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They’re Greys.
Honest-to-god GREYS.
Lance stares at the bulbous heads of the people that Team Voltron had just liberated from Galra clutches. Pidge looks like she’s just about to fall over from excitement, Keith looks…pretty much like usual, honestly, but there IS some sort of dazzle in his eyes, like he’s starstruck in the presence of these short, bulgy-eyed folk.
“Thank you again, paladins of Voltron, for assisting in our fight against the Galra forces. We are humbled to be in your presence.”
Lance can’t believe this. Even their VOICES are a stereotype, nasally and nerdy. He half-expects the next words out of the Delxian king’s mouth to be “Bleep blorp surrender now, Earthling”.
“Happy to help, your Majesty,” Shiro says warmly, calm and collected as ever, though there IS the ever-so-slight twist to his polite smile that tells Lance he’s probably on the same page as the other paladins.
Pidge raises her hand, practically bouncing on her heels. “Excuse me, your Highness, may I ask if your people have ever been near the Milky Way galaxy? First left past Andromeda?”
The king strokes his giant grey head with pudgy wide-tipped fingers and hums, nearly knocking his comically small crown askew and Lance almost bursts. Almost.
“I do not recognize those denominations, but if you should like, I can summon a wise historian of ours to give a brief history of our mighty people.”
“I would love to, uh…probe them,” Pidge replies flatly, already sneaking her tablet out for photos, “intellectually, of course.” Hunk’s composure starts to crack, Shiro just looks disappointed, Allura and Coran seem politely confused. Keith remains stone-faced.
“You should come visit our own home planet sometime,” Lance pipes up, straining against laughter, “we could take you to our leader.”
Hunk snorts and quickly disguises it as a cough. Pidge shoves her face in her tablet to hide her grin, even Keith tips his head down and bites his lip to fight a bark of laughter. Not that Lance was watching for it or anything. A little spark of pride blooms anyway.
“A fantastic idea! Our people shall be united. We have a gift to bestow upon you, paladins, for your bravery and honor! Smork, unveil your masterpiece!”
The group’s attention is snapped to a haughty-looking Delxian who whips a length of shimmering silver fabric off of an array of…statues. Misshapen, stocky, plaster depictions of each of the paladins, plus one for Allura and Coran. Lance wants to squeeze his eyes shut because he just KNOWS this is going to be the thing that kills him, he’s going to die here, but he can’t for the life of him stop staring. Their faces are all far too small and flat for their heads, eye whites smeared so wide that they all have matching freaky stares. The armor looks alright, if not for the wildly varying proportions of each statue’s body, like the artist was learning how humans were shaped on the go. Lance hears choking noises, a flurry of camera clicks, and a tense steadying breath sucked through teeth as the other paladins behold the sight.
“A tribute to the paladins of Voltron that will stand for generations to come! A shining beacon of light to guide us through the dark times!” the king cries, rousing a hearty cheer from the bobbing crowd behind him.
“MY, what stunning likenesses! Your artistry is superb,” Allura says kindly, clapping her hands together with the sharpness she can’t express vocally. The paladins know what it means: get your shit together NOW or ELSE. “Your gift is eternally appreciated. We would all love to stay longer, but forming Voltron calls for well-rested bodies and minds, so we must retire for the evening. Thank you again, we look forward to having you as an ally in the Voltron Coalition.”
-
They make it just past the hangar doors and stand in stunned silence until Lance meets Pidge’s eye. That’s what does it. Lance’s knees weaken and give out as he heaves with laughter, Pidge no better off in a heap next to him. Hunk has to slide down the wall as tears roll down his cheeks, his laughter silent but debilitating. Keith has his face scrunched in his hands, shoulders shaking. Even Shiro looks close to the edge, face bright red.
“Hey, this isn’t very nice, guys. They went through a lot of trouble to make those for us and-”
He breaks as soon as Pidge zooms in on statue-Shiro with her tablet, eyebrows taking up half its forehead and mouth like a displeased bullfrog’s. Shiro turns and bows his head, snickering.
Lance practically screeches with laughter, dragging himself across the floor to paw at Pidge’s tablet screen. “Wait, wait, wait, go back to Coran!! Look at his- HIS LEEEEGS!!!”
“STOP, my chest- I can’t BREATHE,” Hunk sobs, staggering to the door. “I have to leave, I can’t- I have to go!”
Allura and Coran exchange a look, and the Princess lets a smile escape, perhaps deciding that this is reward enough for a hard won battle. She giggles to herself as she exits, no doubt remembering the copious amount of sparkling gaudy makeup the artist had painted onto her likeness. Coran follows her out of the hangar, seeming extremely conscious of his gait.
Keith crouches down to where the green and blue paladins are sprawled out, his face ruddy. “Hold on, let me see…Holy shit, Lance, it looks just LIKE you! They got the nose exactly right!”
Lance weakly reaches up to swat at Keith’s armored leg. “S-Shut the HELL up, dude!!”
“Language,” Shiro chides as his own laughter subsides and he makes to leave. “Good job out there today, team.”
“Bye dad~” Pidge sing-songs as she flips through more photos of the sculptures.
“Man, they really didn’t even get CLOSE, huh?” Lance wheezes, tapping to zoom in on statue-Keith’s face. “Yours is especially bad, Keith, YIKES, what a mug!!”
“So you admit it?” Pidge hums, face schooling itself into the expression that means ‘I know I’m smart enough to figure out every one of your secrets so don’t even try’.
“Admit what?”
“That Keith’s not ugly?”
Lance’s brain reels and halts. He chances a look up at Keith, whose still-red face is now sporting a look of…panic? Discomfort? Vulnerability? Something little but loud inside Lance begs him not to completely fuck this up.
Okay, real talk, here’s the deal: Keith doesn’t really even piss Lance off anymore. Yeah, yeah, team bonding, patience yields focus, some third Shiro-ism, but the crux of this change of heart hadn’t come from the shared meals, the stealth missions, or even the Altean movie nights in the lounge. The thing was, Lance had started watching . Listening, too. One day after a particularly tough spar Keith had clapped him on the back, his fingers tracing down Lance’s arm by accident as he walked past. It may have as well been a match striking on sandpaper, the reaction it caused. Suddenly everything Keith did and said was thrown into sharp focus, and Lance gained a bit more understanding of how Keith operated. He wasn’t as aggressive and cold as Lance originally had thought. He was blunt, sure, but that rarely came from a place of malice. He simply called things how he saw them, and that just so happened to include the times that Lance was making a stupid decision. Which was…not uncommon. Lance knows the set of his shoulders when he’s about to bring up bad news, knows the fidgeting of his hands when he doesn’t have his knife to fiddle with, knows that the green, natural planets are his favorite, and knows the quiet warmth he exudes on team game nights as he just soaks in the atmosphere. Lance files these bits of information about Keith away like keepsakes, important notes for…something. It’s one of those situations where you can just FEEL that you’re going to need to know it, for some cosmic instinctual reason. There’s been a new bubbling feeling inside Lance lately. It kind of freaks him out. If he thinks about it too hard it feels like he’s going to get up and run away, which Keith doesn’t need, god knows.
“Um. Well. I guess from a purely objective standpoint, hypothetically of course, he’s not…terrible to look at.”
A beat of silence. Keith’s expression has become guarded again, but not mad. Maybe a bit puzzled, but Lance can take that.
“Umm…anyway, what was the artist’s name? I want to immortalize that guy with our own statue in the castle.”
Pidge snorts and lets her head fall back into her crossed arms.
“It was fucking…Smork.”
A shaky depiction of a snooty grey alien with a beret and thin twirly mustache decorates the fridge from then on.
-
“Well, Princess, I’m here! What are your other two wishes?”
Everyone in the common room groaned.
“Lance, you know I love you, but that might have been your worst one yet,” Hunk piped up from his seat, otherwise absorbed in his coding project.
Lance hopped down into the sunken couch area, stretching out his long legs before lounging back into the cushions. “I’m a charmer, sorry-not-sorry.”
“Lance, I remind you once again, I’m flattered, but it’s going to happen,” Allura calmly states with a smile, flipping her miniature hologram of the surrounding galaxies off.
“Ouch.”
“Oh, stuff it, Pidge!”
For once, Keith joins in the conversation without being dragged by Shiro to participate. “I don’t really get pickup lines. It’s pretty much just telling a joke, how is that supposed to get someone to like you?”
“Keith, Keith, Keith. My sweet buttery biscuit. A good pickup line is hand-chosen to fit the situation, the vibe and the person you’re trying to talk to. It breaks the ice and shows the other person you’re hilarious and charming and-”
“I still don’t see the point. Once the line is over, what is the other person even supposed to say?”
“Well, if the line is good enough, talking won’t be necessary~”
Another groan erupts.
“Why not just…tell them something you like about them? Be direct?”
“Please, my lines could beat a simple compliment any day!”
“Sure, I’ll believe it when I hear it,” Keith challenges, leaning back into the bench.
“Are they about to get into a flirting battle…?” Pidge says in disbelief, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I guess we are now!” Lance decides, shimmying off the couch to the center table as if getting prepared for an arm wrestling match.
Keith watches, shrugs, then slides down to an opposing position. Staring into Keith’s eyes from across the table has Lance suddenly nervous. Time to do what he does best: overcompensate! He pushes his hair back, leans an elbow on the table, and works up his best smolder.
“Have you ever been arrested? Because it must be illegal to look that good.”
“Booo,” jeers Pidge from the couches. Hunk claps lightly.
Keith doesn’t even blink. All he does is lean a bit closer and level his gaze.
“I think you have really pretty eyes.”
… Oh . It’s simple. It’s over-used. But Keith’s complete earnesty makes Lance blush from head to toe, even though the line’s aimed at a hypothetical girl and not him. Surely.
“H-hahah, wow, okay, lame much?” Lance stammers, averting his face in hopes that Keith won’t see just how much he’s affected.
“I think Keith won that round,” Shiro chirps. Biased bastard.
“What?? That’s nothing! I got a million of these bad boys in the holster. Come on, round two!!”
Lance really gets into character this time. Takes Keith in slowly, eyes sliding over strong shoulders and down to trim waist, back up to that arresting indigo gaze- OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH CHARACTER.
“Even in zero gravity, I’d still fall for you.”
Hunk purses his lips and nods, impressed, which is honestly not bad as far as reviews have gone so far.
Keith does bite back a smile, which makes something inside Lance feel all loose and jittery.
“You’re very funny and charming. I really like hearing you laugh.”
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck he’s gotta be pulling some kind of trick. Some kind of screwed-up subliminal hypnosis that they only teach to red paladins. How else would KEITH of all people have Lance practically twirling his hair and kicking his feet? Lance squirms under Keith’s suddenly soft eyes.
“H-how are you gonna get a girl with that one, Mullet? Bore her into your arms? Ha ha ha!!!!!”
Keith shoots a Look over Lance’s shoulder, towards Shiro. He hears Shiro snicker. They’re LAUGHING at him?? Rude.
The glance at Shiro seems to remind Keith that they’re not alone in the room. Hunk, Pidge, and Allura, all audience to the…whatever-this-is going down. It’s Keith’s turn to flush red, shaking his dark bangs in front of his eyes.
“Whatever, Lance. You win, okay?”
“Hey, what? No, We’re tied!! Best two out of three!”
Keith sighs, gaze suddenly skittering all over the room, anywhere but at him.
“Whatever, just say it and get it over with…”
Here it comes. Time for the big finisher. Drumroll please…
Keith meets his eye, deep indigo irises nearly eclipsed by pupils black as the space outside. Lance feels himself talking before he can fully prepare his clumsy tongue.
“Are you uh…..purple……?”
…
Keith huffs a laugh, disbelieving. “...purple?”
“No, wait, I meant to say something about red and blue mixing, aughhh! You threw me off!”
Lance’s explanations are swallowed up by the uproarious laughter from the surrounding paladins (and princess, mortifyingly).
Keith’s expression turned to relief, and maybe just a little bit smug. “Sorry, loverboy, you can’t win ‘em all.”
With his face on the table, Lance can easily hide how embarrassingly hard the nickname makes him blush.
-
“Really?”
“Uh, no?”
“Not EVER?”
“I already told you, no, I haven’t. What’s the big deal?”
Lance sighs dramatically and drops himself at the foot of Keith’s bed. “I’m trying to have some bro time! Team bonding! But I can’t TALK about it if you’ve never DONE it! Way to ruin the vibe.”
“Team bonding...talking about kissing?”
“Well yeah, it’s better than the hell that Shiro’s been putting us through lately.”
It’s true, Keith could only take so many rounds of mind-melding with the group before it started to feel like he would never have a private thought again. Most of them these days involve the guy sitting across from him, in fact, long legs currently splayed out akimbo and brown hair tousled from his shower. He smells like pseudo-coconut body wash and is downright dreamy at the moment, unfortunately, which is making it hard for Keith to focus on the topic at hand. It’s a miracle that they could even be in the same room considering their rocky beginnings, but there’s only so many universe-threatening forces people can beat before they start to let go of small differences. Not to mention the direct flirting(?) going on as of recently.
“What do you want me to say? Congratulations on your many conquests or whatever you’re going to brag about. It’s not like kissing is that interesting, anyway.”
A bald-faced lie. Kissing is extremely interesting, at least if Lance is involved. He’s kind of becoming obsessed. It’s very inconvenient.
Lance swivels his head and presses a hand to his chest, scandalized. “Keithy-boy! How very dare you! Making out with someone may very well be one of the best parts of life, aside from clean bedsheets and fresh waffle fries. I’m just trying to catch you up on all the parts of growing up that you missed while you were eating lizards on a stick in your desert shack.”
Keith flops back into his bed, hoping that the ceiling would have some answers as to what the hell he’s supposed to do here.
“If I ask you about who you’ve kissed will you leave it alone?”
“I’m so glad you asked!”
“I didn’t-“
“There was Miranda Skye in fourth grade, that was my first one, behind the church barbecue. It was pretty good but we had just been eating some greasy stuff so it was kind of slippery. We didn’t last long. Next was this girl named Marcella, great kid, that was on a sixth grade field trip…”
Keith’s leg begins to bounce. This conversation is in danger of encroaching on sensitive territory. As Lance rattles on, though, long hands waving in the air, Keith does notice a pattern.
“Lance, did you actually date any of these people? These are all like, one kiss a year apart each.”
Lance pauses in his babbling and turns to glance over his shoulder. There’s a pinch of…something in his brow before he launches into another monologue, leaning back to lounge on his side next to Keith. “Oh, well, you know how it is. Or I guess you don’t, actually. Anyway, it’s more fun most of the time to just make out and be on your way. Who wants all of the strings attached, blegh, am I right?” Lance lolls his head around with a face that looks more constipated than the suave smirk he was probably aiming for.
“Rrrright. Is…that how you feel about Allura?”
Lance hums, eyes going a bit sad. “That’s…I don’t know. She’s obviously way out of my league, and I’m not going to push anything after she says no, of course. The lines and flirting just kind of feel like a habit now, or like an inside joke. She’s wonderful and amazing and gorgeous and a million other things but I don’t see us happening anymore, y’know?”
Keith nods sympathetically. “I get you.”
Lance bounces back easily, as he always does. “Anyway, Keithy-boy, since you don’t have much experience under your belt, why don’t you tell me about what you WANT it to be like?”
Keith knows exactly what he would want it to be like. A wide-open observation deck, sparkling galaxies passing them by, a warm olive green jacket draped over his shoulders and-
“Absolutely not.”
Lance deflates once again, letting out an exasperated groan. “Come ON, man! I poured my heart out to you, just tell me what celebrity crushes you had as a kid or something!”
Keith’s blood runs a little cold. The Question. His brain scrambles.
“Uhhh…Vanessa Hudgens?”
Lance punches his fist in the air. “YEAH, man, now we’re getting somewhere!! Ugh, talk about heartthrobs, the whole cast of High School Musical really did things for Young Lance. Ashley Tisdale, Zac Efron?? The guy who played Chad, Corbin Bleu!!? Oh lord, he can dunk on me any day…”
Keith snorts. A steady spring of hope begins to well in his chest. He didn’t know what he had expected, for Lance to push him away? He steels himself regardless.
“Yeah, actually…I always did like Chad better.”
Lance meets his gaze from where they lay side-by-side, eyes flicking back and forth between Keith’s own, searching. Though he’s wildly out of practice, Keith opens up and lets him look. Lance seems to find the answer he’s looking for and cracks an easy smile.
“Sooo is there anyone that you have your eye on? You know, to get your first kiss?”
Keith’s pulse starts to race. He’s got his gloves off, he hopes the sweating of his palms isn’t noticeable.
“No comment.”
Lance sighs. Tucks his hands behind his head, casual. “That’s a real shame, because I could help you…”
“Oh, with what, more pickup lines?”
Lance flops a hand over to smack Keith lightly in the shoulder. “Those are gold and you know it. But no, really dude, I could help you prepare. Get you all primed and ready to sweep this guy off his feet.”
“By…doing what exactly?”
Lance pauses, uncharacteristically hesitant. His cheeks do go a certain shade of red, though.
Keith swallows and does what he does best: take impossible shots.
“By…practicing k-”
“OH, well if you insist, I’ll bite that bullet, haha! Keith, you’re gonna be 100% boyfriend material when I’m done with ya, believe you me, the lessons I give NEVER fail, so pucker up-”
“Lance, stop.”
Lance halts in his rambling, already halfway to sitting up. His eyes are borderline manic, he’s sweating bullets. Keith hoists himself up too. “You’re acting crazy. I can’t tell what you're trying to do. Is…that…something you…” Want? Obsess over? Drive yourself crazy at night with the thoughts of like I do? “...are okay with?”
Lance takes a deep breath and sits up fully. “I…yeah. I’m cool if you’re cool. You know. Two cool dudes. Making out. No biggie.”
It strikes Keith that this is his chance. Selfish, maybe. Awkward, definitely, but what he’s been burning for is almost within his reach. His hand twitches in the sheets, Lance’s scent washing over him. “...Okay.”
“Yeah?” Lance seems almost surprised.
“Yeah.”
“A-Alright, sweet.”
“Cool…”
“Cool.”
They both are stuck in place, staring wide-eyed at each other. Keith's face flushes again at the knowledge of what they’re about to do. This is crazy. This is absolutely ruinous, but Keith can’t break the gravitational orbit they’re keeping. His eyes drop to Lance’s lips, just in time to catch him swiping his tongue across them quickly. The butterflies inside him take off in fighter jets.
A hot thrill shoots through Keith as Lance slides his eyes shut and the distance between them closes. At first it doesn’t feel like much, other than the warm meeting of skin on skin, but then Lance tilts his head, moves his lips and oh. That’s so much better. Keith has never really put much thought towards just how sensitive his mouth is, but Lance seems to know it and holds this fact like a weapon, digging it straight between his ribs. Lance’s own mouth is hot and inviting, Keith can’t help himself from leaning forward to drink in the heat.
His hands reach out blindly and find the crease of Lance’s hip, skating up over the expanse of his ribcage. Lance inhales sharply, sweet against Keith’s cheek, and slips his tongue over the swell of Keith’s bottom lip, sending a shock of fire through his veins. Lance’s hands slide up over Keith’s chest, finding homes in the hollow of his jaw and the locks of his dark hair. This boy is going to be the death of him.
Lance breaks away, and Keith finds himself scared to death that it’s all over.
“So…what do you think?”
Keith swallows, drinking in everything about Lance he can from this close. Freckles, long lashes, a little acne scar right above his eyebrow…he feels like he can look and look and look forever and find infinite things to be enamored with.
The raspiness and tenderness of his own voice surprises him.
“I don’t know…I think I need anoth-mmph…”
Lance is back on him before he can finish his sentence, the space that separates them dropping like a lead weight.
The hot slick of Lance’s tongue is addictive, sliding over Keith’s own in a rhythm that Keith has only just begun to learn. He’s suddenly seized by the need to memorize every single second, every single movement, every single sigh and tensing of muscle that he can feel under his fingertips. His heart is about to throb straight out of his chest, right into Lance’s wandering hands.
Spurred by either his own evil intentions to ruin Keith’s life or because Keith has unconsciously pulled him closer, Lance swings one of his toned legs over Keith’s lap and deposits himself firmly there. Their kiss breaks with the transition and Keith catches just a glimpse of Lance’s face, eyes hazy and brow determined when he swoops back in to capture Keith’s mouth with his own. Keith feels a bit like he’s falling.
Keith’s hands find the place where they’re obviously meant to be forever, firmly gripping Lance’s hips, his thumbs pressing tenderly into the dip of his slender waist. This new angle lets Lance kiss him with a renewed fervor, tipping Keith’s head up and nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Keith nearly whine out loud. He’s made his decision: he’s quitting Voltron, quitting training, quitting eating and sleeping and breathing in order to devote every ounce of energy he has towards kissing this boy in his lap.
Keith’s hands slowly slide beneath the hem of Lance’s shirt, and once again Keith is struck by how warm Lance is. His skin is almost feverish under Keith’s palms and the shiver that he feels wash over Lance is both endearing and torturous. Lance keels his head to the side and trails his lips from Keith’s mouth to his cheek to his jaw, the rest of the way down to Keith’s throat. This is light years past the pretenses they had set, but neither of them dares to break the electric tension. It’s Keith’s turn to gasp now as Lance’s impossible mouth nurses at his thundering pulse point. His teeth pluck at the sinews of his neck. His tongue laves over sensitive skin. If these were the sensations that Lance had been raving about, Keith understands now. It’s dangerous how much he likes this. If Lance asked him to tear his rib cage open so he could crawl inside, he’d oblige in a booming heartbeat.
Keith’s hands smooth unconsciously around Lance’s waist to slide up his back, gripped with the need to get him closer, closer. Suddenly his fingertips drag against the thin, puckered skin of Lance’s scar. The one from the exploding not-Rover. Lance’s spine arches sharply, chest pressing into Keith’s own, his gasp is audible. A cold shot of panic races through Keith’s veins. He rips Lance away from his shoulder. Lance does not, thankfully, look to be in pain. The expression he’s wearing is probably even worse for Keith’s psyche. He’s blissed out, eyelids heavy and mouth dropped open in a daze. His lips are kissed red, hair messy and face ruddy. He looks perfect.
Keith is suddenly slapped in the face with the cruelty of it all. Here’s this perfect boy in his lap, kissed stupid like he always should be, skin marred by his own bravery. It’s an excruciating reminder of their positions out here. Death could be one battle, one laser fire, one fuckup away. Mortifyingly, tears prick at the corners of Keith’s eyes. He wraps his arms tight and low around Lance’s waist and shoves his face into Lance’s shoulder, his soft heathered tee shirt a brief comfort.
“Woahhh, hah, that was, uh...really intense,” Lance all but slurs, draping his own arms over Keith’s shoulders to play with his hair, “I’m giving you a full five-star review. You’ll definitely pull anyone you’re going after- hey, are you crying? Did I suck that bad?”
Keith huffs out a hot breath and squeezes his eyes tighter shut. No use being coy about it now. “No, you asshole. I want you so bad and this is the only...we won’t...so I’m. I’m just…”
Lance stiffens in his arms. “You- what?”
“Yeah, okay, make fun of me all you want, tale as old as time, right? The dropout fuckup falls for the prettyboy he’ll never get, ha-ha-ha. I thought with all that stuff you were saying, calling me handsome and whatever…but you don’t even want to date the people you make out with, so just go and we can pretend this never happened.” Keith goes to push Lance off his lap. The contact is suddenly stifling.
Lance doesn’t let him get that far. His hands clench in Keith’s hair. “Woah woah woah, hold on a second. I- god damn it I’m so fucking stupid - that’s- it’s not that I didn’t WANNA be with anyone I’ve kissed before, I sure as hell did, it’s just...okay, I know I put up this big shit attitude but honestly I…” Lance’s voice shakes, Keith’s heart feels another ache. “No one…wants me like that. So I gave up on trying. I thought it was better to just have fun, say my goofy lines, get my kicks in and then be on my way, but it’s not...the same with you. I promise. I guess I just didn’t wanna scare you away with ‘we will get into a relationship if we kiss right now’ or whatever…”
“What do you mean ‘no one wants you’? Are you stupid or is everyone you’ve kissed before stupid?”
Lance barks a laugh, looking somewhat relieved to have Keith’s gaze back on him instead of crushed into his shoulder. “I ask myself that same question a lot, buddy. I mean, I don’t wanna bum you out with all the things that are wrong with me-“
“Lance.“
“No, I know, I know, get to the point. What I’m trying to get at is that...I like you, Keith. Like, a lot. A LOT a lot. It’s getting pretty ridiculous; it makes me do stupid stuff like pick on you and hit on you in the common room and tell you all about my other flings so you’d get jealous and ask me to kiss you instead. I still can’t believe that worked, by the way. I mean, I liked you plenty before all this but now that I know what it’s like to kiss you, HOO boy, I am one-hundred percent sold. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still like you even without getting to kiss you like that again, but I really, really, really do want to kiss you like that again-“
Keith stops him with a hand on his cheek, pressing his thumb to Lance’s lips. He feels Lance’s skin grow hot under his touch and for the first time he allows himself to believe it really is all because of him. “First off. Every shitty thing you say about yourself? Wrong. You’re not stupid, or- or unlovable, or whatever else, okay?”
Lance makes a sound that just edges on wounded. Keith watches his pupils blow even larger as he nods, and ignores his own embarrassment to take his hand in his free one. It feels good. That’s what matters in the end, isn’t it? Maybe this, moments where he gets Lance in his lap and all to himself, makes all the hell worth it.
“Lance. If we do this it’s going to hurt a hell of a whole lot more if we...if one of us-”
Lance sighs against the digit pressed to his mouth. He raises Keith’s hand and plants a kiss in its bare palm. “Hey. We’ll figure it out, okay? To me this just means that we should make use of the time we’ve got. We’re gonna survive, and when we make it back to Earth I’m taking you out for dinner, you treat me to dessert, then we’ll have a long romantic walk on the beach, and you can meet my dog. Deal?”
Keith smiles, slowly. “Deal.”
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Are you wi-fi? Because I’m feeling a connection.”
Keith laughs, scooting Lance closer on his lap. “I cannot believe that just worked on me.”
“See? Told ya. I’m a charmer.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you certainly are.”