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“Lance?” Keith calls as he lets himself into his boyfriend’s apartment. “You in here?”
When he hears no reply, he shuts the door behind him. Toes off his shoes and places them on the rack at the entryway. Pulls his coat off and hangs it up in the closet. Hangs his keys on the little hooks they put up together when Lance couldn’t stop losing his keys. Drops his bag in the hallway before heading to the last door on the right.
He peeks in and finds his boyfriend, curled up in his bed and hugging a pillow. Lance’s eyes are rimmed red, his hair is sweaty and limp, his pajamas are wrinkled, and he’s staring at a spot on the wall. The TV is playing some telenovela, but Lance isn’t paying it an ounce of attention.
Keith sighs. Lance looks like a wreck. He crosses the room and kneels in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
Lance blinks a couple times, shocked. “Keith, when did you get here?” he asks, his voice rough from disuse.
“Just a few minutes ago,” he answers. “I came to check on you.”
Lance huffs and blinks a few times, his eyes filling with tears. “How’d you know?” he asks again.
Keith shrugs. “Hunk.”
His boyfriend nods, but doesn’t say anything else. He just looks back at the spot on the wall.
Realizing he’s not going to get much out of Lance, Keith figures he’s got two choices: He can leave Lance to grieve on his own, or he can stay and comfort him.
For just a moment, Keith debates which is the best choice. They’ve only been dating for a few months, but they’ve been friends for years. Granted, Keith doesn’t fully understand Lance’s loss, but does that matter? He doesn’t want to leave him to grieve his abuela alone.
Decision made, he crawls into the bed next to Lance.
“Keith, you don’t have to—” Lance protests.
“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Keith replies. “I want to be here for you.” He pulls Lance close to him, tucks his head into his neck, runs his fingers through his hair, and tangles their legs together. Keith digs through the sheets to find the remote. He changes it from the soap opera to an animated movie on one of the kids channels—Lance's usual pick when he's sad because it reminds him of his niece and nephew.
He's humming one of the songs in the movie and running his fingers through Lance's messy hair when Lance clears his throat.
"You've never," Lance starts, but his voice cracks. He tries again. "You've never called me that before."
"Mmhm?" Keith asks.
"You've never called me 'sweetheart' before," Lance says.
"Oh," Keith replies, shocked. "I can... not… if makes you—"
"I don't mind," Lance says. "I like it."
Keith smiles for what feels like the first time since Hunk texted him that Lance's grandmother had died. "Okay, sweetheart," he replies.
A moment passes before Lance speaks again. "Will you go with me? To the funeral?" he asks.
"Of course," Keith answers immediately. "Whatever you need."
Lance nods. "Right now, I just need you to hold me."
So Keith does.