Work Text:
Keith's chest rises and falls alongside the faint beeping of the heart monitor, soundly sleeping as the hospital bustles outside of his private room.
In the visitor's chair beside him, Lance peruses an outdated pop star magazine. He hasn't left the building since Keith's procedure and doesn't plan to until he's finally cleared. The procedure, or surgery, was a shoulder arthroscopy performed by the Garrison's best. Lance has been waiting around since early afternoon, as he's designated himself as Keith's caretaker through this whole ordeal.
It all started with a text message a few weeks ago.
(02:00) Hey, Lance. Do you know if the Garrison infirmary takes walk-ins?
He almost chalked it up to a simple hallucination because Keith messaging him? After the war finally started to settle, the two didn't talk much. It wasn't anything personal; they were just busy with their new lives after ridding the universe of a tyrannical evil.
Keith was off leading the new and improved Blade of Marmora, transforming their once secret society into a successful humanitarian organization, all while providing incredible PR for Galrans across the known universe. Basically, from what Lance has heard and known for a while now, Keith's the embodiment of a bright future for universal diplomacy.
Lance, though? He didn't have much going on. To be fair, Shiro did offer him a position on the Atlas that he quickly turned down for a, quote, "Simpler life." But that simplicity wasn't getting him anywhere.
He was bored. Really, really bored.
Which made him text Keith back way too fast with:
(02:01) i'm not sure… they'd probably make room for you though
He thought about the exchange for a second longer.
(2:01) wait Keith why do you need the infirmary
Just as the last message sent, Veronica barrelled into his room like a battering ram.
"What are you—?!"
Her hand smacked against his mouth to shut him up. She stood there in her pajamas, phone pressed to her ear.
"Keith's what?" She said in disbelief, "Hang on."
Ignoring Lance's concerned expression, she put the phone on speaker as one hand held her temple.
"Babe, repeat what you just said to me."
Acxa's voice carries through, "…I asked if it's common for human joints to disappear. You asked me why. I said Keith's shoulder is gone."
"Gone?!" Lance yelled frantically. Did Keith seriously text him like a normal person when—?!
"Oh, hello, Lance," She greeted, undisturbed. "Yes. The area where it should be is flat. I don't know what did but—Wait, Zethrid, be careful—!"
A loud yelp echoed through the phone just as Zethrid whooped in excitement.
"Hey, it's back!"
The two McClains shared a traumatized look. Acxa awkwardly cleared her throat.
"We'll be at the Garrison in a varga."
As it turned out, Keith suffered an injury during the trials that now caused his shoulder to dislocate under sudden pressure. It apparently happened once on his time-warping space whale adventure and has certainly worsened due to Keith's ignorance of the problem.
"I can manage it myself. I'll be fine." He said to the doctor. Very confidently, Lance will add. Though hope was soon lost when the doctor said that if Keith didn't have this particular surgery ASAP, the muscle would deteriorate and he'd never return to field work again.
Yeah.
"Laannce," Keith calls sweetly. Lance lowers the magazine to his lap just as a goofy smile overtakes Keith's face. He has never heard, or seen, the ex-paladin in such a state, and it makes Lance wonder why he's acting so—?
Oh. Duh. He's high as hell.
Lance sends a fond smile back, already thoroughly entertained by Keith's blissed-out form.
"Hey, man. How're you doing?"
Keith's eyes are half-lidded as he takes in his surroundings.
"What time s'it?
"Just past 6. You got out of surgery around 4."
Keith hums.
"Are you in any pain?" Lance asks.
Keith shakes his head as his eyes shamelessly rake over Lance's frame. He sinks further into the mattress, fully content.
The sheer vulnerability radiating off of Keith does something to Lance's chest. He clears his throat to try to dissolve the tension permeating throughout the room.
"Do you need anything? I can grab you more blankets. I hear the nurses heat them up beforehand." Keith closes his eyes and thinks, too drowsy to make up his mind right away as usual.
Then, in what must be a fit of delirium, says…
"M'okay, sweetheart."
Did—? What?
"Actually…" Keith smacks his lips and swallows, meeting Lance's eyes, giving him zero time to recover. "Water?"
Lance stares blankly for a moment.
"My throat feels funny."
He jumps to his feet.
"Yup! Yeah, I can—I can go ask. I'll be right back. With the—the water. Yeah," He stammers as he backs toward the door. He bumps into the wood with a soft thud.
He's gonna decide that Keith didn't just say that. No way. Lance has just been here too long reading about all those celebrities he's never heard of. Yeah. Keith didn't call him that.
Nope.
"B-Be right back," He laughs nervously, hand outstretched to the door handle.
"Thanks," Keith's voice oozes with adoration, "love you."
One blink and Lance is suddenly at the nurse's station with a cup of water in his right hand and a warm blanket draped over his shoulder. He doesn't even remember leaving the hospital room.
The room where Keith just said he loved him.
This is gonna be a long week.
Lance doesn't get much use out of his Garrison-issued apartment. If anything, he uses it whenever he needs a break from his family. He loves them all to death. Would truly do anything for them. But, sometimes….they're a lot. The McClains are a lot, so it made sense to convert his apartment into the perfect place for Keith's recovery.
There weren't many other options besides Keith's shack, which was completely out of the question, mind you. There was no way in hell Lance could nurse him back to health with a box of Hamburger Helper and a twenty-year-old futon. He'd need some sort of divine miracle to pull that off.
Keith spent the morning unpacking his belongings while Lance gave Kosmo the DO NOT JUMP ON OR TELEPORT YOUR DAD training. It felt…domestic, in a way. Reminiscent of their days living together on the Castle of Lions before it all went south.
Before Keith left, Lance's brain supplied. He promptly ignored that heart pang as he always did.
When Lance opens the door for their first night post-surgery, Keith hobbles inside. Kosmo perks his head up and soon bounds toward his papa.
Lance holds up a hand to stop him, and the wolf skids across the floor, stopping only a few feet away from the pair.
"Kosmo."
He whines.
"What did I tell you? Be nice."
Kosmo continues his jaunt over to Keith, much slower this time, and rubs his head against his side
It's weak, but Lance swoons over a faint, "Good boy," as Keith runs his good hand through Kosmo's fur.
Lance eventually leads Keith to the bedroom, guiding him by the small of his back as they go. The room is basic. King-sized bed, dresser, a small television, a window overlooking the gray and orange Garrison complex. Lance would prefer some more decor, but he's not around enough to truly make this house a home.
"Alrighty, you ready to take the train to sleepy time junction?"
Keith's brows furrow, "I gotta call Acxa."
"Uh. Why?"
Keith is looking at him like he has three heads. "…To debrief the mission today?"
Lance almost laughs. Almost.
"Your mission is to lie down and chill. They'll survive a week without you."
"But I feel fine." Keith says with a bloodstained bandage the size of Mt. Rushmore decorating his left shoulder.
Lance isn't impressed. "You're entire side is numb thanks to that huge needle they jabbed in your neck. Once that wears off, it's no bueno."
"I have painkillers for the whole week—!"
"Keith," Lance warns, "get in the damn bed."
Keith huffs, annoyed, but soon concedes. He slowly sits on the plush comforter, careful not to jostle his shoulder too much. Lance crouches to the floor unprompted and starts to remove his slippers.
"Once you're settled, I'll go grab the ice box and set that up. It should keep your ice pack nice and cold all night." Lance sets the shoes near the bedside table. "I know you're not gonna make it easy for me to help you, but call for me if you're hurting, okay? It's why I'm here."
Keith looks down at him curiously and swallows.
"Where—Where are you sleeping?"
"The couch. It pulls out," Lance says as he points over his shoulder to the living room.
The man above him makes a noise akin to a whine. He's forced to look up and meet Keith's disappointed stare.
"…You don't want to sleep with me?"
Wow.
"N-No! I mean, uh, listen…" Lance stammers. He thinks of an excuse quickly, hands moving erratic, "I-I don't think you'd want me next to you when I sleep like a starfish, y'know? The last thing I want is to hurt you by accident."
"You won't," Keith cuts in. His eyes remind Lance of a puppy whose toy is stuck in the washing machine. Helpless and sorrowful.
Keith is clearly out of his damn mind. First with the pet names, then the L word, and now he wants them to sleep in the same bed together? Like it's no big deal? Like they didn't skip every part of getting together in the first place?
"Let—Let me set you up first."
He goes through the checklist in his mind to efficiently maximize Keith's comfort level. Ice pack? On. Pillows? Fluffed and propped. Keith? Snug as a bug in a rug.
Seeing him in such a state only proves that Lance was not mentally prepared for any of this. Stupid Keith had to go and make it so much more complicated by dangling the one thing Lance can't have in front of his face. He should say no. He should've told him that they weren't a couple back in the hospital, shut it down before it turned into something he couldn't control.
Keith reaches out his good hand and tugs on Lance's shirt.
It'll be fine. Lance thinks as he climbs into bed, Keith's hand finding his own under the covers.
"Wake me up if you need me, okay?"
"Mhm."
"Night, Keith."
"G'night, baby."
Soooo fine.
It wasn't fine.
They both thought the numbing agent would last a little longer, but Lance awoke to Keith clutching his shoulder in sobs that later continued for the next 48 hours. No amount of medication would ease the pain that Keith described as, "A thousand leprechauns jack-hammering my shoulder with knives," and Lance was out of options.
He's made over a dozen ice packs, gave him as much medicine as he could, and cuddled him like no tomorrow. Yeah, Lance gave up trying to dance around Keith's drug-induced reality where they're actually together pretty quickly. His resolve disintegrated when he realized that what Keith needed was stability, and by god was Lance going to give it.
It's surreal, really—going from barely speaking to a couple overnight. Lance doesn't even want to think about the confrontation after all this is over. Will Keith be mad? He thought as he kissed Keith's forehead. Does he actually love me? He said. Out loud. In the shower. As Keith slept.
Keith fainted twice, threw up thrice, and could only hold down water and rice. It got to the point where Lance nearly brought him back to the emergency room, but one call to the hospital shut that down.
"That's normal in the recovery process," The nurse said. "If the pain continues at that level into next week, then I'd suggest bringing him back in."
Lance relayed that information to Keith, who just sighed and said, "You're stuck with me, then."
"I'm never stuck with you, Keith. I'll stay as long as it takes."
"I know, it's just—" Keith exhaled, defeated. Whatever self-deprecating comment died and morphed into the fourth, "I love you," of the week.
Lance never said it back, as him saying it made it real, but reciprocated as much as he could through action. He tucked him in, turned the TV to old South Park reruns (Keith's personal favorite. He likes Kenny the most.), and sat on the couch rethinking every decision he's ever made in his life.
The fifth day gave them some reprieve.
Keith awoke from a long night's rest and didn't immediately start crying out in agony. He was lucid, joking around in his unique way, and overall feeling like himself again. Lance counted this as an absolute win and rewarded Keith with a trip to the living room.
After he set him on the couch, Lance opened the windows to let the fresh spring air waft through the apartment. Kosmo lay carefully by Keith's side. Right before Lance could join them and introduce Keith to a corny dating show, the doorbell rang it's consistent tune.
Peaking through the peephole, Lance saw a woman holding two medium-sized bouquets and a gift basket in her arms. He promptly opens it, confused as ever.
"Uh, hi?"
"Delivery for Keith Kogane?"
Lance looked between the beautiful swaths of colorful petals. A smile grew across his face.
"Yeah, he's here. Thank you."
"Someone's popular." Lance jokes as he sets the gifts down on the coffee table. They partially obstruct the view to the TV, but Keith doesn't seem to mind.
He tilts his head and asks, "Who sent them all?"
Lance reads the note from the bouquet of daisies first: "Keith, you better heal up soon or we'll sue Lance for medical malpractice." Keith snorts. "The universe feels empty without you kicking ass out here. We love you! - Pidge & Hunk."
"Medical malpractice, my ass. I'm the reason you're still alive!" Lance grumbles as Keith laughs for the first time in days. He points to the center one—a beautiful mix of lavender and sunflowers.
"What about that one?"
Lance reads, "Keith, out of the two of us, I'm surprised you're the one needing immediate medical attention. You'll get through this fine. I know you will. Love, Shiro (PS. Call me once in a while so I don't get a major life update of yours through the grapevine.)"
"Did he just 'the phone works both ways' you?"
Though Lance was joking, Keith folds into himself self-consciously. "Look, I don't wanna bother him with this." He gestures to his shoulder. "He has a lot going on."
"It's Shiro, dude, a call from you would happily distract him from all that Atlas stuff," Lance reminds him. "We'll talk to him later, alright?"
Keith lets out a deep breath. "Fine. What about that?"
He nods toward the gift basket as Lance grabs the card from the top. It's an assorted mix of snacks, teas, and other thoughtful home remedies.
"Keith, I'll be back on Earth once the Catenata Resettlement is agreed upon, which will hopefully be soon. While you told me to go, I still regret not being there for you. But I know you're strong, and I know somewhere your father is deeply proud of your resilience. I love you more than you know. See you soon. Love, Mom." The sincerity of the letter makes Lance's chest tighten, but it's quickly thwarted when sniffles grab his attention like a vice.
Keith's good arm covers his face as his body succumbs to the myriad of emotions swirling around in there. He lets out a few choked sobs as Lance lowers himself to his level.
Gently, Lance pulls the obstruction away so he can meet Keith's gaze. He swipes at a stray tear.
"You okay?"
"I just—" Keith swallows the lump in his throat. "It's overwhelming, I think."
"That so many people care?"
"That people…love me? I guess?" Keith nods, lightly chuckling as he says, "It's funny that it took reality collapsing for my life to come together."
"You deserve love, Keith." Lance blurts out. He's about to dig himself into a deep, deep hole with this, but Keith needs to hear it. "Yeah. Fine, you were an angry kid. An angry kid who went through hell to save this, and every reality, even if it killed him." He has to hear it. "I don't know where, or who, I'd be if we hadn't met, but—fuck, I'm so happy we did."
Lance pauses his almost-confession as he takes a breath in. "So, give yourself a little more credit, okay?"
Their eyes meet, and God, the look on Keith's face. It screams safety, it screams adoration, warmth, so much love.
"Lance," Keith reaches out to grab Lance's left hand and brings it to his cheek, beckoning him with his gaze. "Come here."
He's pulled in toward Keith like the rising tide on a summer day. Their noses brush, breaths linger, lips barely touch as Keith whispers…
"I love you so much."
A deep pit forms in Lance's stomach.
No.
This is wrong.
Before Lance has the chance to, Keith suddenly pulls from their embrace to look at the hand in his own, inspecting it like he's never seen a hand before.
Lance coughs as he raises a brow, "You okay, man?"
"Where's your ring?"
Lance retreats farther as if struck.
His…ring?
"Where—? The indent isn't even here." In a state of almost panic, Keith sits, racking his brain for some kind of explanation that Lance is oblivious to.
"Oh, no." Keith realizes as he turns to Lance, dead serious. "Have I not proposed to you yet?"
Lance stares.
And stares.
And stares.
Keith mistakes the confusion entirely. "Shit. I meant—I meant to keep that more of a secret…" He continues his explanation, but Lance can only hear ringing static as his heart drops.
Keith thought they were engaged.
He thought they were engaged.
And Lance led him on for days.
"I'm really sorry to just blindside you like this without talking about it first—"
"Keith."
Guilt overtakes Lance's body as he realizes how messed up of a situation this is. He can't keep this going anymore. It's already gone too far.
"We aren't—we aren't together at all."
Now it's Keith's turn to stare.
And stare.
And stare.
The regret of prolonging this whole charade forces Lance to explain himself.
"B-Back at the hospital, you told me you… loved me." Lance takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to cry. "I don't know if it was the drugs, or a crazy dream you had under anesthesia or something, but you thought we were together. You were in pain, but you were so happy that we were—that I just couldn't, I couldn't…" He trails off. There's truly no way to explain himself without coming off as a selfish asshole.
But, isn't that what he was? Selfish to let this go on just to feel a shred of affection from someone he could never have?
The man in front of him is silent for a long while, clearly struggling to process his words.
Keith finally looks at him, mortified, as he whispers, "Why didn't you tell me?"
There's no better answer than the truth.
"Because I wanted it to be real."
…
To Keith, it is.
He knows it's real.
He knows it's real because he saw it, and the realization is dawning on him that he just spent the last week freaking Lance out because he got fucking confused.
He knew it was weird for Mom to mention Catenata Resettlement, as that happened two years ago. Well, Keith guesses it's happening now, and whatever time he thought it was is actually two years in the future.
The future where he and Lance are engaged by now.
Fuck.
Fuck.
That anesthesia really messed him up good.
His mind lovingly reminds him how he begged Lance to sleep in bed with him on that first night, how many times he told him he loved him this past week… Jesus, if it were any normal person in this scenario, they surely would've been scared off by Keith's bluntness by now. He honestly wouldn't blame Lance if it did.
Because I wanted it to be real.
It rings in his head as the two sit there in silence. Keith usually likes the quiet, but this is just something else. If this conversation goes south, the future he's thought to be true gets thrown right out the window and back in his face. It was a comfort, in a way, knowing that he and Lance would build a life together, even if Keith never knew the when or the how. It was always there, anchoring him back to Earth after each and every mission. It gave him hope of a home to come back to.
To think he could lose it all over a stupid drug-induced misunderstanding…
The thought makes him sick.
Keith made a promise to himself to take those visions to the grave, and that won't ever, ever change, but right now the ball is in his court as Lance looks five seconds away from bursting into tears.
Well.
The future depends on what you do today, so the saying goes.
"Look at me." Keith gently prompts. He grabs hold of Lance's hand once more, the one where a ring will hopefully sit one day, and squeezes. "I-I had a dream when I was under, and I woke up thinking—thinking that you were mine. And…it really wasn't how I wanted to tell you, but what I feel for you is real. Has been for a long time." The boy standing above him shakes, swallowing the lump in his throat. "We can make it real."
"A-Are you sure it's not the drugs talking? Or the pain? You could still be delirious—"
"Lance," Keith interrupts. "Is being with me something you want?"
The vulnerability seeps off of Lance in waves as he nods once, shy and nervous. The next nod is more confident, as if he's realizing that he can have this, that he deserves love just as much as Keith.
"Yeah?" Keith caresses Lance's hand. He's still a bit timid, most likely from disbelief.
"You're not mad?"
"Never," Keith affirms. "I'm the one who jumped a few steps in the first place."
"…Okay."
"Okay…?"
"I-I want you—to be with you. I mean." It's awkward. Delicate. So Lance that it has Keith fawning over the beautiful boy right in front of him. The sight nearly sets Keith on fire.
He laughs as the fear of rejection leaves his chest, "Oh, thank god. That would've been really awkward for the rest of the week if—"
Lance shuts him up with a sudden press of lips as his hands cradle Keith's face. He could spend forever right here, though it would rob him of the bright future still intact, their bright future, but a few extra moments never hurt anybody.
Lance pulls away from the kiss to gauge Keith's reaction. He can practically hear Lance asking Was that okay? Was it good? Did you like that? Are you sure it was good? But Keith stops him before he starts.
"I should send that doctor a gift basket."
Lance stares at him, incredulous, but soon breaks into a soft smile Keith's only seen in fantasy.
"You're insane, did you know that?"
"For you, maybe."
Lance laughs, loud and carefree, as he dives in to kiss him again. Their lips meet in a soft yet desperate dance; it deepens as Keith maneuvers Lance into his lap. The move causes his shoulder to flare up in a fit of pain that Keith promptly ignores.
Worth it, he thinks. So worth it to finally have this kind, nurturing boy in his arms.
Keith makes a mental note to spoil Lance senseless once he can leave the apartment. Maybe a beach day followed by a romantic dinner under the stars?
Nah, not yet.
He'll tuck that plan away for a later date.