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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 7 years

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The New Romantics Ch. 9

(If you have songs I can add play to a playlist for this fic please let me know!!)

Formerly known as Frenemies

Part 1 Here

Part 8 Here

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click the OP if the read more link doesn’t show.

It was understatement to say that the entire team was split. Even Hunk and Pidge weren’t talking to each other. She’d kicked him out of the lab several times and Hunk spent most of his time experimenting in the kitchen. Keith spent his time in his room reading, drawing, and listening to music. He managed to make a few playlists but he tended to listen to his angry one more often. Shiro and Allura tried for more meetings but it got nowhere since none of the paladins would speak to each other and if they did, it ended up being Pidge and Keith pitted against Hunk and Lance.

Then one day, while he was drawing in the lounge, Coran came and sat beside him. He glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

“What’s that?” he asked Keith.

Keith tilted his sketchbook. “I’m drawing Red as if she were a real lion.”

“May I see the other works?”

Keith handed his sketchbook over without thinking. Coran flipped to the first page. The galactic war. Keith remembered drawing that one with Lance leaning on his shoulder. Coran turned the page to the icy blue expanse of pastels. Keith had been thinking of Lance’s eyes.

Coran continued to flip through the pages and mused over each one. “You have a lot of emotions, don’t you?” Keith frowned and looked at him questioningly. “You can’t make art like this without having some deep emotional sense of understanding. And you’ve had plenty.”

“I guess.” Coran continued to turn the pages. “Are you going to ask me what Allura and Shiro have been?”

He shook his head and mused over the latest work in progress. “No. I don’t think you’d tell me. Although I think you need to ask yourself. The problem seems to be everyone else getting involved. And this isn’t about everyone else, is it?” Keith shook his head. “So figure it out for you. Not for the others, not for Lance. For you. If you can do that, things can be easier. Lance is someone who needs to talk to others to understand himself. You need to be alone. I will say this; you should never purposefully hurt someone you care about in whatever way you might. I at least ask you to apologize for the violence.”

Keith couldn’t refute that. He knew he was the one who threw the first punch.

“This is incredible work,” he said, returning the sketchbook. “Perhaps if you can be as honest with yourself as you are with your sketchbook, things can be a little easier.” He smiled and stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to soak in a nice Altean bath.”

Coran left, somehow affecting Keith more than Shiro, Allura, or Pidge could’ve.

Although, he had been honest with himself. He recognized these feelings, and recognized that they were fickle and simply a result of stupid choices. If that were true, then why hadn’t they gone away? It’d been another week since their little meeting that resulted in even more bickering. His bruises were lighter, his cuts were scarring, and still, Keith didn’t hate Lance. He still felt his heart clench around him. He still felt his chest constrict when he was near. He still missed him.

He needed someone who could see through the bullshit he couldn’t see himself. He needed Pidge.

He went to the control room where she tended to spend her time if she wasn’t in the hangar or the lab. When he got to the entrance, he heard Pidge talking in quick, angry bursts.

“-need your help, I can do it alone. Just get out. Why would you want to work with a kid anyway? Go do something else and leave me alone.”

“Pidge, you know I didn’t mean that.”

“Then why did you say it?” Keith really needed to stop eavesdropping. But he also wanted to know where this was going.

“I don’t know! I was just…. Look, I’ve known Lance for a long time. And I keep seeing him get hurt over these girls that don’t pay attention to him or just mess with him. Now, Keith is the one making him cry? It made me… mad that you were defending him when it’s his fault Lance is hurting so much. So I just wanted to say something to discredit you. And I know it was stupid, but I was thinking about Lance at the time. I didn’t think it bothered you so much.”

Keith shrunk into himself. This was why he wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop. Was Lance really hurting? Was he hurting like Keith was?

“You can be so stupid sometimes, Hunk,” Pidge muttered. “I know that I’m the youngest. And I know you all see me as the little sister-”

“No, wait, Pidge. That’s not true. You’re the smartest of us all, and you’re a paladin just like us. You’re… you’re one of my best friends. And I hate having you angry with me. Will you please forgive me? I miss spending time with you.”

Keith stepped away from the control room. It seemed things had worked out for Pidge. He turned away and started down a hallway, suddenly feeling lonelier. He noticed footsteps passing him and tensed. He could see Lance’s shoes. This wasn’t a first. They’d walked past each other without a word a few times already. And each time, Keith hoped he wouldn’t talk to him. And each time, his heart broke a little when he didn’t. It was very confusing.

Just like every other time, Lance walked past him without a word. Keith sped up his pace to get away quicker. And then he stopped. He turned around and called out before he could chicken out.

“Lance.”

The taller figure at the end of the hallway came to an abrupt stop. Then it pitched forward before stopping again. He hadn’t meant to stop. He wanted to ignore Keith, but he’d been caught off guard. Keith took a few tentative steps forward while Lance remained with his back to him. “I know you’re angry with me. And you have every right to be. I said stupid and terrible things to you. I… hit you. And I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know I regret it. And I wish I could explain why I did all of that-”

“Then explain.” Keith’s mouth snapped shut as Lance turned. “Why did you hit me? What did I do?”

Keith’s brows furrowed as the answer danced on his tongue. Instead, he shook his head and took a breath. “I’m so sorry.” He turned back around and went to the training room, hoping to clear his head a bit.

He started without warming up, finding the beginning levels enough of a warmup to bother. He tried to figure himself out. He tried to pinpoint the moment everything had decided to go to shit. But he had no answers.

As he continued to swing, hit, and kick, his mind wandered. What exactly was he even trying to answer? He’d never stopped to really ask himself anything.

He began to make a mental list as the training continued.

When did he start having legitimate (or illusionary- it was still unclear, but that would be another question) feelings for Lance? Before or after they’d…? Why was he always going in circles with Lance, wanting to be around him and wanting to cut himself off completely? How, why was Lance hurting if it was supposed to be a fling? A simple frenemies with benefits deal? Did Lance feel the things (also, what were the things?) Keith felt? And if he did, was that good or bad for Keith? Was he angry that Lance had kissed Rosa? That question sparked an emotion that made him attack the next drone with a bit too much force, so he crossed it off his list. Yes, it made him mad, because he was feeling things, whatever they were. Next question…. What was he trying to accomplish in hurting Lance? Hating him? For what? Why didn’t he hate him if his face had the proof of angry punches from the same hands that had once caressed his face, his sides, the most sensitive parts of him?

And most importantly, what should he do now?

---

It took a long time before Keith managed to reach a conclusion, even if he couldn’t answer all of his own questions. He let his personal inhibitions down and ended up getting distracted, the wind knocked out of him by a hit he failed to block, and then a tired mess on the floor, yanking at his hair.

He went in search of Allura or Coran before finding the latter and asking him to get him in touch with Kolivan in the Blade of Marmora.

After a long, heated discussion with the leader, Keith asked Allura to call a meeting in the lounge. He stood tensely in a corner as the paladins came in. Pidge and Hunk seemed to be back to normal, and with Lance, it almost looked like the first time they’d met, when the trio were closest to each other, wary of Keith and idolizing Shiro.

“What’s up, Allura?” Lance asked, pointedly avoiding Keith’s gaze. That was fine.

“Actually,” she began, giving Keith a hesitant glance. “Keith asked for this meeting.” Pidge was the first to look at him suspiciously, and Keith almost saw the turning of gears in her head as she tried to figure out what he was doing. “Keith, go on.”

Keith cleared his throat and decided between going for the big punch or leading up to it.

“So, we’re all well aware of the problems we’ve been having as a team. I’ve been living up to my rep of being impulsive and reckless and short-tempered.” He kept his eyes narrowed, refusing to look at the ground. He had no doubts. He would not be talked out of this. And he was not afraid. “I’ve created a rift among us as paladins due to both my lack of social and communication skills. Not only between me and Lance, but even between Pidge and Lance and Hunk.”

“Is this an apology speech?” Shiro questioned.

He met his eyes and managed a small quirk of his lip. “Only partially. I am sorry. But I’ve been thinking and I’ve reached the conclusion that I need to… get to know myself better. I need to figure out how to understand my thoughts and emotions and the relationship I have with all of you. I keep feeling half distracted by wanting to know my past and being bitter about it, and… I need to figure it out. I also need distance so I can stop coming between your roles in Voltron.”

“Your?” Pidge echoed, but Keith ignored her.

“I… I talked to Kolivan from the Blade. And he’s agreed to train me and help me piece together what I can of my past.” He straightened his stance and clenched his jaw. “So I’m… leaving Voltron.”

“What?” came a chorus of six voices and even mousy squeaks. But Lance was the one who had gotten to his feet and even taken a step toward him. “What are you talking about?” Pidge demanded. “You can’t just- You’re the one that said I couldn’t leave because this was bigger than me, than all of us.”

“And we came to the conclusion that we can’t force each other to be here. That a team doesn’t work like that, and I’ve already fucked this team up enough.”

“Keith, this was a two person problem,” Lance said, eyes blown wide. “It’s not your fault alone. I messed up too, that doesn’t mean you have to leave.”

“When did you talk to Kolivan?” Shiro demanded.

Keith sighed and rubbed his temple. “Keith, if you leave, then we really won’t ever get a chance to form Voltron again,” Allura said, touching his arm softly.

“Lance has piloted Red before. He can do it again.”

“That was an emergency,” Lance hissed. “And even if I did, I’m not leaving Blue.”

“Then find someone else! I’m not changing my mind. I need to do this. For me.”

“You’re being selfish,” Hunk said, crossing his arms. “You’re just thinking of yourself. You’re part of this team, and… and yeah people fight and they argue, but they work through it! You can’t just run off over a breakup.”

“It wasn’t a breakup!” Keith groaned. “Look, I’m going. I have to. I… I need to be honest with myself. And not try to just live up to what you guys expect from me. It’s more than this, but I’d rather keep it to myself.”

“When do you plan to leave?” It was the first time Coran spoke, and when Keith looked at him he felt guilty. Coran’s eyes were tired and sad, seeming to have aged those 10,000 years within the last ten minutes. He hadn’t told Coran what he was asking Kolivan. And it’s because of what Coran told him that he decided this in the first place.

He bit his lip and took a breath. “Tomorrow. He said he would come in a pod to get me.”

“Well then,” he nodded. “How about a final team dinner to see you off?”

Keith’s stomach clenched and he shook his head. “Thanks, Coran. I really should get packing though.” He let out a tired breath and turned away.

He made a few makeshift packs from the cloth they’d used to dress as space pirates when they went to the mall for the first time. When he packed what little clothes he had, he began packing the books and art supplies he was gifted.

Suddenly, his door slid open. He turned in confusion, his breaths coming to a halt when he saw Lance looking angry and tired at the same time. “I didn’t let you in-”

“What the hell is your problem?” Keith frowned and backed up against the wall. “What, you can’t even look at me so you just decide to run away?”

“You’re the one who isn’t talking to me, Lance.”

“Because I am tired of being the first to apologize! I don’t even know what to apologize for this time, because you don’t talk to me!” Keith sighed and let his head fall back. “But I didn’t want you to just run off. I don’t get it, Keith.” He stepped closer, his blue eyes searching his face almost frantically. “Why do you have to leave? We can fix this, we can….” Keith raised an eyebrow and held his gaze.

“We can what, Lance? Pretend nothing happened? Pretend we haven’t done what we’ve done?”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Keith. Then, “Why did you hit me?”

Keith winced and stared at the floor. “That’s… complicated.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m scared to say it out loud, I don’t know how to say it. It makes sense in my head but my words get all jumbled and….” He took a breath and met his eyes. “Coran said I need to be honest with myself before I’m honest with anyone else. And I can’t figure it all out in my head.”

He thought Lance would get angry and leave. He thought he’d tell him off for being selfish or for not knowing how to think. Instead, Lance bit his lip and seemed to think for a moment. Then he said, “Okay. Then just tell me what’s in your head, even if it’s jumbled. Please. Just… at least tell me… do you really think I only wanted to be your friend because of the stuff we did?” He met Lance’s eyes and gulped. He shrugged and lowered his gaze. “Because I promise that’s not true. It’s just… I got to know you a little more. When we’d train or hang out together and goof off. When we’d just talk into the night until one of us fell asleep. It was because of those things that I wanted- that I want to be your friend. Not the sex.” Keith didn’t respond. “Why did you hit me? I’ve made you angry before, but never enough for you to hit me.”

Keith’s lips parted and he let out a breath. “I wanted you to hit me back,” he croaked. “So I could hate you.”

“H-hate?”

Keith nodded. “But it didn’t work.”

“Why do you want to hate me?”

“So I don’t feel what I feel now!” He pushed Lance away, freeing himself from what was quickly becoming a trap between the wall and Lance. “I don’t know what to do with these feelings, and I don’t want to feel them. I never would’ve if…. I don’t even know when they started and I just….”

It was quiet. And then he heard movement and suddenly Lance’s warm hands were on his wrists, turning him back. “What feelings?” Keith stared at him, not wanting to answer because he wasn’t completely certain but… at the same time he was. “Keith.” His hands came to cup his face and Keith felt his heart hammer against his chest, craving the touch he’d missed so much without realizing it. “Do you… feel something for me?”

Keith felt the answer lodge in his throat. Saying it meant being vulnerable. It meant the feelings would be real even if they weren’t supposed to be. It meant-

It meant Lance was kissing him, letting his answer bubble up in a sigh too quiet to be heard. Lance’s hands came around his neck, tugging him closer. Keith slipped his hands into his hair, into those curls that had so often helped him fall asleep. He felt Lance step forward until he managed to press Keith against the wall, the tips of his fingers digging lightly into his skin, his thumbs at his jawline. It was like he was desperate to hold onto Keith, but wanted to be gentle because he didn’t want to hurt him in the slightest. It made the smallest whimper slip through Keith’s lips.

He leaned his forehead against Keith’s, close enough so they shared breaths and their lips touched if only barely. “I do too,” Lance said softly. Keith could hardly hear him over the rush in his head, the pounding of his heart. “I see you, and my heart picks up. And I get so happy when you smile at me. I’m fucking ecstatic when you laugh. I feel like I can take on the world each time you kiss me.”

“Lance-”

“Being away from you made me feel empty, and-”

“Lance, I can’t stay.” Lance pulled away and Keith forced himself to stay still instead of reaching for him. “I’m so confused with everything right now. I want to have time to figure myself out. And I can learn about my past and this part of me that I’m so terrified of by going with the Blade. I don’t even know if these feelings are real.”

“What do you mean real? Don’t… don’t you feel these things for me? Don’t you-”

Keith cupped his face, seeing his pain reflected in ocean blue eyes. “Lance, right now, all I know is… that it physically hurts to be around you. I’ve never felt these things before, and I don’t know if I can trust them because- Lance, please let me finish.” Lance had pulled away and sat on Keith’s bed. Keith knelt in front of him, taking his hands in his own.

Lance’s hands were dark, smooth, and slender. Long thin fingers, with smooth palms and long nailbeds. Keith’s were pale, calloused and scarred, wide instead of slender, his own fingers long but thicker with short nails. Seeing them intertwined was like trying to fathom themselves together. Weird. Awkward. Mismatched.

And yet they had been together, in some sense of the word. Their bodies had been intertwined, connected. They’d been so close there was no understanding of where one body ended and the other began.

“I’m just afraid that these feelings are in my head. That I concocted them because you’re the only one who’s seen me the way you have. I’m afraid that even if it’s not the case for me, it is for you. I mean you never even liked boys until now.” Keith let his head fall against their hands. “When I saw you with Rosa, I saw the reality. The life you’d been living before isolation came along. Even if these things are real, how can you know it’s real for you too?”

“Because I can feel it,” Lance insisted, nudging Keith’s chin so he’d look up at him. “Because it’s not in my head that I’m happy with you. It’s not in my head that I get nervous and jittery around you.” He leaned down slightly, looking Keith in the eyes. “With Rosa…. I can explain all of it. My family is really religious, and it sort of slapped me in the face when we went back. Everyone was expecting there to be a girl, and if I even tried saying there was a boy…. It’s hard enough being into the same sex. Add being Hispanic and religious to it?” Lance freed one hand and tugged on a strand of Keith’s hair. “My mom caught on, though. And she told me to be careful. Not to let you slip if you made me happy. She also said you were a huge step up from Rosa.” That managed to get a small chuckle out of Keith. “I knew you were upset over her.”

“You kissed her back.”

“My family was watching.” Keith hummed and laid his head on his lap. “Why does this feel like a breakup, Keith?”

Ignoring the question, Keith took a breath and gripped his hands tighter. “This is something I’ve actually thought through. I’m not being impulsive. I want to go. I want to train and I want to get in touch with the Galra part of me. And…. I want to see what happens to these feelings if I go away. I want to figure out if they are illusions. We both should.”

“Keith…”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘in love with the idea of love?’”

“Yeah, in that Twilight movie,” he scoffed. “Like the third one.”

Keith raised an eyebrow and smiled in exasperation. “I read it in a book. I just want to be sure I’m not being overwhelmed by the idea of something. That the things I feel are real and won’t just go away because we’re further from each other.”

Lance sighed and looked at Keith in defeat. “Nothing I say will change your mind will it?” Keith shook his head. “Stupid, stubborn Mullet.” Keith breathed a laugh through his nose and shook his head. “I missed that smile.” Keith bit his lip and couldn’t help the blush that rushed to his cheeks. “Hey,” he said with a lighter tone. “Isn’t this the position that started it all?”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows before realizing he was completely right. “Funny that it’s also how it’s ending.”

The joking smile faded. “Yeah. Funny.” Keith pulled himself up and sat beside him, resting his head on his shoulders. “I’ll take care of Red.”

Keith nodded and murmured a thanks into his shoulder. He took a tired breath and shut his eyes. “This is selfish of me, but…. Do you think you could stay with me one more night?”

Lance’s hand came up to caress his cheek. “For you, anything.”

A few hours later, Keith finished packing most of his books and Lance had taken the liberty of messing with his iPod. When Keith tried to see what he’d done, Lance smacked his hand and told him he wasn’t allowed to look until he was no longer on the castle ship.

Then they laid facing each other on the bed, a small distance between them. Lance’s thumb ran along Keith’s lip and Keith tried to memorize the angles of his face, the exact shade of blue in his eyes, the curve and swell of his lips. He was itching to draw it, but his stuff was packed up. Lance’s hand caressed up and down his arms slowly. It made Keith’s breaths hitch as he laid with him.

It wasn’t sexual. He didn’t feel dramatically turned on like he had before. It was intimate and sweet, and it made Keith miss him even though he was still touching him. Keith scooted closer and nuzzled into the crook of his arm and against his chest where he could hear his heartbeat. “Can you sing to me?”

Lance dipped down, pressing his lips into the unruly hair at his forehead and began to sing softly, his voice broken and off-key as he sang in Spanish. Despite the imperfection, Keith found it soothing and easily one of his favorite voices. He slipped his hand up to wrap around his shoulder, his fingers twirling the curls at the nape of his neck around and around until he fell asleep.

***

The next day, Pidge walked out of her room at the same time Keith and Lance left his. She froze when she saw them, but when Lance opened his mouth, she lifted a hand to shut him up. “I really don’t wanna know.”

The three of them walked to the table where Hunk had laid out a nice breakfast. He gripped Keith’s shoulder and gave him a smile. “I’m sorry if I acted like a jerk before. It’s just….” Keith gave him a smile and nodded, saving him from having to explain himself.

Kolivan showed up shortly after breakfast. He waited patiently while Keith said his goodbyes again, surrounded by the paladins and Alteans and mice after Hunk called for a group hug.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Pidge sniffed, her arms wrapping tighter around his waist.

“Yeah. Who am I gonna make fun of now?” Lance added. He was smiling, had long accepted Keith’s choice. But Keith saw it in his eyes- the pain and longing and sacrifice this really was for Lance.

Keith had never been one for so much physical contact. And when he’d craved it, it’d been sexual, or limited to Lance. Now? He understood what family was supposed to be.

“I’ll miss you guys too. Thank you for understanding.” He pulled away and managed a smile before turning away to follow Kolivan. As he walked down the hall, leaving the others in the control room, he heard footsteps running after them.

“Keith, wait!” He stopped as his brain registered Lance’s voice. He turned and saw him come to a sudden stop in front of him. He managed a pained smile and pulled him into a kiss, making Keith’s eyebrows go up while his eyes closed. He pulled away and pecked his lips lightly. “I wanted one last kiss.”

Keith let out a nervous chuckle and found his fingers curling around the fabric of Lance’s jacket. “Better make it memorable, then.” He pulled Lance into a deeper kiss, letting every confusing emotion fuel it until he couldn’t breathe. Because even if these feelings weren’t real, Lance was right; he still felt them. And kissing Lance made things like that not matter for a little bit.

He pulled away and squeezed his hand before leaving to board the pod Kolivan had brought.

As the pod shot off into space, Keith looked out the window and watched the castle ship get smaller and smaller until he couldn’t discern it from the stars. Then he remembered his iPod. He tugged it out from the pocket of his jacket and scrolled through the songs trying to figure out what Lance had done. He went back to the albums and then back to the playlists when he saw it.

And so the Moon fell for the Sun

He clicked it and found it filled with romantic songs. It varied from heartbroken to longing to sweet and Keith couldn’t help but smile as he scrolled through the list. He put the earphones in and began playing the songs, his mind filled with blue eyes and wide smiles and soft kisses.

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#klance #laith #vld #voltron #au #fic

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highwindhq · 7 years

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HighSpecs Week: A Truth and a Lie

Prompt: Moving In / Drinking Together

AO3 version here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12164622/chapters/27608661

A Truth and a Lie

Aranea Highwind swept through the bar in Lestallum like a woman on a mission. She had a terrible week in field, slaughtering countless daemons that had sprung up around a small settlement in the Duscae region. The people there refused to move, insisting instead on standing their ground. Cor had asked that Aranea and her team at least help them with a bit of daemon clean-up until they got their wits about them. Well, Aranea hated that sort of stubbornness and she needed a drink. The lineup at the bar was too long, but she eyed a better alternative in the corner booth anyway.

She strode over to Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio, and picked up their half-full pitcher of beer without a word, chugging most of it.

“Sorry boys, it’s been a week,” she said.

“Is that the one and only Aranea Highwind, come to pilfer our hard-earned beverage?” Ignis said, giving a smile in her direction.

Her stomach immediately did a little flip, but she ignored it.

“I promise you that you did not earn this more than me after the week I’ve had.” “Wanna sit?” Prompto said, gesturing to the empty spot next to Ignis.

“Sure, thanks. Oh, and next round’s on me.” Ignis shifted over on the bench and Aranea sat down. She was glad that she had the foresight to have the fastest shower in the world before coming down here. A week of dried daemon blood sure stank.

“Cor’s got you working overtime, eh?” Gladio said.

“Yeah, he’s really putting me through the wringer. Not sure I appreciate it right now.” “Take it as a compliment,” Ignis said. “The Marshall knows your skills.”

“I’m also very good at drinking, but you don’t see me doing that full-time.”

Ignis took his glass and offered it to Aranea.

“You can while you’re here with us.”

Aranea took the glass and drained it.

“Thanks. I swear, I’m getting you guys a round. Be right back.” She got back up out of her seat, always fast and efficient with her movements. Or, Ignis wondered at the back of his mind, perhaps she didn’t like sitting next to him.

“She’s looking good,” Gladio said.

“Yeah, she’s a real hottie,” Prompto added.

“I shall take your word for it,” Ignis said, feeling around for the pitcher to refill his glass, whatever was left. Gladio pushed the pitched toward his hand.

“You’ve seen her Iggy,” Gladio said. “She’s still the same, just… freshly showered.” “She smells great, doesn’t she? Like sylleblossoms after the rain,” Prompto said.

Gladio gave him a look and Ignis smirked. Of course Prompto was more interested in Aranea’s bathing products than anything else.

“Well, lucky me then,” Ignis said. “My sense of smell has certainly heightened.” Aranea came back holding a large, unmarked bottle and four shot glasses.

“Okay boys, we’re having some fun tonight. I’ve got the cheapest home-brewed liquor from the bar and the biggest hangover you’ve ever had right here in my capable hands.”

“How kind,” Gladio smirked.

“Oh, but the fun doesn’t stop there,” Aranea continued, as she took her seat next to Ignis again. Her stomach did that little flip once more, but she ignored it. “We’re going to play a little game. We’ll go around the circle and take a shot. With every drink, you have to say one truth and one lie, and the rest of us have to guess which is which.” “I feel like I already know everything I need to about these two,” Gladio said. “But Aranea doesn’t know everything about us,” Prompto countered.

“Exactly. And I want to get to know my new friends a little better,” Aranea said as she divvied out the first round. Ignis caught a strong whiff of Aranea’s scent as she poured. Damn Prompto, but he was right; she really did smell like sylleblossoms after the rain.

“Okay, who wants to go first?” Aranea asked. No one responded.

“I shall,” Ignis offered eventually. He took a shot and grimace at the taste; it was truly something offensive. “My two things: I know how to play the piano, and I do 100 pushups a day.”

“Oh, come on,” Aranea laughed. “Give me something juicier!”

“Alright,” he said after a pause. “I write depressing songs on the piano, and I can do 100 pushups a day—naked.”

Aranea raised her brows and, truthfully, quite liked the thought of the latter.

“I already know the answer,” Gladio said. He looked at Aranea. “Care to hazard a guess?” “Hmm... “ Aranea eyed Ignis up and down. “As much as I’d like to picture you doing naked pushups, that’s the lie.” “What makes you think so?” Ignis asked.

“Your arms are toned, but not enough for 100 pushups a day. Plus, why in the world would you do it naked? There’s no logical reason for it. Now a secret troubadour, I can see that. You have to channel your feelings somewhere, since you’re so repressed all the time.”

Ignis scoffed, but then a corner of his mouth raised to a small smile. “You are correct.”

“What can I say, I’m good at reading even the most closed books,” Aranea said as she looked at Ignis, and she swore it felt like he was making eye contact with her. She quickly deflected. “Blondie, you’re next.”

“Okay, okay.” Prompto took a shot. “Something juicy… Well, I’ve been to a brothel, and I remove all the hair from my body.” “Ha!” Aranea laughed. “You’ve clearly never been to a brothel, kid.” “What makes you think that??” “Oh, I don’t know… something about that hairless chest of yours, I guess.” Prompto made a face at Aranea, and gestured to Gladio. “Your turn, big guy.”

Gladio took a shot. “I’ve had a threesome, and I’ve had a foursome.”

“So unfair,” Prompto moaned under his breath.

“I must admit, even I don’t know the answer to that,” Ignis said.

Aranea squinted her eyes at Gladio. “Hmm… The foursome is the lie.” “What makes you think that?” Gladio asked.

“You want to have a foursome, but it’s still on your bucket list. You’ve only joined the three-way club. Devil’s three-way, maybe?” “A gentleman never tells.”

“Devil’s it is.” “What’s that?” Prompto asked.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Aranea quipped.

“Your turn, Ms. Highwind,” Ignis said.

“Okay then.” Aranea took her shot. “I’m an orphan, and I’ve never been in love.” “Whoa, this got deep real fast,” said Prompto.

“That’s the point. It’s a game to get to know each other,” Aranea winked at him.

“You’re not an orphan,” Ignis said casually.

“Why do you think that?” Aranea countered.

“Estranged, perhaps. But you still have people out there, don’t you? Or, at least you hope you do. It’s why you accept Cor sending you all over Eos—the hope that you might find someone you’ve lost touch with a long time ago.”

“You’re good, Specs. Real good.” “So I am correct?”

“No. But you almost had me believing you.” Aranea laughed and took an extra shot. “I am an orphan. And I have been in love, once, believe it or not. A long time ago. It’s mostly forgotten now, except for a little bit of warning not to pull that shit again.” “You don’t wish to fall in love again?” Ignis asked.

“Not if I can help it.” “What happens when you can’t?” “Can’t what?” “Help it?” Ignis kept his line of sight in Aranea’s direction, knowing just how much this seemed to unsettle her based on the subtle movements he’d been picking up on. The moment stirred with an invisible electricity.

“Well,” Gladio said, clearing his throat. “Prompto and I are going to play some darts.” “We are?” Prompto said.

“Yeah, we are. Sorry Iggy, I know you can’t join just yet.” Gladio turned to Aranea. “Throwing darts in the dark is still a work in progress after the last incident. Let’s just say Prompto got in Iggy’s way.” “Wish I’d seen it,” Aranea smiled.

“Anyway, we’ll be over there if you guys need anything. We’ll leave the cheap liquor to you.”

Gladio pulled Prompto up from his seat and the two left, leaving Ignis and Aranea alone for the first time. Aranea poured two shots. “So. Should we keep playing?” “Ladies first.”

—

The cheap liquor bottle was nearly empty. Prompto and Gladio had started an impromptu darts tournament with some other hunters, and Ignis and Aranea remained on the bench in the booth. They sat a little closer, a little more comfortably, though something tentative still hung in the air.

“I’m running out of answers,” Aranea said.

“Out of truths, or lies?” Ignis asked.

He had learned a lot about Aranea Highwind in the last hour. He now knew that she had remained adamantly single for the last eight years after her one and only experience of being in love didn’t end so well. He knew that she sometimes had nightmares at night, not for the things that she’s done, but for the things she hadn’t. He knew that she liked to be on top.

Aranea, in turn, was learning an awful lot about Ignis Scientia as well, like how he secretly wanted to have a child one day, or that he had gotten off in the tent once when all the guys were sleeping (he left out the part about it being after meeting Aranea for the first time—her aerial moves had apparently left an impression on the young strategist).

“I’m afraid I don’t have much left in me if I want to be of use tomorrow,” Ignis said, finishing his drink.

“Okay, last one,” Aranea replied, taking a shot. She studied Ignis’ face, the scars looking ever more attractive as they healed onto his skin, his face still handsome and alarmingly refined after so many drinks. Her own head was swimming, her inhibitions loosened. Why did he have to look so good, dammit.

“Which one’s a truth and which one’s a lie,” she continued. “I think Gladio is hot.”

“Okay…”

“Or, I think you are hot.” Ignis blinked. Sure, they had been revealing personal details all evening, but this one caught him off guard. Inside, he felt butterflies at the implication. But outwardly, he kept his cool.

“Interesting options,” he replied coolly.

“Yeah? So what do you think?” Aranea leaned in a little closer. “Well, I believe this is somewhat of a… trick question.”

Ignis tapped his finger on his lips. “How so?”

Aranea licked hers as she watched.

“I believe that you do find Gladio attractive.” “Oh?” “Well, who wouldn’t enjoy his rugged good looks and impressive physique? But I think that, perhaps, you find me even more attractive.”

Aranea let out a small laugh. “And what gives you that idea?”

“Well, for starters, you have been slowly moving closer to me all night. Your breathing has quickened as you asked this question, implying that you’re a touch nervous. And...” Ignis shifted in his seat so he was facing her, breaking the contact of their thighs—Aranea missed the warmth immediately. Ignis then lightly touched her cheek.

“... Your cheeks are hot, meaning that you may be blushing.”

Aranea wanted to move her face away, but his touch felt too good. Ignis gently took her wrist next.

“Ah, and there it is. Your heart rate is increasing. I dare say, you appear to find my touch… exhilarating.”

Aranea didn’t know how to respond; it was so forward of him. But not wrong—no, certainly not wrong.

“You seem speechless, Aranea.” Damn, she liked hearing him say her name.

“Well, you’re giving me quite the analysis.”

Ignis took her hand and placed it on his chest.

“Do you feel that?”

“Your heart?” “Yes. Apparently, I find your touch exhilarating too.”

A part of Aranea wanted to pull her hand away and run from the bar. She wanted to crawl into bed and forget that this ever happened. Pretend that she didn’t love the way Ignis smirked or how he just knew things. Push away the months of invasive thoughts about him that she had tried so hard to keep at bay. Why did she have to approach them in the bar tonight? Why did she pose that truth and lie?

But she stayed there anyway, hand on his heart, feeling it beating beneath her palm. Faster and faster and faster.

“I…”

She had no idea what to say—a novel sensation for her. She kept her hand in place and tilted her head so that it rested on Ignis’ shoulder. She closed her eyes.

Maybe it was the cheap liquor, but Aranea could suddenly see different futures unfolding in front of her eyes, one with Ignis and one without.

Without him, she was strong and independent. She made her way through the darkness with a singular determination to both survive and help as many people as she could. Emotionally, she was even-keeled. She was absolutely fine on her own.

With him, however, she was even better. She was a part of a team, someone to help her survive and help others. Someone to lift her out of darkness in those moments when it all became too much. She was still fine—but often, she was also happy. And scared, and warm, and angry, and safe, and exhilarated. In this dreary darkness, she was alive. Aranea raised her head off Ignis’ shoulder and moved her lips to his ear.

“If this is so exhilarating, then what should we do about it?” she whispered.

Ignis traced her fingers with his own.

“Something tells me you already know,” he whispered back.

A flash interrupted the moment, so strong that even Ignis seemed to sense it. Aranea turned to see Prompto grinning stupidly with his camera. “Sorry guys—had to! Noct will want to see this someday. Carry on!”

He jetted back to the dartboard and Aranea turned to Ignis, feeling slightly sobered from the flash.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked, taking his hand. “Just a walk. Nothing more.” “Nothing more,” Ignis echoed, but he knew better.

They both knew better.

He will kiss her, and she will kiss him back. They will stumble into a small room and make love in tangled sheets. He will find himself quickly falling in love with her, and she the same, though she will try to deny it as long as she could. Eventually, there will be no more denying. There would be no more lies.

Just one truth.

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