Chapter Text
“Lance…” he breathes out, the word barely loud enough to register. Gaining a bit of courage, he raises his eyes a bit to watch keith's face through his bangs. A flurry of emotions are passing over his features, making it difficult for lance to interpret his thoughts. There's a dark purple blush hovering on his cheeks, and while that feels like a good sign the sad and almost tearful look in his eye keeps him from getting his hopes up too high. “Lance,” he says again, this time a bit firmer, and the steeled look and determined set of his jaw tell him that keith has finally come to some sort of answer. Keith looks directly into his eyes for the first time since he’d accidentally confessed to him and says “ Lance, I am flattered that you feel this way but I cannot return your feelings.”
Which, ouch. Ok, he knew that there was a good possibility of this happening, after all he was often turned down by the numerous people he’d flirt with, but this was different. He had no doubt in his mind that after the weeks and weeks of talking with and getting to know more about this incredible person that he had, quite without meaning to, fallen head over heels for his handsome and dependable bodyguard. Which is probably why he felt like his heart was being crushed by the universe itself when he’d heard those words.
It must have been showing on his face, because keith's eyes seemed to go wide as he helplessly offered a soft and remorseful “sorry” before hastily looking away. Lance’s head and heart felt like they were splitting open. While he was not tired and had absolutely no desire to go to sleep, he was suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to be alone. At this point he was barely holding back his tears, and only just managed to stutter out an answer to keith's reply.
“O-oh, well um, thank you then. F-for your honesty. I actually feel very tired now, could you please l-leave?” His eyes were seriously watering, and any moment now the tears would start to fall, but still he managed one last look at the man who had completely stolen his heart. The emotion on keith's face was one that in his current state he wasn’t able to decipher, but with a curt nod Keith rose from his position at Lances bedside and exited the room, no doubt still there just on the other side of the door, diligent as always.
With keith no longer in the room, Lance turned himself onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillows, finally allowing the tears to shed. Sobs began to shake his body, silent at first but slowly gaining volume. He pressed his face further into the pillows, hoping desperately to smother the noises, lest keith hear him. That night found him sobbing and crying his broken heart out long into the night, falling asleep with tears still streaming down his red and puffy face.
The days following his failed confession were probably the most awkward and uncomfortable in his life. He could no longer bring himself to look at Keith, and their nightly talks had completely stopped. He felt more like a walking corpse than a prince, barely able to make it through the day without falling apart. He often found himself thinking back on that night and morosely wishing that he’d just kept his big mouth shut. He wished he could just forget it, let things go back to the way they were. Because as much as he was heartbroken and embarrassed, the hardest part of all of this wasn’t the rejection but rather that he could no longer talk to Keith. He found himself constantly wondering how he could fix this, how he could bring back the easy banter and light talks and deep moments shared in the dead of night. Even though Keith was around him just as much as he’d always been he felt impossibly far away, existing outside of Lance’s reach.
Because his brain apparently liked to torment him, at night during the time he’d usually be speaking with keith he found himself reliving that night over and over, analysing every detail of that conversion. While he wished more than ever that he could stop these thoughts, because they were doing a serious number on his health, eventually he found himself noticing something a bit off about that night. At first he thought it was wishful thinking, just his pining heart desperate for anything solid it could grasp onto. But the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that there was something more.
At the time he’d barely been able to look at Keith, too embarrassed to hold eye contact for too long. But the more he looked back the more he was sure that right after his confession, for a split moment before he’d looked away he thought Keith had look happy. And hadn't he been blushing something fierce the entire time? The more he thought and thought and thought about it the more everything didn’t add up. Leading up to the confession he’d been absolutely sure that there was something building between them, and during the sleepless nights as he analysed that night he felt more and more sure that Keith reciprocated his feelings.
So then why had he rejected him?
After almost a full month of avoiding his bodyguard like the plague, Lance was finally ready to face him, intent on getting some proper answers. Decision made, he went through the rest of that day giddy and nervous, anxiously awaiting nightfall so that he could confront his bodyguard in the guaranteed privacy of his bedchambers. That night, after he’d prepared himself for bed and was climbing into his sheets he called out to the person he’d been actively avoiding yet longing to speak to for so long now. “Keith,” he said, “ could you come over here for a while? I’d like to talk with you.” He was incredibly proud of himself that he’d managed to keep the quiver out of his voice.
He watched Keith approach. He looked apprehensive, but Lance was also sure that in his eyes he also saw a bit of excitement and relief, which only served to embolden him further. “I’d like to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, anything” Keith had replied, moving into his usual spot with what looked like a bit of a nervous jitter. Luckily, Lance had actually thought this through, and so he knew what he wanted to say to Keith.
“How do you actually feel about me?” he inquired softly, a bundle of nerves nearly choking him but still managing to keep eye contact. He was glad he did because this time he didn’t miss the way the dark blush spread across his face or how his eyes widened in surprise.
“Wh-what?” he asked a bit breathlessly, clearly taken off guard by Lances question. Steeling his nerves, he said what he’d been wanting to say all day to Keith.
“I’ve been thinking about that night non-stop, and the more I think of it the more I don’t believe you turned me down because of your own lack of feeling, but if I ask why you turned me down you may make some excuse about it not being appropriate for people in our position. So instead I’ll ask you this; how do you feel about me? About my confessing to you? Even if you think it doesn’t matter I need to know what you’re really feeling right now.”
Having thought the words all day he had felt confident, but now that he’d spoken them aloud he suddenly wondered if this was really a smart idea. Keith, for his part, seemed to have been completely frozen by shock. No doubt he hadn’t been expecting this to be the first thing Lance said to him after months of complete radio silence. But Lance really did need to know how Keith felt. His own sister had voiced worries about a relationship with his bodyguard, and Keith took his job very seriously. No doubt, if he reciprocated Lance’s feelings, he had considered the same things as her.
If that was the case then Lance would simply have to convince him otherwise. Because if this month had taught him anything it was that he certainly wasn’t going to be getting over these feelings any time soon, and maybe he never would. So he would be damned if he let the probable love of his life slip through his fingers just because of things like social status and propriety.
Lance was brought out of his thoughts when Keith deeply inhaled. Eye’s flashing to his face, Lance carefully watched as Keith opened his eyes to look at him. He seemed resigned, and looking deeper Lance would swear up and down that he even looked a bit bashful, or perhaps maybe a touch shy. When he began to speak, Lance hung on his every word. “Lance,” He started, “Lance I…”