Chapter Text
Keith wasn’t particularly fond of early mornings. He didn’t like to be rushed, or to feel like he’d forgotten something because he’d been too tired to focus properly at the time. He was usually pretty good at preparing for things the night before, but that still didn’t make waking up early any easier the following morning.
There were some perks to it, however. Some he liked to think outweighed the negative.
Lance.
He did not like mornings at all. Lance was rather keen on getting his beauty sleep. He had an elaborate night time routine and he was the type of person who could sleep through almost everything once he’d managed to let his mind drift away. There was something cute about the way he softened when he slept, Keith thought. Even if Lance snored and let out little grunts and acted more like an octopus than a boy when he was asleep.
That was one of the reasons Keith tolerated waking up early. It sounded a little creepy when he thought about it, but he really liked to watch Lance sleep. His boyfriend looked peaceful when he was fast asleep, his skin all soft and warm. A lot of the time there would be sunlight streaming in through their curtains and it would give Lance this amazing glow. His eyelashes always looked so long when Keith had the chance to stare freely at him like that.
Of course, sleepy Lance in the mornings was even better than asleep Lance.
Keith was rather delighted to find out that Lance was just as much an octopus when he was tired and still half asleep as he was when he was actually asleep. A lot of the time Keith was the first one awake, or at least the first one getting on with the morning. He’d already be showered and making coffee or breakfast when Lance would blearily stumble from their bedroom, sometimes still wrapped in a blanket from their bed.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he’d always mumble.
“I’m making breakfast,” Keith would reply. He’d hold still as Lance shuffled up behind him, fingers reaching for Keith’s hips. He had a habit of curving against Keith’s back, fitting himself in as close as he could, like he was going to try and go back to sleep. Sometimes he did try, and Keith could never find it in him not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping it in.
Lance was unusually quiet when he was sleepy. Sometimes he’d mumble small, unintelligible things into the back of Keith’s neck, or sigh as he nuzzled Keith’s hair, but that was about it. He seemed content to hug Keith from behind, stubbornly keeping Keith still for his own comfort – not that Keith complained in the least. It was nice to have Lance draped all over him like that. He was always warm, and pleasantly solid. He’d follow Keith around the kitchen like a lost puppy, flashing pleading blue eyes that begged for a few more minutes of rest.
“You’ll have to wake up eventually,” Keith would often remind him. Lance also had an extensive morning routine, and he liked to take his time getting ready. While somehow miraculously never running late, it did take him a while, and it was better to get started as soon as possible.
Lance would only ever grumble in reply, tightening his grip on Keith like he thought Keith was going to shake him off. “Give me five more minutes…”
Keith always did, because how could he not, when Lance was so cute?
In winter, during the coldest mornings, sometimes Lance would gravitate towards the heater in the lounge room instead. Keith would always be able to hear him shuffling about, a hand on the wall for balance. He’d stand in the kitchen doorway and watch Lance paw at the heater’s on-switch before sinking down in front of it like he was in a trance. The heat always seemed to wake him up a little faster than usual – he didn’t like the cold, and preferred summer to winter. His cheeks would flush from the warmth and when he was awake enough, he notice Keith watching him, and send him a wide, careless grin that always had Keith feeling a tad warmer, too.
He supposed that being with someone like Lance made him appreciate all those little things. He sometimes found himself watching Lance, trying to memorise all the things he did so that he could appreciate them later. Like how Lance always handed him a hot mug with the handle first, so that he wouldn’t burn his hands. And how Lance always paired his socks for him straight off the line, so he didn’t have to go digging through their washing pile for them. And how Lance always put aside freshly washed knives so that Keith wouldn’t accidentally cut himself when he put all the dishes away.
There wasn’t anyone in the world who treated him like Lance did. Who made him feel things like Lance did.
That’s why Lance was so important to him. He made Keith want to feel in love, made Keith feel loved. He hadn’t really had an interest in romantic relationships before he met Lance. It hadn’t been an instant love sort of thing, either.
If he were being honest, he hadn’t really liked Lance at first; he’d been loud and obnoxious, and way too into other people’s businesses. He’d like to make every single thing into a competition and got huffy if he lost, even when Keith insisted he wasn’t participating. He’d popped up at every turn after they’d met, and half the time it was completely coincidental, like if they ran into each other at the grocery store. It had been so infuriating, but it had made Keith really look at him, look past what was on the surface (though he had slowly come to realise just how pretty said surface was).
Now Keith wouldn’t have him any other way.