Author's note: More fic than song, but that's ok. Mostly torture with little plot, falling back onto the old tried 'n' true Sven/Lance/Keith triangle while waiting for other things to germinate. Having exhausted (I guess) the possibilities of songfics from my Jamie O'Neal CD, I've moved on. The score is currently Jamie 4, Cyndi 3.
Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron. The song is by Cyndi Thomson.
There Goes the Boy
The balcony overlooked the courtyard. The library overlooked the moat. Neither of those places offered the view in which Sven was most interested.
In a few minutes, his room would. A few minutes would be enough. He hoped . . .
Leaning heavily on his cane, he levered himself up from the chair, and grimaced at the dull ache that still lingered in his leg. His memory about that last assault was like a spliced piece of film, images tumbling together in confusion. The fierce attack, a pitched battle with laser rifles against the robots, the long fall from the tower . . . The doctors assured him that eventually, he would regain the full use of his leg. Eventually . . .
He limped over to the window, and pulled the heavy drape aside enough to peer out. His sitting room was just above the practice yard, where Keith often put the team through their paces in hand to hand.
And it was nearly time for practice.
The pain in leg was forgotten, lost in the sudden pain in his chest, though he could feel himself smiling. The heartache was almost welcome, distracting from the more physical hurt of his leg, but deeper, more powerful somehow.
Lance was the only one there, brown hair lightened by the sun, body lithe and graceful as he stretched before the others arrived. Sven felt his smile grow. It was one of his favorite tricks; arrive early, stretch out, then complain and goof off while everyone else was trying to do their own exercises. It was if he'd designed it especially to annoy Keith; it got him Keith's attention, anyway, and that was what Lance wanted.
And that was how it had always been. The smile collapsed. Sven felt hollow. It was never him that Lance wanted, when Lance was what he wanted so badly. This . . . what he most wanted to forget, what he wanted to be blurred by illness, or just by time, this he could remember perfectly.
After all this time, he couldn't recall why his family had moved from Sweden. Perhaps he'd never really known in the first place. All he could remember was his first sight of the boy next door, glimpsed over the fence as he'd helped his parents carry the boxes into the house. All he'd seen at first were blue eyes dancing with mischief and a mane of brown hair. Later, as his parents were unpacking, he'd gone out into the back yard, into the withering summer heat. His attention was grabbed by someone calling, "Hey, new kid!" When he'd turned, he'd seen Lance leaning over the fence, grinning impishly. "Ya wanna be friends?" Simple as that. A new best friend for life, right there in the sweltering New Mexico afternoon.
At the age of 12, he'd fallen in love for the first and perhaps last time in his life.
Sven shook himself out of his memories. Staring down at the lone figure below, he knew the exact moment that Lance became aware of him. Before Lance could turn and see his face at the window, Sven let the curtain fall back into place. He tried to shift some of his weight from his injured leg, and leaned wearily against the wall by the window.
He knew well that all Lance had ever wanted from him was friendship. Sven had pushed the matter only once, and when his shy pass had been gently deflected, they'd gone on as they always had. As painlessly as they could. But not painlessly enough, because he hurt.
He became aware of the tear rolling down his cheek. I know you don't love me, Lance, he thought, wiping it away and closing his eyes. But I love you. I want you to be happy. I just wish you could be happy with me . . .
Lance could feel the eyes on his back, and smiled. He knew it was Sven, watching from his window. My "big brother", always watching out for me, he thought fondly. He also knew when Sven turned away. He continued with his exercise, even though Keith had canceled hand to hand practice today. I'll never be able to give you what you want, but I can give you this.
But there was another pair of eyes studying him sadly, ones that he didn't know were there. Keith quickly ducked back around the corner of the castle when he saw Lance practicing alone. But he seemed not to notice, and Keith stepped out again after a moment.
Oh, God, the sight of him still makes my heart jump, Keith thought, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. But he couldn't tear his eyes away; he had to drink his fill. That's how it had been, for years now. He simply couldn't get enough, needing Lance as surely as he needed air to breathe.
It's why I always went with him when he wanted to slip out after curfew, or cut class, or find trouble. Keith smiled at that. God, he was so good at finding trouble . . . and thankfully I was able to talk us out of it later, most of the time. I didn't even know why I was so drawn to him; I was so naïve. I wish I'd known he felt the same way, but at least he knew what was happening. It wasn't until he kissed me the first time, here on Arus, that I realized what I felt was more than friendship . . .
His smile faltered. And now, do I even have that? When I know what I'm missing, and want it back so badly . . .
Does he still feel the same?
Now that he could no longer feel Sven's gaze on his back, Lance's mind was only partly on the moves he was practicing. The rest of it was filled with Keith.
This was the only time he could allow himself to think of Keith, when there was no one around, and he could safely break down, if he needed to. At least, came the wry thought, the routine is distracting enough so that I won't do that. I think.
Studious, serious Keith, who, when I first met him at the Academy, looked like he wouldn't know a good time if it bit him. I don't believe in love at first sight, but it certainly was desire. Or maybe it was love hidden under the desire.
Who could have guessed that beneath that serious veneer there was a fun-loving soul just waiting to come out and play?
Lance stopped moving, and ran his hands through his hair, panting just slightly. He smiled faintly at his memory. And, of course, once I discovered that, it was all downhill for me. Most, if not all, of the stunts I pulled while at the Academy were just to get Keith to notice me, to look at me with admiration. He did, too, and it only made me want him more. But it took Sven's injury to make me find my courage and kiss him.
And now . . . what has happened to us? After all this time, all the trouble we've gone through, what happened?
He glanced up, suddenly, and thought, My imagination is running away with me again. There was Keith, staring at him with longing in his dark eyes.
Hope burst into flame. Does he . . . does he still want me? Still love me? I don't even remember what happened that made us break up. It was probably my fault, but even if it wasn't, I'll still tell him I'm sorry . . . I'll tell him I love him . . .
Smiling hesitantly, Keith took a step toward Lance, who blinked at him in surprise, then smiled back. Lance raised his hand, as if to brush Keith's hair away from his face, as he used to. Oh, God, Keith, I've missed you . . . He opened his mouth to give voice to that thought.
Just so you'll be with me again . . .
"Keith!" Allura's voice split the tension. Keith stopped short, startled. Then agony etched itself on his face, as immediately, Lance snapped his mouth shut and dropped his hand, spinning away. Ashes in his mouth, tears in his eyes.
He didn't see the quick furious look that Keith shot Allura, full of resentment and pain, as she took his arm and dragged him in the direction of the lake, chattering cheerfully.
Keith was so busy trying to keep from screaming his anger and hurt at Allura that he didn't notice Lance turn around to watch them as they left.
Sven twitched the curtain aside again, just to have one more glimpse . . . He saw Lance standing still in the center of the practice yard, shoulders slumped, staring. Following Lance's gaze, he saw Keith's familiar form moving away, his back rigid, with Allura wrapped around one arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Sven shook his head, and watched until the red and pink figures disappeared into the trees. When he glanced back down at the practice yard, it was empty. He let the drape fall once more.
***
April 13, 2002
© randi (K. Shepard), 2002.