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“You gotta be more careful, man.”
Keith nods, eyes focused on Lance’s hands where they unfasten the hinges of his breastplate. There’s a practiced carefulness in how he moves, all suggestions that he knows Keith better than he should. He doesn’t even withdraw his hands at first, waiting until Keith looks up at him, and then slowly lifts the armor off Keith’s injured shoulder.
“This,” Lance explains, “Is what I’ve been talking about. You’re getting old, Chief. You can’t just go throwing yourself into danger whenever I turn my back. I’ve told you this a million times.”
“Give me some credit,” Keith says, rolling his shoulder despite the pain. He grins to cover the grimace. “That’s why I got you to fall back on.”
That makes Lance smile. He shrugs into his utility jacket, pulling it over his bare flight suit. The jacket is worn, patched up, stitched, and frayed in a dozen places. Lance can’t get rid of it, for what Keith assumes are sentimental reasons. Maybe because he brought it with him when made the choice to step into the Blue Lion’s cockpit that day in the desert. Or maybe because it reminds him of home. Maybe it reminds Lance of him.
Keith rather likes the possibilities of not knowing. It can be anything.
They’ve shared quarters just long enough Keith knows most of his quirks. The Atlas was smaller than the castle ship, two-bunk rooms designed with Garrison Flight Crews in mind, and they’d shuffled around until the configuration made sense. Once upon a time it would’ve seem odd for them to choose each other but over the years Keith watched Lance evolve. He watched him fall behind and watched him catch up. He watched Lance fall in and out of love with Allura. He watched Lance choose not to go home.
He watched Lance stay for him.
“The things I do,” Lance huffs, breaking into Keith’s memories. He plops down on his bed next to Keith with a sigh.
“‘M not paying you for that,” Keith mumbles, unbuckling his wrist gauntlets and tossing them to the floor. The room goes quiet.
Above them, the wall he’s plastered with photographs of the team mixed between images of Lance’s family back on Earth. The latest addition is a photograph of Nadia's wedding, flowers in her hair and beaming smile on her face. Lance cried for days when he found out he’d missed seeing her grow up. Missed her High School Graduation. Missed more than ten birthdays. Missed knowing she fell in love.
Each time they return to Earth, every person they left behind is older than the last. Older than they are. Keith doesn't remember how long it's been for them, how old he is, that doesn't feel like it matters anymore. Evidence that they're aging at all is only in their memories and the lines of their skin. Lance has a small scar just above his left eye and a big one in the spot directly below his ribs. Keith's got several now to match the one on his cheek. Sometimes things don't work out the way you expect them to.
And these days, Lance is a constant at Keith’s side. His resolve is a quiet sort of penance, an unvoiced eagerness to please Keith in a way that never fades. Lance says he won’t let the war take Keith, not after they’ve made it this far.
"Well," Lance pokes him in the cheek to get his attention back. He sits close enough the edge of lance’s jacket brushes along his waist. "Someone here has to look after you. Keep you in check."
Keith slides back on Lance’s bunk until his back hits the wall and Lance turns, folding one knee under himself so they're facing each other. The residuals of their last battle start to evaporate. Life starts to feel normal again.
“Hey,” Lance says in a hushed voice, like they’re little kids. “You wanna build a blanket fort?”
Keith snorts, reaching over to pull Lance’s hood over his head. He supposes this is why he keeps Lance around. "Too tired."
Lance laughs and Keith lets his hand fall to the lapels of Lance’s jacket. He grabs him then, leaning in and tugging Lance just a press forward. There’s only the tiniest exhale of surprise when Keith ghosts his lips over the corner of Lance’s mouth, then he rolls with the punch. The second kiss is just a soft but Lance kisses him back, finding a smooth rhythm, the movement natural and eased as though they’ve done it a hundred times. This is only the first.
Keith pulls away and Lance smiles at him, asking in a gentle voice, "What was that for?"
"Felt like it," Keith says, because it's the truth. Their relationship has always worked this way Things happen between them and it's just the soft click of something falling into place. Every fit, turn, and twist just feels right. A natural progression. Nothing's weird about it any more. Keith lets the cards fall as they will and he hasn’t been sorry yet.
With a soft laugh Lance lays down, legs stretching out and over Keith's knees. He pats the empty space beside him. "Nap time."
Keith gives a soft nod in acquiescence, maneuvering himself out from under Lance's legs and crawling between him and the wall. The beds are narrow and the mattress creaks beneath their knees. Remnants of the Garrison's military standard is scattered all over the Atlas, intermingled with Altean tech which stand like the ruins of Allura's own past. That was when things started to change, Keith thinks, when the end of the war was beginning and they discovered the consequences to all their decisions. The decisions that led them down paths they never foresaw.
And with that thought a sharp tremor rattles the ship and the engine buzzes around them, more reminders the ship was built by imperfect, inexperienced hands on Earth. The Castle had been stark and quiet, unnatural to human ears, haunting in a way. Keith closes his eyes to the sound now, letting it lull him to rest, as he curls against the crook of Lance's shoulder. The warmth of his body echoes down the length of Keith's right side. He used to lay like this with Shiro, but it'd meant something a little different then. Lance breathes different, his heart beats different, and what Keith wants from him is different. Keith's love for Lance is hinged on choosing to do so and Lance doing the same.
And they've shared their beds before, times when Lance cried himself to sleep in heartbreak and times when Keith wanted to do the same. He's reminded that being with Lance is a choice, different from the bonds that chose him, but a choice he's certain he'd make again.
He knows when he wakes, he'll open his eyes to see a fond smile and kind eyes.
Another click, another something falling right into place.