Red and Blue make Purple

Pre-Klance (or is it?)- First Impressions

someonetheelusivefangirl

Here’s a headcanon I’ve been really keen to post for a while. Why? Coz the amazing @edelwary has gifted me with fantastic fanart for it!

This headcanon came about as I was just thinking about Voltron, as I usually do (far FAR too often), and I was once again considering just how Lance and Keith interacted (if ever). I have had many ideas about this in the past, but I suddenly thought of another, and the following is the result.

Apologies for any mistakes (I literally found three before I posted this)!

Before the cadets were put into certain courses, all of them must have trained for at least several months. Lance was just above average, since although he WAS a good pilot for the majority of the time, his streak of crashing brought down his grade a lot. His teachers had tried to advise him on how to improve, but it was just too technical for Lance to truly understand what he should be changing, whilst they couldn’t afford to allow Lance to monopolise their attention.

At this point, Lance had started to worry about his assignment. No matter how hard he tried, it never seemed to make a difference. He just couldn’t see what was going wrong.

One day, his class’ instructor was on sick leave, so the Garrison decided to merge two classes for the day, thinking that the change might actually be beneficial for the trainees as they could watch others’ mistakes and successes. When Lance discovered it was Keith’s class, he felt equally optimistic. Boy, was he mistaken!

Despite being in completely separate classes, Lance had heard of Keith. Of course he had, he was the shining prodigy of the Garrison. Lance had even managed to occasionally see Keith, though always at a distance, yet his aura had always felt so serious and unapproachable. Lance shook the thought from his head as he caught the end of the instructor’s usual lecture in flying procedures.

Lance had felt an odd mixture of dread and gratitude when it was announced that they would be doing flight simulations. Now was his chance to watch Keith first-hand. He didn’t have to wait long, as after a few mediocre performances from his classmates, the instructor called for Keith to show them what they should be “aiming towards”.

Lance had expected him to be good, but he had also expected the rumours about him to be exaggerated slightly, as rumours often were. They weren’t. Lance wasn’t sure if the praise did him justice. He handled the simulator as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Keith piloted as if the ship was a part of himself, effortlessly pulling off quick, smooth manoeuvres, barely batting an eye at the readings his craft relayed to him. In fact, he barely glanced down at the controls at all, obviously having memorised the entire layout of the simulator. Instead his gaze remained almost entirely locked on the view in front of the ship, eyes darting quickly as he assessed possible dangers. Lance realised with a shock that Keith had to be working out all of the distances in his head since he seemed to barely peek at his sensors.

A gentle elbow in his side caught his attention and he tore his gaze from the monitor to find Hunk, a classmate whom he’d bonded with quickly over the year, attempting to hide a smile.

“You might wanna close your mouth, Lance.” Feeling his cheeks burn, Lance snapped his mouth shut, turning away with absolutely no trace of a pout on his face. None.

The sound of the simulator door opening drew his attention and he watched as Keith waltzed out as if he hadn’t, no doubt, outperformed some of their seniors. Whilst the next cadet was called up, Lance sidled up to Keith, clearing his throat a couple of times to get his attention.

“Can I…help you?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, could you watch my flight and give me some feedback?”

“Um, I don’t know if I can say anything to hel-“

“No, don’t worry! You obviously know your stuff, so this will be a piece of cake!” Lance didn’t notice Keith’s concerned look, nor the uncertain scowl that came across his face as Lance returned to Hunk.

Keith was in an odd position. He’d never been asked to assess someone’s flying before, and was wondering how to go about it when the cadet in question was called up. Before he headed inside the simulator, he turned his head to send Keith a smile. Why had he asked Keith? He was aware that he was top of their year, but he had no experience in advising others, nevermind critiquing them. Yet Keith did watch. He paid more attention than he normally did when he observed his classmates.

At first, Keith was a little confused. The cadet was obviously a competent trainee pilot. His reaction times were good, the time he took to read his sensors and equipment was actually quite a bit less than others in their year. Even his manoeuvring was pretty good, only a couple of close calls and small adjustments needed from time to time. His flying was certainly not textbook, but Keith didn’t think this was much of a problem, seeing as it still produced the same results. Then the last part of the simulation started.

The Garrison put a lot of effort into making sure their simulations weren’t monotonous or predictable. After all, how could cadets improve if they were only learning to fly one course? Until a few years back, the simulation had been changed for every class, but due to Matt Holt’s work on the system, the simulation was now comprised of randomised components of flight courses, which would change for every simulation. Now the cadets that flew last had no advantage from watching their peers’ performances.

Personally, Keith thought that the course was pretty decent this time, that maybe there would be nothing to critique as the course wouldn’t challenge him enough. Apparently it was challenging enough for the cadet, “Lance” the display read, and honestly Keith was lost as to why. Upon starting the final stage, Lance’s control had suddenly become jerky, and Keith watched as Lance focused solely on the screen, not glancing down at all as he had been during the rest of the flight. The most likely reason was so that Lance could judge the distances and dimensions himself, yet his gaze would only focus on the obstacle he was immediately facing. With each obstacle, the time in which he had to react to the next hazard diminished steadily, until at last, the inevitable happened.

Lance clipped a wing on an outcrop, sending his craft in a vicious downward spiral. Keith winced as he watched the short descent. He had only been a few hundred metres in the air. He had been so close.

Keith went over the flight in his head as Lance trudged out of the simulator. Keith hadn’t seen a crash in a long time. Everyone had managed to learn to avoid full collisions after half a year of training. He watched Lance’s shoulders rise up to his ears as he slumped under the assault of the instructor’s criticism. He noted that they didn’t even mention his commendable flying up until the descent. They seemed too distracted by the crash and the awkward movements to mention anything else.

When, with a long-suffering sigh, the instructor dismissed him, Lance nodded politely before quickly merging with the crowd of students. Keith’s attention left the simulator as the next cadet stepped up. What advice could he give Lance? Keith knew what he’d have done differently whilst Lance had been flying; turn slightly sharper in places, decelerate more before doing certain moves. However, when it came down to what Lance had struggled with, the descent for landing, Keith was lost. He had no idea what was running through Lance’s head as he had gradually lost control. Was it panic? Overconfidence? Keith just didn’t know.

Thankfully, Lance didn’t approach him during the rest of the training, giving Keith more time to think over what to say. However, when they were dismissed, he was no closer to an answer than before. Maybe Lance had forgotten. Maybe Keith could get away without embarrassing himself with his inability to help. He knew he should’ve argued more against it.

To Keith’s dismay, as he left the room his gaze found Lance’s as he leant against the wall. His smile was not as bright as it had been earlier, though, given his scolding, that was understandable.

“So,” Lance started, “what do you think?” Keith wished he knew, he really did.

“What happened?” Keith watched as Lance’s brows drew together at his confused tone. Keith hadn’t expected to say it, but honestly, he didn’t know what else he /could/ say. How was he supposed to give advice, when he didn’t understand what went wrong.

“W-What do you mean “what happened”?! Weren’t you watching?”

“Of course I did. I just don’t get why your flying got so bad at the end.” Lance’s eye twitched at Keith’s words.

“If I knew why, I wouldn’t be asking for your help!” Lance retorted before taking a breath. “Look, if you don’t want to help, just say so.”

“It’s not that-“

“Then what is it? Could you see what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, yes, but-“

“So why won’t you tell me how to fix it?”

“It’s not that simple! Like I was saying, I can see what you’re doing wrong, but I don’t know /why/! You started off so well, but suddenly-”

“-What do you mean I “started off well”? Didn’t you hear the instructor?! They said that I couldn’t fly like that!” What? It had looked fine to Keith. Then Keith remembered his thought on how the style of flying was a bit unorthodox. Were the Garrison that strict? Well, when he considered their drills, he mentally scolded himself for ever wondering. Of course they were.

How could he help, then, if the part which he had thought to be good wasn’t right?! Keith had always flown as was taught. After a few months, the movements had become instinctual and now he barely had to think to perform most manoeuvres. He tried to recall how it felt in those first few months, yet he could think of only one way in which he had improved.

“Practice.” He started as he realised he’d spoken out loud again. A jaded laugh brought his attention to Lance’s face. The twisted grimace on his face sent a pain through Keith’s chest, and then Lance was walking away, long legs quickly carrying him down the corridor. “Where are you going?!”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time!” Lance’s tone was devoid of its previous friendliness. What? “Obviously I just haven’t been trying hard enough if practice is all I need to get better,” Lance turned his head, not enough to make eye contact, but enough for Keith to watch his mouth as he continued. “Thanks, Kogane.”

“Listen to the teachers! They know how to help you!” Better than Keith did, anyhow. Again, another laugh sounded as Lance approached the corner.

“Another novel idea! Why did I never think of this myself?!” Then he was gone.

Keith stood there for a few more moments, his surprise and frustration with Lance shocking him into freezing. Then he turned and stalked off to his quarters, feeling bizarrely exhausted despite having done nothing strenuous. Why wouldn’t Lance just /listen/ to him?! He was just trying to help. He had warned him he didn’t know how.

Keith shook his head. At this rate, he’d never be able to rest. He firmly shoved all thoughts of Lance and his flying to the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about than a cadet he had only just met. As Keith found out over the following months, this was easier said than done.

At first, Keith thought he was doing a good job of forgetting his encounter with Lance, except, every time he thought as such, he’d groan as his thoughts circled back to him. Occasionally, he swore he heard his classmates mention Lance, which wouldn’t surprise him as crashes had been so rare since the aspiring engineers and technicians had stopped their pilot training.

There was nothing wrong with Keith thinking about Lance. Nothing, but he still wished he could stop. Eventually, through stubborn determination, Keith managed to put the encounter out of his mind, and his life carried on in the Garrison as it had before.

However, when his instructors started commenting on a change in his flying, Keith became concerned. They assured him it was fine, that is was a sign of his natural affinity for flying. Yet, when he watched his simulation back, the style of his flying was noticeably different, yet strangely familiar. He knew that flying, and yet it wasn’t his style. He had never attempted something so different from what he was taught. Turns out that the Garrison really didn’t know best. Still, Keith felt restless with the knowledge that he had /seen/ that pattern of flight before, but he was unable to recall to whom it belonged.

He started watching his classmates, and yet none showed any signs of the new style he’d adopted, but if it hadn’t been anyone in his class… Keith’s eyes widened as the memory of the joint training came back. He struggled to recall the cadet, but his features remained stubbornly blurry in Keith’s mind. Damn his bad memory!

As he was walking, he heard a commotion ahead and he looked to discover a crowd gathered around the notice board. Someone near the back took pity on Keith and explained that the results for the pilot assignments were announced that day. Keith turned to walk away, having been informed of his new fighter pilot status by his instructor that day, when he stopped. Striding back he struggled to the front, ignoring the complaints as he squeezed through. He traced his eyes over the list of fighter pilot names. Although he didn’t know the name he was looking for, he was certain he’d be able to recognise it.

Just as he was giving up hope, someone shoved him from behind. He fell against the board, catching himself on his arms and was just about to glare at whoever had pushed him, when his gaze locked onto a name beside him. Lance McClain. He straightened up and looked to find that it was on the list of cargo pilots. He grimaced in sympathy as his memory of Lance’s desire to improve came back. He wished he could’ve helped somehow.

Now that his irritation had worn off, he only felt annoyed with his incompetency. He should’ve tried to word his thoughts better, but…maybe…. If he could help Lance now, he might stand a chance of moving up to fighter class training. Maybe then Lance wouldn’t have to face him with such a cold attitude. Thus, whenever he had a few hours to spare, Keith would go to the records room to request to watch the footage of Lance’s simulations. He was eternally grateful for the officer not asking him any questions about his odd choice of footage.

At first, it seemed like Keith might be wasting his time, as he continued to puzzle over Lance’s odd behaviour. Then, slowly, it started to come together. He originally had thought it might have to do with Lance’s perception of the depths shown in the display, because no matter how brilliant the simulation was, it still didn’t feel quite real. After all, they were trying to create an illusion of distance on a flat monitor.

Then, as he noticed the timing of Lance’s reactions, he realised that was not the case. Instead he finally thought he recognised the problem. Now he just wanted to know for certain, so he held back from approaching Lance until he watched more footage.

In the end, however, Keith never went to him. For a week later, the Garrison officially declared the failure of the Kerberos mission, and Lance was swept from his mind under the maelstrom of emotions the news churned up. In the end, he couldn’t cope.

Keith started rebelling, since the Garrison /had/ to be lying. There was no way Shiro would just disappear from Keith’s life like that. Despite his constant demands to see evidence that the passengers were no longer out there, they had refused to release any further information. So Keith had to make them admit the truth. Except, in his volatile state, Keith failed to recognise the consequences his actions would have. He paid for his lack of insight with his place in the Garrison.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anything more to do with the Garrison. He completely forgot about the cadet he had wanted to help. The cadet whom he had believed had potential to be a great pilot. He forgot until, almost two years later, someone barged in on his rescue mission.

He held back his exclamation of “Lance!”, realising that he had no idea that Keith had actually paid him any attention after their first, and only, encounter. Instead he played dumb, only acknowledging his cargo pilot status. He felt awful for forgetting about Lance, especially after finally working out how to help solve his problem. However, as Lance corrected Keith, informing him that he was in fact a fighter pilot because of Keith’s expulsion, he found himself sagging slightly in relief. At least he had still been able to make it. Obviously Lance /had/ trained hard over the past two years to become good enough for him to be the pilot to move up in class.

“So, wait a sec. You’ve remembered our first meeting this whole time?! Why did you never say?! I just thought you’d forgotten about that day.” Keith cleared his throat, feeling extremely awkward after the confession.

“I didn’t think we got off to a good start, so I was hoping that by acting ignorant we would be able to start over.”

“Only for me to hold a grudge… I mean I /would/ apologise, except you hadn’t really given me a reason to believe you had actually cared about me. Ah! Not /cared/, just… at least regret what you’d said,” Lance quickly muttered.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but I really wasn’t used to social interactions,” Keith admitted with a quiet laugh.

“No kidding!” Lance’s smirk forced the corner of Keith’s annoyed pout to twitch upwards. Damn his infectious smiles. “Hey, wait! You mentioned that you actually worked out why I kept crashing. What was it? You never said.”

“Oh, you just couldn’t visualise the craft.” At Lance’s blank look, Keith rushed to elaborate. “I noticed that you wouldn’t rely on your equipment to figure out distances, instead relying on your sight. Then I realised that most of the crashes were caused by you clipping one or more of the wings. I wondered whether, despite the fact we learnt the dimensions of the craft the simulator was imitating, you didn’t actually realise how big it was. For example, if I said to point out the length of twelve metres along that wall, would you be able to do it?” Slowly Lance shook his head, and his eyes widened as he started to catch on what Keith was saying.

“So, what you’re saying is…”

“Because you had never /seen/ how big the craft was, you couldn’t actually work out how much space it would need inside the simulation.”

“I can’t believe it was something so simple. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now that we’re flying for real! Which reminds me…” The glint in Lance’s eyes felt incredibly foreboding. “I’m never gonna let you forget that I was a better pilot than you!”

“…what? You barely ever got through a simulation without crashing!”

“But, like you said, that wasn’t because I didn’t have skills. No, you definitely admitted that when you copied my flying, the instructor complimented your technique, or rather /my/ technique! They thought /my/ technique was better! Oh, this is just great!”

“Wait a second! I never said I copied you! I just adapted my own sty-“

“Nope! You cannot deny it! I am the better pilot!”

“Oh? Wanna bet?” The two had now stood up, Keith’s arms crossed over his chest whilst Lance leaned into his space, his hands resting on his hips.

From the other side of the room, the green and yellow paladins watched with varying degrees of exasperation.

“Weren’t they supposed to be bonding?” Pidge asked as she looked up at Hunk.

“What do you mean? This /is/ how they bond.” Pidge opened her mouth to state just how bizarre that sounded when she stopped to think for a second. She sighed as she realised the truth behind Hunk’s words.

“I’m not sure if they can ever have a conversation without it ended up with them arguing.” Hunk nodded solemnly in agreement, and with one last look at the two who had begun to arm wrestle, for whatever reason, as they argued on, the two of them left the red and blue paladins to their antics.

Fin.

Aaaaaand there you go! I hope you enjoyed it! Please check out @edelwary‘s art (for this headcanon, and just their art in general) because I really love it and think more people should get to see their work!

If you’d like to read more of my headcanons, please check out my headcanon masterpost!

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Pre-Klance (or is it?)- First Impressions