Work Text:
This has not been a good day for Keith.
Keith was a cool, well-composed young man. That’s what he liked to think of himself as, at least. He knew how to handle things without making a fit. Though there are some matters that tend to make him into a complete mess.
He was dating the famous Lance McClain, a cheerful, handsome, social butterfly who was good at smooth-talking the ladies. People liked him for his charisma, his charms, he guesses. Quite the opposite of him, really. He’d heard from Lance that his friends thought he was ‘beautiful’, something that the Cuban enthusiastically agreed with.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Keith had said to him with a frown, ‘It’s obviously you who’s beautiful.’ He remembers his face flushing a bit due to throwing out a compliment so casually. It was worth the embarrassment just to see his lover’s face brighten up, the color red spreading across his soft freckled face. Keith loved his freckles despite the other being a bit self-conscious about it.
He loved how both of them supported each other when one of them is down. He’s glad he had Lance’s warmth. Or in some other case, his cold-blooded temperature, which you could almost mistake him for a freezer because he’s somehow always cold and Keith sometimes has to check his pulse to see if he’s dead or not. He’s just glad he had Lance.
They were okay. Their relationship has been going well.
So what’s so wrong about this that’s enough to turn Keith into a hyperventilating, shaky mess?
‘Probably everything that’s about to fuck his ass,’ his pessimistic sorry ass would say if only he wasn’t busy burying himself in his bed with at least 2 blankets to rid all the hurtful thoughts in his head. The loud blast in his earphones didn’t seem to help at all either.
His chest hurts and he couldn’t breathe, almost as if the oxygen is slowly leaving his entire system. His mind in a state of panic. He vaguely wonders if he’s going to die like this.
He could feel the non-stop vibration of his phone being filled with messages and missed calls. It was most probably Lance because they had a plan to meet up at the nearest library to finish their upcoming report and also because he had to help Lance with his chemistry homework.
He felt bad for making him wait. He felt bad, but what was he supposed to do? Just get up from his bed, show up in his face and act as if there was nothing wrong? That would just make him worried and Keith didn’t like making Lance listen to another round of his rants over and over again, even though the Cuban boy would just encourage him to go on and ‘let go of the negativities to never feel those feelies’. He felt like he was the worst boyfriend that ever existed. If not the worse, maybe a terrible boyfriend. He was supposed to make his boyfriend happy in return. It just feels like he doesn’t give enough credit to Lance. It was downright stupid of him to think like this, he knew that.
He removes an earplug from his one ear. He hears the ringtone of his phone much louder now.
‘Just ignore it. He’s probably mad at you right now because you’re being an asshole for making him worry and now he thinks you’re insufferable and he’ll end up breaking with you someday because who’d want to put up with that shitty attitude of yours?’ his dumbass brain tells him. Thoughts that seeped in like poison through him.
“Shut up,” he grits to himself, eyes closed shut as a way to block everything from him.
‘Plus, there are plenty of people in the world who’s far better off with him.’
“Shut the fuck up,” he chokes out as he buries himself deeper into the soft covers of his bed.
What am I supposed to do? What should I do? I can’t let him know about this. I don’t want to bother him again. What if he begins to think I’m annoying? I mean, I already find myself annoying but what if? But no, that’s Lance. Lance wouldn’t hate me. Probably. Who knows. What if he’s just forced to put up with me because I’m such an overbearing asshole? Oh god, am I overbearing? What if I’m just manipulating him into liking me? What if he’s actually sick of me and is just sticking around with me because he pities me—
A loud bang from downstairs startles him from his thoughts. He evens his breathing as an attempt to not let him have a heart attack.
‘Now what? Lance is probably disappointed in me, I’m here feeling like a total jackass, and now someone wants to murder me? Fan-fuckin’-tastic,’ Keith grimly thinks to himself and lets out a tired sigh.
His eyes lit up when he hears the familiar high-pitched screech of his name.
He hastily sits up and looks at his door with suspicion, the blankets still comfortably wrapped around him. The quick thumping of footsteps were getting more audible and to Keith’s surprise, he wasn’t panicking like usual, most likely knowing who he was expecting.
His bedroom door slammed open revealing a wide-eyed tanned boy, his face and hair slightly soaked with sweat and chest breathing heavily to which Keith guesses he must’ve really ran on his way here.
“KEITH!!,” his lover tackles him down in a tight hug, his lanky but slightly muscled arms wrapping around Keith’s blanket-covered self. He honestly didn’t know what to do in this situation. Should he hug him back? Should he cry because he’s here? Maybe he shouldn’t do anything?
He could feel Lance sob into his shoulder…maybe he should say something?
“Lance, I— “
“Don’t you know how worried I was?!,” the taller boy screams, hurt eyes looking up at Keith’s conflicted expression. Christ, he felt awful.
“Yeah…,” he glances over at his cellphone laying on the study table, “Sorry.”
‘Just a simple sorry wouldn’t cut it, dickwad,’ he angrily thought to himself. There are a lot of things that he wanted to apologize for but he didn’t know if this was the right time to pour out all of the awful things he’s been bottling up lately.
“Keith, look at me.”
He doesn’t. He’s too scared. Ashamed even.
“Keith, honey. Please?”
He’s too scared of the gentle tone of his voice. Who knows when that voice will change.
Lance lightly touches his chest right where his heart is, careful enough to not scare him away. “Your heart’s beating too fast,” he says more to himself than to Keith.
“It’s going to be alright,” he gently gives the raven-haired boy a kiss on the forehead, “I’m here,” a kiss on the nose, “I’ll always be here for you. I’m not breaking that promise,” lastly, a kiss on the cheek.
“I know,” Keith quietly says. “I’m sorry, really.” For being like this. “...for not answering your calls and messages,” he says instead.
“I wasn’t even mad at you because of that in the first place,” Lance leans Keith’s head into his chest and now he pretty much finds his boyfriend’s chest much more comfortable than his bundle of blankets. “…want to talk about it?”
“No,” he nuzzles his face onto his neck, inhaling the mixed scent of the ocean, cinnamon and sweat, “It’s…fine.” He bites his tongue as he lies.
“Your heartbeat says otherwise.”
Keith groans, knowing he wouldn’t stop until he speaks up. He couldn’t let him know about this. Their current soft and intimate touching, hair petting, their closeness and so on. He didn’t want any of that to end.
“Keith…,” the hands caressing his face were calloused from the amount of sewing he does. Just his presence alone does a lot to calm him down. It felt nice hearing Lance’s smooth voice again. He could practically sleep to the sound of his voice. In fact, that’s exactly what he’s going to do right now.
“Your eyes…,” the freckled boy began, “They looked like they were pleading for help this time.” He switched from playing with shorter male’s dark locks to rubbing small circles on his back as a way to comfort him. “I mean, I’m not telling you to force yourself to tell me what’s wrong it’s just— ,” he sighs and his fingers were put to a stop, “I-I just want you to be more open with me. Be comfortable with me.”
His thick well-shaped eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But I am comfortable with you.”
He could totally feel Lance pout and looking all dejected.
“I don’t mean the ‘let’s sleep together on the bed the whole day’ or the ‘let’s go to Hunk’s house and make sex noises in his room as a prank’ kind of comfortable. I meant the ‘let’s be intimate and tell each other our secrets for hours’ kind of comfortable because we trust each other, yeah?”
There was a pause.
“Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” amusement lingered in his voice.
Either he meant the whole sleeping together idea, or the prank or us being intimate telling each other secrets, Keith will never know.
“Anyway, you get what I’m saying?”
“I guess I do.”
“You can’t say ‘I guess’! You have to be sure. C’mon. Here. Look up at me.”
Keith wasn’t sure why he did. But he just did. And he was glad he did. Those dark blue eyes that always reminded him of the ocean were to die for.
“Can you still breathe properly?”
“I’m trying.”
“Breathe with me, babe, c’mon. Inhaaaale.”
“It’s fine, Lance, I can manage.”
Lance gives him a skeptical look, wanting to protest to his stubborn reply but lets it go anyway.
“I swear, I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand your non-stop crying in front of my grave anyway.”
“I’m gonna keep crying just to spite you,” is what Lance says but he was smiling. “And don’t joke about your death! It’s not funny.” He lightly smacks Keith’s left cheek but Keith just laughs softly at the contact.
A wave of silence ensues. The two of them just looking into each other’s eyes, arms tangled in each other’s embrace. It felt nice.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“I do, Lance, I do.”
“Then…won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?,” there wasn’t any bite in his voice. A part of him felt relief, but he was still scared. Not that he had any plan admitting it to him at any moment now.
…Ugh, fuck it. Stop being a pussy, Keith. It’s now or never.
“…..was scared..,” he whispers inaudibly. He could feel his hands fidgeting uncomfortably but Lance’s cold ones were there to hold onto them. He clears his throat and repeats himself, “I was scared.”
“Of what exactly?”
“I…,” he gulps and feels a trail of sweat trickle down his neck, “I don’t want to lose you.”
Lance chuckles, “Same here.”
“I’m scared that you’ll someday get tired of me,” he continues, ignoring the now dumbfounded look on the Cuban boy’s face. Keith knows he's not making any sense right this moment but he still kept going, “I keep thinking that you’re probably sick of me by now. About how there’s a lot of girls who’s after you because holy shit Lance have you taken a good look at yourself? You’re attractive as hell and you give off the kind of vibes that make people wanna hang out with you and now that I’m dating you they must want my head off for taking you away from them and I’m sorry ‘bout that also I’m probably not making any sense right now but none of that matters anyway because I’m such a huge mess and people just— mm??”
Lance suddenly presses his soft lips to his chapped ones to shut him up. Which was for the best, maybe.
Keith doesn’t even notice that their lips have already separated, too surprised by the sudden kiss that interrupted his ranting. His long, thin fingers tucked a few strands of his dark hair away from his face and looked directly into his deep purple eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “Okay. Let’s get one thing straight.”
“None of us are though.”
“Shut up, mullet man.”
He laughs at the nickname. Lance doesn’t because he’s busy trying to be serious, but Keith could see the tiny hint of smile at the corner of his mouth trying not to laugh with him.
“First of all, how dare you think that I’m going to get tired of you? That’s, like, super fucking offensive, babe.”
“Wha— “
He was once again, brought into a tight embrace, his face being pressed onto his chest. The dark-haired boy could feel the quick thumping of his lover’s heartbeat.
“Now who do you think is making my heart race like this?”
“…me?”
“That’s right. You’re the only asshole who could make me feel this way.”
“That’s-That’s good then…” He couldn’t fight the blush spreading his cheeks.
They were whispering, even though they were practically the only people in the house. It’s like as if they had their own world right here. Lance could just talk loudly like he normally did but here they were. Bodies together, feeling each other’s warmth. Everything felt so intimate and...just right.
And Keith was loving it.
“If you ever dare think you’re a terrible boyfriend I’m gonna kiss you.”
“Doesn’t sound so threatening to me,” he laughs because he thinks he’s a big, giant idiot for thinking so wrongly.
Relief washed over him and Keith feels like he could breathe properly again.
“Thank you, Lance.” He reaches up to the brunet’s face and gives him a quick peck on the lips. “For this, I mean. For being here with me and everything.”
“I did it for the power of love, babe,” Lance winks and Keith playfully rolls his eyes.
“So ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous for thinking like an idiot.” He pinches Keith’s nose making him wince in pain.
“Ow. Ugh, I said I'm sorry.”
They both then laugh to themselves over how dumb this situation is. It’s not really dumb. It just kinda is.
Lance then strokes Keith’s dark locks, “Remember, Keith. Love…,” he pauses, trying to sound dramatic, “…doesn’t follow a plan.” He instinctively attempts to make a ridiculous pose and makes his hands into finger guns. Keith thinks that if this were an anime, roses and sparkles would be surrounding him by now.
Keith is not impressed.
“I know you’re quoting South Park again, Lance. Quit trying to sound cool.”
“You love it, edgelord.”
He sighs, “You’re right, I do.”
He remembers how he loves this boy so much that he’d buy a truckload of chocolate for him…if only they weren't both broke college students.
“Hey, Lance.”
“Yeah, mi cariño?”
“사랑해, 자기.”