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Lance hasn’t been home in a while.
He returned to the Garrison after the space war. He was debating for a while what to do—go back to studying, find himself a new hobby, take a break and work somewhere else—but he was born to fly. While flying , perhaps, isn’t the thing he wants to do for another couple years, teaching future flight students and being part of the Garrison administration was close enough for him.
However, he’s working towards being a commanding officer. Lance loves kids, but hormonal teenagers who remind him too much of pre-Voltron Lance are practically the bane of his existence. Right now, he’s a teacher, but if he were to land that commanding officer job, then he’d deal with far less kids and way more adults. Which he is still figuring out if there truly is a difference in how bad both are, but whatever.
The students are on vacation, which means Lance gets a chance to get away. He called up his mom and asked if he could stay over for a few days, to which she said yes after a multitude of questions regarding Keith, Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, and why he hasn’t called her in months.
Lance wasn’t afraid to go home or anything. He’s wanted to go home since he came back, but it’s just so far away from the desert and he’s been procrastinating on sending his car to the auto shop for a long time. But it’s fine now! His used, slightly beat-up gray truck passed down from his dad has a fixed transmission and has lasted the whole eight-hour ride to his southern hometown.
The rose-toned home he grew up in is quaint and roomy, two stories high and an adequate backyard that could fit the swingset they bought all those years ago. Lance remembers the first step he took in the place at twelve years old. First, a wide, wooden living room conjuring fantasies of what it could be. A kitchen a little ways past it where his mom and dad could dance in, three rooms upstairs that became split between him and his twin sister, his two older brothers, and his parents, a room downstairs for his sister and grandma, a bathroom on each floor, and a spacious dining room they could eat at and still see the television from the living room. Growing up here was the second best thing to Cuba, and coming back is more sweet than bitter.
The door flies open the moment Lance pulls up to the driveway. His niece Celeste and nephew Elian run towards him and Lance can’t help the smile that comes on his face. They’re the only kids who don’t remind him of the ones back at the Garrison. Lance steps out of his car to be met by the cool winter air running through his hair. The sun is setting behind their home and the sky is clear of clouds.
“Tio Lance!” the two cheer in unison. Celeste is wearing matching blue pajamas with flower decals and her brown curly hair frizzes around her circular face. Elian sports a car-themed onesie, a recent haircut, and tiny shoes he didn’t manage to completely put on. Lance squats down just in time to hug them both.
“Hey you two,” he greets back, ruffling their hair. “Your parents are here?”
“Yeah!” Celeste says as she jumps up and down. “Abuelita told us you were coming home and we all came to see you!”
Lance solemnly nods. “So I get the couch, huh.”
A finger is pressed against his cheekbone. Lance looks down to his left to see Elian poking his Altean mark, eyes wide and lips stretched into a line. He hears Celeste gasp.
“Oh, Abuelita isn’t going to like that,” she whispers.
“What?” Lance says incredulously. “What do you mean?”
“Papi got a tattoo on his back of a phoenix,” Elian mentions, poking his mark again, “and Abuelita got really mad.”
“Marco got a tattoo?”
“Yeah,” Celeste says, crossing her arms, “and my daddy got a really, really small tattoo of a dolphin near his foot, and she said some really mean words in Spanish.”
“Luis got a tattoo?”
The kids nod. Lance tries to stifle a laugh but can’t help it. His mom hasn’t always been too fond of tattoos. Ever since his siblings and him were little, she’d tell them she’d kick them out of the house if they ever got one. He and Rachel would joke about getting matching tattoos, since they’re twins, and his mom would give them the silent treatment for all of dinner. They always believed it was all in good fun, but now he may think differently.
“What does she think now?” Lance asks, bringing his fingertips to graze against his marks. “Of the tattoos?” This could be the defining factor of what she’ll think about his Altean marks. He wasn’t planning on getting them. It just kind of, well, happened. Allura profusely apologized about them, but Lance honestly didn’t mind them. He’s always liked the whole Altean look. It only got a little weird after they stopped dating and he just had some glowly blue crescents on his cheekbones left from his ex.
Elian shrugs. “ Papi wears shirts, so she doesn’t see his tattoo anyways.”
Lance chuckles. “I hope he wears shirts.”
“Sometimes I see her staring at Daddy’s tattoo,” says Celeste, “but she doesn’t say anything. It’s really small, and Daddy wears boots all the time.”
“Ew.”
“You’re wearing boots too, Tio,” Elian remarks.
Lance glances down at his red rubber boots. They matched his black jeans and white shirt and he didn’t bother packing anything else. “Shh.”
“Mommy tried throwing his boots away,” Celeste chimes back in, “but he hid them.”
Lance nods and stands back up. “Well, let’s go inside—”
“Lancito!”
He freezes at his mother’s voice. Suddenly the fact that he’s got accidental face tattoos dawns on him, and he can’t hide them. He’s not exactly Altean. Can’t camouflage them into his skin or any fancy stuff, no, he’s just got some fucking alien shit on his face. Below him, Elian and Celeste glare up at him, eyes beady wide and impishly smiling at him.
“ Buena suerte, Tio! ” Elian sings as the two of them run back into the house, giggling mercilessly. Lance’s mom starts walking towards him, a smile bright on her face at the sight of seeing her son after so long. Lance waves back at her, then turns towards the trunk of his car to get his bags. It gives him extra time for his mom not to look at his face, to not make the realization of the blue things on his cheeks.
Her footsteps get closer and closer. No biggie. Nooo biggie, all he has to do is explain them to her. Not face tattoos, more like...a birthmark! Yeah, a birthmark. Engraved on his skin, can’t be lasered off, gotten by an alien who gave him a kiss, they’re not a thing anymore, she’s now with Romelle and Lance is now excessively flirting with Keith, yaddah yaddah. No biggie! His mom isn’t new to alien marks because her daughter is dating Acxa, a whole ass alien!
An alien, he remembers, that doesn’t have any defining marks on her skin. She’s just purple. Can’t pull a Keith and say it’s a scar either. Literally makes no sense to do that.
“Lance, como estas! ” she says, this time much closer. Lance takes a quick deep breath and turns around with a grin. His mom hugs him before taking a look at his face, snuggling close to his chest and softly rubbing her palms over his back. She’s got on a stained purple apron over a white button-up shirt and brown pants. She hums against his skin so contently. Despite the looming idea of her reacting badly to his Altean marks, he relishes in the feeling of having her arms around him. Mother and son back together.
Lance has always been close to his family. Technically, he’s the youngest, since Rachel was born six minutes earlier, but they were both equally babied by everyone in the house. Of course, there were times when they all fought and yells echoed through the atmosphere, but once they sat for dinner and watched Sabado Gigante it all fizzled away. His mom would tell them bedtime stories for years to come. Whenever he felt down, his mother’s arms would greet him before any words had to be said.
So, hopefully a pair of alien “birthmarks” won’t change that.
“I’m good,” Lance answers, patting her back before she pulls away. “You?”
“ Bien, un poco cansada pero— ”
Lance mom’s soft brown eyes blink at him. Her brows slowly furrow together and she looks sternly at him, getting closer and closer to his face.
His beating heart rams against the confines of his ribcage. It’s not a big deal. Just blue birthmarks. That he wasn’t born with. On his face. Below his eyes. They accentuate his blue eyes and only sometimes glow. Keith likes them, so his mom should too, huh.
“ ¿Que son esos? ” she asks without her tone lifting up at the end, pointing at his face.
Lance looks up and away from her, doing his best to make it seem like she’s pointing somewhere else. “What is what?”
“What is that, on your face? ”
She pokes each mark like Elian did. Lance tries a smile at her. “Birthmarks?”
Rather than respond, she grabs his wrist and drags him into their home. He stumbles and tries to listen to the words his mother is mumbling under her breath but fails.
The second Lance is standing in the living room, still with off-white painted walls and olive furniture, everyone in his family stares at him. Marco sits on the floor, where Celeste and Elian were running circles around him but have now paused. Rachel, Luis and his wife Amanda sit on the long couch across the television. His grandma sits on an armchair to the right of them, and Veronica and his dad sit on the loveseat opposite of her. Each have the same expressionless face. Lance feels very, very awkward.
“ Buenas tardes ,” he slices into the dead silent room.
“Look at him,” his mom says, shutting the door behind them and pointing at his cheekbones again. Lance sighs. “ Tatuajes. ”
“They aren’t tattoos, Mom.”
“Mm, they look like tattoos,” Rachel says. Lance scowls at her and she scowls back.
“There’s nothing else they could be,” Marco says between the children that have reverted back to running around him, “except tattoos.”
“Why?” his dad asks. “I don’t think you would get face tattoos.”
Lance drops his bags and shrugs his shoulders. “Nice to see you too.”
“Oh my god,” Veronica whispers. She gets up from the couch and walks up to Lance. She wears a grey sweater zipped up to her neck and a pair of light washed jeans, and her glasses have slid down the bridge of her nose. “Those are Altean marks. Like the ones Allura has.”
“You got matching tattoos with your ex? ” Luis asks in disbelief.
“Okay, can I just, like, explain it really quick?” Lance begs with a laugh. “It’s not that serious and they’re not tattoos.”
They all gather around the living room, squeezing in between each other to fit on the couches, as Lance stands before the television screen. His mom has her arms crossed over her chest, but his dad next to her is having a hard time trying not to laugh. Grandma is on the brink of falling asleep. Amanda has Elian and Celeste seated on her lap. Marco, Luis, Veronica, and Rachel all share a signature Sanchez look: crooked half-smile, teasing eyes, and a string of jokes waiting to be said at the tip of their tongue.
No biggie, Lance tells himself. They’re not face tattoos. He only has to really convince his mom. The rest of his family doesn’t care so much.
“These”—Lance points at his cheekbones—“are Altean marks. Real Altean marks, not tattoos I sat down and paid for. I got them back when I was dating Allura. And we aren’t dating anymore, we broke up a while ago.”
“How did you get them?” his mom asks deadpanned. She narrows her eyes at him.
Lance purses his lips together and looks to the ceiling for answers. This is where it sounds a bit ridiculous, but he doesn’t even know how to lie about it. “She, um, kissed me, and I got them.”
No response. Just blank stares.
The silence extends for over a minute. His family share glances between each other, all successfully avoiding Lance’s own confuzed gaze, and seem to get their point across without any words. Lance feels disconnected and even a little angry.
Grandma’s snore breaks the quiet demeanor.
“So you’re telling me,” his mom says, leaning forward and staring at Lance, “that your alien ex-girlfriend gave you a besito and you got Altean marks?”
Lance swallows his fear. “Yeah,” his voice cracks.
His mom turns to look at his sister Veronica. “So if your alien girlfriend gives you a besito , your skin will turn purple?”
Veronica blinks. Marco, Rachel, and Luis are silently laughing, bodies shaking and hands clutching at their stomachs.
“So, like, alien STDs?” Rachel snorts, which makes Marco and Luis burst into roaring laughter. Veronica’s eyes widen. Lance groans and covers his face.
“Point is, they’re not tattoos!” Lance says seriously. “And they haven’t done any significant change to my body!”
Except everyone’s laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, and a piece of him agrees. He’s always thought the story was an embarrassing one. By all means, he’s happy he was with Allura and had a great time with her, but they both fell out of it after a few months. Their last kiss happened to be the one where she gave him the marks and it made it, well, awkward when they broke up. Really awkward.
“You think Galra genes do that?” Veronica asks and looks at her brother. “Should I ask Acxa? For both of our sakes?”
“‘Both of our sakes?’” Lance repeats, confused.
Her crooked half-smile returns. Everyone is suddenly focused on the new topic—even his grandma, who hardly understands a lick of English, but woke up for the gossip. “Acxa told me all about you and Keith.”
The family breaks out in “oohs.” A fierce heat engulfs Lance’s face. He points at Veronica, opening his mouth to say something and falling short, then balls his hand into a fist. He crosses his arms and tries thinking of words to say, anything to come back from what his sister has said, and fails.
“Keith?” his dad asks. “The alien boy?”
“Half!” Lance fights back, voice almost yelling. “Half alien! Half Galra!”
“So is Acxa, you’re not winning anything,” Veronica mumbles.
“Okay, but Keith doesn’t have purple skin.”
“Don’t matter, you already got your alien-transmitted-disease. I don’t.”
“This isn’t a competition, hijos! ” his mom yells. They all break into laughter. Lance rolls his eyes but laughs too. Alien biology is something they may never truly understand, especially Altean—they have a new civilization that will dedicate themselves to rediscovering that. If nothing’s happened to Veronica yet, then the Galra are most likely nothing to worry about. Lance hasn’t gotten the chance to kiss Keith either, so there’s that.
The little ones get off Amanda’s lap and hug each of Lance’s leg.
“I like them!” Celeste says. “They’re real pretty.”
“Tiny moons!” Elian joins in.
“And blue is really pretty. Daddy’s tattoo was blue, but now it’s faded and ugly.”
Lance watches Luis’s face turn into a grimace.
“And Papi’s tattoo is just black,” Elian sighs.
“It’s an outline,” Marco fixes. Rachel rolls his eyes next to him.
“Well!” Rachel exclaims, standing up and clapping her hands together once. “Today’s lesson is: Lance doesn’t have tattoos on his face! I spent all of this morning making empanadas so if we don’t move this to the dining room or something, I will wreak havoc.” She ends with a grin and heads off into the kitchen.
Everyone follows suit, leaving the conversation behind, except his mother. She looks down at the grandchildren clinging to her son’s legs.
“Go eat some empanadas Tia Rachel made,” she says, trying to pull them off Lance.
“What if they’re soggy again?” Elian groans and pouts. “The piña juice got all over the bread.”
“They’re guava this time.”
Elian and Celeste meet each other’s happy gaze and scream at the top of their lungs. Both scramble off his legs and run to the kitchen. Lance’s mom cups the side of his cheek and he leans into it. Her thumb rubs over his right Altean mark.
“They do go with your eyes,” she caves in.
“Yeah, they do,” he agrees.
“Keith likes them?”
Lance nods and feels his face go warm all over again. He really does like him. Even when he’s off doing gallant work across the universe, his heart races against the time it takes for Keith to get back to Earth. Lance has decided that when he gets back, he’s going to ask him out. Take him to the mountains nearby and cook him some homey food. Hopefully it’ll lead to more, but Lance is content with little things when it comes to Keith.
“Why are they glowing.”
“What?”
Lance’s mom backs away from him, eyes delirious with a wide, open smile on her face. “They’re glowing!”
Lance can see the light radiating from his marks in his peripheral view. The glowing used to be very sporadic, but recently he’s noticed they do their thing when he blushes. Kind of. Lance isn’t entirely capable of having a visible blush, but when he does feel it coming, his Altean marks glow blue. It did that plenty of times the last time he was with—
“It’s because I mentioned Keith, right?” his mom guesses with a melodic tone. “Ay, mi niño precioso, all happy because of Keith! Ahh!” She turns around and runs toward the kitchen. “Lance’s tattoos glow when you mention his novio.”
The family erupts in “oohs” again. Lance groans, smiles, then heads toward the kitchen as well. “He’s not my novio! ”
“Yet!”