Chapter Text
"Please don't tell me you're going to wear that." Lance stared flatly at his boyfriend from the worn grey couch, barely bothering to hide the plea in his voice. He had barely got in from work ten minutes ago before his boyfriend called out from their room to wait on the couch. It had been a long day and in honesty, all he wanted was a nap.
"Why not? I wear it all the time." Keith was stood up in front of him, wearing a baggy plaid jacket with a hole in the cuff on top of Lance's old baseball tee and black ripped jeans. It looked good, Lance was absolutely not going to deny, but no way could Keith be serious about this.
"Why not? Becuase it's your brother's engagement party that's why not!" Lance's hands went to his face and he began to rub at his eyes and temples as he slumped further into the sofa. Keith pouted and took the jacket off, hanging it on the door before flopping down in the space next to Lance. He looked at Keith through his fingers and sighed,
"Keith, you know that I love you more than anything, but you are absolutely impossible when it comes to parties. You need to make a proper effort for these things. It's a big moment for Shiro!" Keith groaned and hung his head, catching on to what he was implying.
"Please don't tell me we have to go shopping." Lance grinned and pulled the other man's face up to meet his eye.
"I'm afraid we do, Mullet" Keith rolled his eyes at the old nickname and continued to protest. Lance meanwhile, was already off the sofa and on his feet.
"Come on Lance, it's not even a mullet anymore, it hasn't been in over a year!" Lance stooped to playfully tug on a wisp of hair growing from the back of Keith's head in a mock inspection.
"Hmmm, nope." Keith jerked his head away from Lance, annoyed. Gentle laughter swam into Lance's voice, "Still looks like a mullet to me baby." He picked Keith's jacket off the floor and threw it at him, who just about caught it.
Keith's hair had been a teasing point for their entire relationship, even back in the 'denial days', as Pidge had dubbed them. As two emotionally constipated nineteen year olds, the pair had decided that the best way to cope with their pining was to hate each other. It managed to build up into a fairly sized rivalry that dragged on for the better part of a year, until feelings (and a little alcohol) won out.
Keith pulled the jacket on and Lance grabbed onto his hands and pulled him to his feet. Still holding hands, he pulled Keith in close and wound his arms around his own neck, let go, and placing his own hands on the shorter man's waist. Keith tried to hide his spreading grin by burying his head in the crook between Lance's neck and shoulder as they stood, but Lance nudged his head up to meet eye to eye and softly pressed his lips to Keith's. Keith kissed him back, winding his arms tighter around Lance's neck and pulling them closer together. Just as Keith tried to deepen the kiss, Lance broke them apart, shot him a smirk and walked backwards into the hallway, still facing Keith. The frustration was clear on Keith's face and he clenched his fist in his hair.
"Gimme a minute to get changed and then we'll get a move on, we've clearly got lots of work to do, and I don't know when the shops close today." With laughter ringing in his voice, he winked before turning around and heading towards the door. Keith grumbled under his breath and moved to follow his boyfriend to change his own clothes.
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Keith hated shopping, and Lance knew it. He looked bored out of his mind as he dragged his feet from one store to another, unenthusiastically following as Lance browsed through the racks. Lance held up the occasional shirt to Keith's chest before either jamming it back on the railing or saving it for the changing rooms. At times Keith tried to voice his lack of interest, but Lance simply squeezed his hand and told Keith to trust him on this. It seemed to drag on for hours, but by store number five and outfit attempt number God-only-knows, Lance was finally satisfied and ready to go back home.
It was a fairly casual black blazer with the sleeves pushed up to Keith's elbows, worn over a dark red t-shirt and semi-tight black pants. Lance looked the other man up and down, inspecting and admiring, before nodding and looking up to meet Keith's eye.
"That's it, you're wearing that one." he decided.
"Oh am I?" Keith stepped towards him, relieved that they could leave but still giving in to the old temptation in pushing Lance's buttons. There was mock defiance in his voice, but not a genuine challenge. Just teasing enough on the edge to spark their familiar back and forth. Lance noticed the spark in his grin as he carried on towards Lance and took the bait, playing along with Keith's game.
"Well-" he drew his word out, leaning back against the wall and feigning nonchalance, " it's your choice, but your fashion sense is awful, so I recommend trusting me on this one." He punctuated himself by placing his index finger under Keith's chin and drawing his face in a fraction closer. The other man's grin settled into a conspiratory smirk as he allowed Lance's touch to dictate him. He rested his hand on the wall next to Lance's head and leaned closer, turning slightly to nose along his jaw and pepper infrequent kisses along the top of his neck.
He made his way up and across Lance's cheek and smiled again, softer than earlier, before reaching to capture his lips. Lance met him and snaked his arms around Keith's neck to pull him in even closer. Keith's free hand moved itself to Lance's waist and his back arched up toward Keith's chest. Their lips moved against each other, slow and familiar until the gentle pad of footsteps into the changing rooms interrupted them. Lance playfully shoved Keith back into the cubicle with a grin and waited for him to change back into his own clothes before paying for the outfit and leaving.
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When they got home, shopping bags in hand, they saw Coran pacing back and forth outside their door, at the sight of them, the older man was pulled out of his thoughts and his face lit up.
"Lance! Keith! Lovely to see you both, my lads. Now Lance, if you don't mind I need to borrow your Keith for an hour or so, to discuss something involving our latest.." He paused as if thinking about his next words carefully,
"-study. It is vital that I speak with him regarding this." The severity in his face fell away and he held up a single finger in reassurance.
"But worry not my boy, I shall have him home to you within the hour!" In typical Coran fashion, he has talked circles around Lance (a feat in itself) and whisked Keith away before either of them had time to fully comprehend the situation.
Keith called out a hasty goodbye as he was dragged down the stairs by the man and Lance chuckled to himself. The two had been working together for about a week on some sort of grand mystery expose for Keith's column. They had been keeping the details secret so far, with Keith saying he wanted to show Lance once they had a solid argument built and backed up, and Lance didn't press him on it. He let himself into the apartment and dumped the bags on the floor in the hallway.
Coran was Allura's godfather and had been Lance and Keith's professor for their Intro to Journalism unit (Lance had been desperate for extra credit, as he majored in education and childcare) in college, the only class that they had shared. The man was middle-aged and slightly eccentric in his journalistic methods and topics of focus, but it's why Keith was so excited to work with him on this case. Keith ran a monthly column in a semi-popular magazine focusing on urban legends and US folklore, a sort of myth-busting. He absolutely adored it, and Lance loved watching him take so much pride doing a job he enjoyed. But Coran was an undeniable expert in all things folklore-y, and the pair had been meeting frequently to discuss the case.
In the spare room, Keith's library book was still open on a page near to the end, his laptop gone into sleep mode as they were out. The window was open, letting in a draft from the cool September air and pulling at the pages of the book, not quite strong enough to turn them over. Lance reached to close the window and locking it with the key in the desk drawer, pausing to skim over the open page. It was about early Slavic burial rites and beliefs about the dead. Something to do with how bodies decomposed. It looked pretty interesting, he made a mental note to revisit the page later.
Lance marked the page and moved to book to the side shelf, settling down at the desk to organise his timetable for work that week. He got a job at a recreation center for kids and teenagers just over six months ago, and this month Nyma had put him in charge of weekly activity organisation. He loved his job and the kids he worked with, but there was a lot that went into it, and man there were some brats occasionally. Like Kevin. Kevin managed to anger Lance in a way that - year-old should not be able to angry a grown man, but that kid was such a little asshole ALL the tim-
Okay, he was getting distracted. He'd planned up until Saturday afternoon, and he wasn't even on shift this weekend. Lance was going to count that as a win, so he got out of the chair and walked around the apartment to stretch his legs for a few minutes. He noticed that their bedroom window was wide open with the curtains swaying in the building winds. He closed it and made sure that he locked it this time. Even took the key out of the lock and placed it on the nightstand, to be certain. There wasn't exactly a reason for it, but something about it all made Lance feel uneasy.
True to their words, Coran and Keith knocked on the front door just under an hour after they had left. They offered to let Coran stay over for dinner, but he declined, saying he had some very important 'tools' to gather for their next meeting. He left with his usual eccentric courtesy and the pair focused on making dinner and setting up Netflix to finish off the latest season of a show Hunk had forced them into watching. He saw a wink of metal under the light on Keith's chest, and took the chain between his thumb and forefingers, gently drawing Keith in closer to him.
"Is this new or am I just oblivious?" He held the pendant up to his face to get a closer look.
"You're oblivious, yes," He took the chain out of Lance's hands, "but this is new. Coran gave it to me." he held the pendant between his teeth, winding his arms around Lance's neck and pulling him close enough to just graze the other boy's mouth with his own, the cool bite of the silver sending jolts down Lance's spine. "You like it?" God that man was going to be the death of him.
"Coran's buying you jewelry? Should I be worried?" He grinned, and Keith let the pendant fall from his mouth.
"Very funny, McClain. It's for the case, some kind of folk protection symbol. He thought I should take it." he dipped his head to rest it in the crook of Lance's neck, pecking his skin quickly, and they stood, swaying slightly to the faint hum of the radio. Keith's fingers were curling around the short hair at the nape of Lance's neck, and he moved to hug the other man's waist tighter, spinning lazy circles to some 80s synthpop neither of them could quite recognise. A few minutes passed before the beeping of the oven pulled them from their haze and back to the reality, and made Lance realise that actually, he could really go for some dinner right now.
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After dinner Keith was lying on Lance's chest on the couch, their legs entangled and tired brains only half focused on the show they were meant to be watching. It was a cop show that Hunk and Pidge had recently become obsessed with and commanded them to catch up on, and they really were trying to. Lance's hand was rested on the small of Keith's back, under his shirt, and Keith's arms were slung over Lance's chest with his fingers laced to form a pillow of his hands. Lance was tracing patterns onto Keith's skin, idly sketching out a universe in below his ribcage. Keith hummed and turned his head, rested his chin on the backs of his palms to stare up at him and Lance swung his gaze to meet his eye.
Keith's pupils were blown and his eyes were roaming across Lance's face as if trying to burn the sight into his memory. He moved his hands to either side of Lance's head and pushed himself up over him. Lance looked up, incapable of tearing his eyes away from Keith's face as he ducked his head down to Lance's neck.
He stretched his head back to expose more of himself under Keith's lips and could feel the other man's breath hot against his skin. Keith drew his lips down to the base of his collarbone and drew back to take the sensitive skin between his teeth, biting down just enough for Lance to feel a sharpness run down his spine. Lance could feel the heat against his skin, hyperaware of everywhere they were touching and his hand slowly tensing up on Keith's bare back, digging his nails into the skin.
Keith moved his mouth further up Lance's neck, leaving behind a trail of hot open kisses left to sting in the cool air. His lips reached Lance's jaw and he could hear Keith's breathing coming raggedly so close to his ear. He sat back and swatted Lance's hand off of his back, before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it on the floor, forgotten. His hair was ruffled and stuck out in ten different directions. Lance snorted and tried to run his hands through it in an attempt to tame it as he leaned back down, but Keith dived straight to Lance's mouth.
The force was almost bruising, and Lance jerked further into Keith's hold out of reflex. His hands flew to Keith's bare waist and he used the hold to pull the two closer together. The other man cupped a hand on Lance's jaw and moved it to tilt his head up and deepen the kiss while hooking his other hand under Lance's knee and pulling his leg up around his own hips. The heat, the pressure, and the electrifying feel of Keith all over him made his head spin and his body shift into autopilot, acting on muscle memory built up from years of familiarity with the way they moved together. Lance's fingers flew from Keith's waist, traveling up his bare chest in the small space between them until he reached his neck. He brushes his left index finger up the side, running his touch in tandem with Keith's pulse.
The moment Lance brushed his finger over where Keith's vein was, he froze and jerked away like Lance had burned him. He sat up and flung back to the other end of the couch as if pulled by some outward force. He stayed sitting on his ankles at the far end with one hand clamped down on his neck, eyes wide and breathing heavy. Lance pushed himself up into sitting and reached out a slow hand to Keith's forearm.
"Babe, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" His words were tinged with concern and his voice was slightly raspy. Keith gave a small shake of his head and broke eye contact with Lance, still not moving his hand from where his fingers had been.
"No, you didn't. It's nothing, nothing. I- I just. Don't know what came over me. I just freaked out, it wasn't you." Lance reached out to him while he stammered, and noticing him flinch, lowered and slowed his touch to hover above Keith's elbow instead. Once he was sure that Keith had calmed down enough to be touched, he rested his hand there.
"Hey, it's okay." Keith turned to face him again, big dark eyes flitting back and forth across his face.
"I think it's just because I'm tired. It's messing with me." He might be on to something there, he'd been waking up in the middle of the night, several times a night every day for over a week now. Lance told him that he could always wake him up if he couldn't sleep, but Keith always refused to, saying that just being next to him was enough. It was sweet, but stupid. But not wasn't the time to voice that opinion, Keith needed him to be calming.
"You don't have to do anything, I'm right here." He gave Keith's arm a gentle squeeze. He held his arms out in invitation, and Keith crawled to him. Lance made sure to keep away from his neck, holding him around the chest with one arm and using his free left hand to card through Keith's hair. He kissed Keith's cheek and waiting until his breathing had slowed to normal before speaking.
"Do you want to just go to sleep?" Keith nodded, teeth worrying into his lower lip.
"I feel dizzy. Like I'm gonna throw up, or pass out. Maybe both." Lance shifted and Keith moved off of his lap. He stood up and took Keith's hands, which he had finally removed from his neck. It was too dark in the living room to see if there was anything on his skin that Lance may have accidentally hurt by touching.
"Come on then, I'll help you. You want some water?" He left to get a bottle out from the fridge and took Keith by the hand and led him to their bedroom, where a cool night breeze was flowing in from the open window.
He forced Keith to at least get changed into pyjamas before crashing out on their bed, and once he was wrapped up Lance started to retire himself. It had been a long day for them both, and Lance flung a lazy arm around Keith's shoulders and held him close while the two drifted off, feeling the draft in their sleepy faces.