Work Text:
Night cloaks them as Keith and Lance step out of the dance hall and into the gardens to escape the party. Towering doors shut behind them, muffling the sounds of merriment from inside.
Lance breathes a sigh of relief, Keith falling into step beside him as they begin to walk aimlessly through the hedge maze. The bushes start small at first, only about knee height but soon they’re both in over their heads and wildly lost.
Keith insists on taking turns seemingly at random until Lance has to stop him.
“Stop running amok,” he scolds, taking Keith by the shoulders. “Don’t you know anything about mazes? You always go left.”
Keith doesn’t believe him at first but soon they’ve made their way to the center and frustration turns to awe.
The hedges have bloomed. All around them are what appear to be a cross between a lily and a rose in full bloom. From top to bottom each of the he hedges are covered in the alien blooms. The petals are a deep red that’s like velvet under their fingers as Keith strokes the blossoms, entranced. The pistils are glowing faintly, pale like starlight. Lance can’t help but be reminded of fireflies, the faint lights bobbing in the breeze.
Keith leans in, inhaling the scent of one of the blooms curiouly. Lance watches as the tension rolls from Keith’s shoulders. When he stands again he’s standing straighter, shoulders squared but posture open. The tension around his eyes has fallen away and the perpetual frown he always seems to be wearing has faded into the ghost of a smile. Lance can only stare, lips parted in surprise.
“These smell amazing.”
Lance leans in to smell one of the rose-lily hybrids but comes back disappointed. They’re warm and sweet, a nice scent he certainly enjoys but not as much as Keith seems to be.
Keith sniffs another, his eyes falling shut as he savors the scent.
“What do they smell like?” Lance wonders, a little captivated by Keith’s reaction.
“You can’t smell them?”
Lance tilts his head curiously. Keith’s eyes are wide and dilated in the dark and Lance can’t tell if it’s a side effect of the flowers or just the darkness.
“I think it might be a Galra thing,” Lance says carefully. “They smell nice but they’re nothing special.” He pokes a flower idly, watching it bob.
Keith reaches out to touch the same flower, soothing the spot Lance had just jabbed with sure carelessness. He’s so gentle about it Lance actually feels bad.
“It’s hard to explain,” Keith says slowly. “It smells like…” He bites his lip, more like he’s reticent to speak than afraid. “Home,” he finally says, caressing the flower. “Like safety.”
Lance doesn’t expect him to say more but to his surprise Keith continues.
“When I was little we used to get these storms in the desert,” he explains. “Huge walls of sand and wind would blow in, rattling the doors and windows and making so much noise my ears hurt.” He winces with the memory. “They’re called haboobs.”
Lance snorts and Keith shoots him a glare but it fades quickly.
“I used to get so scared.” He gently lifts a flower from beneath a curling petal with a knuckle. “My dad used to wrap me in a blanket,” Keith says softly “and hold me until they passed.
“I was still scared, but I’ve never felt safer than I did in his arms.” His smile turns sad. “Like nothing could hurt me.”
Keith plucks the flower, tilting it to his nose and taking a breath. His eyes close and a gentle zephyr tousles his hair.
Lance has never heard Keith talk about his family, let alone with such soft vulnerability. It makes his heart skip and his palms sweat.
Keith spins the flower in his fingers as he pulls it away, a line of glowing pollen streaked across the tip of his nose and the swell of his lips. It matches the starlight in his eyes.
“Don’t think I’ve felt safe since then.” He tucks the flower behind his ear, dark eyes smiling up at Lance and all Lance wants to do is kiss him senseless. So he does the next best thing.
“You look like you have flower jizz on your face.”
The moment shatters.
Keith’s expression warps into a scowl, something more familiar that Lance is more comfortable with than open vulnerability. Keith wipes at his nose and mouth with a fist as Lance swallows back his heart, the earth under his feet leveling back out before he can fall.
He laughs at Keith’s expense, the two of them turning to find their way back out of the maze, bickering back and forth, and the moment lost.
Lance releases a sigh of relief from behind Keith’s back, knowing he either just made a huge mistake, or narrowly avoided one. He can’t quite tell. But there’s a lingering pressure in his chest and an aching want he can’t quite shake. The image of Keith’s face, so open and expressive is seared into his mind and it’s not an image Lance will be able to shake any time