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Their lips brush in a rush of feathering warmth that lasts for mere seconds. When they part, Lance is staring through a hooded gaze and Keith can feel his own heart race.
“I wanna kiss you again...”
Keith prepares himself through his hazy mind, yet this time the touch doesn’t come. Lance only smiles and says, “thank you for listening to me, man. I really needed that. I’m gonna crash, but I’ll see you in the morning?”
“I, uh, y-yeah. Sure.”
“Great! Night,” and Lance winks, stands up, and fucking leaves.
When Keith collapses in his bed, he’s left replaying the day’s events. Lance, seeking comfort, requesting advice; Keith opening up unexpectedly, spilling out his own insecurities. They had spent hours together in easy banter -- hours -- and they had undoubtedly closed what was left of the gap between them.
But why had Lance kissed him? And why did he easily respond, without a single hint of embarrassment?
Keith throws his pillow over his face and groans directly into the feathers. He’s not going to sleep tonight, is he? Think about something else, he scolds himself, and naturally, it’s futile. In the dimly lit room, side by side on the edge of Keith’s bed, Lance had enveloped him in an embrace and --
“Stop!” His voice echoes against the emptiness.
Fine, alright, so if he can’t stop replaying, maybe he can determine how to proceed. Keith knows he’s not going to bring that moment up, so if Lance chooses the same, then it’ll become an Unspoken Thing. An Unspoken Thing That Happened. That sounds suspiciously like weight on his shoulders. Sure, Keith can keep it to himself -- privacy is a treasure -- but he’ll be uncomfortable around Lance for-literally-ever. What if he can’t take the emotions and he blurts it out one day in pent up rage? Oh, just imagine if the rest of the team found out?
Keith groans louder.
Why had Lance said he wanted to kiss him again? And why hadn’t he? It had felt familiar to Keith, not the heart-quivering desperation that he’d always pictured. It had been better, easier, and filling in a way he hadn’t ever experienced.
The brush of a butterfly’s wings in the pit of his stomach causes him to lurch forward, sitting up in his bed with his blankets pooled around his hips. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dam--
He’s startled by a knock-knock-knocking on his door. He idly wonders what time it must be as he drags his feet to the door to see -- oh, shit, it’s Lance again.
Forcibly sobered, the kindling fire fades to an ember.
Keith frowns at his visitor.
“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you. I couldn’t sleep.” Lance does that thing that he does where he’s quite clearly hyper-aware of his own limbs. (Awkward.) “Can we talk?”
“What? But we just talked about an hour ago.”
“Please, Keith?”
Keith rolls his eyes and steps aside. Lance passes him and plops right back down on the mattress and Keith, in a fit of irritation, wonders why the fuck Lance even left in the first place.
“That kiss,” Lance starts without prompting and Keith isn’t sure how to feel. Relieved? Frustrated? Curious?
He settles on annoyance.
“I didn’t... I mean, I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t think, like, it was...” Lance stares at the floor. “Okay, listen. That kiss: did it feel like, I don’t know, more to you?”
Keith’s brows furrow. “What?”
Lance’s expression grows defensive. “Like there was a spark or something? I don’t know!” Keith’s silence seems to drive Lance further. “It felt like there was something there, and it’s been bothering me since it happened. So, did you feel it, too, or not?”
Was there not supposed to be emotion in a kiss? Keith is sincerely confused as he reaches up to smooth his hair. “I guess?”
Lance balks. “You guess? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“What am I supposed to say? Did I ‘feel something?’ I don’t even know what that means!”
Lance rises. “For fuck’s sake, Keith! Do you like me or not?”
“Of course I like you!”
Silence falls as the weight of those words settle. Keith falters first, folding his arms across his chest. He swallows a rush of embarrassment and can’t find the courage to meet Lance’s eyes.
“So you did feel it,” but there’s something in the cadence of Lance’s voice that sounds suspiciously sly. He’s moving closer -- Keith steals a glance and Lance is smirking -- to sling an arm around Keith’s shoulders. Lance is leaning closer to him now, grinning in a gleam of enamel, and to his shame, Keith can feel the heat on his own cheeks.
Then, Lance does the unthinkable --
“Fallen for the old Lance charm, have you?”
-- he gloats.
“I knew you’d come around sooner or later. They all do. What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
Keith forces out, “holy shit, get away from me,” and Lance laughs loudly.
“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that. Let me just have this.” He’s smiling much more softly, yet he steps back and allows Keith his space. (Keith finds himself missing Lance’s touch instantly.) “Man, I can’t believe you actually like me.”
How can Lance be so confident? Keith thinks he feels sweat forming on his palms and he might possibly go into cardiac arrest.
“So, Keith,” Lance clears his throat. “Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”
“Is...what? I...”
“Hm?”
“I mean, is that how it works?”
“Huh?” Lance tips his head. “Why wouldn’t it work that way?”
“Isn’t it supposed to build up or...” Keith trails off, catching sight of amusement on Lance’s face. He snaps a quick, “what’s so funny?”
“Why would it need to build? We’ve been in space for a long time together; we know each other really well, right? What else is there?”
Keith is at a loss.
“Hey, for the record, you don’t have to be my boyfriend,” Lance is saying then. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can respect that. We can take it slower, maybeee see where it goes, and who knows? Or, if you’re not into that idea, we really don’t have to do anything. Whatever you want, I’m down, my man.”
“Wait, no.” Keith raises a hand. “I’ve never... I’ve never had this problem before--”
“Problem?”
“--so I’m not sure what t -- yes, Lance, problem.” Keith releases a frustrated huff. “I do like you. That’s the problem.”
Lance recoils. Ouch. “Why?”
“Because! Because, Lance, I don’t like people!”
“Okay, calm down. Do you wanna just think about it? We don’t have to figure this out right now.”
“Yes, we do! I don’t want to agonize over this!”
Keith knows he must look like he’s being dramatic, but part of him is terrified. He wants the warmth that Lance is offering, god, does he, but there’s so much uncertainty that he isn’t sure what option would make him most comfortable. Lance, for his part, is clearly being as patient as he can, but the expression he bears speaks volumes for the hurt he’s experiencing.
“I’m sorry,” Keith says when he’s able to breathe. “I’m just...”
“It’s okay.” Lance works up a smile. “Can I make a suggestion, buddy? Let’s not give this a name and I’ll let you take the lead? I’m really happy that you like me but I don’t want you to”--be scared--“worry. I can wait.”
“I don’t think I can lead this,” he answers softly.
Lance nods, reaching a hand out to rest his palm on Keith’s shoulder. “Whatever you want.”
“What about what you want?”
Another smile brushes Lance’s lips, although this one reaches his eyes. “I mean it when I say that I’m cool with whatever.”
“That’s...” Keith exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s really nice of you.”
“We’re a team, right?”
His gaze trails to Lance’s hand before he smiles gently. “Right.”
“Then we’ll figure this out.”
Their eyes meet and Keith feels the waking stir of that butterfly. “Thank you, Lance.”
“You’re welcome,” Lance answers, voice a gentle comfort through emotional exhaustion.
A new temporary silence falls. It’s familiar, affable, and neither hurries to disturb the warmth between them. No, it’s quiet as Lance steps closer to fill the gap between, and it’s quiet when Keith feels their faces draw nearer.
It’s only broken when Lance whispers, “can I kiss you again?”
Keith chooses not to respond with words. He tips his chin closer, eyes falling shut, and the heat of Lance’s lips is enough for now.
This is all he wants.