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Lotor and Allura have been holed up in the garage for hours tinkering on the Sincline ships, and Lance swears, if the mice ask him to play 'Alfor Says' one more time, he's going to lose it.

Pidge and Hunk have spent an eternity, complete with powerpoint presentations, on why Lance should absolutely, positively, 'Lance do you even hear yourself right now, of course Lotor isn't going to turn into a space werewolf and run away with Allura, seriously??' stop thinking about it. And, now that they mention it, he should probably stay far, far away from the garage and the ship where Lotor is probably, right now, seducing Allura with his fake ass redemption arc.

He stops in the middle of the thought, sending his mental train carreening off the tracks. Lance needs to cut this one off at the gate: Allura is her own person - he needs to stop being a dick and let her make her own decisions. They can all fend for themselves, and part of that involves being a decent person and leaving it up to Allura to accept or reject (probably accept, ugh) Lotor as she pleases. Regardless of any personal feelings, Lance is her friend, and no shitty guy will ever change that.

And then Lotor walks out of the garage with his arm around Allura and a smug smirk on his face. Lance surreptitiously leans forward to listen to their conversation, and gets an earful of blasphemy.

"We're doing amazing work, Allura - we might even revolutionize technology for the entire universe. Maybe even supersede the impact of Voltron," Lotor says, and Lance immediately discards his newfound moral decency. Okay, ethics gone - Allura can play nice with Lotor if she wants, but now it's personal.

Lance cuts into the conversation with a hasty slide, his sneakers squeaking on the garage floor. "Hey Allura, hope it went well breaking barriers of space and time to get into a quintessence field!" Allura rolls her eyes fondly and reaches over to punch him lightly in the shoulder. Lance smiles at her and turns to her companion. "Lotor! Can I talk with you?"

Lotor raises a single eyebrow, but acquiesces. "Certainly Lance. I'm sure Allura and I would love to hear any news you have."

"Ah." His eye twitches. "I meant more like, alone?"

Now it's Allura's turn to frown. "That's fine, I was headed back to my quarters anyways. As long as we're still on for video games tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Allura exits with a wink and a wave and Lance waits until she's completely out of earshot before rounding on the prince.

"Look Lotor, I know what you're up to," Lance points a finger accusingly in Lotor's stupid purple face. "And it's not working."

"And what on earth would that be?"

"You're trying to play nice and get us all buddy-buddy before you stab us in the back. And Allura's going to be the one that gets hurt the most when you finally show your true colors."

Lotor pushes aside his hand in a practiced motion. "While your concern is appreciated, Lance, rest assured, you have nothing to fear. We both care a great deal about the Princess, and I promise, I would never let harm come to her."

Lance crosses his arms. "Good. You better not." He takes a step closer, until he's standing on tiptoe to look Lotor straight in his stupid, shiny eyes. "Because if you hurt her, she'll never forgive you. And none of us will either."

They stare each other down, and before Lotor can blink, Lance has crossed the distance and yanked him down into a kiss.

Lotor is stiff, surprised for a brief second before he softens and leans into the kiss, his mouth loose and lips surprisingly soft under Lance's. Great, he even kisses perfectly. Asshole.

They part for a breath, flushed, and Lotor is the one who restarts it, arm around Lance's waist and fingers curling possessively.

"When will you believe that I've changed, Lance?" he asks between kisses.

"When you prove it," Lance responds as he pulls Lotor deeper.

They only stop when they hear footsteps outside the garage again, Pidge poking her head in the doorway. Lance and Lotor jolt apart, hair still mussed and faces hot.

"Hey you two, has anyone seen a robot about this big? Knife strapped to it, currently going haywire?"

"Can't say I have."
"Nope never not at all."

Pidge either doesn't see the tell-tale signs of a hate make-out session or chooses to ignore them and pulls herself back into the hallway. "Gotcha, thanks! Lemme know if you see it!"

As she leaves, Lance looks at Lotor, who is now steadfastly avoiding his gaze. "Trust me Lance. Okay?"

Lance sighs. "No promises. But I'll try."

That must be good enough for Lotor, because he nods with a wry twist to his mouth, straightens his hair and armor.

Maybe, just maybe, Lotor isn't that bad.
Probably.