The war was over. The Paladins of Voltron could finally rest.

Shiro was living his best life with Curtis. Pidge is doing research at the Galay Garrison. Hunk is traveling the world as a gourmet chef. Lance had settled down with his farm, growing Altean flowers.

You, Keith? You'd led the Blade of Marmora with their humanitarian efforts for a while, but it wasn't what you really wanted was it?

So you handed leadership of the Blade over to better hands, and went home to what you really wanted: Lance.

Because yeah, everyone had seen that coming. You two had been in love with each other since you became Paladins, but apparently it took you both this long to realize it.

The wedding was beautiful. Shiro sobbed like a proud dad. It was great.

And so, you'd moved to live with Lance, your husband, on the farm.

Which brings you to the current domestic scene:

After a long day, Lance had coaxed ~~(read: dragged)~~ you into a cozy bubble bath, water steaming and sudsy foam plush. He'd always been a bit of a self-care diva, and now that you were married he was making sure you got in on it too. Whether you liked it or not.

"C'mere, cariño, let me wash your grody mullet." Lance teases fondly, tugging you closer in the tub and reaching for his probably-too-expensive shampoo, starting to lather up your hair. "I can't believe we're married and you still have this stupid thing." There's zero heat to the jabs - just Lance being Lance.