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Bonding

Summary:

"We did it... We are a good team."

The bonding moment reimagined ft pining Keith.

OR

When Keith said he cradled Lance in his arms he damn well meant he c r a d l e d Lance in his arms.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Lance?”

Keith didn’t know why he offered his hand to the Blue Paladin. Perhaps it was a gesture of camaraderie, maybe he intended to help hoist the boy to his feet. Logic would tell him that it was only a means of assistance, a formal extension of support. His fluttering heart, on the other hand, pounding in his chest as Lance weakly gripped his hand, warm through the fabric of the flight suit and yet giving him goosebumps, told him otherwise.

“Are you okay?”

As their hands locked together, Keith felt himself taking a knee. He might have blamed it on the fact that Lance couldn’t stand on his own, or that he was just getting closer to inspect the extent of his injuries. Keith wasn’t ready to accept that it could have been something else entirely.

An allure that captivated him. A power far stronger than that of his own will, pulling him closer, drawing him in like some spell lay over him. A thrall to his innermost desires.

It’s not like the feeling was exactly new to him, this had started long before being shot into space. Back before Keith had been booted from the Garrison. Keith feigned drawing a blank when Lance showed up to save Shiro, but he remembered well.

From afar he’d steal his sidelong glances. Admiring his slender physique and the sharp structure of his face; set with shimmering cobalt stone eyes and contrasting beautifully against his warm amber skin. His airy laughter was infectious, always bringing Keith a rosy shade across the bridge of his nose, up to his ears, and a tingling sensation in his stomach.

Not to mention the boy’s heart was oh so golden, inlaid with empathy, compassion and a strong sense of loyalty to those he held dear. Sure he could be stubborn; a bit tenacious and turbulent at times. But even the negative attributes of his personality added to the overall appeal of the charming cargo pilot that had enraptured Keith’s heart.

If only they could get past the silly rivalry he had instated. If only, Keith thought, Lance could look upon him with those ethereal eyes and hold an emotion for him more than just scathing contempt or disdain.

Keith saw how he looked at his friends, with a warmth and regard that could melt even the coldest of hearts. He imagined even Zarkon himself couldn’t be immune to it, and the softness of Lance’s smile might even be the key to winning the war.

If only, he thought facetiously.

The truth was he’d give anything to be gazed upon like that.

Sure, Shiro looked at him like that from time to time, but Shiro didn’t count. Shiro was like his brother, and the looks of fondness between them were fraternally affectionate. Keen bonds ran between them. But it wasn’t the same.

Nobody else's smiles left him with the butterflies in his stomach that he associated with Lance’s smiles. Nobody else could set fire to his skin like Lance’s lighthearted laughter. Nobody else could ever make him feel so confused and sure of himself at the same time. Nobody could ever leave him wanting quite like Lance could.

Lance pushed himself forward and pulled a leg under him, leaning on one knee, mirroring Keith. Their hands were still joined, clasped together in a gentle hold between them. Keith watched as Lance steadied himself and licked his lips before speaking. The butterflies had taken flight.

“We did it.” he said, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. Their eyes met, and Keith felt his breath hitch at the tenderness with which they peered at him. And when Lance turned to him, his heart nearly leapt out of his throat.

“We are a good team.” he finished. His expression visibly lifted, his brows came together slightly and his lips curved upward even more. Keith could feel Lance give his hand a squeeze and suddenly the butterflies in his stomach were a whirlwind, much like his emotions.

He wanted to cry, eyes glistening over, finally receiving that affection he had been so starved for from the one person he wanted it from the most. He wanted to cry and smile and laugh and never let go of Lance’s hand. He wanted to be closer and most of all, he wanted to lean forward and press his lips against Lance’s and feel just how soft he could really be.

That might be a bit too forward of him, he thought, so he settled for giving him his own smile, matching the warmth.

Their eyes bore into each others’. Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t lost in the sea of stormy waves, dragging him down into the depths of his irises where he would be all too happy to drown. He liked to imagine Lance was having a similar experience, even if Keith knew better, he wanted to feel like these emotions consuming him weren’t completely one-sided.

Then Lance blinked, and suddenly the light was gone. Keith started and went to grab him as he pitched forward, his body going limp in Keith’s arms.

“Lance?” Keith muttered, gently easing the boy backwards to lay in his lap. His hand went to the back of Lance’s head to support it as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Lance!” he called again.

No response.

Worry flooded his senses, and it was only the rise and fall of Lance’s chest, indicating he was still breathing, that kept Keith from the brink of panic.

Even in this state, dirty and injured, his head turned slightly inward towards him with a peaceful, sleeping beauty expression, Lance was positively angelic.

Keith reached up and tentatively brushed the backs of his fingers across the expanse of skin on Lance’s cheek, then threaded them through his dark hair indulgently, coercing the unruly locks away from his face.

As much as he wanted to stay like this, and hold this wild, reckless, rowdy boy in his arms until he woke, he knew he couldn’t. Lance would need the attention of a healing pod if he hoped to make a recovery.

So Keith signalled to Shiro for help, and they hoisted him up, arms slung around their necks, and carted him off the infirmary to be patched up.

Once Lance was fitted in the podsuit and propped up in the cryopod, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief they hadn’t known they’d been holding. Concerns about Lance had taken a backseat while the castle had been under siege, but once the threat was neutralized, they were front and center once again. At least for Keith.

Idiot. What was he thinking?

Thinking about saving Coran, that’s what he was thinking. Throwing himself in front of the blast, sacrificing himself and his well-being for someone else. Throwing caution to the wind when it comes to those whom he holds dear.

So does the boy with the gilded heart. Selfless and noble.

Coran had been shaken up by his actions. Without the burden of Balmeran Crystals and the anxiety of the security and integrity of the castle weighing on his shoulders, he was finally able to absorb what had transpired.

No doubt everyone in the room was reflecting on Lance’s actions. Keith imagined Allura would be deeply gracious to him, and everyone else surely was grateful as well. But he wondered if anyone had even entertained the thought that Lance’s actions held a deeper implication than that of sheer fortitude.

It was no secret Lance was jealous of Keith. Always comparing himself, selling himself that he was, in fact, just as good (if not better) than the mighty Keith. Lance would never admit it. But everybody knew. The evidence was there in the redundant rivalry he insisted on upholding.

But could that have deeper implications as well?

Keith was jarred from his thoughts by a hand clasped firmly on his shoulder. He looked up to be met with Shiro’s tired eyes. The weariness of his expression and white shock of hair really brought out his age, even making him appear older than he actually was.

“Come on, you should get some sleep. It’s been a long night.” he suggested with a smile.

Keith glanced back to the lanky boy in the pod, his expression neutral, still as a statue. Only the soft beep of the monitor gave any sign that life lay inside.

Keith frowned, his lips set in a thin line. “What about Lance?” he asked.

“Not to worry, my boy,” Coran answered. “Number 3 will be just fine. A couple vargas in the ole cryogenic healing chamber and he’ll be right as water falling from the sky.”

“You mean rain?” Pidge asked.

“Yes, that’s it!” Coran said cheerily. “Though on Altea we used to call it Gargnash, which means death from above!”

Keith tuned them out and threw a concerned look back at Shiro.

A few hours. Someone needed to stay. What if he came out early and fell flat on his face? What if he thought they were all dead? What if something went wrong inside the pod and he needed to eject him??

Shiro smiled kindly at Keith, soothing some of his worries. He was being irrational. Everything would be fine. Allura and Coran swore by Altean technology, no matter how ancient or eerily magical or not exactly built for humans it was. It would be fine.

But he was still staying.

“I’ll go get you some blankets.” Shiro said before disappearing from the infirmary.

Everyone else shuffled out as well, even Hunk. Though he did hesitate in the doorway, throwing a concerned glance over his shoulder at his friend in the pod, before making his way to his room to catch some sleep as well.

Shiro returned with the blankets and Keith made himself comfortable at the base of the pod, leaning his back and head against it.

He was determined not to sleep, too afraid that Lance would be ejected while he dozed. He wanted to be there to catch him, like Lance had been there for Allura when she had fallen out of her pod when they first met. It had been awkward for the two of them. Maybe it wouldn’t be for him and Lance.

Maybe this had been a turning point in their relationship. Maybe they could set aside this asinine rivalry and be friends. Maybe they could grow closer and form keen bonds of their own. Different bonds. Intimate bonds.

Cobwebs filled his head as his eyes began to creep shut, growing heavier and heavier but the tick. He fought off sleep valiantly, but his weariness won out over his will, and sleep overtook him anyway.

His last thoughts were of tender smiles on soft lips and pretty cobalt eyes, warm amber skin, soft and smooth to the touch, and luxurious raw umber locks threaded through his fingers. Words both spoken and unspoken haunted his dreams. A light, playful laugh echoed on the edges of his consciousness.

Under better circumstances he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to fall victim to Lance’s bewitching charms again; Hoping, madly, that he would. And yearning, desperately, for future bonding moments to come.

Notes:

Hello, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave me a comment here or come find me on tumblr @tryforce