Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Sticky Situation
On a day like any other, Keith and Lance are training in the gym. Keith is actually working out, trying to block out the annoying Lance's stupid chattering, but Lance is being his usual extroverted self and keeps blabbing and blabbing about how awesome he is and how hot this girl or that girl is. His conversation just keeps taking unexpected turns and his arm movements get more and more dumb until he actually ends up hitting the zero-gravity button on the wall he was leaning on.
As soon as that happens both him and Keith, as well as all of the equipment left out in the room, gets lifted into the air.
Keith has had it.
"You idiot! Now look what you've done!"
Yelling an angry threat at Lance, he grabs a small pounded weight and flings it at him. This pushes Keith back towards the large weight container behind him and he takes the opportunity to grab a hold of the side for balance.
Lance barely evades being hit in the head with the weight but manages to grab it as it passes over his head. The weights momentum, although very weak, gently pulls him in the opposite direction of Keith. Seeing that Keith now has access to a lot more artillery he mutters just barely enough for Keith to hear.
"Oh, it’s on."
Lance, slowly gliding towards the wall behind him, throws his weight at Keith. The small weight hurtles towards Keith as Lance gets pushed even further towards the wall behind him. While Keith is distracted by the oncoming projectile, Lance braces himself against the wall and pushes himself off sailing towards Keith so he can steal some ammo.
Keith had just enough time to launch another attack at Lance before the bastard came hurtling towards him but he missed. Just as Lance crashes explosively into both Keith and the container, the weight Keith threw slams into the zero-gravity control panel, immediately turning the artificial gravity back on.
Everything came crashing towards the ground at once. Both Keith and Lance had fallen into the container midair but as everything fell their positions flipped.
"Lance look out!"
Just before they hit the floor Keith braced himself against Lance tucking his comrade's head to his chest with his right arm and holding on to his shirt with his left. Lance grabbed hold of Keith too, supporting his friend's back. The container flipped over on top of them and everything else collapsed on top of the box in one big messy pile.
After a few groans of pain and recuperation, the boys untangled themselves.
"Ugh, are you okay Lance?" Keith asked.
"Uck... Yea I guess so. You're squishing me," Lance responded.
"Well, there's not much I can do about that when you're crushing my arm under your back."
"Oh, so that's what felt so uneven," Lance mused as he lifted himself off of Keith's arm.
It was a bit of a tradeoff. If Keith wanted his arm back the only thing Lance could do was arch his back but the space, they found themselves stuck in was so small that while he did that, Keith's chest was pressed up into the roof of the container making it very hard to breath.
After Keith's arm was free the two tried to move around. However, several fruitless and uncomfortable attempts to lift the heavy container off of them made them both come to the mortifying conclusion that they were stuck, together, Keith jammed on top, Lance squished underneath him, in an incredibly cramped space they couldn't escape from.
"Aw, nice going Keith," Lance moaned.
"Me? You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place!" Keith angrily shot back.
They squirmed around a bit more trying with all their might to lift the heavy container off of them. Their efforts were to no avail. What was worse Lance's leg slipped and accidentally kneed Keith in the groin.
"AUGH!!! What was that for?" Keith yelled out in pain.
"Woops sorry man, it was an accident! But can you keep your voice down your screaming in my ear," Lance replied sheepishly.
His response earned him an intentionally kick to the groin by Keith.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH! WHAT THE HELL KEITH? THAT HURT!" Lance cried out at the top of his lungs.
the two started fighting, flailing their arms at each other as much as they could in this cramped space. Lance landed a couple solid blows to Keith's face and sides and Keith bashed Lance's nose as well as making some impressive cuts and bruises on his cheeks and jaw.
While the two brawled Pidge happened to walk by the entrance to the gym. Pidge was about to enter but after hearing the weird moaning and groaning and bumping and banging, she decided it might not be the best time to drop in. It was a weirdly non private place to do things but honestly, she figured Keith was the one who didn't want to leave the gym, his second bedroom. With both a sly proudness for Lance and a queasy feeling of disgust, she left the two to their "training".
The fight only stopped when Keith pinned both of Lance's arms down behind his head and put his legs in double leg locks.
"Enough!” Keith said. “All this fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. We're trapped in this tiny space with barely any room to breathe. Let's just calm down and pretend not to hate each other for two seconds so we can figure this out."
With a defeated "Humph," Lance relaxed his arms and Keith let go. They were both panting heavily as they thought. The tiny space had become very humid from the body heat let off from their fight.
"Well, luckily this thing has tiny air holes in the metal... Why is that?"
"It’s so the weights can air out after being put away. It keeps them fresh."
"Oh yeah, makes sense. Wouldn't want them all stunk up by your disgusting sweat after all the intense training you do."
"Shut up, I do not stink."
"Uh yeah, you totally do! In fact, you smell so bad my eyes are watering just from your stench right now!"
Warm sweat slid silently off of Keith's hair and fell onto Lance's face.
"AGH! Ew! Your sweat just dripped on me. That's disgusting," Lance started rubbing sweat off his forehead.
"You sure it’s not your own stench that's making you cry?" Keith said not looking at him.
"I'm not crying! Plus, I just took a shower before coming in here earlier. If you want proof just ask Pidge--" An idea suddenly struck him, "Hey wait a minute! I told Pidge I was going to the gym to work out. Hah! Problem solved, Pidge will come in here soon to check on me and then we'll be saved. Don't worry Keith, Lance has got everything under control," Lance leaned back with a triumphant smile on his face.
"Oh yeah? And how long is it gonna take for Pidge to realize we're not still training?" Keith countered mater-of-factly.
The realization sunk in Lance's mind as quickly as his brilliant plan. His eyes shot open in shock and he immediately started shouting Pidge's name.
"PIDGE! PIDGE! HELP! SOMEONE HELP! SHIRO! HUNK! PRINCESS ALLURA! ANYONE! WE'RE IN HERE!"
Keith covered his ears, "Stop yelling no one can hear you through the walls."
"Well, it's better than being sitting ducks!"
"No, it's not," Keith sighed. "It's just more unpleasant." He had been holding himself in a kind of push up position above Lance for some time now allowing for as much space between the two as possible but his arms started shaking under the pressure. Accepting this unfortunate situation, he decided to relax his body on top of Lance letting his arms flop to his sided.
Lance tensed underneath a heavy Keith. He'd never realized how much Keith actually weighed until now. It wasn't enough to completely suffocate him but just the thought of Keith laying on top of him made his stomach flutter. He didn't know why but he felt like the space had become even hotter than before.
"Hey K-Keith, what are you doing?" He spluttered.
"Sh-shut up. My arms got tired okay? Let's just wait till someone finds us and hope it's soon."
Keith thought the cramped space was getting a lot warmer too.
The space really was quite a tight fit. The length was only about six feet and the width only about two. There wasn't a lot of depth to the container either. It was just enough for the two of them to lay on top of each other with a couple inches of breathing room. The problem was if they both breathed in at the same time, they'd crush each other against the ceiling and floor. Several complaints were thrown around about this. The other problem was how close their knees where to each other's groins. Neither wanted to straddle the other or be straddled by the other so they compromised with one leg on either side.
After about five awkward minutes and a lot of brainstorming, both out loud, Lance, and internally, Keith, an exasperated and incredibly annoyed Keith finally thought of a solution to their problem after his fingers brushed against something hard and rectangular in his pant pocket.
"Oh, I got it!"
"Hm? Got what?"
"My phone. I can contact someone to get us out."
"What? You had your phone on you this whole time?"
"Lance, it's been five minutes."
"That's a long time!"
Keith started fumbling with the pocket trying to get his phone. There wasn't much room to move his arm so it was difficult but he managed to get a hold of a corner. Slowly and meticulously, he slipped it out of his pocket. Still only holding on to it with two fingers it nearly slipped from his grasp. He twitched quickly to recapture it but as he did his knee slid and knocked Lance in the groin again. Lance jumped in pain which resulted in Keith being hit in the groin as well and forced up against the ceiling, knocking the wind out of him. The phone slid out of his hand and fell to the bottom of the container with a clatter near their feet. There was no way they were getting it back now.
"Damn it!" Keith heaved.
"Oh Quiznack!" Lance groaned.
They both lay still, panting and crestfallen.
"Now what?" Lance asked.
"I don't know," Keith answered defeated.
There was a long moment of silence. Lance felt the pressure of Keith's body weighing down on him, his body heat cooking his torso. He heard the easy, rhythmic beating of his heart and his slow, calm breaths of sweaty, stuffy air. Lance felt like he was going to die of heat stroke. He had the sudden, urge to rip off all his clothes. He couldn't do it himself though because the zipper on his shirt was in the back. The next thought that crossed his mind made his heart pound and his body temperature increase even more. His cheeks flushed violently and it wasn't only because of the sweltering temperature. Lance felt like he was about to faint.
With his head resting on Lance's pecks, Keith could hear his quickly pounding heartbeat. He could feel his breath fall shallow and the heat radiate off of his warm body. He was a lanky beanpole but, oddly enough, his chest was quite comfortable. Lance doesn't work out nearly as much as himself but he does pack in some muscle. Keith didn't know why these thoughts were occupying his mind at the moment. Maybe it was because he was bored and there wasn't much else to do. Or maybe he was self-consciously comparing himself to Lance... or... was it something else? Keith pushed the vexatious thoughts from his head.
It was getting pretty hot in the cramped space and a little stiffening. His neck felt tight so he pushed himself up onto his arms again to stretch his neck. He looked back down at Lance to see how he was holding up. He was concerned to see how flushed and sweaty his comrade had become.
"Are you alright Lance?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh, y-yea of course. Totally! What made you think otherwise?" he started panting.
Keith analyzed him quietly for a minute before answering.
"Well, you don't look well," Keith persisted.
"S-stop looking at me like I'm a wounded animal. I said I'm alright," He was still panting.
After a moment Keith shrugged and dropped his head.
"Well, if you say so."
There was a short pause and then Lance's cheeks flushed even redder until his whole face looked like a tomato.
"Um... Ah, I can't take it anymore! Keith, you need to take off my shirt."
Keith starred at Lance incredulous. His face scrunched up in an unsettled expression.
"I— what?" he stammered.
Lance back tracked quickly, "Gah! I m-mean do you mind helping me unzip my s-shirt I'm overheating. I think I'm going to die of heatstroke or something. O-okay?" His face flushed bright red.
"Oh uh, s-sure hang on..." Keith responded a bit flustered.
He lowered himself back down nervously so he could free his hands again.
"Um, you're going to have to lift up so I can get under -- I mean -- get my arms under, your back..."
"R-right. N-no problem..."
Lance hesitantly arched up his back which pushed Keith up against the ceiling again. With a bit of difficulty Keith was able to unzip the shirt and helped him pull it off of his arms. Lance breathed a heavy sigh of relief as his body cooled ever so slightly.
"Thanks man."
Keith stayed braced up by his arms and tried not to looked at Lance's exposed chest.
This is so awkward... can't someone come find us already?
Keith thought to himself. More sweat dripped down from his neck and hair onto Lance.
"Aw man, you're so gross stop sweating on me, jeez..." Lance complained.
Lance looked up at Keith while he used one of his shirt sleeves to wipe off his chest. Even though he hadn't said anything, his complexion gave him away. Keith looked like he was about to collapse from exhaustion too.
"You sure you're not overheating too?" Lance asked.
"I'm fine," Keith croaked.
"C'mon man it's okay we're both dudes, just take your shirt off," Lance started messing with his feet. "I'm taking my shoes off too. It'll help regulate body heat. Maybe it won't be so hot in here."
"I said I'm good," Keith replied feebly.
"Ugh, you’re so stubborn," Lance grumbled.
He grabbed the ends of Keith's t-shirt and started pulling it up towards his head.
"W-wha— Lance! What are you—? Stop it," Keith resisted.
"Oh, quit your whining."
He hiked the shirt up to his armpits but Keith grabbed hold of one of his hands. Unbalanced, he slammed his shoulder into the side of the container and let out a grunt.
"Keith relax it's a shirt! What's the big deal? You can use it as a sweat rag after you get it off."
Lance glared up at Keith with his bright blue eyes. After a moment’s pause, Keith complied and let him take his shirt off over his head.
Lance was right, wasn't he? It's just a shirt and we’re both guys. Why was he getting so worked up about it?
He was just as lanky in figure as Lance except for a bit more muscle tone on his abs and biceps. Lance caught himself sizing him up and blinked the thoughts from his mind. He threw the shirt back in Keith's face.
"There now take your boots off too. It'll help the both of us. Well, except for your stinky feet smell."
"My feet don't stink! Shut up already. You think you smell like strawberries and coconuts?"
"Well, that is the scent of my shampoo so, yeah?"
"Well, it's a toxic and artificial smell so stop using it."
"Ugh," Lance gasped, "I'll have you know that that sent is one hundred percent a lady killer. A Lance original too. You don't smell anyone else on board with that kinda fragrance," He explained coolly.
"It reeks. Everyone knows your about to walk into a room because we can smell you coming in from the hallway."
"Yes exactly, I can assert my refreshing, tropical presence even before you see me!"
"Refreshing?"
Lance smiled contently. Keith muttered a whatever and lay himself back down. He calmed down again, all the confusing embarrassment gone after their usual bantering relaxed his mind. Keith yawned; it was getting late he supposed. He'd started working out about an hour before curfew.
It couldn't have been a whole hour already could it?
He thought.
Surely someone would come soon though.
He listened to Lance's soft breathing underneath him and the quick beating of his heart. The lulling rhythm soon put him to sleep.
Keith was having a bad dream. His dreams almost always had something to do with running or fighting. This time wasn't any different. He moved around in his sleep, squeezing the sides of a snoring Lance. That wasn't what woke him up however.
Keith's leg sharply shot out and nudged Lance in the groin, again. In pain, Lance woke up and started cursing at Keith.
"What the quiznack Keith? Stop kicking me in the groin!"
Keith drowsily awoke, "Uh, wh-wha what? Where am I?"
"You’re in a container with me, loser. Don't you remember? And you just kicked me in the balls again. What have I ever done to you?"
"Sorry Lance," Keith apologized. He rubbed his eyes. Lance noticed tiny tears had formed at the corners.
"Hey are you crying? What were you dreaming about?"
"I... don't remember... and I'm not crying. It’s just sleepy eyes got it? I'm fine," He tried to get comfortable again. "Sorry about kicking you just go back to sleep."
"Uh, uh, nope I'm not risking the chances of you kicking me again."
"What?"
Lance pulled his legs together between Keith's to protect himself and then proceeded to hook his lower legs around Keith's, firmly holding them in place.
"Lance! What are you doing?" Keith freaked out.
"It's called covering my bases. Now you can't move your legs all willy nilly."
"Get off of me," Keith struggles to free his legs.
"Mm, mm, not budging," Lance reassured him. He felt oddly content with himself and pulled Keith back down on top of him. "Night, night Keith," He teased as he pretended to fall back asleep.
Keith froze up. Lance had both his legs around him and his arm. He wanted to punch the guy in the face but some small voice in the back of his head was screaming a different toon. Lance seemed to be a lot stronger than Keith gave him credit for. He just yanked him down like he was an uncooperative child. Not only that but his hooks were in pretty good. He tried to move again but could only shift ever so slightly.
For a guy who's also fast asleep...
For some reason Keith felt something warm and fuzzy tugging at his nerves. He didn't know why but he felt attracted to the idea of falling asleep in Lance's arms. It was so odd. Didn't he hate this guy? This overly cocky womanizer with a terrible sense of humor. This annoying and obnoxious extrovert who he wanted to punch in the face so badly. Why did he feel like he didn't care how long they stayed in this box? Maybe his brain was just foggy because he wanted to go back to sleep. He lay his head back down blankly on Lance's chest and fell asleep.
---
Lance is always looking at beautiful women trying to catch himself a lucky date. He knows he loves girls but recently, or maybe not too recently, he's caught himself looking at some guys the same way. What he didn't understand though was why being trapped in this box with Keith didn't make him want to die. Even though he would never admit it out loud, he thought to himself as he felt Keith slowly calmed his tense muscled and relaxed into his arms, his breathing calm and relaxing.
This is as much action as I'm ever gonna get and it's not even with a beautiful lady. Not only that, but Keith of all people. This smelly emo mullet man with a short temper. I don't even like him. I wanna slap that dumb 'oh woah is me' expression right off his face.
After a few minutes of stewing Lance drifted off into a seemingly wonderful, romantic dream.
Keith was woken by a tight feeling around his neck and torso. Actually, his whole body felt kinda tight. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position but whatever was holding him just tightened its grip. He heard a soft moan in his ear and then he felt thin and bony fingers crawl their way across his neck and gripped a decent chunk of his hair. Keith woke up in shock. He lifted himself away but couldn't shake it off.
It was Lance.
Lance had one arm wrapped firmly around the middle of his back and the other was tangled up in his mullet. He was still asleep but his leg locks were still firm as well.
"Urg, Lance. Wake up," Keith whispered.
Instead, Lance slowly spread his legs so that Keith's were shoved up against the walls of the box. Keith could feel his bulge pressed up against his own. Flustered, Keith grabbed Lance's shoulder and shook him.
"Lance, come on what's going on? W-wake up!" He hissed.
Lance moaned again and pulled tighter on Keith's waist.
What is he dreaming about?
"Lance, S-stop!" He hissed again.
He didn't know why he was being so gentle about waking him up. Maybe it's because he was too tired to deal with Lance's obnoxious voice or maybe he didn't want Lance to wake up in this embarrassing situation. A small part of him, somewhere buried deep down felt almost excited by what was happening. That part of him didn't want to ruin the moment.
Lance snorted and pulled on Keith mullet.
"Keith..." he muttered softly.
Keith gasped and his heart skipped a beat.
What did he just say?
He moaned again and this time he ever so slightly lifted his hips pressing his, now hard, bulge against Keith's.
"Ah!" Keith gasped and his heart started racing. A million questions flew through his head at once.
What should I do? What is this? What is he thinking? Why am I not stopping him? Is— is he having a dream about me? This can't be happening!
He was frozen in place he didn't know what to do. Lance kept on tugging gently at his hair.
"Mm, Keith... love..."
What?
Lance arched his back pressing Keith up against the ceiling. Keith braced one arm against the floor and held onto his shoulder with the other.
"L-Lance..." he muttered.
Lance lifted his head up towards Keith's mouth. Almost instinctively Keith brought his hand over Lance's mouth. He was so embarrassed. He wanted it all to stop but at the same time he didn't. It didn't make sense. Lance kept advancing and his head was gingerly caressing Keith's neck.
"Lance... p-please... w-wake up..." Keith pleaded.
He held on to Lance’s mouth and turned his head up but he couldn't do much else. By some miracle, or because his breathing was being impaired by Keith's hand, Lance started to relax his advancement and wake up. He groaned and blinked trying to make sense of his surroundings.
What he saw was an incredibly flustered and beat red Keith pressed up against the ceiling looking away. His brows were furrowed and his eyes closed. But weren't they just having...?
Oh my god. No, I did not just... ohhh quiznack.
He felt his grasp around Keith's waist and hair. He felt if his legs pinning Keith's against the walls. He felt Keith holding down his hand across his mouth.
What was I about to do?
A fragment from his dream came back to him. Keith and him making out in bed.
"Wah!" Lance exclaimed as he let go of Keith.
Keith pulled away as far as he could, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.
"What was I? Ah, I— sorry Keith! I didn't mean—" Lance stumbled over his words.
Keith didn't respond. He didn't look at Lance. He didn't know what to say or what to make of what just happened. He just wanted out; he wanted this torture to end. He punched Lance in the face.
"Ouch..."
They heard a door open nearby.
"Lance? Keith? Are you guys in here?"
It was Pidge!
"Oh my god! PIDGE! PIDGE, WE'RE IN HERE! HELP US WE'RE STUCK!" Lance yelled.
"What? You're under that huge pile of equipment?"
"YEA, HURRY!"
"Okay just hang on I'm getting help!"
Pidge brought Shiro and Hunk and they all started pulling pieces of equipment off from the pile. When they finally got the container open to their surprise, they found a hot sweaty Keith laying on top of an equally hot and sweaty Lance, both shirtless with messed up faces.
Keith immediately sat up his spine cracking as he grabbed his boots and phone. He darted out of the gym before anyone could ask anything.
Everyone starred at Lance for an explanation.
“I—It’s not what it looks like!” He stammered.
“What does it look like, Lance?” Pidge teased.
Lance sighed and stretched his sore body.
"Lance, what happened to you guys?" Shiro asked.
"Ah, well, we were training and then I accidentally hit the zero-gravity consul on the wall and everything got lifted into the air. Then Keith and I started throwing weights at each other and I launched myself at Keith and he launched a weight at me and it misses and hit the consul and then everything fell on top of us."
"Did you hit each other with the weights? Your faces are all cut and bruised," Hunk asked with concern.
"Nah, we got into a fight shortly after getting trapped."
"Wait a minute... you guys were in there since yesterday's training?" Pidge asked incredulously.
"What? What time is it? How long have we been in there?" Lance asked in shock.
"W-well, if you said you were trapped while you were training then that was around eight thirty last night. It's eight in the morning right now, you guys weren't at breakfast so we've been looking for you."
"So, we were trapped in there together for twelve hours?!"
"Ah jeez, how did you two survive that long?" Hunk commented comically.
Everyone exchanged impressed glances.
"Well, that's one hell of a bonding exercise," Shiro concluded.
Lance got up and stretched, glimpsing towards the door Keith had run out of.
“This isn’t funny guys,” Lance said before rushing out of the room himself.