Chapter Text
One would think life in the Castle of Lions would be anything but boring, with endless possibilities of fun and entertainment to keep someone busy for what seemed like forever. The ancient Altean castle held an almost infinite number of halls and rooms, as well as observation decks to gaze out into space for hours on end, hundreds of nooks and crannies hiding 10,000-year-old objects covered in space dust, many areas fit for training and — oh, so lovely team bonding. But alas, here he was, bored out of his mind.
In the Castle of Lions, Keith slumped onto his bed with a long sigh, groaning as the mattress dipped under his weight. The lights above were dimmed to a comfortable brightness, instead of the blinding level they were usually set to. He moved his fingers to play with the ends of his hair, turning his boredom-filled gaze to the wall across from him. He stared at the polished texture for a few seconds, eyes then flickering to the door as he considered his limited options of entertainment. That was, until several steady and heavy taps sounded from somewhere in the hallway.
Footsteps. He tensed and listened carefully, straining his ears as the noise grew closer. Judging by the intervals between the steps, how loud they were, along with the occasional shuffle of clothes, he was able to quickly identify the person approaching his door.
The footsteps came to a stop at the door and brought along the slight scent of some sort of spice, before he heard three gentle knocks upon the metal.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Hey Keith, dinner’s ready!” Sure enough – it was Hunk’s voice. Seems he’d just come from the kitchen.
He hastily cleared his throat. “I’ll be there in a second,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. Hunk quickly left, taking the whiff of spice with him, and instead of getting up, Keith flopped backwards onto the mattress.
His arms splayed out on either side of him, his knees bent at the edge of the bed and his red, socked-up feet barely reached the floor. His sigh disturbed the messy bangs that lay on his forehead and trailed down to his nose – God, he really needed to cut them sometime soon – and he reached up to brush them back.
He really didn’t feel like socializing with everyone this evening, but he’d be sure to get a mouthful from everyone else if he didn’t show…
That spice smelled pretty good though, he thought, just as his stomach rumbled. Whatever. I’ll just get it over with.
He pushed himself upwards and onto his feet, not bothering to put his boots on before he walked towards the door. He crossed his arms and tightened his jacket around him, the familiar pressure soothing as he exited his sleeping quarters. His footsteps were soft as he walked, cushioned by his red socks and learned instinct. He dragged his fingertips across the wall to his right, glancing uncertainly over his shoulder as he drew further and further away from the comfort of his room.
He turned his head forward and hummed a soft melody to himself in the quiet of the hallways to prevent his ears from ringing. The sound of the team’s overlapping voices slowly grew in volume as he walked further down the hall and closer to one of the dining room’s doors. As usual, Lance’s voice was the most prominent. From what Keith could decipher, he was currently ranting about his hunger, and he caught something about his cropped jacket.
Why? Keith didn’t bother to question the subject of his rants all that much anymore.
The door slid open in front of him before he realized it. He quickly resisted the urge to squint and plug his ears in response to the sudden surge of voices from behind the door, so instead, he crossed his arms and clenched his biceps, then nodded in response to Shiro’s wave of greeting.
“Well, look who showed up,” Lance pointed out rather loudly. “Now we can eat!”
Keith raised an unimpressed eyebrow and rolled his eyes as he made his way to his seat, which had already been pulled out by Shiro. He sat down, the other on his left and himself at the end.
Lance huffed and crossed his arms when he got no verbal response, “What took you so long, anyways? Don’t you remember Hunk refuses to let any of us start eating until everyone is here? That includes you. I’m starving and you kept us waiting —”
Hunk cleared his throat from the table. “What Lance means to say is – we're glad you could join us, Keith!”
Pidge’s eye roll was almost audible and Allura sighed from her spot next to her. “Yes, Keith,” the latter straightened up, clasping her hands together with a kind smile. “We’re happy to have you here.”
Keith blinked with a dumbfounded expression at the confusing exchange, resisting the urge to point out that he came to dinner every night, so the sentence held no real meaning to him. "Um. Thanks."
He looked down to the bowl in front of him, which was filled with an oddly yellow colored chili — at least, that’s what it looked like — the contents steaming and warming his face as he leaned in to smell it.
“Thanks for dinner, Hunk,” he said quietly. The others remained silent, so he assumed they’d already thanked him. And though he didn’t see it, he knew Hunk smiled at the phrase as his energy seemed to brighten.
“My pleasure!” His smile somehow grew when Keith looked up. “Now, I know it’s a little bit of a strange color, but don’t worry. In my humble opinion,” Hunk raised his hands, “it tastes even better than your standard chili.”
“That’s ‘cause you made it, Hunk,” Lance grumbled, mouth half full.
“Aww, Lance!”
“Mhm, mhm. Now be quiet so Shiro can talk,” Pidge waved a hand at them, scooping another spoonful of chili into her mouth.
“Thanks, Pidge,” Shiro chuckled. He cleared his throat and took a breath, straightening his posture to appear more authoritative. “Now, Allura, Coran and I have noticed it’s been a little… Low, lately. So, we thought we’d set up some bonding activities!”
The four teens collectively groaned, some louder than others. (Lance.) Shiro fondly shook his head, holding a patient hand up.
“Come on, team, lighten up. This means you’ll get a couple breaks from trainin—”
Lance's head shot up. "I'm down!"
Shiro deflated slightly, sighing with a small smile. "Well, whatever works," he mumbled, mostly to himself.
“Anyways, I thought maybe we could draw some straws or play rock, paper, scissors to see who gets to decide the first activity. Does that sound good?”
Pidge shrugged, generally indifferent to whatever decision they came to make. Lance and Hunk shared a look and eventually nodded, while Keith remained silent as usual, sharing the same sentiment as Pidge.
“Alright,” Shiro clapped his hands together. “I guess that’s decided, then. We’ll get to it after we eat.”
The group seemed to agree as they all fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, the only sounds that broke through it were an occasional sharp breath or a spoon tapping against glass- Ceramic? Porcelain? Whatever material their dishes were made of.
Now, their dinners typically weren’t like this; dull, quiet, tense and heavy. It was usually Lance that carried the mood. He was always breaking into song, making stupid jokes, (that Keith refused to admit were funny) and just enjoying himself and the people around him.
But now that Lance, of all people, seemed down, it was hard to be happy.
Keith wasn’t sure if the team knew how vital Lance was to their moods and overall morale. Whenever Lance was sad, the team was sad. Whenever he was happy, it was easier to feel the same way. He held them all together in such a way that nobody else could, like the zipper to a loose dress, that one bobby pin, where if it was gone, the hairstyle would fall apart, the glue that mended the cracks that appeared every so often.
He was their zipper, their bobby pin, their glue.
But was Keith the only one that had noticed?
How in any world was that possible...?
He glanced up from his bowl, subtly eyeing Lance’s tight expression as he stirred his chili. He looked tired and a little sad, maybe, his eyes dim and dark, his body practically engulfed by his jacket. Keith couldn’t help but frown at the foreign sight, looking back down at his half-finished meal with a small pit in his stomach.
His gaze turned to the others that sat at the table. Coran was the only one talking, and even then, it was quiet.
Keith didn’t pay any attention to whatever the older one was rambling about, but he figured it was an entertaining story by the look on Allura’s face. (Entertaining by their standards, at least.) She clapped enthusiastically with a bright smile, leaning over the table to address Lance.
“Lance! Didn’t you say Earth had something called rain? What is it like?”
The boy perked up at his name, but his shoulders slumped once more when he heard the question, as if he were hoping to hear something else. He faltered for a second, unsure of where to look.
“Oh— yeah, it does,” he hesitantly answered, now making eye contact with her. Keith raised an eyebrow at the unusual flatness of his voice, and he could tell he was trying to sound a bit livelier by the strained smile and the tightening of his throat.
No one seemed to notice. But if they did, they sure didn’t say anything.
As much as Keith wanted to ask what was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t. They weren’t friends, why would he ask something like that? It wasn’t his place, and the others would be suspicious. He could already hear the teasing and see the looks on their faces, and don’t get him wrong, he cared about Lance, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that.
So, he too, stayed quiet, and finished his food.
“Rain is water that falls from the clouds. Not—not like a waterfall, gentler. Like when you take a shower.”
Allura blinked, her ears twitching slightly. “That sounds much better than what we have—” She paused and cleared her throat out of embarrassment at the slip up. “Had. On Altea.”
“Yeah, Coran told me,” Lance nodded, his eyes squinted in sympathy.
Pidge and Hunk shared a glance. “Wait, what did you have on Altea?” Pidge asked, and the other groaned as he dragged his hands down his face. Shiro looked at him with pity.
“Ugh, please tell me it wasn’t like, fire rocks falling from the sky.”
“Oh, aren’t you smart!” Coran smiled, twiddling one end of his mustache.
Pidge looked both disturbed and intrigued at the answer, tilting her head. “How does that even work?”
Keith tuned out their conversation now, sighing and resting his chin on his fist. Across from him, Lance seemed to do the same as the three spouted out more and more words that neither of them understood.
Their eyes briefly met. Lance instantly ripped his gaze away and stared at his meal, but for once, Keith didn’t follow. His face was flat with concentration as he observed each line and crease and freckle on the other’s, like he was looking for something to blame Lance’s mood on, something astray or wrong or different from his usual look.
Lance’s eyes shot up after a few seconds. “Do I have something on my face, or what? Quit staring at me,” he nearly spat the words out, his lips bent into a displeased frown.
Keith’s shoulders tensed. “No, I was just—” He cut himself off as the rest of the table turned towards them with slightly irritated expressions.
“Here we go again,” Pidge muttered as she rubbed her forehead.
“I didn’t mean to stare,” he started again as he turned his attention back, his face burning under the accusatory gaze across from him. “You just seem—”
“Seem what?” Lance raised a daring eyebrow, crossing his arms and straightening his posture.
Keith hesitated as he bit the inside of his lip. “Never mind,” he conceded, and hardened his gaze, narrowing his eyebrows in frustration.
And that’s why he stayed quiet.
“O—kay, I think this just further confirms what I said earlier,” Shiro interjected, holding a peaceful hand out as he looked between the two of them. He paused for a moment, picking apart their expressions.
“Let’s all head to the kitchen to clean up,” he finally said, pushing his chair out with his bowl in hand. Keith’s eyes followed him until the dining room doors slid shut behind him.
He turned back to the bowl in front of him. His skin prickled as Lance glared uncertainly at him, but he ignored it with perfected technique. He did the same as Shiro and walked towards the door with his head angled downwards, his fingers gripping at the edge of the glass (?) bowl.
His mind flickered back to the image of Lance’s face as he made his way to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why he was so hung up on figuring out what was wrong with him. They weren’t even friends, so why should he care as much as he did? Sure, they were teammates, and they knew how to work together, but that didn’t make them friends.
There was a small inkling of guilt in his stomach as he thought. It was mostly his fault that they weren’t friends, but how in the hell was Keith supposed to talk to someone like Lance?
He was fourteen, scared and confused when Lance first approached him in the Garrison. He had asked to sit next to him on their first day of a certain class — Keith couldn’t remember which one, but he knew the teacher was an ass — and Keith froze on the spot.
He remembered quickly looking him up and down in his orange Garrison uniform. His hair was short, and the ends had a slight curl. His face was littered with little freckles, and his eyes were the same striking blue they had always been, the orange jacket only enhancing their color.
He remembered wanting to say yes, wanting to get to know him, but his stomach twisted at the thought, and the memories it brought forth.
His instinct was to get rid of him as soon as possible, so he said no. Perhaps a bit meaner than he meant, but he didn’t do it to be rude, only to protect himself.
Lance never said a nice word to him after that day.
The kitchen doors slid open as he approached them. Keith raised his head to see Shiro standing over the sink, his human hand rubbing at the skin of his forehead.
“Shiro...” He started quietly, cradling the bowl to his stomach as he waited for acknowledgment.
Shiro turned towards him with a gentle, tired smile, and shook his head sympathetically. “I know, Keith. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Keith couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief. The logical part of him knew that, but it was still nice to hear it from him.
He approached the sink and stood at Shiro’s right, his shoulder brushing the metal arm as he set his bowl down inside. The other slowly placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder, giving it a tiny squeeze.
“We’re all adjusting. Some more than others,” he said, giving him a knowing look.
Keith nodded, setting his hands on the counter. It was easy for him to forget the others had family back on Earth, especially since the only one he had was right next to him all the time.
For now, a small voice whispered to him.
“Yeah,” he murmured.
Shiro hummed, shifting to lean his side on the counter. “Speaking of which, how are you doing? I haven’t had the time to check in with you since I got back from...” He trailed off, glancing away with a solemn look in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he instantly answered, his gaze hardening, both at the reminder of their situation and at the sound of footsteps nearing closer. He subtly angled his eyes to the door, avoiding the other’s pitying expression.
Shiro followed his gaze, and Keith assumed he hadn’t heard anything judging by the confused eyebrow he raised, but he seemed to understand. The silent message drifted between them like clockwork as he looked back to Keith:
I trust you.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Shiro told him and gently patted his shoulder.
The doors slid open once more as Keith nodded. The two of them turned towards the entering crowd of five and moved to the other side of the counter to make room for them to dispose of their dishes.
Keith crossed his arms and looked down at the floor. Lance didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him now, but he still felt the need to shrink away.
There were a few clinks and clanks of glass (???) against metal as the others deposited their bowls in the sink. Hunk turned the faucet on, briefly running the water over them. He then stacked them neatly and set them aside to be properly washed later.
“So, we drawin’ straws or what?” Pidge asked, leaning against the counter.
“Ooh, I have an idea!” Coran eagerly raised his hand. “It’s something children used to do on Altea to decide on things. Princess, come here. Everyone in a circle around me!”
The five paladins shared a confused expression, but it didn’t stop them from doing as Coran said. They stood in a wide circle around him and Allura, spread out so they weren’t suffocating the two. Allura had a gleeful look on her face as she stood in front of Coran and set her hands just below his shoulders.
“Now! The Princess is going to spin me for ten ticks. Then when that time is up, I will point my index finger out. Whomever it lands on when I stop gets to decide our first activity!”
“This can’t end terribly at all,” Hunk murmured, slightly worried. Lance shrugged at him, hands on his hips.
“I’ve seen Coran spin longer than that. He doesn’t get dizzy.”
“What? Is that like, a special Altean thing?”
“Nope! All from my flight training back in the day,” Coran puffed his collar with a proud smile. “You four will be doing the same training quite soon, actually. It gets rather chaotic out here in space, after all.”
That earned a groan from Hunk. Lance patted his shoulder sympathetically.
Shiro let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t take long to get used to.”
“I hope so,” Hunk whined, hanging his head.
“Number Five, here you are,” Coran said as he handed her what looked like a timer. “Countdown for ten ticks please!”
“Sure thing,” she said as her small fingers began tinkering with the buttons. “Alright. Start in 3, 2, 1—”
Once the last number exited her mouth, Coran began rapidly spinning in place on the tips of his boots with Allura’s aid. It was a funny sight, really. His orange hair and blue and white outfit were all a blur as he spun, like something out of a cartoon, while Allura smiled with rare childlike innocence as she helped him accelerate.
The timer blinked a light blue as it counted down from ten to one, a small beeping noise emitting with each count. It finally reached zero and let out a long, steady beep to signify the end of the countdown. At the noise, Allura stepped back and exited the circle.
Coran shot his arm out with his index finger pointed. He eventually came to a stop and steadied himself, eyes closed and hair disheveled from spinning so quickly. His finger ended up pointing to Pidge, who pushed up her glasses in slight disbelief.
“Rigged, I say! Rigged!” Lance declared, crossing his arms.
Keith rolled his eyes and Pidge sighed.
“Cool your balls, you’ll get your turn eventually,” she said.
Lance only huffed in response.
“So, what’s your choice?” Shiro asked, eyebrows furrowed at the added choice of language.
Pidge thought for a moment, rubbing her chin. Lance seemed to grow more uneasy with each second that passed.
“Please tell me you’re not gonna make us be your guinea pigs for a day, you mad scientist,” he groaned, a displeased look on his face. Keith’s eyebrows raised.
The other practically cackled and shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be very relaxing for all of us. Besides, why waste this rare opportunity? I could do that any day.”
Lance’s relieved expression quickly disappeared.
“What is a... Guinea pig...?” Allura tilted her head.
Hunk beamed, folding his hands together under his chin. “Only one of the cutest creatures to ever exist! We’ll have to show you what they look like later.”
The Princess still seemed confused, but she didn’t question it any further.
“How about we do an Earth classic? Truth or Dare?” Pidge suggested.
Lance lit up with excitement, Hunk eyed him worryingly, Shiro smiled, and Keith raised an eyebrow.
“Truth or Dare?” he questioned, craning his head forward. “That’s your idea of fun and relaxation?”
Pidge shrugged. “It’s not like we have anything else to do. If it were possible, I’d be beating all your asses in Mario Kart right now.”
“Language. And I’d like to see you try,” Shiro grinned. “The best of the best stands right before you,” he said, resting his elbow on Keith’s shoulder.
Keith indulged himself in a small smirk as he looked at the other. “So, you admit it, then? I’m better than you?”
“I never said that. I was talking about me, since I am the truthful player,” Shiro lifted his chin, his mouth bent into a scolding frown.
“Seriously? That was years ago. I didn’t cheat. Get over yourself,” Keith crossed his arms with a defiant look.
The other hummed uncertainly, narrowing his eyes in playful suspicion. “Sure,” was all he said.
“So, this ‘Truth or Dare’ game... What is the objective?” Allura stepped in, Coran nodding alongside her.
“Basically, everyone sits in a circle and picks one person to go first. That person asks the person to their left ‘truth or dare?’ If they answer truth,” Lance explained, eagerly gesturing with his hands, “the questioner asks them a question and they have to answer. If they choose dare, they’re dared to do something, usually something crazy and impulsive, but it can be anything.”
“Sounds fun!” Allura smiled. “I’m eager to learn more of your Earth games. They’re quite different compared to what we had on Altea.”
“Yeah! I can teach you and Coran all of the ones I know,” Lance offered. “And you guys can teach us your Altean games!”
“Careful boy, I might hold you all to that,” Coran grinned, the kind of grin that instantly makes one regret their decisions and rethink their life choices the second they catch sight of it.
“What is that supposed to mean,” Hunk demanded. Understandably.
Coran only giggled in response, cheekily covering his mouth. Allura shook her head at his antics with a fond smile.
“We can play in the common room?” She suggested, looking at each of them for confirmation.
“Sounds good. I need a few minutes to freshen up first, so we’ll meet in ten?” Shiro said.
“I’m assuming you mean ten doboshes,” Coran mumbled under his breath. “We will meet then!”
“Alright,” Shiro nodded with a small laugh. He squeezed Keith’s shoulder one last time before exiting the kitchen. Pidge and Lance followed him, while Hunk stayed in the kitchen — to wash the dishes, Keith guessed.
He crossed his arms and tightened them against his torso as he walked through the sliding doors. They shut closed with a quiet click behind him as he trailed after the others with soft footsteps, staying a few feet back so it didn’t feel like he was intruding.
He didn’t pay any attention to their conversation and fidgeted with the fabric of his jacket sleeve as he grew lost in his thoughts. Truthfully, he couldn’t help but worry about what could happen later tonight — Truth or Dare had quite the reputation. He knew Shiro would step in if the others got too pushy, but that would only leave them even more suspicious than they already are.
It wasn’t a secret that Keith had a lot to hide. Everyone here knew that, and he himself knew they all wanted to hear about it.
Was it bad that the thought of them knowing sickened him?
They were his teammates. They should be able to trust one another, and yet Keith found it impossible. What if they began to push more? What if they stopped trusting him because he wouldn’t tell them anything?
He huffed and squeezed his arm. It shouldn’t matter if they ended up with more questions after tonight. But thinking about it bothered him.
He came to a stop at his door as the others carried on to their respective quarters and placed his hand on the touchpad. It lit up a gentle blue under his touch just before the door slid open with a quiet, mechanical sound. It sounded again after he walked inside.
He took a moment to stretch and release the tension from his body, letting out a long sigh. His nerves were still a bit haywire from the situation with Lance, and he only grew more anxious as their agreed game time approached.
It’s just a game, he reminded himself, taking a breath. It’ll be fine.