Chapter Text
Lance had a bad day.
He’s quiet when he comes through the front door. So quiet, that Keith barely hears him enter at all, save the light click of their apartment door as it locks shut.
“Lance, that you?” Keith calls from where he sits in the living room, turning the TV off and shifting his attention to the quiet shuffling he can now hear from around the corner. After a few moments of silence, he calls his name again. When Lance still doesn’t answer, Keith gets up.
Keith hesitantly turns into their front hallway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he peeks around the corner. He’s greeted to a view of Lance with his elbow and forearm propped against the wall, steadying himself as he slides off his dress shoes.
“Lance?”
Lance starts, reaction delayed. He looks up slowly, meeting Keith’s eyes with a small smile. “Oh, hey babe.” Keith’s brow furrows when the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
He watches him for a few moments as Lance finishes taking off his shoes, and as he fumbles with his blazer before hanging it on one of the hooks against the wall. His actions are slow and muddled, free of his usual vigor, as if he’s trying to navigate through a thick fog. He spends about a minute looking for his briefcase, which he left right next to the door, before loosening his tie with a finger and letting out a deep, weighted sigh.
Keith clicks his tongue, having seen enough. He quickly turns on his heel, leaving Lance at his back and walking decidedly down the hallway toward the bathroom.
---
Although the sound of the bath filling is loud, Keith knows that Lance won’t notice what he’s up to given the state he’s in. As it fills, he pours in a combination of bubbles, scented oils, and bath bombs that he always thought was a little much, but he knows Lance loves. When the tub is full and the room smells like a Bath and Body Works threw up in their en suite, he nods and stalks into their bedroom where he knows he’ll find Lance.
“Naked.” From where he’s seated on the edge of their bed, Lance looks up slowly with a quirked brow.
“Wha-“
“Now.”
Lance stares at him for a few moments, confusion evident in his expression. When Keith’s hard gaze doesn’t relent, he stands up with a light sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. Something that Lance has learned over the years is that sometimes, it really is easier just to trust him.
As Lance begins to undo his dress shirt with awkward, clumsy fingers, Keith’s face softens. He walks over to his boyfriend and gently removes Lance’s hands from his shirt buttons, squeezing them once to soothe him as he jumps in surprise at the sudden contact.
“Just let me take care of you, okay?” Keith meets Lance’s eyes, and, maintaining eye contact, places a kiss to each delicate set of his curved fingertips in succession.
“Okay.” Lance’s voice is barely above a whisper, but Keith can feel his answer in the breath against his skin. He responds with a soft smile, lightly guiding Lance’s hands to his sides before letting them go. Quickly, he begins to unbutton his blouse with deft fingers, and they finish undressing him in a comfortable silence.
Almost.
Lance is barely finished kicking off his underwear before Keith is already scooping him up and into his arms, and for the first time since coming home, Lance’s face animates.
“Keith?!” He squeaks out, face blushing in patches starting at his collarbones and spreading to his cheeks. Keith is smaller than him in a lot of ways, but not any less strong – something that Lance tends to forget.
Keith says nothing, choosing instead to turn around and carry Lance bridal style across their bedroom floor. When they reach the bathroom, Keith prods the door open with the ball of his foot, and doesn’t set Lance down until they reach the side of the tub. He lowers him into the warm water so gently, as if handling something fragile, that it sends a shiver up Lance’s spine.
Before he’s even fully registered the environment change, Keith’s already stripped and climbing into the tub behind him.
“Keith? You don’t have to-“ He’s cut off when Keith places both hands firm against his waist, pulling him backward until he’s between his legs and his back is against his chest.
“Shh,” Keith breathes out, so close now that Lance can feel it against the shell of his ear. “I told you to let me take care of you.” Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s chest and squeezes, placing a light kiss to the back of his shoulder.
He keeps planting kisses against Lance’s warm skin; his shoulder blades, the back of his neck, the underside of his ear; until Lance finally relaxes into his touch. Keith lets out a contented hum when Lance gives, nuzzling playfully into his soft brown hair and hugging him tighter.
By now, Keith knows Lance like the back of his hand. When he’s upset, much to Keith’s chagrin, he has an awful habit of retreating into himself to avoid burdening the people around him. By choosing to be quiet, Lance thinks he does a good job at hiding how he really feels. But to Keith, who’s used to seeing Lance light up every room he enters, the fact that something is wrong is all the more obvious.
Keith used to get frustrated with him for not opening up, but that frustration quickly faded into a soft sort of affection that only Lance could inspire as he came to understand him more. After holding the team together for so long during their Voltron days, it’s a habit that Lance just can’t help. So instead, when Lance comes home uncharacteristically quiet after a long day, Keith chooses to shower him in affection until he feels ready to come out of his shell on his own. Keith had never been any good at comforting people before, but for Lance, he’d quickly learned how. To him, learning to be soft was a small, simple task for the boy he’d gladly give the world to.
So he keeps Lance close as he washes his hair for him, his body. He spends extra time kneading at his scalp, listening to Lance as he slowly begins to recount his day. When he’s squeaky clean, Keith massages his shoulders until Lance is a puddle against his stomach. With Lance lying content and warm against his chest, he can’t help but wrap his arms around him once again, planting soapy kisses to his flushed cheeks. When Lance dips his fingers into the water, gathers a handful of bubbles and blows them through a soft, contented giggle, Keith’s heart nearly melts. All it takes is a single, playful pout for Keith to give in and let Lance paint a bubble mustache under his nose.
When the water begins to cool down, they finally get out of the tub. Keith quickly grabs a fluffy towel and wraps it snug around Lance, content to simply hug his warm, burrito boyfriend instead of drying off himself. Lance wiggles in his grasp until his arms are free, using the edges of the towel the dry and ruffle Keith’s hair. Keith protests, but freezes when he hears Lance speak.
“Keith?” Lance’s voice is warm and sweet, like melted honey. Keith looks up to meet his eyes, and Lance, with his hands still holding Keith’s messy hair against his cheeks, plants a soft kiss against his nose. “Thank you.”