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Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this warm. This comfortable.
He had a feeling it was less from the pillow fort and the three fuzzy blankets Hunk had piled on top of them, and more due to the presence of Hunk himself.
“So can we agree that watching movies is a way better stress reliever than punching holes in the walls?” Hunk asked. The question came almost as soon as the credits started to roll, and Keith sighed. He'd been hoping that after three hours Hunk would have forgotten.
Hunk was looking at him, all concern and kindness and the slightest hint of amusement around the corners of his eyes and lips. It felt… nice.
“I didn’t punch it that hard, but yeah. I guess I see your point,” Keith said with a half shrug. His traitorous lips quirked up at the edges without his permission. They did that a lot around Hunk.
“Holy cow, can you believe it's already 2am?” Hunk laughed, letting him have the out. “Time really flies.”
Taking Hunk's lead, Keith rose to his feet and helped gather up the empty plates. His stomach was still full from the delicious meal Hunk had made him. Far better than the canned foods and takeout he lived off of normally.
“I guess I should head back,” Keith replied, keeping the reluctance out of his tone.
Back across campus to the dorm he shared with Lance, Hunk's childhood best friend. It'd be empty tonight, Lance having gone home for the weekend.
Keith had hoped that the absence of his annoying roommate would give him the peace and quiet he'd need to study, but instead he'd found himself frustrated at his asshole professor.
Prof Iverson had had it in for Keith from the moment he'd first corrected the professor in class. And now he was demanding that Keith rewrite his entire paper. As though it was his fault that Iverson was incompetent and didn't know what he was talking about.
He'd spent the better part of the night pacing around the room like a caged lion. Of course Hunk had chosen the moment he'd broken and punched the wall to let himself in to check on Lance’s plant.
“Or…” Hunk’s voice was soft and hesitant, but present enough to ease the hint of frustration that had built up in Keith's just remembering it. “Or you could stay here? I mean your dorm is really far away, and it's so late…”
Hunk fidgeted, something he did a lot when he was nervous. “It'd be cool, if um, if tonight didn't have to end yet. It's been fun.”
Keith was completely out of his depth, not sure what to do with such an honest desire to be in his company.
“Where would I sleep?”
Unlike Lance and himself, Hunk lived off campus in a one bedroom apartment. Due to the cost he didn't even have a couch, hence the pillow fort for movie watching.
Hunk's cheeks turned a blotchy red, and Keith raised an eyebrow. Whatever he'd done to make that happen, he really wanted to be able to do it again.
“Well um… I mean. There's Fort Voltron, but it's not the most comfortable place to sleep.” Hunk fidgeted, eyes flickering between Keith and the floor.
Keith just stared back, unsure what to say to that. It wasn't like he'd never slept on a floor before, but Hunk certainly wasn't making it sound very appealing.
“But my bed is big enough for two,” Hunk finally managed in a rush, face heating further.
Oh.
Keith felt an answering warmth in his own cheeks, but pushed through the urge to turn his face away. He sort of wished he hadn't worn his red jacket, because he was pretty sure his blush matched it in colour.
“You,” he paused, calculating. “Want me to sleep in your bed?”
Hunk sputtered, eyes growing wide. “That's not- I mean I wouldn't- if you don't want… I mean if you aren't comfortable I can sleep in Voltron and..” Hunk gulped as Keith took a step forward.
“I want to. Sleep in your bed,” Keith said. Hunk stared at him, his expression an absolute mystery to Keith. He’d never been all that great at reading people. A beat of silence passed, then another. “With you,” he finally figured he should clarify.
The slow shift of Hunk's expression from shocked, to awed, to nervously excited made Keith's stomach flutter. It felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, even as he tried to maintain his composure.
But when Hunk closed the distance between them, all thoughts of composure flew out the window. It felt… honestly it felt like his fight or flight instinct was kicking in. Urging him to run, or to deny the affection Hunk was willingly giving.
But he did neither.
In the end he let Hunk's enormous hands rest on his arms, let them pull him in until they were just a whisper away from each other.
“Is this okay?” he asked, as though Keith might pull away. As though he, the one person in their group of friends who seemed to have a near mystical talent for reading people, had somehow misread the situation.
Keith had never been good at talking. Never been good at knowing what to say, especially in a situation like this. So he did what he was best at. He acted.
The kiss was soft and sweet, nothing like the way Keith had ever been kissed before.
“Oh wow,” Hunk breathed after it, his smile just as soft as the kiss.
Embarrassed and pleased, Keith kissed him again, mostly so that he wouldn't have to answer.
“Bed?” He questioned, then regretted it when the look on Hunk's face sent shivers of anticipation through him. There was no way they could do anything like that tonight, when they were both practically asleep on their feet. But the idea of it was… exciting.
Hunk nodded, and Keith was surprised when he grabbed his hand to lead him to his room.
He wasn't sure if he should be grateful or disappointed when Hunk just gave him a shirt to wear to bed and excused himself to the bathroom to change. But he had to admit it was rewarding, seeing how flustered Hunk was to see him in only the oversized shirt and his boxers.
Hunk's arm wrapped around him when they settled in bed, and Keith was certain that he’d never before been this warm and comfortable.
It would take some getting used to, but Keith found he liked it.