What if Lance can’t dance?
Don’t get me wrong, I love the headcanon that the boy has hips that speak only truth, but have we considered the opposite?
What if Lance is a horrible dancer?
Lance with legs that encompass nearly his whole body.
Lance with zero coordination when it comes to finding a rhythm within a tune.
Lance who flails about regardless of the song and ignorant to how absolutely ridiculous he looks because he loves the beat and doesn’t care what the others think.
Gimme leggy boy Lance doing the Macarena at half speed during slow songs because that’s all he knows.
Or partaking in the classics like the Sprinkler and the Shopping Cart. Not to mention the infamous peace signs over the eyes,
(or the Chicken Dance).
And to top it off, maybe Keith is the one who knows how to dance.
Keith who was taught the steps for ballroom and is well rehearsed in the ways of the Waltz.
Maybe he learned from one of his foster parents in his childhood, and practiced with old mops and brooms in his free time at the shack.
I want Keith the amazing dancer, with meticulous timing and careful footing; soft hands that guide his partner around the floor effortlessly.
Which is good, because Lance is absolutely hopeless to teach.
“Just focus on the footing Lance.”
“I’m trying! How does it go again?”
But no matter how many times Keith repeats the pattern, Lance doesn’t get it.
It’s when he’s had his foot stomped on for the fourth time in the last ten minutes that Keith finally insists Lance just take off his shoes and place his feet on top of Keith’s so he can teach him without further incident.
With Lance already taller than Keith, the added height of standing on Keith’s boots has the Blue paladin clinging closer to keep his balance as they dance around the room. And Keith’s hands, of course, can no longer maintain the traditional ballroom pose, and slip around to hold Lance’s middle instead, drawing the two even closer.
They end up just swaying gently back and forth while the Altean music Allura supplied chimes peacefully in the background.
And…nice, though they’re both too shy to admit it.
So yes, Lance can’t dance.
But standing socked footed in Keith’s arms with soft hands on his back? Feeling warm breaths of air near his neck each time Keith laughs?
That he can handle.