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On a Tuesday night in the middle of September, Keith walks out the bathroom to come face to face with Lance. He instantly recognizes his dorm neighbor--the man who doesn’t understand the concept of listening to music or using Facetime with headphones, the man who will bang on the wall in frustration at three a.m. because he’s trying to finish an essay for an eight a.m. class but could care less about the person sleeping on the other side. Hate is too strong of a word, but Keith severely dislikes his fellow sophomore classmate.
Lance stares at him with equal parts shock and fear--which confuses Keith greatly. They shuffle side to side as they try to walk past the other but end up settling in a huff. This is when Keith notices Lance clutches a hand to his side, and maybe that expression on his face is not so much fear but more pain.
“Uh, you alright?” Keith asks, gesturing his head toward Lance’s side, who immediately angles it away from view. Crossing his arms, Keith cocks an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“Fine, fine, perfect as always.” Lance flashes a dazzling smile. It ruins Keith’s concentration for a moment.
He may dislike the guy, but Keith can’t ignore the fact that he’s attractive. Not with those ocean blue eyes, tousled brown hair that curls slightly when wet, and his numerous freckles adorning his cheeks and nose. Overall, Lance is cute, extremely so, even with his obnoxious personality.
“Uh huh. I bet you have a reasonable explanation for why you’re bleeding too,” Keith says, watching as Lance’s gray t-shirt slowly colors a brownish-red, seeping out from under his hand.
Lance looks down with a grimace. “I am? Wow, I didn’t notice.” He begins to shuffle to the side, flicking out his ID card to open the bathroom. “I should go clean up then before I make a mess.”
“Water isn’t gonna help with whatever you have going on under there--” Keith vaguely gestures to Lance’s entire body “--do you even have bandages, disinfectant, a new shirt?”
There’s a pause and Lance slowly backs away from the door. “No…”
Keith mumbles ‘idiot’ under his breath. Having nothing better to do tonight, he makes his worst impulsive decision ever. “Come on, let me help.”
“Really?” Lance questions as he hesitantly follows behind Keith to his dorm. He doesn’t answer though, mentally growling at himself for his too helpful nature. Bleeding boys should not be his problem, especially when said boy is practically a stranger and keeps Keith up at night, but his humanity has gotten the better of him. And he is worried… whatever happened, it looks painful.
The sharp beep of the lock opening drags Keith from his thoughts. He turns to find Lance practically pressed up against his back; this close and Keith can see a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He opens the door quickly after the observation, hurrying to where he keeps his first aid kit.
Lance immediately situates himself on the floor, back pressed up against the wall as he winces, taking his hand away. His palm is completely covered in blood, and some has already started to drip onto the floor.
“Take off your shirt,” Keith says as he turns around, first aid kit in his hand. He’ll have to thank Shiro for forcing him to buy one; who knew it would come in handy so soon.
Lance smiles again. “Didn’t know you liked me in that way, Kogane. All you had to do was ask.”
“I don’t like you at all,” Keith grits, stalking closer and kneeling in front of the wounded man. “Take off your shirt.”
This time Lance pouts, maneuvering himself slowly as he pulls the ruined garment over his head. It plops on the floor beside them. “Nurses are supposed to be nice.”
“Good thing I’m not planning on being a nurse then.” Keith’s eyes flicker down to the now revealed wound. It’s… gross to say the least; something tore at Lance’s side, marring his brown skin with deep puncture marks that could have ripped through him. They look an awful lot like teeth marks. Lance is just lucky that the wound has already stopped bleeding out.
Cautiously, Keith prods the area around the injury, as if feeling for any broken bones though he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. He hopes there’s no internal bleeding.
Lance sucks in a sharp breath. “Be careful.”
Keith glances back up at his dorm neighbor. For the first time, he notices there is a bit of dirt stuck to his cheeks and leaves in his hair as if he somersaulted down a hill this late at night. “You’re a dumbass. We should be going to the RA,” Keith says, now grabbing a large padded bandage from his first-aid kit.
“It’s nothing, just a scratch.” Lance looks at the wound. “Or a bite.”
“Even worse,” Keith mumbles as he continues to prepare to clean the wound. He ties his long hair into a messy bun to keep it from bothering him, “You might have rabies.”
“I’m fine; ‘s not like I can afford a trip to the hospi--OW, the fuck?” Lance jerks back from Keith’s touch, hands slapping on the ground in surprise at the pain.
“Oops, this is going to hurt,” Keith says cheekily, dabbing more alcohol on to the cotton ball.
Lance’s glare could match a wolf’s. “Worst. Nurse. Ever.”
They continue on in silence, though Keith’s touch becomes gentler whenever his feels Lance flinch. Once the blood has been cleared away, Keith rips off the bandage’s protective packaging and begins to press it to Lance’s skin.
Lance watches Keith’s every movement. “Though it pains me to say this, I’m glad I ran into you. I would have fucked this up even more if I had to patch myself up on my own.”
Finally, Keith looks up at him, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Why do you have a single anyways? You seem like the type that needs constant supervision.”
“One, I resent that,” Lance begins, teeth clamping together suddenly as he moves his legs to stop them from falling asleep, “and two, my best friend Hunk decided to be a Pride Leader this year and basically hung me out to dry on the rooming situation. But he buys me coffee some mornings, so it’s all good.”
Keith studies the man in front of him, the fatigue of his body, the way his shoulders slump, his messy hair, stressed smile, and tired eyes, and asks the question that has been on his mind this whole evening. “Do you know what bit you?”
“Yeah, a wolf.” Lance pauses suddenly, a sly smirk slowly appearing. “You think I’ll turn into a werewolf?”
Keith lightly flicks him on the forehead. “You’re an idiot.”
Rocks ping at his window. It five o’clock in the morning, and Keith vehemently curses whoever is throwing the stones. The shade violently shutters as it flies upwards, and the window creaks as it opens, Keith grunting as he shuffles it up the ungreased track to yell at the stranger. A burst of cold, morning air floods his room as it weaves through his clothes and settles right on his skin. Goose flesh appears immediately.
As his eyes adjust, a confused and annoyed scowl soon rests on Keith’s lips. On the ground below stands a completely naked Lance, whose hands are cupped in front of his groin to preserve whatever dignity or modesty he has left--it’s not much, if had any at all to begin with. He bounces in place, eyes darting up when he sees Keith opening the window. Relief spreads across his face.
“Thank God; it’s cold as fuck out here.” Lance’s voice is hoarse, teeth chattering slightly.
With a deadpan expression, Keith stares at him. “Why the hell are you outside and naked?”
He grimaces. “Can you let me in? I don’t have my ID card.”
With a sigh he shakes his head and disappears from Lance’s sight, only to hear a quick cry of “Keith!” as he leaves his room. Less than a minute later he’s opening the door to the dorm building, and once Lance spots him, he immediately jogs over with a flippant smile.
“Hey, thanks for doing this for me.”
Keith ignores that look. “You’re lucky no one called the cops on you.”
They quickly pad through the dorm hall until they reach Keith’s door. With Lance not having his ID card, that means he’s locked out of his room until they either call campus security to unlock the door or Lance remembers where he left his card. Either way, it seems that Lance--a very naked Lance--will be stuck with Keith until one of those two things happen.
With the window having been left open, the room is just as cold as outside, and he watches as Lance’s expression dims upon realizing this. Keith whirls on him the minute the door closes with a residing click. “ Explain .”
Lance blinks, his blue eyes bright. “So you know that thing a day or two ago where you called me an idiot for asking what I believed to be a truly pertinent question?” Keith nods. “Well guess who’s the idiot now!?”
“Still you? Because you’re still naked?”
Lips twitching, Lance shakes his head. “Haha, no, Keith, see it’s come to my attention that a certain creature exists and said creature bit me two days ago and now I am also said creature.”
“None of that makes any sense,” Keith retorts, arms crossed and pointedly looking anywhere but at Lance’s naked figure. But oh do his eyes want to roam and take in the god like sight before him.
“I’m a werewolf, Keith,” Lance wildly waves his hands around, unfortunately taking them off his junk and unfortunately giving Keith a view he did not want to see. This seems to snap Keith out of his daze as he marches over to his dresser, quickly picking out a few articles of clothing, and he throws a ball of pants and a shirt and underwear at Lance in protest, hoping he’ll get the hint.
Lance’s words finally sink in as Keith stops in his tracks and Lance casually gets dressed. “How high are you?”
“I’m serious.” He almost trips putting on his pants as his head shoots up to glare at Keith.
“Then prove it.”
Keith’s sweatpants are too short for Lance, the hem hovering above his ankles, but the waist hangs low on his hips, showcasing a defined V. Keith’s gaze lingers for a second before Lance’s waving arms draw his attention again. “I can’t just prove it! You’ll have to wait until the next full moon.”
Crossing his arms, Keith cocks his head. “Well, then I guess I can’t believe you until then.”
Lance gaps, trying to formulate a new direction for this argument. Then suddenly he points to the side of his body as he grins wildly. “Wait, wait, see my wound is completely healed! No scar or anything.” There’s a defiant glint in Lance’s eyes, excited to finally beat Keith at this game.
Despite his better nature, his eyes drift to that smooth brown skin littered with freckles. Keith reaches out, his fingers ghosting across Lance’s skin with a slight dance; Lance shivers under his touch. Marveling at the unmarred area--it’s completely healed just as Lance said; no one would even know he had been bleeding out on Keith’s floor a couple days ago--he sucks in a breath. “I’ll admit that that’s a little impossible.”
A shirt slips over Lance’s head and the miracle disappears. “ A little? Geez, you’re hard to please.” Lance’s hair sticks up as he pops his head through the collar, but he doesn’t bother to pat it down. Keith has to admire the spikiness for a moment.
“Fine, so you’re a werewolf, I guess…” His eyes narrow as he knows what he’s going to say is completely ridiculous and will feed into this delusion. “When did your ‘transformation’ happen?”
“Well, I was at a party--”
Keith grits his teeth, finding himself rubbing the bridge of his nose. “So you were high or drunk or both.”
“ No , this happened early on; I didn’t even get to experience that sweet, sweet release alcohol provides.” A longing sigh leaves his lips before he continues onward.
“I had a headache all day, but I thought it was stress related, you know, assignments are starting to pile up and everything and teachers already want us to start thinking of our final papers. But anyways, the pain just kept getting worse and worse as the day was ending. Flashforward to the party, drink in hand, I’m talking to a really pretty girl, and all of a sudden I feel like I have to throw up. So I excuse myself and run to the bathroom, only I don’t know where the bathroom is so I rush outside instead, and I stumble and fall and experience the worst sensation I have ever felt in my life. Next thing I know, I’m in the middle of a small forest, the sun is only just rising, and a mauled squirrel is near me. Also, I’m completely naked.”
“Yeah, I could’ve already guessed that part of the story.” Those images will never leave Keith’s mind.
“Keith,” Lance whines, “this is serious .”
Sighing again, he looks Lance straight in the eyes. “Are you sure last night was a full moon?”
“Yes, Keith.”
“And you’re sure no one slipped anything into your drink?”
“Positive.”
He nods for a moment, allowing all the data to sink in before deciding on the next step to take. “Alright, so what are we gonna do about this?”
If Lance is surprised by Keith’s clam manner, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he palms the back of his neck, as if realizing he hadn’t thought beyond confessing to Keith. “I guess research?”
“You hate researching.”
“It’ll be fun research,” Lance replies instead.
“There’s no such thing as ‘fun’ research,” Keith retorts.
Lance waves his concerns away, pushing the too short sleeves of his--Keith’s--shirt up to his elbows. “Psh, you just haven’t had the Lance McClain experience yet.” He rubs his hands together with a bright smile, and now Keith is truly afraid.
On October 1st, Lance decorates his dorm door for Halloween, and Keith scowls beside him. “Is this really necessary?” Keith asks, watching as Lance adds another paper jack o lantern to the wooden surface. Bats and ghosts already swing from the door frame; they were strung too low though and constantly bump into Lance’s head. It’s a little funny, Keith has to admit.
“I can’t call myself a true Halloween fan if I don’t decorate on Halloween first.”
Keith can’t help the smirk that appears on his face. “At least you won’t have to worry about a costume this year.”
Confused, Lance swings around to stare at Keith. “Yeah I do--wait, oh, oh I hate you so much.”
“I’m just saying,” Keith shrugs with his widening grin, “you’re already a real werewolf, no need to buy a fake costume.”
Something flashes in Lance’s eyes, and he points a waving finger at Keith. “Aha, so you do believe me!”
“Nope, no, never said that!” Keith scowls, turning around so his back faces Lance, and he changes the subject. “I thought we were supposed to be researching.”
In the last week or so, Keith has found himself constantly stuck to Lance’s side, though they really haven’t done anything else besides studying for their normal classes. But every time something new happens--“Keith! I can hear your heartbeat from over here.” or “My eyesight is so sharp; dude, you gotta do something about your pores.”--he comes running to Keith. It’s a nice system they have developed.
“Well I thought of something more urgent.”
Marching down the hall and out the building, Lance brings them to his car, and Keith still has no idea where they’re going, yet he follows nonetheless. He’s an idiot for blindly following this man, he summarizes as he buckles himself in the passenger side, and they speed away from the college. After twenty minutes down the highway, Keith’s eyes catch onto a large red sign and that scowl reappears. Lance pulls into the relatively crowded Savers’ parking lot.
“Buying new clothes isn’t going to help your ‘situation,’” Keith grumbles as he hops out of the car. The crisp fall air bats him the face. A few leaves twirl across the blacktop, skittering around each other, playing a game of tag. Keith tugs his fleece closer to himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Lance on the other hand--the weirdo who forgot his jacket in the dorm but doesn’t seem bothered by the cold--stretches out his arms to welcome in the fall. He turns back to Keith with a response.
“I can’t rip up half my wardrobe every month, Keith! And I don’t appreciate those air quotes.” Wind catches his brown hair, gently blowing it across his forehead.
“Please tell me you’re not going to model every outfit,” Keith grumbles as he trails behind, shoulders hunched as his long hair wacks him in the face.
“Ha, you wish you were so lucky.” There’s a blinding grin that tells Keith just what kind of trip he’s in for, but he can’t say he minds so much.
Lance eagerly grabs a shopping cart, running at full speed much to the displeasure of the cashier, and rides it down one of the clothing aisles until he reaches his destination. Keith, shaking his head at the spectacle, follows again, but not before sending an apologetic look to the employees.
Keith catches up to him quickly, passing by a row of Halloween costumes and props. Something grabs his attention out of the corner of his eye, but he leaves it be for now.
Humming as he sorts through the clothes on the hangers, Lance absentmindedly mumbles, “Ooh that’s cute, don’t wanna ruin that,” every so often. Keith has to roll his eyes as he leans on the cart, chin in the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the bar.
The screech of the metal hangers scraping against the metal rack leaves little room for conversation. That’s alright, Keith prefers to observe.
“Do you need any clothes while we’re here?” Lance questions suddenly as he looks back over his shoulder, eyes distastefully roaming over Keith’s outfit and his disheveled hair--okay so maybe he rolled out of bed this morning and was too sleepy to comb his hair. He pats it down now, fingers catching on a few tangles. Lance remains unimpressed.
Finally, Keith responds with a “No.” He quite likes his ripped black jeans, red plaid flannel, black fleece he stole out of Shiro’s closet, and of course his fingerless gloves.
Lance pouts. “Aw, but I found the best shirt.” From the rack, he reveals a regular black t-shirt with white printed script reading, ‘Retired Emo Kid.’
“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Keith bites back a smile.
“Yeah, I’m hilarious.”
Keith retaliates a few minutes later, briskly walking back to the Halloween section without Lance noticing. Slowly, with hands behind his back, he walks up to Lance who stands in front of a mirror, placing t-shirts in front of his chest--Keith doesn’t understand why Lance cares how they look on him if they’ll just be destroyed eventually. They all look fantastic anyways. “Here, Lance.” Keith places a pair of fake wolf ears on his head. “Is this how you looked?”
Lance tilts his head to the side, becoming insanely adorable as the ears flop to the side with his movement. He gently pokes the furry ears before saying, “It’s not nice to make fun of the supernatural.” Then his blue eyes cut to Keith. “I hope I eat you next full moon.”
“Please,” Keith smirks, propping himself against a column to stare at Lance, “I would be too bitter for you.”
“You’re right,” he says with a nod; Keith has to swallow a laugh. “Try to sweeten yourself up before then.”
The ears remain on Lance’s head as they continue to walk around the store. Their--his--cart is almost completely filled with various t-shirts and pants that will all be discarded on one full moon or another. Keith will admit that Lance has had good foresight in needing to buy a second wardrobe--there are some outfits that Keith would miss dearly if they were shredded.
Matching his steps with Lance’s, Keith slides in close, lips nearly brushing the shell of Lance’s ear. “Come on, Lance, give me your best howl.”
There’s a smirk on his lips as he immediately stops the cart, the wheels squeaking in protest. Eagerly complying, Lance arches back his head, releasing a deep “Ahrooo” that ripples through the store.
They’re officially banned form Savers after that.
Plastic bags filled with cheap, used clothing swing by their hips as they make their way back to Lance’s car. The temperature hasn’t increased in the slightest, but Keith feels warmer leaving than when he went in. A large grin encompasses the lower half of his face.
“Did you see everyone’s faces?” Keith barely breathes out, body quaking with harsh chuckles as he tries to reign in his amusement.
Still embarrassed from being berated by the manager, Lance rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
Keith breaks down again, stumbling to the car, intoxicated on the memories from only a few minutes ago. This is the hardest Keith has ever laughed, and he cracks a smile when the laughter finally subsides deep within his body. Lance mirrors him, studying this new version of Keith, with a slight blush on his face. Only later does Keith realize Lance hadn’t been blushing from embarrassment.
In true college kid fashion, they start their research a couple weeks after they said they would.
“I found some books and stuff,” Lance says as he plops a pile down onto the table, ignoring Keith’s carefully laid out notebooks filled with his messy, scribbled notes. Various doodles are scattered across the pages.
Keith’s eyes skim the stack. He spots familiar books like Twilight , Harry Potter, something called Shiver , and six seasons of the tv series Teen Wolf . A displeased frown sits on his lips as he cocks a single eyebrow at Lance. “You think these are going to help? Fiction?”
“Well yeah.”
“I’m not marathoning six seasons of Teen Wolf with you.”
“ Please ,” Lance whines, bottom lip jutting out and eyes widening, his classic puppy dog stare--maybe Lance really was destined to be part dog after all. “There are some really cute boys too, or that’s what some girl told me when I was grabbing them.”
Keith relents--not because of the chance to see hot, shirtless men of course, though caving because of Lance’s stare is probably just as bad to admit to. “Fine.”
“Fantastic!” Lance claps his hands. “I’ll bring the popcorn.”
Two and a quarter seasons in, Keith finds himself more invested than he ever thought possible. He almost forgot that this was supposed to be research. On his right, Lance is almost asleep, head leaning on Keith’s shoulder and eyes fluttering closed before they pop open combined with an “I’m awake!” It is three o’clock in the morning, and they’ve been up for almost thirty hours. Thank God for weekends.
Sitting on Keith’s bed, legs tangled in the sheets, they watch the show on the small TV Keith has on top of his dresser. They would have done this in the common room, but somehow Lance persuaded him that it’d be easier to stay in his dorm. Keith finds that it is much more intimate this way and he has to wonder if this was somehow Lance’s original goal.
Stretching for the remote, groaning as his fingers briefly brush the edge of the object on the window sill, Keith manages to pause the episode. His eyes dart down to Lance, who sleepily looks up at him, head still resting on Keith’s shoulder. “We should go to sleep,” Keith says.
Unable conceal a yawn, Lance’s eyes briefly flutter close but it takes a solid two seconds for them to open again. “But I’m learning so much. And Derek’s about to have sex with the evil English teacher.”
“We don’t know she’s evil,” Keith finds himself arguing, shaking his head suddenly, realizing it is incredibly stupid to be debating this late at night--or really, this early in the morning.
“She is, all teachers are, and Derek has the worst taste in women.”
Absentmindedly, Keith’s fingers find Lance’s soft hair, carding through it. The gentle rhythm lulls Lance further to sleep. “Come on, let’s go to bed. It’ll be here for us in the morning.”
“Alright,” Lance finally concedes. The bed is too small for them to lay side by side, and Keith ends up acting as the little spoon as Lance drags him closer, that warmth penetrating his body, and their hands are clasped together near Keith’s chest. It’s nice. A hot breath whispers by his ear as Lance leans in closer. “Hey, do you think I’ll be an alpha someday?”
Keith’s concealed chuckle rumbles through his body. “You need a pack first.”
“I already have a pack.” In a way, it’s true. There’s Hunk, Pidge, and the occasional presence of Shiro and/or Allura; Keith’s guesses he’s fully a part of that group now as well. No longer a lone wolf, an omega. Lance nuzzles his face into Keith’s long hair, words drifting into his skin. “You know you’re part of my pack, right?”
“I do.”
“Good.” Finally, they both drift off to sleep.
“Morin’,” Lance says a few days after they started their marathon. Keith sits at one of the tables in the library, pouring over notes for an exam later in the week. Reading glasses sit on his nose as he rubs his head, already done with studying though it’s only ten o’clock in the morning.
He lifts his head to find coffee shoved in his face; the steam drifts into his nose, already rejuvenating him. As he grabs the precious beverage, Keith looks at his coffee and then back up at Lance. “You forgot something.”
Lance’s eyes light up, a smile crinkling his skin. “Sorry about that,” and he leans down to place a chaste kiss on Keith’s lips, who greedily meets him halfway, not having the patience to wait any longer.
They started dating when they had woken up tangled in each other after their big marathon weekend. Lance had opened his eyes, staring at Keith who was staring at him--he had been trying to count Lance’s freckles, not that he’d ever admit it, and lost track after twenty--and Lance kissed him. Their lips popped as he separated, Keith’s eyes widening in surprise and Lance’s flashed in worry. A golden haze from the sun shined over both of them.
He quickly apologized. “Sorry, I’m not usually impulsive; I--”
But Keith is the impulsive type so he had kissed Lance back, and that shut him up for the rest of the morning as they cuddled in bed, enjoying a lazy Sunday. The word ‘boyfriend’ didn’t pass either of their lips until later on in the evening, but it had been a simple ‘yes’ on both of their parts.
“Hey,” Keith begins drawing Lance’s attention away from his own notes, “Have you told anyone yet?”
“About what?” Lance sends him an adorably confused expression as he chews on the ends of a highlighter.
“Your wolf problem?”
Putting down the highlighter, Lance replaces it with his coffee cup, taking a small sip--Keith suspects he ordered something stupidly seasonal like pumpkin spice. “Nah, Pidge and Hunk wouldn’t believe me. They’d also ask way too many questions.”
“Oh, so like how I don’t believe you?”
“I know you do, babe. I can tell when you’re lying.”
Alright, maybe deep down inside, Keith does believe him, but he’s still not going to outright admit it. “I’ve been thinking, we should probably warn campus security about a possible feral wolf near campus.” They probably should have done this a month ago but they had been too caught up in the supernatural.
“Well, I’m not sure how necessary that is…” Lance trails off, a guilty look clouding his expression.
“What aren’t you telling me about that night?”
Absentmindedly, Lance’s index finger circles the cover of his cup for a few laps. “There were some guys at a party talking about a rumor of a wolf someone had seen in a nearby park… and I kinda wanted to go see if it was true since wolves aren’t native to this area.”
“So at night you went alone to a park to find a wolf?” Keith raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Yeah--” he pulls at the collar of his shirt “--I may have taunted it as well. I was a little drunk.”
Keith bangs his forehead on the table. “Oh my fucking God. I’m dating a complete lunatic.” He picks his head up again. “You deserved to be bitten honestly. If I was that wolf, I probably would have too.”
“Well, you can bite me whenever you want,” Lance winks.
“It’s too early for your kinks.”
Lance pouts, bottom lip jutting forward. “You’re no fun, Mr. Party Pooper.”
Two weeks of research--ie six full seasons of Teen Wolf --leave them with show hole symptoms and too many last minute essays they had to cram in late at night. Yet, those weeks brought many kisses and soft touches and a comfort of a partner Keith hadn’t known he was missing. Safe to say research was a bust--Keith still has no clue what to really expect--and as the full moon on the twenty fourth of October drew closer, he watched Lance’s anxiety increase, his leg fidgeting constantly and his eyes flickering to any window, even during the day, almost fearing the full moon would come early. Pidge and Hunk would often question the abnormal, erratic behavior, but Lance simply waved away their concerns, and a frown sat on Keith’s lips every time. He shouldn’t be going through this alone…
Well, Lance isn’t entirely alone, Keith realized late one night, his partner had only trusted him with this secret, even before they started dating, so that had to mean something.
It makes Keith happy for a moment whenever he thinks about that.
And, as it turns out, the research hadn’t been a complete waste of time as Lance apparently did take away one idea from the show.
Dumbfounded, Keith stares at the chains Lance places in his hands. They’re in Lance’s dorm room, with about a half hour to go before the moon rises. A timer has been set on Keith’s phone. Kneeling before him, as they both sit on the floor, is Lance in grungy clothes, gray sweatpants and a large blue t-shirt--it’s so baggy that it makes Lance’s body look smaller.
Keith’s gaze flickers from the heavy chains to Lance’s face. “I’m not going to chain up my boyfriend.”
“You have to,” Lance retorts, tone softening as he continues with, “I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches out to place a hand on top of Keith’s thigh, his fingers kneading into his skin. It’s a comforting gesture. Keith knows Lance means well, but with the cold chains in his hand, he can’t help but think this is all wrong.
“Where did you get these anyways?” In these final, restless moments, Keith almost wonders if Lance will even change or if this had just been one big month long prank. He’s not sure which option he wants to come true.
Lance loudly says, “That’s not important.”
“Lance!” Keith exclaims, because yes this is all very important.
His boyfriend simply shakes his head, standing up to properly move away from Keith a little, but not that far as Keith can still clearly see the blue of his eyes and the freckles on his cheeks. “Just chain me up before--ahh!”
Lance drops to his knees with an agonizing scream of pain. Bones pop and his skin contorts until he’s a strange human creature on all fours. His limbs twist in weird angles as the scream he admits is almost inhuman, but still being slightly conscious, he muffles it with his own hand in hopes no one comes knocking. As he becomes less and less human, the clothes start to tear and flutter to the ground in rags. Keith sits there dumbfounded as the darkness from the encroaching night shadows the room and the light from the full moon creates a spotlight. The chains are left forgotten.
The shift takes no more than thirty seconds, but Keith will never be able to get those images out of his mind, nor that scream.
Cautiously, Keith backs up as the wolf that has taken Lance’s place stalks forward. The creature still retains Lance’s dark blue eyes, and his fur is brown, streaked with different hues. Part of him is afraid that Lance will in fact eat him, fulfilling an earlier promise, but for some reason, Keith doesn’t run. He’s pressed up against the door, and his legs might tremble slightly, but he doesn’t run. The wolf continues to stare before creeping forward again. The claws click on the floor. Eyes shut tight, Keith waits for the pain of teeth breaking skin and sharp claws ripping him apart, but instead all he hears is a soft whine and feels a nose nuzzling into his stomach.
When he finds the courage to look, the wolf’s expression is sad as he continues to gently headbutt Keith in the stomach, nosing him with surprising intensity. A smile encompasses Keith’s face as he leans down to reach the wolf’s height. His tongue darts out across Keith’s lips--it’s insanely gross and he’ll get back at Lance for it later, even if his boyfriend has no recollection of the event, but he doesn’t care at the moment.
“You just want cuddles, don’t you?” Keith can’t help but coo, rubbing his hands through Lance’s thick, brown fur.
It’s so soft and Keith finds himself burying his face into the wolf’s warm body. He’ll have to take advantage of the pillow his boyfriend has turned into. As Keith stands, he gestures for Lance to follow him as he makes his way over to the bed. He throws back the sheets, pats the mattress, and watches with great amusement as the wolf follows his command, jumping on the bed and circling a few times before settling into a curled position near the wall.
Keith crawls in next to him, and he falls asleep to the soft, thudding heartbeat of a wolf.
When Keith wakes up, Lance’s naked body is curled into his side. The sun is fully shining through, it being about ten a.m. already, and Keith knows he has missed one of his morning classes, but he doesn’t mind. The teacher won’t take attendance anyways, and Lance is far more interesting than his English Lit class. His expression is free and relaxed, mouth slightly open as he drools on the pillow, and his hair is mussed. Keith cards a hand through Lance’s hair, leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead.
As he begins to turn away, almost ready to try to fall back asleep, he notices that Lance’s eyes are open now, staring at him with curiosity. Half of his face is squished into the pillow but Keith can tell what he’s waiting for.
So Keith decides to break the ice first. “I can’t believe I’m dating a werewolf.”
“Nice to know you truly believe me now, babe,” Lance unashamedly grins, propping his head up with his hand, elbow sinking into the foam pillow. His hand bridges the gap between them as his fingers fiddle with a lock of Keith’s hair--he must have some serious bedhead--and tucks the piece behind his ear. “I didn’t try to hurt you or anything, did I?” Concerned, his gaze begins to search Keith’s body for visible injuries.
He kisses Lance to stop his worries. “You were a perfect gentleman, uh gentlewolf.”
Relief floods his eyes before darkening slightly. “This will be what it’s like once a month for the rest of my life,” Lance says, even though it’s too early in the morning to think of these heavy topics. “I understand if you want to back out now.”
“Lance,” Keith replies as he leans his head forward until their foreheads touch and his hands snatch onto Lance’s, “I want to be with you through it all.”
He smiles, knowing it’s the truth. Keith’s heartbeat is steady after all. “Who knew you could be so sappy in the mornings.”
“Shut up, wolf boy.”
They fall back to sleep curled up together.
Their first real date ends up being on Halloween. Lance wears his fake wolf ears along with an ironic smile, and Keith has plastic vampire teeth in his mouth that pinch his gums. The walk across the brick paths of the college is quiet; the moon is out, slowly filling into its round shape as the days continue to pass, and the soft breeze welcomes them with open arms, kissing their skin with its cold embrace.
On this last day in October, with the moon bright and the sky dark and speckled with stars, Lance tells Keith, “I think I love you,” and Keith pops out his fake teeth to say the same.
Their hands, clasped together, swing between them as they continue walking, the unearthly quality of the night calling to them.