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The sound of Keith's footsteps felt too loud to his ears. He was making his way down the long hallways of the castle of lions, wandering aimlessly during the middle of the night. It wasn't even actually night — they just decided amongst themselves when they were gonna sleep and when their day was set to happen. Of course, when they landed on a planet, they followed the day and night cycle of the planet they were staying at.
Either way, the only sound in the halls of the castle was the hum of its life, and Keith's soft footsteps.
His bare feet were cold, but he was set on wandering the hallways, rather than returning to his room.
To be fair, there was an actual reason he left his room. After waking from a nightmare, he felt as if he was slowly suffocating in the small space assigned to him. So, panic in his chest, ringing in his ears, sight blurry, hair sticking to his forehead, he stumbled out of his room.
Tears streamed down his face as his shoulder hit the wall. His hair, pajama shirt, and shorts were sticking to his sweaty skin, his breath staggering each time he tried to inhale and his limbs shaking.
Thankfully, the cold floor and soft hum of the castle's life helped him snap out of the feeling of panic and suffocation that enveloped him when he sat up in his bed.
He couldn’t even remember the nightmare that upset him in the first place. It's been a recurring trend recently. Waking up in cold sweat, or a scream stuck in his throat, but without any context to the fear or sadness he felt.
So yeah. Keith was wandering the halls of the castle — rather than sleeping — at what felt like the equivalent of 3 am.
Despite not needing to look at anything specific, Keith continued to push his bangs out of his face, and then getting annoyed when it fell back in place less than two minutes later. He had to fight the urge to scream as the sensation of hair sticking to skin and falling in line of sight continued to plague him.
Without noticing, he made his way to Lance's room. Still fidgeting with his hair, he didn't notice the blue paladin leaving his room as he walked by the entrance of it.
Here's a life lesson, kids. When you're walking in an area with a lot of doors, make sure to either pay attention to the doors or walk a healthy distance away from them.
I'm telling you this because it's never fun to be knocked off your feet by something you weren't even anticipating, and I bet Keith would agree with me if it happened to him at 3 am.
As it happens, this is exactly what happened to him. He was fidgeting with his fringe while walking, and in all his wisdom didn't notice Lance coming out of his room. This resulted in a collision that didn’t really injure either of them, but wasn’t a fun experience either way.
“Whoa, mullet, watch where you're going,” Lance bit out, leaning on the doorframe as a way to steady himself after their collision. Keith looked up at him from his place on the floor.
Well, he tries to. His fringe is in the way, obscuring his vision.
“Well excuse me for not expecting anyone else to be up at this ungodly hour,” Keith snapped back, pushing himself up and off the floor. He pushed his bangs out of his face, tucking them behind his ear.
Obviously, it didn't work. The hair fell back into its place, obstructing Keith's vision as if it's the only thing this (lock) of hair could do in its existence.
Keith groaned, his eyes falling to the floor. His hair has been bothering him for a while now, but he couldn't find scissors and he didn't want to cut his hair with his Blade of Marmora knife. Unsurprisingly, he was also reluctant to ask anyone for help.
“You good, mullet?” Lance asked, eyebrow quirking up. The cuban boy was genuinely worried for his friend, who looked worse for wear. He was paler than usual, his face was tear stained, and his clothes were sticking to him in several places.
“It’s nothing,” Keith muttered, gaze still fixed to the floor between them. “Just- don’t want to bother you with anything.”
“That’s- that's fine,” Lance nodded, chest aching for his friend, who was clearly either a hug or a punch away from sobbing and crumbling to the floor. “Maybe get some sleep?”
Keith finally looked back up at Lance, noticing the worry on his face. For some reason, it didn't feel patronising to hear his supposed rival (but really, they were friends at this point. Right? ) advise him to get some sleep. If it had been anyone else, Keith would've scoffed and pushed past them, still winded up after a nightmare, panic attack, and a collision.
But it was Lance. Lance who would make everything into a competition. Lance who would try to antagonise Keith into doing stupid stuff he shouldn’t. Lance who remembered him from the garrison, when he was a hotheaded, angry, scared kid. Lance, who was looking at him as if he was going to topple over any second.
To be fair to lance, it was true. The only thing keeping Keith upright was the fact he hadn't moved in a bit. If he were to try and take a step forward, his knees would buckle and he would end up on the floor once more. I don't think Keith knew that though.
Because instead of replying to Lance, he tried to take a step towards him. And as I said, Lance’s worry that Keith would crumble the moment he tried to move wasn't unfounded. It was very much what happened.
Keith's knees buckled, his whole body feeling heavy like a bag of stones. His shoulder hit the wall once again, the impact echoing in the nearly empty hallways. Simply put, Keith became a ragdoll someone let go of.
And Lance, for all his sharp reflexes, didn't manage to catch him. He tried, but he didn't manage it. He did, however, manage to lose balance and land on top of Keith.
While both of them were weary and tired, the cold floor and the impact of the fall both of them experienced was enough to make sure they didn't fall asleep on top of each other right then and there.
Both of the boys felt their cheeks flush at the proximity of their bodies. After all, Keith fell to his knees, and Lance knocked him further down and to his back.
Right now, Lance had to prop himself up on his forearms, as their bodies were pressed together on the cold floor of the castle.
Yes, it's cliche, but what can you do? They haven't realised it yet, but the setup and continuity of their rivalry stemmed from their interest in each other. They were both crushing without realising it.
Keith hasn't realised it yet because his formative years weren't spent in loving homes where he could figure out himself and how he felt his emotions and how he thought of other people.
Lance hasn't realised it yet because he was so desperately trying to hold onto this rivalry he's created between them. His yearning for Keith's attention manifested itself as antagonism and bickering, rather than his usual flirting.
Either way, I have no way to tell them that they're yearning for each other, and that it's reciprocated, but also they have no way of realising this themselves at the moment.
This itchy heat started spreading up Keith's neck and face, as his and Lance's faces were merely a few centimetres apart. lances eye bore into keiths, dark blue meeting purple. I could probably use more accurate words to describe the shades of their eyes but it's not the point.
“Oh, sorry!” Lance scrambled back to his knees and feet, offering Keith a hand after finally standing up. Keith remained on the floor, staring at the hand that was held out in front of him.
After about a minute of neither of them moving, Keith finally took the offer and grabbed Lance's hand. He hoisted him up, but pulled a little too strongly — not only did he pull Keith to his feet, but he pulled him into his arms.
“I still think you should head to bed,” Lance muttered, his face weirdly hot.
Instead of replying, Keith leaned forward, his forehead now resting on Lance's shoulder. This boy was exhausted at this point. The nightmare was horrifying, the following panic attack wasn't much better, and his fall and unsteadiness were embarrassing. Unsurprisingly, Keith started to feel like returning to bed wasn't a bad idea.
“C’mon, I'll let you crash in my room. Yours is too far away for you, I think,” Lance told him, a hand reaching up to pat on Keith's upper back. Once again, the words didn't seem patronising or condescending when lance said them. they felt like someone cared.
Gently and relatively slowly, Lance dragged Keith to the doorway they were still in front of, and through the entrance.
All the rooms they slept in were pretty small and filled with their own belongings. While Pidge's room was filled with technology, and Keith's room was pretty empty, Lance's room held the screen and gaming console they managed to get, along with a dresser of beauty products and the like.
Additionally, the boy managed to find a few more pillows and blankets to add to his small bed, out of his need for comfort and padding. Thus, when Keith looked at Lance's bed, he felt like he'd fall asleep the minute he settled into it.
Now that they were inside the room, Lance gently pushed Keith towards the bed, letting the boy lie down in it. as he made to move away and out of the room, Keith grabbed his hand.
“Stay?” he whispered, sleepily glancing up at this beautiful boy in front of him, his tiredness clouding his mind, “Please?”
The light pressure on his arm and the soft tones of his friend made Lance pause. It's true that he also woke up from a nightmare and was planning on walking around the castle's halls until he grew tired or his team woke up, but his bed seemed more inviting now than ever, with Keith looking up at him like he was the stars themselves, shining through a window throughout the night.
And maybe to Keith, he was the star. Constellations of light and stories that exist everywhere. A soft glow from far away and a bright light and warmth when you get close. The shine of the sun as it rises and sets, the warmth it gives the earth they came from. The light it gives the moon.
Maybe to Lance, Keith was the moon. A redirection of sunlight, the cool tones that colour the earth throughout its nights. The base of countless stories about transformation and the flow of time and life.
Nonetheless, Lance's thoughts about the stars and the moon aside, Keith's request struck deep into Lance's heart. and thus, he complied with his friend's request, and settled in bed right next to him.
Immediately, Keith wrapped his arms around lance and buried his face in his chest. While he didn't cry, tension started pouring out of him as he relaxed into his friend's arms. After just a few moments, Keith's exhaustion caught up with him, and he was out like a light.
Lance enveloped his friend in a hug, the pressure of closeness helping them both. and as his thoughts started to drift and his eyes to droop, he looked down at his friend.
Keith looked peaceful. The crease between his eyebrows was gone as he slept, and a serene expression settled on his features. While his face was still tear stained and a bit red, he was still beautiful.
Wait, beautiful?
Well, yeah, friends can consider each other pretty and beautiful, but Lance has never thought about Keith that way. While yes, Lance could admit to himself that Keith was objectively hot and attractive, he hasn't considered him beautiful before. Friends don't think of each other as both attractive and beautiful, do they?
And as Lance glanced at Keith's face once more, his eyes drifted down to his friend's lips. While he was sleeping, his frown went away, and his lips were lightly parted.
There's no reason for Lance to be thinking about Keith's lips, right?
Wait.
Oh.
Oh.
And just like that, Lance's mind and heart finally heard each other. And despite realising that he was in love crushing on his friend, he wasn't scared. He knew that the love he held for Keith was not unfounded, and was not a distraction or an obstacle to overcome.
It was a fact that existed deep within even before he knew it to be true, and it would probably remain true for a while.
But as thoughts of infatuation and love filled Lance's mind, his body caught up with him and he fell asleep in the arms of his friend, his crush, his love.