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When Lance is upset, you know. Like the force of a thousand, his pain felt tenfold by anyone within the vicinity. His presence is powerful like the sea, enticing like the stars. The world lacks its natural stability, and if anyone is more aware of Lance and his intense sway of emotions, it’s Shiro and Keith.
Shiro, who’d been the first of the two to meet Lance, should be used it by now. They were best friends before they were boyfriends, probably too far wound around each other’s fingers. It took years, but they eventually crumbled, caving to their feelings later rather than sooner.
The first three years were that of a storybook, derived from the greatest fairy tales ever written. For two people that knew each other better than the backs of their palms, it’s hard to see it going any other way. Lance understood Shiro far better than anyone else, and vice versa.
When they met Keith, it was…weird, until it wasn’t. Lance and Shiro both ended up having a crush on him, and it took a heap of miscommunications and the opening of Lance’s third eye to realize that things would still be alright.
And though things turned for the better in the long run, it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes things just get to Lance. He works in a crowded, overbearing office with pinheads that make him want to very well jump into the sun than live another day on the same planet as them. That, plus his ridiculous gym schedule and general annoyance at everything else will give him a case of a bad day many more times than once.
Unbeknownst to Lance, his boyfriends had felt the shift in their ever so calm seas, acting quickly to make things right as best they could on his last day of work for the week.
When Lance enters the house, he’s greeted by a darkness that only brings him to assume that his boyfriends haven’t made it home. Though, he only managed to remove his jacket before he was proved wrong. He yelps when he’s picked up from behind, gentle but massive hands (Shiro. It has to be) setting him down onto their couch. It’s then when he notices the candles surrounding the room. Oh?
“What? What is this—?” Lance is effectively cut off when Keith’s fingertips (since Shiro’s haven’t moved from his side) curl underneath the collar of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. He tips his head back instinctively, nosing for a kiss that Keith more than willingly gives. Back in front, Shiro fumbles the buttons on his shirt, unfastening each one with a haste that Lance can only conclude to mean one thing.
“Are we gonna—”
“No .” Shiro and Keith respond as if they’d rehearsed it before he came home. Lance sighs, his newfound energy depleting as his shirt is effectively stripped from his body. Shiro, with warm hands that burn hotter than the sun, massages small circles into his shoulder blades. His eyes glaze over before fluttering shut, only opening when Keith gives a kiss to his lips.
“What are we doing then?” He asks quietly.
“We’ve noticed that you’re having a hard time at work,” Keith hums, his tempo and volume relatively the same as Lance’s, “and…well, we just wanted to give you a little something to ease the ache. A distraction—or two, is a better way of saying it.”
“Awe, but—hey, guys you didn’t have to. We could have just done movies, and I still have to shower…” Lance tips his chin to Shiro submissively, only to be turned away. There’s a loving nip of his teeth along Lance’s jawline, but he’s turned away nonetheless.
“You’re our boyfriend, Lance.” Keith says, standing up, “this is what we do.”
“What? Where are you going?” Lance already feels himself giving into the deep presses along his back, chasing his mouth as he backs away, fist clutching his work shirt.
“To throw this in the wash,” Keith murmurs gently, “just relax, Shiro’s got this.”
“But I want you both…” Lance’s voice drifts into a featherlight sigh, quickly silenced when wet lips line the cusp of his collarbone. It’s nice— so so nice. It’s soft, each caress filled with care and love that he’s longed so desperately for this week. More than he’ll admit. He can feel the stress of endless paperwork and irritating coworkers willingly melt from his body and Shiro’s kisses are enough to bring him to a blissful state Lance is positive he never wants to leave.
He speaks on it, a hushed “Never stop,” falling from his lips. It’s then when Keith returns with a plate that overflows with a substance that Lance can’t really specify until it’s closer, in front of his eyes. Through the assistance of the candles lit about the room, he manages to make out what he thinks is the most garlic knots he’s ever seen in a plate in his short twenty-one years of life.
“Are those for me?” He asks, to which Keith smiles brightly with a nod. His teeth peek from behind his lips and Lance feels a flush bloom along his already reddened cheeks. That smile is one he can’t stand as much as he loves to see it. Keith’s next words only add to the joy.
“Every single one.”
“Oh yes .” He grins, reaching for one, “Nevermind. You should have done this. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us,” Keith takes his hand, digging his thumb into Lance’s punching-bag-bruised knuckles as Shiro lets up from behind, “we love you. This is what you do for people you love.”
“Wow Keith,” Lance snorts, “like you didn’t say that ten minutes ago.”
“It doesn’t mean any less a second time.”
When Shiro kisses his lips as if tomorrow isn’t theirs and Keith nuzzles his nose in his outgrown curls, every terrible occurrence, every endless battle manages to fall into its strange place. Because though there are bad days, the world has to balance itself out. And to have Keith and Shiro to come to, he’ll take the worst of it with open arms.