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He doesn't think his mind is ever going to settle. Keith is still reeling from the fact that Shiro is back -- Shiro is back, the weird event that all of those cave drawings had been indicating was somehow Shiro coming back to Earth, after everyone had been saying that he was dead, gone forever, for months. It's something he never even thought to hope for, because who survives a crash in outer space? But apparently Shiro is alive, and relatively fine, given the fact that he'd been kidnapped and tortured by aliens, and now he's here and -- so are these other three kids, but that's beyond Keith's care right now.
Keith barely remembers arriving at the shack, barely remembers ushering everyone inside, barely remembers pulling the clothes he'd stolen from Shiro's old apartment out of his trunk. He'd pushed them into Shiro's hands and then gone outside, away from the people crowding his home, skin buzzing with something that felt like fear and elation and endless worry.
His brother is alive.
It seemed impossible but there he was, inside Keith's shitty little house, talking to the other cadets and miraculously, wonderfully still here. He'd come back from the dead, somehow. Keith doesn't realize he's shaking until his breath hitches, and then his knees are buckling and he's falling down to the ground and gasping for breath between desperate gulps of air. He can't stop thinking of Shiro's still face when he'd been stretched out on that table, the shock of white hair, the unfamiliar scar, his brother's face, he was really there, Keith wasn't alone anymore -- he tries to slow his breathing, to calm down, but it's impossible while his heart is thundering in his chest.
It's so stupid -- he hadn't even panicked like this when the crash had been reported. It had been a quiet kind of misery, an emptiness that had filled him to his fingertips, a dull realization that the worst thing had come to pass and now he would have to deal with the effects. He'd let his entire body go numb with grief, had swallowed the terror and blinding pain until it was nearly impossible to feel anything at all, had abandoned his studies and Shiro's apartment and all of their memories and had just -- followed where his instincts had told him to go. This empty shack, these towering red cliffs and the dusty desert around them had called to him. And despite how futile and pointless it had seemed at the time, somehow, somehow that had led him to this -- to Shiro coming back.
"Hey," he hears, and he jerks his head around to see Lance standing there, a concerned look on his face but hands casually tucked into his pockets, which somehow calms Keith down more than anything. Lance has huge eyes, and they reflect the moonlight when he blinks at Keith. "Are you okay?"
Keith ducks his head, sucking in one last huge breath, glad that his face isn't wet even though it feels like he's been crying. He gets back to his feet and crosses his arms, an attempt to shield himself from Lance's stare as much as the cool desert night. "Fine," he says shortly.
"Okay," Lance says doubtfully, "Just wanted to check. This has been..." He pauses, looking deeply at Keith for a moment. Keith stares back, trying to fit this boy into his memory, trying to figure out why the curve of his mouth is so familiar, why his voice leaves something itching at the back of Keith's throat. "A really weird day," Lance finishes finally, and looks away from Keith at the moon. It's a red moon tonight, Keith realizes, the softest haze of color brushed over it -- it matches the rest of the desert, matches his burning heart.
"Yeah," he says. Lance glances at him, wets his lips with his tongue, and Keith remembers, suddenly, laughter ringing out from the other side of the classroom, a warm voice and flashes of white teeth against brown skin; remembers meeting Lance's gaze across the simulator, locking gazes over and over, only seconds at a time before Lance inevitably jerked his eyes away. Remembers the way Lance had taken a step towards him the day he'd flipped a desk against the wall and walked out of the classroom, ignoring the shouts of his commanding officer and the whispers erupting all around him.
"We should go inside," Lance murmurs, hands still in his pockets, hip cocked in a relaxed stance. He looks at ease, but his mouth is a twist of tension, nothing like the soft curve Keith can vaguely recall.
Keith looks at the shack, swallowing hard. Shiro is in there -- Shiro, and whatever strange future awaits them. He's spent so long thinking he didn't have a future, thinking his life was whatever fate awaited him out here, death or self-destruction. It's almost as terrifying to think of starting again as it was to think of everything ending. Keith feels like his life is swinging between absolutes, absolute loss and absolute gain, and he wants, more than anything, to pretend the last year never happened, that he's the same person he was and that Shiro is as well. But they aren't, and he doesn't know what he's going to find when he goes in there. He doesn't know what Shiro is going to think of him.
His vision blurs for a moment, but then Lance yawns, a soft sound in the darkness. Keith feels his pulse settle abruptly, even as Lance flushes, red enough that it's noticeable in the strange moonlight. Lance is disarming, and human, and so normal in an abnormal night.
"Let's go," Keith says, sighing. He came out here to figure things out, he thinks to himself. He'll just have to keep looking until he has all the answers he's looking for.
Lance follows him back inside, quiet and familiar and unknown, and Keith wonders if Lance holds any of those answers.
Keith clenches his fists against the console, trying to ignore Coran's deep sighs next to him. In his ear, Lance is cursing up a storm, words almost incomprehensible as he mutters them rapidly. He can see him below, flapping his arms around as if he can shake out the feeling of electricity running through his body. The maze is so clear, laid out in front of Keith onscreen, but he can't seem to communicate it properly to Lance, and Lance clearly doesn't trust him.
It actually stings a bit, because Keith feels -- connected to Lance, ever since that night outside his shack. There's no real basis for it, just a feeling that something had passed between them, the same thing that kept their eyes crossing when Keith had still been at the Garrison. Some inevitable pull, something that proved they were drawn by the same fate towards the same end. It's something he shares with the rest of the Paladins, sure, but Lance is the one who is always, always looking back when he chances a glance his way.
"Look," Keith grits out, trying to remain calm. "Stop moving. For like two seconds, can you just keep still?"
"Ohhhh," Lance says, deeply sarcastic. "Keep still, I see! I thought the point of this exercise was for me to get out of the maze, but Keith, in his infinite wisdom, thinks I should just keep--"
"Please," Keith interrupts, and Lance goes abruptly quiet, head spinning to look up at the window where Keith is. The glass is tinted, so Lance probably can't really see him that well, but Keith feels that same buzz under his skin, as if their eyes were meeting properly. He clears his throat. Coran shifts next to him, and when Keith chances a look at him, Coran is looking down at Lance with interest.
"Let's just -- start over," Keith says. "Can you face me and take two steps forward? Two regular steps, not big ones."
Lance doesn't move for a second but then he heaves a huge sigh and does as Keith asks, precisely as Keith asks. Coran makes a noise of approval next to him. Keith feels something clench in his chest, looking down at Lance.
"Uh, turn to the left and take two more steps forward."
Lance doesn't bump the wall, and Keith feels his mouth twitching at the corners despite himself when Lance says, "Oh, hey," in this surprised tone. Keith takes a deep breath, fingers unclenching, and tries to guide him through the rest of the maze as best he can. It's not perfect; Lance still bumps the wall a few times, and once Keith misjudges the distance and sends him down the wrong fork, prompting a long reversal of steps, but they make it, eventually.
Lance takes off his helmet, shaking his hair out so that it settles properly -- Keith can see the sweat on his forehead from here, can see a pointed tooth sticking out of his grin, can see that bright flash of his eyes as he turns to look at them. "Hey," Lance calls up, "That wasn't so bad after all. My turn!"
Keith takes off his headset, setting it down on the console carefully, and jolts when Coran sets a hand on his shoulder.
"You're a good match," Coran says. His mustache hides most of his mouth, but Keith thinks he's smiling.
"Uh, sure," Keith says, squinting a little at Coran. Coran doesn't say anything else, just tilts his head enigmatically, so Keith eases around him, trying not to think too hard about what he'd said. He heads towards the exit, snagging his own helmet along the way.
He realizes halfway down to the maze that he's grinning, wide enough that it actually aches a little. He stops and touches his mouth just as Lance comes around the corner, smiling himself. It looks natural and easy on him, and Keith automatically turns the corners of his mouth down before Lance can see him.
"Hey," Lance says, tapping him on the shoulder as he goes past, and Keith can't find words until Lance is already gone; Lance hums to himself as he lets himself into the control booth, some song vaguely familiar to Keith that he doesn't quite recognize.
"Hey," he echoes, even though Lance isn't here anymore, and then puts his helmet on, squaring his shoulders as he heads into the room.
Lance's hand goes lax in his, which is his only warning before he tips over, landing roughly against Keith's shoulder. "Hey," he says, startled, and Lance huffs out a laugh that blows hot over his neck.
"Being blown up sucks," Lance murmurs. His hair brushes against Keith's cheek, and Keith finds himself cupping the back of Lance's neck, tilting him gently so that he's leaned more comfortably against him. His arm slides down around his back until it rests against his waist, propping him up so that he doesn't fall back. "Are you trying to cop a feel?" Lance says, voice slurring, and Keith flushes red.
"I'm trying to keep you from hurting yourself more than you already have," Keith says, trying to sound annoyed, but it comes out soft and almost fond. There's blood on the side of Lance's head, dried sticky red against his dark skin, and Keith wants to scrub it away, like just cleaning it would fix everything, but his gloves are dirty and there's nothing he can do here to help.
The fear, the crawling terror that he'd ruthlessly shoved to the back of his mind, creeps back in now that everything has passed. He doesn't know why he isn't used to this by now, the thought of losing people he cares about; he's been through it so many times before, his parents and then Shiro, and now there's the chance he could lose the rest of the team, and that chance won't ever go away until they stop Zarkon. Every day they're out here in space is a day they could die. He should have expected this. He shouldn't still feel the ache in his chest, shouldn't want to stop and let the swell of emotion take every bit of carefully won self-control away.
Lance is going to be okay, he tells himself. Lance is fine, and Shiro is fine, and they've managed to capture Sendak. All that remains now is finding out what he knows, and making sure that Lance gets taken care of.
"Is Coran okay?" Lance asks, and his lips brush Keith's neck as he speaks. Keith is so caught up by the sensation that he almost doesn't register Lance's words, but then he realizes that Lance is asking about Coran when he's the one who nearly died saving him, and something warm stirs in his stomach, a pleasant sort of burn that spreads to his fingertips where they rest against Lance's side.
"Coran is fine," Keith says. "He and Hunk are off looking for another crystal for the castle. They'll be back soon." He doesn't know if that's true or not, but Lance seems satisfied, making a soft humming noise. He slumps against Keith, head drooping a little, and Keith suddenly realizes he's about to pass out again.
"Lance?" he asks, reaching with his other arm to grab Lance more firmly, but Lance's head tilts back, eyes closed and still. Keith's heart lurches, but he can see the gentle rise and fall of Lance's chest, can still feel his breath against his face. Lance is fine, Lance is fine, he repeats to himself. It helps that Lance doesn't look nearly as vulnerable and in pain as he had earlier in Shiro's arms. His brows are smoothed out, and he looks almost like he's just sleeping peacefully. Keith is suddenly caught by how dark and long his lashes are, fanned over his cheeks.
"We should get him to the healing pods," Pidge says, and Keith looks up to see them and Shiro hovering next to where he and Lance are sprawled on the ground. They both look fine despite the fight, and Keith locks eyes with Shiro -- understanding passes between them, worry and relief and gratefulness in one glance. But then Shiro's eyes widen meaningfully, and he looks down at Lance and then back up at Keith, and Keith feels his ears heat at the implication. Pidge, thankfully, doesn't seem to notice. "Shiro, could you--"
"I'll carry him," Keith interrupts, and Shiro's definitely smirking at him now, but all Keith can think of is the way Lance had smiled at him, tired mouth curling up, saying We do make a good team. Keith wants to see this through, this moment between them, wants to absorb what it means that his heart is not quite settled and that warmth is lingering in his chest, even though Lance is no longer awake.
Lance is a heavy weight in his arms, awkward to carry with his armor on, and he's tired and aching and probably needs to sleep for a week, but something in him feels light. Lance's head stays tucked up against his shoulder, and Keith times his steps with his breathing, trying to be careful as he walks.
Keith's mouth hurts from smiling, but he can't help it. Lance's voice in his ear is a soft mutter, but he doesn't sound too put out, and the others are cheerfully talking about how to get Blue out of Rolo and Nyma's ship so they can get her to Lance. He isolates Lance's feed, and the mutter becomes focused.
"Can't believe you wanna develop a sense of humor now, of all times," Lance is saying, and Keith laughs.
"You have to admit it's pretty funny, Lance," he says, and Red purrs in agreement, still reveling in the flying they'd just done. The rush from making their way through the asteroid belt, from managing to stop Rolo and Nyma before they took Blue away, is keeping him and Red in a feedback loop of excitement and triumph, and Keith can't stop grinning. Lance's obvious petulance is only making him more amused.
"My arms are starting to hurt, dude," Lance complains, and Keith rolls his eyes and pushes Red to go a bit faster; she complies with a pleased growl, thrusters kicking in as they make their way towards Lance's marker onscreen.
It's a pretty planet, Keith thinks, looking around at the blues and greens of the scenery, at the vivid purple and pink sky framing everything. He can kind of see why Lance got caught up in Nyma's trick. Lance is only a few feet away, rolled out onto the ground on his stomach, arms stretched high above his head. He's got his face buried in his arm, making soft frustrated noises.
"So was it a good first date?" Keith asks, enjoying the way Lance's ears turn red as he lifts his head. Lance's mouth is twisted into a pout, and it's really kind of cute. The warmth twists in his stomach -- it's been a constant whenever he's around Lance, comfortable and unsettling all at once, like a favorite sweater that's started to become itchy against your skin. He's trying not to think too hard about it, especially since Lance doesn't seem to be into guys.
"Don't make fun of me," Lance says, layering his voice in sadness. "I'm in mourning here. I just got my heart stomped on and I didn't even get a kiss."
"Hmm," Keith says noncommittally, examining the binding holding Lance to the tree. There doesn't seem to be any kind of button to release it on the cuffs, so he pulls his bayard out and activates it. He'll just have to cut through the energy beam and hope that disrupting it will trigger the cuffs to release as well.
He pulls the sword back just as Lance says, still faux-distraught, "I knew I should have gone for Rolo instead."
Keith almost drops his sword, only maintains his grip on it due to hours and hours and training; he does almost slice into the tree instead of the binding, has to pull back roughly to keep from potentially hurting Lance. His ears are ringing with Lance's words even though he'd spoken in a normal voice; he can almost hear them echo slightly over and over in his mind. His heart is picking up pace, like he's in the middle of combat, or flying through space again, winding his way through impossible gaps and dangerous obstacles. His body feels like it's readying for a fight.
Lance doesn't seem to have noticed his fumbling attempt with the sword, but he does look at Keith now, a strange glint in his eyes, almost challenging. Keith swallows and raises his sword again, hoping he looks casual despite the tension running through him.
"He still would have stolen Blue, Lance," Keith says, and Lance's mouth curls up at the edges, sweet and wicked at once. Keith's breath catches in his throat when Lance tilts his head to the side slightly, a gesture that looks deliberate, predatory.
"Nah. I'm way better at flirting with guys," Lance says, and his eyes are steady on Keith's, so bright and confident and -- Keith jerks his gaze away and slices at the energy beam roughly, and it flares bright white before fizzling into nothing. The cuffs do spring open, thankfully, and Lance drops to the ground as they release him, falling face-first into the dirt.
Keith turns his back on him immediately, heading back to Red, whose amusement is a tangible thing in the back of his mind. Fuck off, he thinks at her, and she purrs innocently. Lance is mumbling to himself again behind Keith, but it doesn't sound bitter anymore. He sounds -- pleased.
Keith doesn't look him in the eye again the whole rest of the way back to the castle, but he can feel him standing behind the pilot's chair, an overwhelming presence pressing against his senses, always on the edge of his awareness. Even when they separate -- Lance running to Blue as soon as they land in the hangar -- even then, Keith can feel him.
The fear is back, coursing through him, leaving him somewhat panicked and shaky. The image of Lance trapped and desperate on the other side of the airlock is still reeling through his head. It's too much, he thinks, too much all at once. He can still feel the imprint of the Gladiator's foot on his stomach, can feel the ache in his gut and the scrapes on his hands and knees. Lance is sweating in his jacket, but he still shivers noticeably as they run side by side through the castle halls.
The lights are flickering behind them, and then in front of them, and suddenly there are whispery echoes winding their way through the air, and Keith realizes it's Shiro, calling out for help.
He's about to turn down the side hall towards the sound when Lance grabs his arm, hand clamping firmly around his wrist. Keith pulls hard against him, straining as Shiro's voice rises and falls abruptly, sounding painfully like a choked yell, but Lance tightens his grip.
"Don't," Lance says, looking down the hallway, his mouth tight at the corners. "It's the castle, it did the same thing to me with Coran's voice. Don't listen." His voice is even, leaving no room for arguments, and Keith hesitates.
He's wrong, something in Keith whispers, that's your brother and you're going to leave him to die because you have a crush on this boy you barely know. You're going to lose him again.
Part of Keith wants to hold onto that, wants to jerk his hand out of Lance's and run to Shiro. Part of him is still that angry, terrified kid who purposefully got himself kicked out of the Garrison, who threw himself into the desert hoping it would give him meaning or let him fade away. That kid who decided that being alone was infinitely better than being around people who could never hope to understand him. It would be very, very easy to give into that part of himself again.
But -- Keith trusts Lance. It has nothing to do with his feelings for him -- he just trusts him. Lance is wild, and loud-mouthed, and overbearing, and sometimes obnoxious; but Lance is also loyal, and careful, and protective. Lance is the kind of person who trusts other people to be good, because he is inherently good.
Keith relaxes his arm, makes himself ignore the sounds of Shiro crying out -- and he can hear it now, the echoey layers, the way it doesn't quite sound right. Lance was right.
"This is so fucked up," Lance says, frowning as the voices finally fade, giving up. "What's even going on? Why is the castle like this?"
"I don't know," Keith says, "But the others -- they've got to be in danger too. We've got to find them somehow." He realizes Lance is still holding onto his wrist, but he doesn't say anything -- it's comforting, and he doesn't want Lance to pull away.
"Pidge," Lance murmurs. "They'll probably be in the room where that Galran crystal is. They've been studying it nonstop."
"Okay," Keith agrees, "We'll start there." He starts walking, deliberately casual, pulling Lance along in his wake. Lance's fingers flex on his wrist, and when he glances back Lance is staring down at where he's holding onto Keith -- the contrast of their skin, the rough edges of Keith's nails next to the smooth curves of Lance's, all of it strikes Keith as something -- very right.
Lance doesn't let go.
They walk in silence, letting it stretch between them. It's not uncomfortable, exactly, but it is tense, and Keith feels a thousand words piling up at the back of his throat, wondering if he's been reading into Lance's words and glances and touches too much, wondering if Lance is the kind of person who could be overt but subtle all at once. Probably, he thinks. Lance is full of contradictions, and it somehow only makes him more attractive and interesting.
The tension builds as they continue to walk, and Lance's hand grows sweaty where it's holding onto his wrist, and Keith finally can't take it, opening his mouth to say something.
Lance beats him to it. "Keith," he says, voice low.
They slow to a stop, and when Keith looks back, Lance is staring at him, mouth parted slightly, brow furrowed. He's still holding on, palm like fire against Keith's skin. Keith's mouth is dry, all of his words shriveling up into ashes on his tongue.
"Yeah?" he says, voice cracking a little, and it makes him flush. Lance seems encouraged by the sound though, because his expression clears a little, and he opens his mouth, and Keith's heart jumps into his throat, and --
"There you boys are!"
Lance lets go of Keith immediately, jerking around as Coran comes running up to them. He's out of breath, and his uniform is slightly disheveled, but he looks unhurt. He also looks immensely relieved to see them. "I've been so worried!" Coran says. "There seems to be something terribly wrong with the castle!"
"I told you that already," Lance says, and when Keith looks at him, pulse tripping unevenly, he looks completely normal again, like there hadn't been something pulsing between them only seconds ago. Keith feels something sharp and bitter settle into his chest when Lance doesn't look back.
"We were trying to find Pidge and Hunk," Lance says, and Coran nods his head and gestures for them to follow him. Keith grabs his own wrist, rubbing his fingers over where Lance had gripped as if he could rub the touch away, and doesn't look at Lance's face again.
"Lance is almost there," Hunk says in his ear, like Lance can't just say it himself -- but Lance hasn't said anything since Keith's coordinates had popped up on the radar a little more than an hour ago. Hunk had explained to Keith that he and Lance had crashed together on some kind of watery planet, and they'd dealt with a local alien problem before they'd managed to make it back into space. They hadn't heard anything from anyone for two whole days, and then, suddenly, Keith's signal had pinged onto their screens, flashing his location in a nearby solar system.
Lance had immediately set Blue to follow the signal, tersely telling Hunk to wait just in case it was a trap, or in case they received a signal from the others in the meantime.
"I see him," Keith says, because he can. Lance's own signal is drawing ever closer to his own, advancing faster than Keith thought Blue was capable of. He'll probably be here in less than ten minutes at this pace.
We're gonna be fine, he thinks at Red, who wearily acknowledges him but doesn't respond. She's been pulling in energy from this planet since they crashed, since Keith realized that her power was completely depleted and it was impossible for him to fix her on his own. She'd finally pulled in enough to start the comms system back up again just a little while ago, and they'd thankfully reached Lance and Hunk immediately.
Keith doesn't want to think about why Lance isn't talking to him right now, doesn't want to think about the way his stomach is tying itself in knots remembering of all the things they haven't said. The words he'd swallowed back down a few days ago are still in his throat, waiting to come up, but he doesn't know how to let them out now. They haven't really been alone since then, too caught up in their mission and then in Allura being kidnapped to deal with -- whatever was happening.
He hates being unsure, because he's spent so much of his life working to have control over everything, to make sure that he was never left wondering what he should have done, or could have done. He doesn't want to feel helpless anymore, doesn't want to be the one left alone in the end again, the way he's always left alone. It's not like him to have all of these doubts, and part of him hates Lance for making him feel this way. The rest of him just wants to see Lance again and just tell him how he feels. He's anxious at the thought, but it has to be better than living like this, caught between the truth and the unknown.
Blue hits the ground hard enough to shake Red's body a little, and Keith tells Hunk that Lance has arrived and then takes his helmet off, setting it in his seat gently.
He makes his way out of Red, squinting through the dust just beginning to settle from the impact, trying to spot Lance. There's a shadowy figure making its way towards him, tall and lean and painfully familiar -- his heart trips a little, something that's also becoming familiar, as Lance walks towards him.
"Hey," he says, trying to smile as Lance finally reaches him. Lance doesn't smile back, just keeps walking forward, face set with something that kind of looks like determination. "Thanks for coming to get us, I wasn't--"
He's cut off by Lance's mouth crashing onto his, closed lips against his slightly open ones. His eyes go wide but he can't see anything as his vision blurs, and then he realizes what's happening and kisses back, hands coming up to grip Lance's shoulders tightly. It's awkward, because he ends up closing his mouth around Lance's lower lip and pulling without meaning to, but that makes Lance gasp into his mouth a little, and from there things get -- really good. Lance's hands come up to cup his face, and Keith tilts his head a little, and it's warm and soft and he's kissing Lance. It's not the most skillful or impressive kiss of Keith's life so far, but it's the quite possibly the best one, just because it's Lance.
Keith only realizes that he's closed his eyes when they pull apart, and he opens them to find Lance staring straight at him, mouth curved at the edges in that crooked smile. His thumbs brush along Keith's cheekbones once before he lets him go.
"You're welcome," Lance says, and it takes Keith a moment to realize he's picking up the thread of conversation as if he hadn't just completely disrupted Keith's entire life with a kiss on some strange planet in the middle of an unknown galaxy. Keith cannot believe this is his life.
"What was that?" he asks, and Lance takes his hand, pulling him towards Blue. He looks incredibly pleased with himself, lips curled up into a satisfied grin, and Keith kind of wants to hit him and kind of wants to kiss him again. He cannot believe this is his life.
"A kiss," Lance says, glancing at him sideways and raising an eyebrow. "You do know what a kiss is, right?"
"Lance," Keith says, smiling with all of his teeth bared. Lance's own smile fades a little. "Don't fuck with me right now."
Lance tightens his hand around Keith's as they step into Blue, and he waits until the ramp closes up behind them before he says anything else.
"I just -- wanted to make sure I did that before anything could interrupt us, or before I lost my nerve." Lance doesn't look nearly as confident now as he had earlier, and he avoids Keith's gaze as he pulls him towards the cockpit. Keith nearly stumbles as Lance's pace picks up because his mind is too busy processing what Lance is saying.
"And you did it because?" Keith asks, and Lance turns to look at him and makes a face.
"Dude. Do I have to spell it out for you?" Lance sits in the pilot's chair and it pulls him up to the console; Blue brushes briefly against Keith's mind in welcome, and Keith acknowledges her with an absent hello.
"Yes," Keith answers, because he doesn't want to spend another few weeks agonizing over everything, doesn't want to leave anything to chance -- they've both almost died so many times in such a short period, and Keith is done losing people, is done letting his words go unspoken. He leans over the back of the chair and puts his hand over Lance's on the controls, stilling his movement gently.
Lance inhales sharply and then exhales. His whole body moves with it, chest rising and falling, and Keith can't help it -- he likes Lance so much, likes his exaggerated movements and his long, clumsy legs and his startling blue eyes. He likes his ridiculous mouth, the way he laughs and smiles and shouts all the time, even when it's not necessary.
Keith sighs, dropping his head so that his cheek rests against the top of Lance's head. "Please say it."
"Um," Lance says, sounding strangled. "I just -- I like -- you, I like you," he continues, and Keith's heart pounds loudly in his chest as Lance stumbles on, "And I just wanted to --"
"Um, guys?" Hunk says, and Keith jerks up and flushes scarlet. Lance actually yelps, jumping a little in his seat. Keith groans inwardly; he should have realized that because they're inside the cockpit, they would start transmitting to Hunk. Lance is just as red as he is, even the back of his neck turning pink, and Keith kind of wants to laugh at him, kind of wants to press his mouth to that blush and see what Lance would do. "Not trying to interrupt, just wanted to say that I think I've got a lock on Pidge, and I think we should go find them."
"Right!" Lance says, high pitched, still red. "Awesome! We'll meet you in an hour or so where you are, thanks Hunk, over and out!"
"Wait, Lance, don't turn--" Hunk is abruptly cut off as Lance jams his finger down onto a button, and the cockpit goes completely silent. Keith thinks Blue might be laughing at them, but it's muted enough that it's hard to tell.
The silence stretches out again. Lance isn't saying anything, head tilted down so that Keith can't see his expression, shoulders rising and falling gently. Keith bites his lip, rolling Lance's words around in his his head, absorbing them and feeling that warmth spread from his stomach to the rest of his body, taking up residence in his heart. He lets go of Lance's hand, sliding his palm up Lance's arm until it rests at his shoulder. He takes a deep breath. In and out. Exaggerated movement. Lance makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.
"Me too," Keith says carefully, trying to be as brave as Lance, and feels his mind finally settle as Lance turns to smile at him.