your leave,” Lotor said with a slight incline of his head, perceptive as ever. “Enjoy your night out.”
“We will!” Lance called behind him as Veronica started to snicker.
“Oh man, he definitely likes you.”
Lance snorted. “Sure he does, hermanita. He's with Allura, and is very much not my type.” Anymore. Now, Keith was his one and only type.
Veronica elbowed him. “Since when is he not your type? He's the definition of your type! If your type had a face and a voice, that would be it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Lance pushed her into the elevator. “I'll have you know that I may be a lot of things, but I'm no homewrecker.”
Veronica glanced up with a smug look on her face. “I think he'd like you to wreck a little more than his house, if you know what I mean. The princess would be okay with it, too, if the way he was talking about her meant anything.”
Lance's face caught on fire as his brain caught her meaning. “Veronica!”
“What? Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but don't be an idiot. They like you.”
“They don't,” Lance insisted. He knew flirting when he saw it, and that was not flirting. Plus, he'd already rejected Allura, not that Veronica knew that. And his very attractive, very possessive boyfriend would've warned Lance away the moment anyone on the Atlas tried to make a move on him. Yep, that's right, he'd warn Lance away right before dragging the poor fool to the training room and beating the shit out of them under the guise of ‘helpful combat tips’.
So yeah, no way Lotor was flirting. Lance felt secure in that.
Veronica sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose like he was Sylvio and she was Tia Anna, tired of his silly antics. “Yes, of course, Lance. Whatever. If you want to ignore it, fine by me. Not my problem.”
“Great! Now tell me exactly how closely you're going to be watching your drink tonight.”
Veronica groaned.
Lance flashed his lovely paladin ID that had been created by Galra Emperor Lotor as a little gift. All of them had them besides Keith, who hadn't been around at the time. It was perfect because it was recognized by both the Galra and fans of the paladins, so it was a win-win all around since most people seemed to fall into one of those categories.
The bouncer let them both through with an eager flourish, though Lance noted the way he seemed to be watching both of their asses as he did so.
Veronica stopped short as she took in the magnitude of crazy spaceness in the room. He could see why. He'd never been in a space-club either, but he was far more used to this kind of thing, and even he was a little taken aback by it all.
The place was gorgeous, obviously backed by someone with money. Damn, drinks were going to be expensive. He was glad he'd brought plenty of GAC with him.
The shimmering blue pillars reflected the multicolored lights flashing over the throngs of aliens moving as one on the dance floor. His eyes dragged over that, determined to get in there and start dancing himself as the smooth beat of the music blasting around them rolled through him.
But first, Ronnie. He locked onto the deep green bartop, taking a dazed Veronica by the hand to lead her to a stool. He could've picked a table, but he wanted to make sure she was fully alert and able to hold her space-alcohol before he tried to do anything else. No use getting her settled in if he'd have to take her back to the ship immediately afterward.
He flagged down the bartender with his signature grin plastered across his lips.
“What’ll you be having?” the Krellian asked, one of his antennae twitching.
Lance thought about it for a minute. He wanted something like a cocktail, and he knew Ronnie tended to like the same. But he wasn't sure how to order that, and there was an intelligent glimmer in the bartender's eyes that he found interesting.
“Surprise us,” he decided, leaning forward a little and looking up through his lashes.
The Krellian turned around and got to work, snatching bottles off the shelves and mixing them together in two small cubed glasses.
Veronica pushed up her glasses and turned to recline against the bartop. “If I'd known you were just going to pass off the decision to somebody else, I would've just ordered me own drink.”
Lance thumbed at the insectoid behind them, still pouring. “Trust me, this guy knows what he's doing. Can see it in his eyes.”
She looked skeptical, but obviously didn't feel like shouting over the music again. The Krellian slid two identical orange drinks over to them and grabbed the money Lance held up as payment.
Veronica sniffed cautiously at hers before making eye contact with him.
“Bottoms up!” he yelled with a laugh, and they tipped back their glasses at the same time.
Flavor exploded on Lance's tongue. His surprise felt electrifying as he tried and failed to categorize the delightful taste. It was somewhere between cantaloupe, soursop, and mamey sapote with a hint of fermentation that suggested some type of wine had been added in.
Veronica was gulping hers down like she'd never tasted anything so good in all her life, grinning around the rim as he sent a questioning eyebrow her way.
He held up two fingers and gestured between the two of them so the Krellian knew to make another for each. That'd probably be all for him, though. Veronica could do whatever she wanted, but he had no intention of getting any further than tipsy that night.
He watched his little sister as she tested the parmelliaon seed curled around the lip of the glass first with her tongue, and then with her teeth.
She slowly sucked it into her mouth, and he could imagine the experience she was having. He'd had them before, afterall, and they were absolutely delicious. The first layer was thin and filmy, but dissolved near instantly under the weak acidity of human saliva. The second had to be cracked like a sunflower seed and the sweetness sucked off of it. Then the rest was like the flesh of a peach, a faint hint of saltiness making it perfect.
She seemed to enjoy it plenty, which meant that Lance enjoyed his just a little more.
Two more glasses slammed down between them. Lance traded them for a couple more GAC.
Veronica didn't throw this one back like she had the last, instead choosing to sip at it while looking out across the room.
She liked the atmosphere, he could tell. She seemed a little buzzed, which meant it was hitting her a bit harder than he'd hoped, but she had never been all too great at holding her liqour anyway. Papa had been the one who could drink anybody under the table.
He took a big gulp of his drink.
Veronica whacked him in the arm to get his attention before pointing indignantly at the dance floor.
He shook his head with a small smile. He knew she wanted him to go have a merry ol’ time, but he was more than content to sit and watch her drink alien cocktails. He didn't need dancing.
An alien guy from a species Lance didn't recognize sat down at the stool on the other side of Veronica. He had a phone (or, what looked pretty close to the Altean version of one) out, and was staring at the screen with a pleased tilt of his lips.
He requested a Werebtolose without looking up.
Lance didn't think he'd try anything with Veronica, so he let her shove him forward, nearly tripping on his way into the small crowd.
The flashing lights help boost his energy to where it needs to be, and he throws his arms up and lets the music envelop him. It's truly like it was back at home, even if he'd only gone out with Aliciá a handful of times. The rolling movements, the couple a foot away from him that's so close they were almost grinding on each other, all of it felt so familiar.
A small hand clasped at his shoulder, and he looked back to see Veronica bouncing in place behind him.
He whooped, just loud enough to be heard over the music, and took her hands in his. They jumped around together, both of their smiles wide enough to give them lines in their cheeks.
Veronica had no idea what the lyrics were, but she shouted along as best as she could, and Lance did the same, twirling her around like they were ballroom dancing, but sped up. Neither one of them was dancing to their full potential, or even well, but they were laughing and wiggling their hips and it was better.
The hours zoomed by.
They didn't separate much, mostly sticking by each other, but Veronica left him a few times, once to go to the bar, and two more times to dance with a girl who had sparkling blue scales trailing down from her purple cheekbones, her eyes lined in kohl and smile lines.
He got her comm identification number for Ronnie when she took a break to use the bathroom.
Veronica really loved those drinks, because she got another one on her way back. She was definitely drunk by that point, her movements loosening as her eyes started to droop.
He let her work off a little bit of it before taking her back to the bar for some water. She pouted at him as she drank it, but she'd be happy she did later.
He returned to the floor, leaving her behind with orders to drink another glass before coming back.
Her light top caught his eye under the strobes just in time for him to see her throw back another one of those drinks. He was pretty sure the bartender had called them gheetaias when he asked.
She nearly tripped when she tried to take a step off the stool, and that was when Lance decided to end the night.
He slapped down a handful of GAC, probably more than he needed, and helped her up. The two of them waved goodbye to Veronica's new friend as he brought them both to the front.
Wow. No wonder the planet was famous for its nightlife, because it was stunning when the sun went down. It looked like something out of a cyberpunk novel, all neon signs and glowing street lights.
Feeling a little awed, he reached down to undo Veronica's heels before swooping her up in a bridal carry. She giggled and snuggled closer.
Struggling a little as she squirmed, he started back toward the ship. Thank God they hadn't gone far.
Navigating into the elevator was a fun challenge, but a bit of shuffling around fixed the problem pretty easily.
Veronica started singing the chorus to Boys by Lizzo as he pressed the button to send them up to the twelfth level. She kicked her feet like a little kid as he walked down the hall.
Lance groaned as he steadied her in his arms, ignoring the hands exploring his face with clumsy fingers.
“I mi-issed you,” Veronica crooned, leaning back so far she almost slipped out of his grip.
“I missed you too, mi sirenita,” he said fondly. She was definitely going to throw up at some point in the night.
“I missed you so long, so long, while you were so far away-ay,” she sung loudly, now making up her own song. “ Having your adventures in spa-ay-ayce!”
“What… what are you two doing?”
Lance nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Keith's voice right behind him.
His lips stretched into a wide grin at the sight of his beautiful boyfriend, wanting to jump him, but not quite drunk enough to give away their secret.
“She's drunk off her ass,” he explained.
Keith's brow furrowed. Fuck, he was so hot. “Where were you all night?”
Lance adjusted Veronica again, who was nearly asleep. Her eyeliner was starting to smudge. “We went to a club.”
“Fuck yeah we did!” Veronica cheered, energy reappearing for a moment. “I'm gonna get me a million of those little fruit thingies with the shell.”
Lance shushed her. “Not too loud, hermanita.”
She whispered loudly. “Shit, sorry.”
Lance smiled. He loved her so much.
“Look,” he started, “let me lay her down in her room, and then we can… talk.” The words were accompanied by a flirty wink and a very not subtle look of appreciation at Keith's everything.
Keith blushed. Then frowned. “We shouldn't do anything while you're drunk.”
Lance rolled his eyes. He was doing a lot of that tonight. “‘M not drunk, Keith. Just a little buzzed. If I was drunk, I'd be doing the salsa down this hallway right now.”
“Lance is… the very top best dancer ever,” Veronica chimed in, head lolling back so she could look at Keith clearly.
“I’m sure he is,” Keith agreed, politely ignoring the way she was twisting a few strands of her short hair around her nose.
Lance shot his boyfriend a sweet smile. “As you can see, I need to take her to her room. She’ll pass out in about four minutes, and then I can meet you in your room?”
“Your room,” Keith insisted.
Lance nodded eagerly and started walking as fast as he could toward the section of the floor where Garrison crew was staying- even if he kept thinking that Veronica’s room should be way, way closer to his, or maybe they should be sharing a room like they did at home, but then he always remembered that he and Keith were dating, and did things in their rooms that Veronica shouldn’t be there for.
Veronica was already knocked out by the time he laid her down, setting her heels on the floor by her bed. He’d have to stop by in the morning to bring her something for the monstrous hangover she was sure to have. He didn’t know where she kept the stuff to take off her makeup, so he dipped the corner of his jacket into the glass of water on her nightstand and wiped off as much as he could.
He still had the small, Altean sort-of washing machine/dryer/microwave combo thingy in his room, so he could just throw it in there. It’d be ready well before he went to sleep if all went according to plan with Keith.
And it would, because Lance was feeling himself and he knew how to sway his hips just right to make Keith stare, and he’d just spent the last who knew how long dancing. He was ready for a fun round of the horizontal tango.
Which is why he was so freaking confused when he kissed Keith, hot and slightly rough like he always did before they started things, and Keith gently pushed him away.
“Not tonight,” he said apologetically, sitting Lance down on the end of the bed to take off his shorts and toss them into the washing machine/dryer/microwave. Keith rummaged around in the drawer of his desk until he found Lance’s homemade makeup wipes and offered it to him.
Lance stared at it. “Keith, what the fuck?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Keith offered. “If you wake up, completely sober, and you still want to, we can do it then. But I’m not gonna be that jerk who takes advantage of their boyfriend when he’s drunk.”
“Not drunk.” Lance pouted. He was hot! He knew he was hot, and he also knew he looked even better than usual with his makeup done. So why hadn’t Keith taken his shorts off in the fun way?
“When he’s tipsy, then,” Keith said dismissively, taking the wipe and gently taking off Lance’s perfect eyeliner.
Lance stuck out his bottom lip with a whine, looking up. “But… don’t you want me?”
Keith closed his eyes for just a moment, groaning at the ceiling as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Lance, please, I can’t tell you how much I want to do everything to you right now, but we can’t.”
“Can we at least cuddle?”
“Not tonight,” he repeated. “If I get on this bed, you're going to jump me.”
“But Ke-eith!”
Keith put a hand to his forehead, looking tired. “Lance, I’m sure at least your sister will come looking for you in the morning, and we can’t get caught sleeping together if we want to keep sneaking around.”
Lance sniffled, but he understood. “A hug for the road?”
Keith scooped him up into his big, strong Galra arms and squeezed him extra hard, swinging him a little for good measure. Then he pecked Lance on the lips and eased him back down.
So sweet. So pretty. So good to him.
Keith pulled the blanket up, making sure he was comfortable.
Then he stood up and made his way to the doorway.
“By the way, Lance, I really liked your makeup,” he said in a gravelly, rough, really fucking hot voice, then winked and left.
How the hell was Lance supposed to sleep after that?!