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“Are you just going to keep sitting there?” Shiro towered over Keith, blocking the rays of sun from blinding him. They shone around his head in an arch, reflecting off his white hair in a way that almost looked angelic. Keith, being his little brother and having grown up with him, knew better, though.
With a soft whirr, Shiro’s robotic arm floated down and flicked a strand of hair out of his face.
“Yes,” Keith bristled and pushed away the metal fingers, which were somehow still cool to the touch despite the sweltering heat outside.
Shiro huffed, taking another sip of his bright blue cocktail decked out in obnoxiously large slices of alien fruit and a parasol.
“Stop brooding for once and go have fun,” he chastised and walked away, joining Adam on the sunbed.
Yes, they shared one sunbed because they were disgusting and in love and technically still on their honeymoon, according to Shiro, even though it’d been three whole months since their official honeymoon trip to Luxia. But Keith digressed.
A teasing bead of sweat slid down his temple, stinging his dry skin. He could almost hear a certain ex-Red Paladin yelling at him to put on sunscreen.
“Yo, Mullet! Come join us!” the same boisterous voice called from between the ocean waves, and Keith sighed tiredly.
He turned his head towards where Pidge was perched on Hunk’s shoulders, trying to push down on Lance’s head and drown him. He pointedly averted his gaze from the flex of Lance’s muscles as he tried to keep himself upright and above the water. Keith also ignored the invitation, closing his eyes and flopping back onto his beach towel.
It was a few minutes of peace before he felt something drip onto his bare chest and tickle his right peck. He reluctantly opened his eyes and had to refrain himself from yelping as he was met with Lance’s grinning face inches away from his.
“Get out of my face, Lance.”
But Lance, in true ‘Lance’ fashion, did not leave Keith alone as requested, instead dropping to his knees and burying his hands into the scorching sand. Next thing Keith knew, the granules were invading his body and hair as Lance sprinkled them over him by the handful.
“Lance! What the– what is wrong with you, stop,” he protested, trying to weasel away from Lance’s assault.
“Oh, look at that, now you have no choice but to join me in the water,” Lance smirked, looking all too cocky. A dimple formed on the corner of his mouth that Keith had to almost physically restrain himself from reaching out to touch.
He rose from the sand-covered blanket slowly, standing to his full height, which, to his pleasure, was still taller than Lance. His face smoothed, and he put on the most unimpressed expression he could muster, walking towards him until they were almost toe to toe. He leaned in, secretly appreciating the way Lance cheeks flushed from their proximity.
“Fine,” Keith replied simply and scooped Lance into his arms, princess-carrying his thrashing limbs towards the ocean.
“Put me down!” Lance kicked and punched Keith’s chest to no avail, ultimately giving up when he accepted that he was no match for his “freakish Galra strength”. He went completely limp in his arms as they reached the water, causing Keith to stumble with the new distribution of weight, so, naturally, as penance, he plopped Lance into the crystal blue water, snorting when the man reemerged with his hair plastered over his eyes.
“Oh, it’s fucking on.”
Lance lunged at him, going for his middle. His arms reached around his torso, and Keith squealed as the coolness of the water touched his heated skin. Distantly, he could hear Hunk and Pidge pitting them against each other, but Keith couldn’t hear anything over the slide of Lance’s hands over his naked back. It all came crashing down on him when Lance dove underwater and manhandled Keith onto his shoulders.
Scandalised, Keith pulled at his hair, protesting as he realised the position he was in – Lance’s head between his legs and his hands firmly gripping his calves. It made the sunburn against his cheeks burn hotter. He tried pulling on Lance’s hair harder to put him down, but the action was pointless.
“That shit doesn’t work on me, Samurai. I have four siblings,” Lance sing-songed as he walked them deeper into the ocean.
That was when Keith’s panic really started to kick in.
“Lance, don’t–“
“Huh? What’s that? Sorry, can’t hear you over these crashing waves!”
Keith’s grip on Lance’s hair turned desperate, his thighs tensing as Lance suddenly stopped. His chin was barely above water, and Keith knew he was only keeping them afloat by standing on his tippy toes.
“Lance, I’m serious, I can’t–“
“Whoops,” Lance pushed his legs off his shoulders, and Keith fell backwards into the ocean.
Keith’s arms sluggishly swung around in the water as he desperately tried to get his feet under him. Only the oncoming waves were disorienting him, and with the added volume, he realised with panic that his feet couldn’t reach the ocean floor. He shot his arm out towards the first thing he could find, which was Lance’s bicep, and clung onto it for dear life. Ragged breaths escaped him as his head broke through the surface of the water, choking on it.
“What the hell are you doing?! Get off me!” Lance tried pushing him off, struggling to keep them both afloat, but Keith just held on tighter.
“I can’t fucking swim, Lance!” he shouted, fear seizing his chest as he realised just how far out of his element he was.
Lance whipped around to glare at him, flecks of seawater flying off his hair. He opened his mouth, no doubt to spew something annoyed when he was interrupted by the looming monstrous wave heading towards them.
Scrambling, Keith clutched onto Lance’s shoulders, trying to get himself to higher ground as the wave approached, but he just ended up pushing Lance’s head underwater. Lance splashed around, trying to dislodge his hands and ended up harshly throwing them off. Without his support, Keith was swept away, each rocking of waves dragging him further and further down into their depths.
He’d just about thought he’d die there, on some beach in Cuba, having survived an entire alien war only to be defeated by Earth’s own H2O, when he felt arms encircle his waist from behind, and the next thing he knew, he was gasping for breath on the surface, hacking out loud coughs.
“I got you,” Lance soothed over his shoulder. He leant back, balancing Keith’s weight against his chest. His legs kicked powerfully underwater, keeping them parallel and above the surface, and Keith barely had the wherewithal to find it hot. “You’re okay.”
Keith’s hands tightly gripped Lance’s arms, not relenting even when they reached a depth at which they could both stand. He cautiously set his feet down but kept his arms where they were, as if afraid he’ll get swept up again in the tide.
“Come on, you big baby, you’re fine now,” Lance pointed out, but made no effort to move away either.
Feeling the adrenaline slowly leave his body, Keith turned around and buried his face into Lance’s neck, just resting there as his heartbeat calmed down. A hand rubbed gentle circles into his back, guiding his breathing into something steadier.
“Sorry,” Lance whispered into his soaking hair, squeezing him once.
Keith could feel the guilt radiating off of him stronger than the heat of the sun above them. He didn’t even know why he was so freaked out; he’d been through so much worse! Maybe because in every gruesome battle, he was under control. The ocean, though, was unforgiving. It didn’t care about your swordsmanship, its only job was to ebb and flow with the tide. And if you got swept up in it, the fault was yours alone.
“You know, you’re lucky I used to be a lifeguard. You could’ve drowned us both back there.”
Keith stiffened. “You nearly killed me, and you’re blaming me?” He smacked Lance’s shoulder, untangling himself from the loose confine of his arms.
The tension of the moment was broken as Lance threw his head back in a cackle and let him escape, watching as he not-so-gracefully stumbled with the force of another wave. He glared at Lance when the other bent over with laughter, clutching his stomach like a cheap Christmas Santa decoration.
“You should–“ he gasped between chortles, “you should see yourself. You’re like a disgruntled wet kitten.”
His mockery didn’t amuse Keith in the slightest.
“I hate you,” he stated and started walking back to shore, ignoring the obnoxious pleas Lance threw at his retreating form. He wasn’t actually upset, just feeling a little frazzled and way too hot for his liking, so, grabbing his flip flops, Keith made his way back to Lance’s house.
He took no time shuffling into the bathroom for a shower, wincing when he caught his reddened skin in the mirror. The cool water soothed the sting slightly, but not entirely, and the rough drag of the towel over his skin just made him grit his teeth.
Keith forewent putting on clothes, seeing as he’d actually forgotten to grab clean ones on his way in, craving, instead, to scrub the sand and salt out of his hair as quickly as possible. When he left the bathroom, hair dripping water down his naked chest, he was once again thrown face to face with Lance.
“What the fuck!” he shrieked, jumping back an inch and instinctually clutching the towel on his hips.
“Jeez, you’re so jumpy,” Lance smirked, eyeing his frazzled expression.
Keith didn’t like the look one bit. He frowned.
“What are you doing here?”
“Um, I live here?” Lance said, like it was obvious.
Keith groaned and pushed his way past him through the door.
“I know that, idiot. Why’d you follow me?”
He made his way to Lance’s room, which, given the fact that he lived in a two-bedroom house, meant that with all of them there, him and Keith were forced to share. Because Shiro was a married traitor and Pidge was a devil instigator, who had no moral qualms taking Hunk as an accomplice with her black magic and mischievous glances.
“Just making sure you’re not brooding on our vacation,” Lance informed, plopping onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Number one rule of rooming with Lance – no sandy feet on his periwinkle sheets.
“I don’t brood,” Keith argued and moved to the dresser to grab some underwear. He didn’t turn around to see if Lance was still watching him, but he could still feel the burning gaze against his back.
“Sure,” Lance drawled behind him, tapping out a beat on the hardwood floors as Keith got dressed.
As he pulled up the fabric to replace the towel around his hips, he let it drop to the floor, and, once again, was startled out of his skin by the two warm hands coming to rest on his shoulders from behind.
“Dude, I told you to wear sunscreen.”
Keith rolled his eyes with a slight wince and turned around.
“Please don’t be annoying about this, it already hurts enough.”
Lance opened his mouth, looking for a second like he might throw something snarky back when he seemed to change his mind, stepping back from him.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered.
“What?” Keith blinked at him.
“Just do it,” Lance whined and ran out of the room.
Grumbling to himself the entire time, Keith did as he was told, perching himself cautiously on the edge of the bed, waiting for Lance to return like an obedient guard dog. God, he hated his feeble self-control when he was around that man. Which he was a lot, recently. No matter how many times Keith ignored his calls or threw his phone at the wall to somehow disappear his messages by brute force alone, the second he saw Lance, he came crawling back into the desperate well of his feelings.
It was annoying, but more than anything, it was exhausting. Keith wasn’t that same shut-out teenager anymore who dismally hoped for any fleeting nicety from Lance. He’d grown up, and so had his feelings. And years after the war had ended, he finally had to look at himself in the metaphorical mirror and accept that they were never going away.
But just because Keith had gone through this journey of self-acceptance, didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like inhabiting the man’s room, every corner littered with little Lance-isms that gave him a sense of home. He didn’t like waking up beside him, being mere inches away from kissing his morning breath, and not being able to. And he definitely didn’t like his friends’ knowing glances thrown his way whenever his gaze turned too soft. Because Lance didn’t feel the same, and that was okay, too.
“Alrighty, Mullet Man, get ready.” Lance entered the room, holding a white tube in his hand.
“What is that?” Keith scrunched his nose as he watched him squirt some of the clear gel into his palm.
“Turn around.”
When Keith did, he felt coolness spread against his shoulders and back. It was jarring, and then the feeling faded into a pleasant numbness as Lance’s hands worked the mystery substance into his skin. It was even difficult for him to keep in the sighs of relief bubbling up his throat as the sting of his sunburn soothed.
“This stuff is like aloe vera on steroids,” Lance’s voice was subdued, like the atmosphere called for something quieter. He was kneeling behind Keith on the bed, forcibly rubbing the knots out of his shoulders as the cream settled into his skin.
“Found it on a swap moon last week. Thought you’d need it after the last time we went to the beach,” Lance chuckled a little. He didn’t flinch away when Keith reached behind him to pinch his thigh, continuing his massaging descent down Keith’s back.
“Here, why don’t you lie down? You’ll be more comfortable.” Lance gently pushed on his shoulders, guiding him face down into the pillows.
Something about spending a summer day roasting in the sun always got Keith sleepy. Paired with the shower and Lance’s hands on his body, Keith felt himself slip into a trance. He only snapped out of it when the lingering touches stopped, and he didn’t have the wherewithal not to whine at that.
“Where are you going?” he croaked, eyes sliding open a crack. He settled more firmly against the sheets, swallowing the distinct smell of Lance with every deep breath.
“Relax, I’m just going for a shower,” Lance said, and then Keith heard him patter away.
By the time he came back, Keith was already in that weird half-asleep state where reality blurred with his dreams, so upon feeling the bed dip beside him, he wasted no time in lazily wrapping an arm around his new body pillow, snuggling into Lance’s back. He felt the man stiffen before relaxing fully into his hold, shuffling backwards until Keith could bury his nose in the soft hairs by his nape.
Lance didn’t feel the same, but it was times like these when even Keith struggled to believe that.
It wasn’t strange, per say, for him to find himself in Lance’s bed like this. Not that they ever did anything untoward, but after countless missions requiring emergency camping and overnight stays at small alien hostels, the prospect of sharing a bed wasn’t novel for them. Over time, the awkward stiffness of making sure their shoulders didn’t brush dissipated, and something about Lance’s presence made him relax from the constant state of preparedness Keith’s body locked into even while asleep. So, he found himself moving in the night – something he never used to do – and waking up curled around the furnace of Lance’s body.
The first time it happened was incredibly awkward, and Keith had dashed out of the room so fast, you’d think it was on fire. But they were both a little lonely, a little scared out in the unfamiliar expanses of space, so the next time they found themselves in that position, Lance hugged him back, stealing some of the comfort for himself.
And somehow, it was even less unnatural that it kept happening even after Keith’s solitary time skip. Except, he was gentler now, less clutching desperately at the safety of Lance’s presence and more savouring his closeness with every drag of fingers over soft skin. Keith started falling asleep holding Lance, all pretence thrown out the window, and Lance always settled into it with a simplicity Keith never stopped to question for too long.
“Is it nap time?”
The rumble of Lance’s voice against his chest ignited something warm and familiar in Keith. He grumbled an affirmative.
“Nearly dying will do that to you.” His fingers found Lance’s in the sheets and pressed gently into the spaces between his knuckles.
“You’re so dramatic.” Keith could practically hear the roll of his eyes. “I was with you the whole time. You wouldn’t have drowned even if you’d tried.”
A hum escaped Keith’s lips. “Should I try next time?”
He received a sharp tug on their hands in retaliation before Lance huffed, “No, you asshole. Go to sleep.”
Later that night, they found their friends huddled by the bonfire in Lance’s backyard, Pidge wolf whistling when they stepped out of the house together. It wasn’t anything new coming from her, and it brought a certain blush to Lance’s face every time, which Keith would never not be grateful for.
Lance looked pretty under the glow of the fire, unbothered as he brought a bottle to his lips. Keith followed the line of his throat with appreciation, watching it bob as he swallowed his drink. They made eye contact over the rim and Lance winked at him, all smug and confident, like he knew exactly the effect it had on him. It was all Keith could do to blame the blush rising on his cheeks on the half-empty beer in his hand.
“We’re out of ice,” Adam noticed when the sun had long set and the food had dwindled to a few scraps.
“I got it,” Keith said and stood from his chair with a groan. Floating from the buzz of something alcoholic in his system, he ventured inside the house and into the kitchen, stopping under the blow of air conditioning to cool off from the heat outside.
“Watcha doin’?” a playful voice droned as another person entered the kitchen a minute later. “Too hot, are ya?”
Lance walked up to him, all rosy cheeks and boyish grin, with a looseness in his limbs Keith was happy to see lingered after the war. He pushed into Keith’s space, walking him backwards until his back dug into a nearby countertop. The air from the A/C unit blew Lance’s hair into little wisps by his face, and Keith never thought he looked so beautiful.
It must’ve shown on his face, because Lance chuckled cockily before wildly throwing his arms over Keith’s shoulders. Keith’s hands didn’t come to rest on his hips like they itched to but instead gripped the counter behind him. He carefully watched the curious glance he got from Lance at the action.
Lance didn’t feel the same, but the weight of his body pressed against Keith’s said otherwise.
“I’m getting ice.”
“You don’t seem like it.”
“Didn’t get the chance to.”
“Oh, am I distracting you?” Lance stepped closer, until the scent of his cologne invaded Keith’s senses.
It made him dizzy, more than the beer he drank and more than the humidity outside. He was sure he could live off the feeling Lance endowed him with from his proximity alone.
“Of course not,” Keith answered, just to keep some feeble dignity intact.
“Really? Because you kind of look distracted right now.” Lance tilted his head slightly to catch his gaze and expose the teasing expanse of his neck.
Keith ran his eyes along the length of it, tracing the skin all the way up to his lips, which were curled in a self-satisfied smirk.
“Well, I’m not,” he swallowed dryly against the widening of Lance’s grin.
“Are, too.”
“Not.”
“Too.”
“Lance,” Keith warned, but Lance just laughed bodily. He dragged one finger under Keith’s jaw, tilting it up.
“Stop looking at my lips, Keith, we are fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“Are, too.”
“Are not.”
“Are–”
Maybe he could blame it on his patience snapping or his lowered inhibitions later, but Keith didn’t let him finish. Lance’s lips were soft, moisturised, because he took skincare almost as seriously as he took the safety of the universe. But the muffled noise Lance let out as their lips met was enough to jar him back into reality, and he started to pull away. Because Lance didn’t feel the same.
Lance didn’t feel the same and yet–
His hand hooked over Keith’s neck and he pressed himself closer, and as their lips slid seamlessly together, it was suddenly obvious to Keith – how much of an idiot he’d been. Because Lance made sure he included Keith in all their social activities, even those he hated, involving the beach, and he soothed his sunburns when Keith was less than bothered to do anything about them. And in moments of weakness, when Keith wasn’t able to physically contain his need to be close, Lance just held him tighter and kissed him back.
Of course Lance felt the same.
When they separated again, Lance brought their foreheads together, fingers drawn into the long strands of Keith’s hair. Somehow, Keith’s hands had migrated to Lance’s hips on their own, resting against the curve of them like they belonged there.
He brought his hand up to Lance’s face then, thumb resting gently over his blue-tinged cheekbone, and kissed him again, finally letting the devotion trapped in his chest run free, only to fall right into Lance’s orbit.
“Where’s the ice?” Adam asked with a knowing smile when they finally rejoined their friends outside a suspiciously long time later.
Keith and Lance stopped in their tracks by the back door, then turned to look at each other. They burst into giggles the second their gazes met, Lance wrapping himself around Keith’s arm as he shook with the force of his laughter. He intertwined their hands, everything falling into place as Keith was dragged back inside his home, this time hopefully to stay.