Chapter Text
“You’re a little warm.”
Despite Keith’s palm feeling slightly relieving upon his forehead and despite feeling more tired than usual, Lance frowns and weakly swats Keith’s hand from his forehead. “I’m fine.”
Keith’s eyes narrow in a way that could lead to an argument if Lance isn’t careful.
“Did you not just hear what I said?”
“I did,” Lance says against a sigh. “But, I’m fine, Keith. I feel fine.” His gaze is quick to soften at the glimmer of concern coating Keith’s dark eyes. “Keith-”
“For once,” Keith starts, raking a hand through his hair. “For once, can you just rest? I know you want to upload and please your fans, but you don’t know your own limits. I’d feel much better knowing you were resting and not pushing that small fever into something worse.”
In just seconds, an uncomfortable wave of stress has washed over Keith, shown clearly by the prominent frown etched across his lips paired with furrowed brows. It’s enough to have Lance caving with a deep sigh and slumping shoulders. He’s not a fan of skipping uploads, but he can just send out a tweet; he’ll do whatever he needs to relieve the stress and worry from his husband.
“Okay,” he says, voice small for defeat tastes sour along his tongue. “I’ll rest.”
Keith’s lips meet Lance’s forehead, and Lance can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips.
“Thank you,” Keith breathes out, warm breath ghosting across Lance’s forehead.
“Go teach the hooligans,” Lance says back, placing one hand to Keith’s chest to push the latter away. “You’ll be late.”
Nodding, Keith steps away to shoulder his backpack. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
*****
Lance’s phone ringing pulls him from sleep with a quick jerk and a loud gasp. He’s drenched in sweat, shirt uncomfortably plastered to his skin and sheets underneath him damp and sticky. He feels heavy, hazy, like he’s a massive weight sinking underwater. Reaching for his phone is a challenge, but he manages to snag it, not even looking at who’s calling as he presses the phone to his ear.
“Hey,” he rasps out in greeting, frowning at the croak that had been his voice only hours earlier.
“Lance, es tu madre. Tengo una pregunta de seguro rápida. Tu padre y yo nos metimos en un pequeño accidente, y … ”
Accidente?
Lance blinks slowly as his phone slips from his hand and clatters to the floor, his mother’s voice growing faint.
Accident?
He stumbles out of his bed, kicking his phone across the floor as he staggers toward his shoes. His heart is hammering hard against his chest, breaths becoming lost against the rapid thumping, and each step feels as if he’s walking across a rope bridge covered in mud.
He manages to slip two shoes on before he’s turning back to look for his phone. His movements feel slow, unearthly, almost as if he’s watching himself walk and not actually walking. He drops to the floor and pats around until his hand finds his phone, and he presses it to his ear, interrupting his mother with quick, wheezy words.
“Mamá, espera. Tengo que llamar a un Uber. Tengo que ir a Keith.”
He ends the call and dials an Uber with shaking fingers. Keith can help, he thinks. He just has to get to Keith.
*****
By the time the Uber arrives at the school, Lance can’t properly breathe. He feels on the verge of a panic attack, like he’s teetering the edge with unsteady balance. His heart is slamming against his chest and drumming loudly in his ears. There’s a suffocating heat clinging to his skin and bleeding further down to burn his bones, and his throat is dry and tight, feeling almost as if it’s shrinking away to nothing.
He knows he’s crying, if the looks his Uber driver has been giving him are anything to go by, but he can’t feel the tears; they seem to steam off his heated face, or, at least, he thinks. He’s not sure. He’s not sure of anything other than that his mother and father have been in an accident, and he needs Keith.
He stumbles out of the car, tossing his wallet to the driver before staggering up the school steps with choppy, gasping breaths. He ignores the front office, opting instead to move along with his trembling legs straight toward Keith’s classroom.
It’s a struggle; he has to keep one hand braced against the lockers as darkness dots his vision, but he makes it to Keith’s classroom and slams the door open with a wheezing inhale.
He’s not aware of the gasps coming from the students; he’s only aware of Keith racing toward him, and his body holds out just long enough before falling forward into Keith’s arms.
“Lance!”
Lance keeps both hands wrapped tightly around Keith’s arms as he struggles to remain standing. “My parents,” he chokes out against a sob that’s slipped past the knot in his throat. “An accident.”
With each word, he’s fading, as the slow realization that his parents truly were in an accident takes center hold in his racing heart. Darkness creeps at the edges of his vision, and all sounds become muffled. He thinks that, maybe, he hears Keith say something about “burning,” and now there’s yelling. Lance can make out the names Claire and Shiro, but after that?
Nothing.
He’s falling, and his vision goes black.
*****
Lance comes to with an uncomfortable pressure in his arm paired with a faint, yet persistent, beeping sound. His entire body hurts, every single inch of it, but at least he can breathe. Opening his eyes is hard; his eyelids feel like sticky weights, but he manages enough to see Keith breathing out a deep sigh as their gazes lock onto one another.
“You’re awake.” Keith says, voice cracking slightly as he leans forward to cup one of Lance’s hands in own.
Lance’s brain is a puzzle desperately waiting to be pieced together. He frowns and motions weakly to the hospital room with his free hand. “What happened?”
“More like what didn’t happen,” Keith mutters, hands tightening around Lance’s. “You came stumbling into my classroom positively scorching with an insane fever and tell me your parents got into an accident,” Keith pauses as Lance’s eyes go wide. “They’re fine, by the way. Which, you would have known had you listened to everything your mom said on the phone.”
“They’re fine?” Lance’s voice is weak, quiet, and Keith nods.
“Small fender bender. They were just a little confused on some insurance stuff.”
The remaining pressure against Lance’s chest lifts with Keith’s words, and he slumps into his pillow with a deep sigh. “How did I get here, though?” He asks, and Keith breathes out a small, heated laugh that carries no heart with it.
“I’m not finished,” Keith starts. “So, you pass out in front of my entire class. I have to tell my student Claire, who is one of your biggest fans I might add, to get Shiro, and he comes in and says we need to get you to a hospital immediately.”
Keith stops and takes in a large breath before he continues. “Luckily, your Uber driver just so happened to be standing in the hallway with your wallet, that you gave to him, so Shiro carried you out to Uber while I did quick damage control on my class, telling them that yes we are married, not that that matters because they all knew apparently, and telling them no they may not post the videos of you fainting online.”
Lance isn’t sure what the proper reply is, but as it turns out, there’s still more.
“So, I follow the Uber in my car, and when I get here, the Uber driver is kind of freaking out. I have to tell him that the reason you were sobbing and wearing two different shoes is because you’re very sick, 105.2 degree fever I might add. And now, here we are. You’ve been out for a few hours, but your fever’s gone down, and you’ll be released in another hour or so.”
Keith’s face is unreadable. Lance keeps two narrow eyes locked onto it, but he can’t find a crack in the harsh seams. He’s not sure how to approach a response, not with Keith so tense beside him, but Keith, ever-so observant, interrupts his flow of thoughts.
“Don’t apologize. I know you want to. You panicked. I’m just glad you’re okay.” The tension in Keith’s shoulders slumps away until he’s is leaning forward and dropping his forehead to Lance’s hand. “You really scared the hell out of me.”
Lance lifts his free hand to Keith’s head, tangling his fingers into Keith’s hair. “I did try and rest,” he admits, voice light, and Keith laughs, lifting his head to meet Lance’s tired eyes.
“Yeah, well, new plan. I’m staying home anytime you are remotely sick from now on.”
A faint smile plays across Lance’s lips as he nods.
“You know? I kinda like the sound of that.”