Work Text:
Keith is standing on the porch staring off into the distance. He’s surrounded by familiar reddish sandy dirt, rocks and caves. The sky is gray and large, dark clouds are rolling in. He can see the lightening as it flashes in the clouds and makes long jagged streaks as it lights the sky. He inhales and leans on his elbows across the old wooden railing.
There’s humming coming from the inside, the sounds of dishes clinking, and an old radio that produces mostly static with a touch of music on a good day. But Keith smiles anyway. The person inside blew into his life just as chaotic and sudden as the desert rain storm that’s heading his way.
Sometimes the storms are destructive and terrifying, but other times, the storms come with torrential rains that wash away the dirt and grime and in it’s wake is the aftermath, clean and fresh and almost new. That was what Lance was to Keith. He was the aftermath of a destructive storm that had ripped Keith’s trust and stability to pieces. He was the cleansing after living through a grimy and dirt infested type of life. Lance was something that even Shiro couldn’t be for Keith. Sometimes you needed someone more than a brother, a lifeline in the waves constantly crashing overhead, a safe harbor, a lighthouse in the dark.
Keith moves from the railing and stands at the edge of the steps but doesn’t step off the porch. He lets out a content sigh when he feels an arm wrap around his waist and a soft kiss pressed against his temple. He can’t help but lean into the solid warmth next to him.
The wind picks up and little dust devils pop up and fade away just to pop up somewhere else. Everything goes quiet and then just as suddenly the sound of rain falling hard sounds in the distance. Lance and Keith stand side by side and watch as the wall of rain moves closer and closer. Thunder rumbles and crackles in the air but neither move from where they are standing.
Keith feels the fine mist hit his face as the storm gets closer. After the hot morning working in the scorching sun, the combination of wind and water feels refreshing. Keith blinks and inhales just as the rain reaches the small house. The drops are big and hit hard but Keith stays and tilts his head to the sky. And just like all storms in the desert it’s gone just as quick as it came.
Keith opens his eyes and turns to find Lance watching him. He’s smiling, his blue marks glowing on his cheeks and his eyes sparkle as if they hold their own flashes of lightening. He takes Keith’s breath away. And all Keith can do is pull Lance close and press their lips together. They are both wet, their clothes are sticking to their bodies, but Keith doesn’t care. He runs a hand through Lance’s hair pushing it away from his face and kisses him again and again and again. Unlike the storm their kisses are slow, soft, and languid. The buildup is gradual, their wet skin from the rain keeping the heat between them from becoming a full-fledged fire. Keith savors every touch of fingertips, he drowns in the sound of Lance’s soft moans, he drinks in the taste of rain on Lance’s skin as he kisses along his jaw and down his neck.
Keith works his lips back to Lance’s mouth and slowly pulls back. Their eyes lock and Keith knows, he knows, oh how he knows as he looks into those ocean blue eyes. He sees the waves crashing in those eyes, he feels the electricity as the lightening sparks between them, there’s another storm coming. And Keith does not run for cover. He runs head first into the storm that is Lance. It’s a storm that will keep them both awake all night in a tangle of limbs and heated skin and Keith will gladly continue to face that storm every day for the rest of his life.