Work Text:
When Lance rolls over in the middle of the night and finds his fiancé is not in bed with him, he is decidedly worried but not surprised. He blinks a few times to make his eyes adjust to the darkness before settling on the blue glow coming from their kitchen. With a sigh, he climbs out of bed and grabs his robe off the hook on the back of the door before going to hunt down Keith.
Unsurprisingly, Keith is hunched over his laptop, the glow from the screen illuminating his scrunched eyebrows, narrowed eyes behind glasses, and his unruly hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail. He doesn’t even register Lance coming into the room.
“Babe?” he asks quietly, his voice rough with sleep.
Keith’s head pops up, and he looks shocked. “Lance? What’re you doing up?” Keith asks.
Lance shrugs as he makes his way across the room to Keith. He flaps his hand at Keith, a hand gesture that says, ‘Scoot your chair back so I can sit in your lap.’ Keith understands it and pushes back from the table just in time to accept a lapful of Lance. He wraps his arms around Keith’s shoulders and rests his head against Keith’s.
Once he’s settled with Keith’s arms around his waist, he says, “Can’t sleep without you.”
Keith winces. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says before bringing a hand up to run his fingers through Lance’s hair.
“What are you doing up?” Lance asks.
“I was just thinking how my theory needed to be restructured,” Keith replies.
“In the middle of the night?”
“You know how my ideas get. If I don’t do something about them right then, I lose them.”
“Which is why we got you the notebook for the bedside table.”
Keith shrugs. “I’m almost done,” he says.
Lance sighs. “This thesis is gonna kill both of us.”
He pulls back from Keith but keeps his arms around him.
“I’m really sorry, Lance,” Keith says again.
Lance shakes his head. “Work on it for a few more minutes,” he replies as he stands up from Keith’s lap. He leans down and drops a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Keith squeezes his hand once more before focusing on the screen again.
Lance heads into the kitchen and digs in the freezer for the secret ice cream and scoops a bowl for them to share. He pours them a glass of red wine before heading back to the table. He sets the bowl and glass on the table before pulling the laptop out of Keith’s hands.
“You okay if I save this for the night?” he asks. Keith nods once, so Lance saves the document (multiple times because he also lives in fear of parts of Keith’s thesis disappearing) and closes the computer. Then, he plops down in Keith’s lap again.
“Here,” he says as he scoops up a bite of ice cream. “Relax, okay? I got you.”
Keith eats the bite that Lance feeds him and then rests his head against Lance’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lance,” he whispers.
Lance tuts quietly before bringing Keith’s gaze up to meet his. “You’re not going to find out, okay? I’m here for you.” He runs his fingers through Keith’s hair. “Plus, without you, I’d never sleep well.”
Behind his glasses, Keith blinks a few times. Then, he pulls Lance down for a firm kiss. He breaks away briefly. “I love you,” he says.
Lance kisses him again. “I love you, too,” he replies.
In the dim light of the kitchen, they eat the ice cream and drink the wine. Once they’re done, Lance pulls Keith to bed with him. Takes his glasses off and places them on the bedside table. Carefully pulls Keith's hair out of its messy ponytail and runs his fingers through the dark locks. Kisses him hard again and again and again. Wraps his fiancé up in his arms. Hums an old, Spanish lullaby until Keith’s breathing evens out.
Then, and only then, can Lance rest easy.