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It's complex sometimes, Keith thinks, to be in love.
He's had crushes before, sure- usually people he looks up to, but sometimes, just attractive guys- but it's not like he's ever acted on one before. Couldn't find the words, didn't want to take that particular risk- yeah, surprising for him, whatever- so he just sat and admired them when he wasn't otherwise preoccupied, and before he knew it, he'd moved on. That's not real love, or at least he doesn't consider it to be. But now... now...
Lance had confessed to him one day- in private, thank God, which was almost strange to Keith, because, well, Lance had never made his affections with anyone else a secret. It was after a joint training session, both of them exhausted, sweat-slick, a bit short of breath. "Keith," he'd breathed, "we should do this more."
"Yeah," Keith'd replied, "you're a surprisingly good sparring partner," as he slipped his jacket pack on. It wasn't the right response, apparently.
Lance shook his head. "No, no. I mean, yeah," he'd said quickly. "But just... in general. We should hang out, 'n' stuff." He smiled that same doofy smile like he'd pulled on Allura and Nyma and, well, probably others, Keith had come to try to ignore it lately, so he didn't exactly... know. Ever confident, he had kept his eyes on Keith as he added, "You know... alone."
Keith blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Alone? Are you... are you hitting on me?" Even with his bit of social ineptitude, that was pretty easy to see.
Lance'd scoffed. "I am kindly and classily...ly... asking you on a date. Several dates, in fact." He paused, wiping the last bit of sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "...Okay, yes, I'm hitting on you."
"Alright," Keith said after a moment.
Lance's face lit up, and he pumped his fist, looking very, very proud of himself. "Oh Hell y-"
"Wait, no," Keith interrupted, shaking his head. "I meant... I didn't mean yes." Lance's face fell, and Keith flapped his hands in frustration. "I mean... I didn't mean no, though. Maybe." He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed tight across his chest, noting that his heart rate was returning to normal. Whether it had sped up only because he'd been training with someone or also because that someone had started to flirt with him, he wasn't quite sure. "Anyway, I thought you were into girls. Otherwise, you're one hell of a good faker."
A grin appeared on Lance's face again. "I'll have you know that I've finally acknowledged my Raging Bisexuality™," he said, pointing his thumb at himself. "No small thanks to you, even with that mullet."
Keith rolled his eyes at the insult, but there was a bit of laughter in his voice as he muttered, "Why did you say 'TM' out loud...?" After a few seconds of consideration, he said, louder, "I'll give it some thought." His mind was already a quarter made up from the cute- if slightly disappointed- little smile Lance gave him.
And he did think. It didn't take him 10 minutes, or an hour, or a day. It was four days by the time Keith had finally come to a decision. To be fair, he didn't spend 96 straight hours agonizing over if his first boyfriend should be someone so... so... Lance-ish; he had a lot to do, as they all did. Still, he felt his mind wandering to Lance during his free time- he knew better than to lose focus when he fought in the training deck, but when he was exercising in his room or just lounging around, Keith thought of him. Lance was pretty attractive, if not exactly his type- he usually preferred more musclebound guys- but he liked his eyes, and his exuberance. And so, after four days of Lance's hopeful looks over the dinner table, Keith took him aside, a bit nervous as he started, "...Lance..."
Lance looked back at him, squirming in anticipation. "K-Keith?" The corners of his mouth quirked up as Keith, not having planned out how to articulate his agreement, gave a simple nod. The tiny smile had spread into a grin as he pulled Keith in by the shoulders, wrapping his arms around the other boy. "Seriously? W-wait, we're talking about the thing from the other day, right...?"
"Yep," Keith wheezed, lungs cramped in Lance's grip. "You're uh, you're squeezing me a little there." Embarrassed, Lance let him go, and Keith adjusted his now-skewed jacket. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he said, "Yes, Lance, I'll date you. ...Somehow." It was going to be odd, now that he thought about it; because how do you have a date in space? Sure, they set down on planets sometimes, but after they saved whoever or whatever needed saving, they just went right back to the endless abyss of space. Not much room for a date, really.
It seemed that Lance had just realized that fact as well, because his face fell into a contemplative frown. After thinking a few moments, he said, "I guess we could just hang out in each others' rooms and make out, or something...?" He shrugged. "If that works."
At the thought of making out, Keith grimaced involuntarily. Even with people he was used to, excessive touching was... well, a touchy subject, pun unintended. Hand holding is nice, hugging is okay if permission is granted- he'd gotten used to it thanks to a certain team member, but sometimes it's still a bit much- but kissing and cuddling... No thanks, not yet. Maybe it had been a bad decision to accept Lance's advances given that fact, but losing the opportunity was probably not worth it. Realizing he'd been silent that entire time, Keith said quickly, "Let's work up to that, okay?"
Lance had given an odd look at that, but he shrugged it off. "Oh, yeah, sure. I guess that is pretty Keith-y of you."
"...What's that supposed to mean? Should I take that as an insult...?"
"N-nothing, no. ...But come by my room once in a while, okay?"
That was a week and a half ago, and it'd become a custom for Keith to spend at least a couple hours in Lance's room a day- when there was time, anyhow. They used to hang out in his own room sometimes, but in Lance's words, it wasn't home-y enough. Keith had to agree; Lance's room had at least a couple creature comforts, whereas his was pretty much bereft of personality.
It wasn't too terribly entertaining; life in the castle really wasn't, at least to a handful of humans who were used to Earth and generally having to having access to fun things once in a while. Lance had made a habit of wandering around the ship and collecting alien stuff that appeared to be unneeded- some for decoration, some just for fiddling with- and Keith resorted to researching different alien cultures, particularly their fighting styles, compiled by Alteans long ago- 10,000 years out of date, but still pretty useful, hopefully.
Still, there was a sense of togetherness; inevitably, their fingers would weave together, or one of them would rest their head against the other's shoulder; Keith has soft hair and Lance has soft skin, so it's a win-win situation. And one day, Keith realized that, despite his initial hesitancy, he wanted to do more than slide his fingers into the spaces between Lance's, and more than leaning against him, soaking up the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.
"Can I kiss you?" The words were out of Keith's mouth before he even thought through the decision, and his mouth twitched, slightly nervous despite the fact that he knew, logically, he had nothing to worry about; Lance had explicitly told him he wanted to kiss him- make out, even. When he didn't hear a reply for a few seconds, Keith glanced to Lance and almost burst out laughing. "What's with the face?"
Lance's expression was comically surprised, wide-eyed and... it was hard to tell against his dark skin, but was that a blush? His lips curled into a giddy smile as he yelped, "S-seriously!? I thought you'd never ask!" He coughed a little, clearing his throat, then sheepishly asked, "But... uh... is it okay if I kiss you?"
"Um." Keith started to understand why Lance looked so flustered. "...Alright?" he replied, sounding more like a question than a statement at first. "I mean, yeah. Please." There was a second's pause, and then Keith's breath seized in his chest as Lance's soft lips pressed against his own chapped ones, not letting him breathe for what seemed like ages before his lungs started to work again. On instinct, he parted his lips and leaned in, and when Lance put his hands on his thighs, Keith involuntarily made a soft whining noise. The pressure on his lips and legs lifted almost immediately, and he opened his eyes, frowning in confusion. "What're you laughing for? I thought you wanted to kiss me."
Lance had sat back, and, with his hands covering his face, he was giggling, bright- though muffled- laughter filling the room. Eventually, his laughter died town, and he cleared his throat again. "Sorry, I'm sorry. You're just... oh my God, Keith, you're so cute."
Keith pouted, directing his eyes elsewhere, somewhere besides Lance's freshly-kissed face. "The hell? I'm not cute." Now that he thought about it, that was the first time someone had ever called him that; handsome, maybe, but not cute, and definitely not "oh-my-God-you're-so-cute" cute. Still, a smile was finding its way onto his face, and he mumbled, "You are, too, so can I kiss you now?"
Lance nodded passionately and grinned as Keith put a gentle hand against the small of his back and leaned in until their lips met. Slender fingers curled in Keith's hair, pulled him closer until, with a surprised gasp, Lance fell backward onto the mattress so that Keith was propped up above him. "Uh, whoa," he chuckled, then fell silent as he realized his position.
Wide-eyed, Keith looked down at Lance and asked, "I-is this okay...?" There was nervousness tinging his words, fear that his roughness would carry into the one thing he absolutely had to be careful with. He slid his numbing hand out from beneath Lance and laid it on his chest, feeling the boy's heart flutter beneath the fabric and flesh.
Lance trailed one of his hands from Keith's hair down to his cheek, lingering there for a moment before he placed it over the hand on his own chest. "Keith," he said, sternly- but not harshly- "you're too uptight." Keith's eyes drooped, giving him an exasperated look, and Lance snorted in laughter. "It's fine, for real. For such an impulsive guy, you've got such cold feet."
Keith narrowed his eyes. "...What do my feet have to do with anything?" But, if he's okay with it, then... He moved his hand from under Lance's to the side of his head and awkwardly supported himself on his forearms, pressed closer to Lance and continued to kiss him, acutely aware of how bad at he was.
Lance didn't seem to mind much, though; his hands came up to Keith's cheeks, and he rubbed his thumbs in slow, soft circles as he kissed back. He made a low, a happy humming noise, and it was Keith's turn to think, Damn, why's he so cute? After a few minutes' silence, filled only by the soft noises of their lips- though Keith's heart was pounding in his ears almost too loud to hear anything- they broke apart again, each of them breathless.
"...Wow," Lance murmured simply, looking up at Keith with loving eyes. "That was... awesome."
Keith gave a breathy laugh and agreed, "Yeah, you're a better kisser than I thought you'd be." When Lance scoffed, offended, he rolled his eyes. "Kidding, I'm kidding."
"Uh-huh, sure," Lance teased as he wriggled out from under Keith and leaned back against his pillow. "Now c'mere, jerk."
Keith sat back as well- his arms were starting to ache in his less-than-ideal position. With a slightly confused voice, he asked, "...For...?"
"To cuddle," Lance answered as if it was obvious. "It's what boyfriends do... probably."
That's asking a lot, Keith thought, but yet, but yet, it wasn't as if he didn't want to. Truth be told, this was the most amount of (intentional, positive) human contact he'd had since... well, probably since his parents had died. So, for the first time in over a decade, he climbed into someone's- Lance's, his lances- arms, hesitantly laid his head on his chest, and closed his eyes. His body was tense, though he hadn't realized it until Lance put a hand on his back and rubbed it, slow and gentle, at which point Keith practically collapse, allowing himself to relax finally.
"Jeez, man," Lance said, "how much tension are you carrying?" He moved his hand to Keith's shoulder, pressing his thumb deep. "I'll treat you to a McClain massage. if that's okay, anyway."
Keith pressed his face into Lance's collarbone and mumbled, "Some other time. Just let me... lay here... for a little." He missed this, missed being held and missed trusting people enough to hold him. But he really didn't have to miss it anymore, now that Lance was here.
It was a while later that Keith looked up to see Lance dead asleep; apparently, it didnt take him much to get there. He felt himself drifting off, too, exhausted without even realizing it from a morning spent exercising. He almost made a move to get up, but... Lance was warm, and he was soft, and maybe just this once it was alright to relax....?
Keith woke up an embarrassingly long time later, still cradled in Lance's arms, and it was the best nap he'd ever had.