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Lance stares out the window of his room in the med wing of the Garrison, the orange glow of a desert sunset softening all the hard, medical edges of the impersonal space. It’s the first time in, like, three days that he’s been entirely alone and it’s both too quiet and not quiet enough. He can hear the hum of the air conditioning unit above his bed, the sounds of footsteps moving up and down the hallway outside his door.
He can hear his breath, and his heart, and he’s thankful. When he woke up two days ago, the world a muffled, cotton-edged blur, he hadn’t been so sure if he’d ever hear again. The explosion had been loud and the following fall to earth had been louder. And hotter. And infinitely more terrifying. He’s glad he doesn’t remember anything, really, other than the overwhelming relief of having succeeded.
Earth was safe. His family was safe. It was the only thing that had mattered; he was glad to have risked his life for this outcome. He’d do it again a million times.
There is a knock on his door, breaking up the not-silent silence in the room. Lance startles at the sudden sound, but relaxes, assuming that it could be Veronica, who had often travelled down the hall from her room to visit, or his mom, who seemed to always be right around the corner, or even Hunk, who had made it his priority to stop in and see Lance at least once a day.
“Yeah? Come on in,” he says absently, still studying the ruined landscape of the desert. It seems kind of strange that a place as desolate as a desert could be ruined, but the flat, hard ground is pocked with proof of the recent battle. It is unnatural. And Lance had never been a fan of the desert - it is too dry and too lonely - but it makes him feel sad all the same. When he sees the destruction like this - permanent and deep - he can’t help but wonder what kind of scars will be left on the rest of the world.
The door slowly opens and Lance smiles, turning his attention leisurely toward the door. “You know you don’t have to -” he cuts off abruptly when it’s Keith standing there, his expression unreadable. Not Veronica, not his mom, and definitely not Hunk. Lance’s mouth goes dry, suddenly feeling very clumsy even though he’s sitting on his bed.
He hadn’t seen Keith hardly at all since the battle. Well, he had, but everyone else had been there, and he hadn’t really talked to Keith at all, who had remained silent and thoughtful, but unshadowed, around the edges of team conversation. It had been fine, and nothing had been awkward. They were all too happy to be alive for anything to have been awkward.
So, he’s caught by surprise when Keith’s sudden and unexpected presence causes him to feel so out of place. For the first time in what could have been a year, he’s faced to face with Keith and they’re alone. Totally alone. His heart skips a beat.
“Uh...hi,” Keith says, sounding a bit out of place himself, meeting Lance’s gaze solidly across the wide space between them. All at once, Lance is unkindly reminded of everything. He remembers the loneliness of Keith’s absence, the months he spent as a miserable 6th wheel in the Castle of Lions, and his bursting happiness when Keith had returned to the team. He remembers his confusion at the sharpness to Keith’s words over the past couple of months.
“Hey, man,” Lance replies, voice strange. It shocks him. “What’s up?”
“Can I come in?” Keith asks after a pause, easily reading the guarded way Lance speaks.
Lance shrugs and looks away, turning his gaze back out the window. He hears as Keith shuts the door behind him and steps further into the room, taking a seat in the chair facing Lance’s bed. Immediately, the air between them feels funky. Thick with tension and all the things that Lance hasn’t said. He says nothing; if Keith wants to talk, he’ll talk. Lance really doesn’t know where he would even start.
“How are you feeling?” Keith asks, still sounding unsure.
“Pretty good, I guess. I mean, we did save the world, after all. And we’re home. It’d be dumb to not be feeling good after all that, right?” He shrugs again. He doesn’t really wanna think about the fact that the Galra are still out there, or that they could be back any moment, so he doesn’t.
“I guess so.” Keith falls silent, but his voice sounds smoother, and even though Lance isn’t looking at him, he can tell that Keith’s posture isn’t so rigid either.
“Do you need something?” Lance asks, even though he told himself he wouldn’t ask.
There is another long, awkward pause, and Lance has half a mind to ask him to leave. In addition to Keith acting even weirder than normal, he can’t quite put a finger on why he feels so unsettled right now. Hyper-aware of Keith, Lance is dismayed to find that the room seems deadly silent now. No air-conditioner, no outside footsteps or voices. It’s suffocating.
“Lance,” Keith says, and there’s sharpness to his voice again. Lance jerks his head around to look at Keith, bristling, ready to argue, but the look on Keith’s face takes all of the defensive fire out of him. The frustration in Keith’s voice isn’t for him, but for Keith himself. “I have a few things to say to you. Could you just...not talk until I finish?”
Lance’s eyes grow wide, and he feels the familiar whiplash coming on. “What? Why?”
Keith breathes out through his nose, and leans back in his chair, brushing a stray piece of his hair out of his face. Lance notices the bandage taped to Keith’s forehead and then the bags under his eyes and he almost feels guilty for feeling so offstandish in the first place. “You’re distracting, that’s why.”
“Distracting…?”
Keith merely raises an eyebrow in askance, refusing to elaborate on that.
Lance, no longer guarded, allows his curiosity to wash over him. He gestures grandly in front of him in an ‘after you’ motion. “Go ahead, team leader. What’s on your mind?”
Keith takes a deep, almost trembling breath, and then sets a firm, unwavering gaze on Lance. His expression is battle-fierce, as though he’s prepared to take down his greatest enemy. “One. I know I haven’t been at my best the past few months. Years? Whatever. It’s no excuse, but I was stressed, and scared. So, I’m sorry for every time I snapped at you. I’m not proud of myself, and you deserved better.”
“Buddy, none of us have really been at our best,” Lance tells him. “It’s -”
Keith scowls, glancing down at his knees. “I told you not to interrupt me, Lance. I -” He opens and closes his mouth, looking for the right words. “Ugh, I suck at this.” It’s weird seeing Keith like this. Keith, who is usually so cool and confident under pressure these days. He takes another breath to steady himself and then is meeting Lance’s gaze once more.
“Two,” Keith tries again. “You’ve been amazing.” His voice warms, and is a little more unsure this time as he struggles to find words to follow. Lance can feel the way his jaw falls open and after the initial shock and the unexpected shot of warmth through him, he finds his voice.
“What -”
“ Lance .”
Keith lets out a sigh, but he’s not upset. He’s glad Keith cut him off because his his mind is too scrambled by the slope of Keith’s dark eyebrows and the unyielding sincerity in his voice. He doesn’t know what he would have said anyway. He mimes zipping his lips shut and locking it with a key before throwing it over his shoulder.
Keith almost smiles, but the determined edge to his expression hardens him. “Look, we went through a lot. All of us. And I’ve been out of sorts, but you were there, always. I could count on you through everything. The team could count on you through everything, and none of us said a thing. Knowing you were there made it easier, and I never told you how much that meant to me.”
Another pleasant wave of warmth washes over him. Getting praised by Keith is up on the list of one of the strangest experiences of his life - and dear god, he’s had a lot of strange experiences - but he basks in it. He wants to stretch out and soak it up like a cat in a sun-patch on the floor.
Keith continues to stare. “Three. When we were caught in that dream with Bob back in space, I chose you because you’re smart, and adaptable. You are easily the most compatible member of our team. If anyone was going to find a way to make it work, it would have been you. And -” he breathes in sharply through his nose, “- and I wanted you to be able to go home.”
So much for a zipped lip. Lance’s heart trips over itself violently at the abrupt confession, forgetting everything else for a moment. “Keith -”
“Lance, stop talking.”
His heartbeat pounds in his ears, and he can feel it at his throat when he swallows.
“Four. You scared the shit out of me when your comm link cut out during the last battle. Do not let it happen again.”
“Dude, me and my sister had just been projectile launched from a crashed vehicle. Cut me some slack.”
“Five - “
“Jesus, Keith, how long is this list of yours?”
“ Five. I care about you.” He cuts off abruptly, his expression still guarded. “More than...more than you realize.” His voice trails off a little more softly and then he nods to himself. “Okay. That’s it.”
Lance gapes openly now, even though he is finally allowed to speak. He scrambles to find his voice, but his thoughts are muddled and he doesn’t even know what he’s thinking. He can’t hear anything inside of his head over the rush of blood in his ears. His mouth goes dry, and he feels like he’s just been clobbered over the head with a baseball bat, rendering him clumsier than ever before.
That’s it? What an understatement. What a ground-shaking, life-altering understatement. How can he be so calm and casual about something like that?! What kind of reckless idiot can just say something like that with so much tangible certainty?
Keith’s expression slowly softens as he watches Lance struggle. An amused tick curls at the corner of his mouth and he leans back comfortably in the chair by the bed, seemingly relaxed now that he had unloaded all of his thoughts in one fell swoop. He’s unaffected by his own words as all else and Lance can’t help but wonder how long he’s been holding onto them. “I said, I’m done. You can talk now.”
“Y-You -!” But Lance still doesn’t know what to say, not really, and Keith indulges in open amusement now. Lance finds himself pointing at the phone on his nightstand, and when he finally speaks, his voice is pathetically weak. “Any chance I could get you to repeat that for the camera? No one will ever believe you were this mushy and that’s, like, a crime.”
Keith’s smile widens, relaxed. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Not on your life.”
Lance laughs, a little shaky, but genuinely. “It was worth a shot.” He drops his gaze. “Dude, what the hell .”
Keith sounds unfazed. “We almost died.”
“But we didn’t.”
“I know. That’s why you had to know.” There is a brief pause. “Lance, you don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to you to know. I’ve never been good at expressing myself but...you had to hear it.”
Lance doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Doesn’t feel his own actions as his legs unfold and dangle over the bed. Doesn’t feel the shift in his weight as he leans towards Keith. Doesn’t realize that his arms are wrapping firmly around a pair of broad shoulders. His bare feet slide against the cool tile on the floor, knees knocking against the chair, and he sinks into Keith with a sigh. Lance doesn’t even realize that his face is pressed against Keith’s neck until it is.
Once his mind catches up with his actions, Lance doesn’t move. He remembers how badly he wished for a moment like this when Keith had come back from the Blade of Marmora and can’t bring himself to even think about moving. He considers how he’d never expected this kind of moment with Keith Kogane, of all people. The universe is a strange place, he thinks.
Slowly, he feels Keith relax under him, and then there is a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back, too. “You and Hunk and your hugs,” he murmurs, but there’s fondness in his voice.
Lance laughs, but it’s more like a tremble in his shoulders. “Hey, it’s your fault you’re so huggable.”
“Me? Huggable?” Keith asks skeptically, to which Lance tightens his arms around his shoulders.
“Yeah. Nothing you can do about it, man. Shut up and accept it.”
Keith hums with amusement, but says nothing else. Lance becomes aware that he should pull away soon; if he stays here too long, it might get weird and he doesn’t want it to be weird. But Keith’s arms remain secure around his waist, and his chin presses into Lance’s shoulder with blissful reassurance, so he thinks, just a little bit longer.
“Hey, Keith?”
“Hmm?”
“I missed you, when you were gone.”
Keith’s arms tighten around him unexpectedly as he shifts forward for more contact, suddenly crushing Lance against him. The atmosphere is warmer than ever, but the position is a little awkward, both of them leaning into each other over the space between the bed and the chair, knees crowded, faces hidden, but Lance can’t bring himself to move, still. He doesn’t want to. All of the clumsiness he felt upon Keith’s arrival has entirely melted away and there is just this. Just him and Keith and the cold, dry air and the setting sun. He wonders if the other boy can hear how loud or fast his heart is beating, or if he can feel the flush of his skin through the fabric of his shirt.
“I won’t leave again,” Keith promises softly. Lance has never heard him so soft and it makes his heart ache.
“You’d better not,” Lance replies. “I will track your ass down and drag you back.”
Keith chuckles, but the only movement he makes is when he turns his head to press his cheek against Lance’s shoulder, letting out a sigh that has no business sounding so peaceful. Lance finds himself matching his breaths to Keith’s, in and out, low and slow. He feels his face get hot, staring at the soft ends of Keith’s hair where they brush against his arm. It’s fine, and dark, and it smells clean, but different from the harsh cleanness of the medical wing at the Garrison. Soft clean. Warm clean.
They stay like that for a long while. Lance isn’t sure how long, and he doesn’t really care. The orange glow of the sunset becomes darker, and warmer still, and even as this awkward position grows uncomfortable, moving just doesn’t seem like an option.
Finally, Keith sighs, and his hold on Lance lessens. “I should probably go. It’s getting late, and I promised I’d check in with Shiro.”
Lance makes a reluctant noise but slowly pulls away. He notes with satisfaction that Keith’s hands remain sitting loosely at his waist even as he straightens up, as though he’s also unwilling to give up physical contact. Keith’s face is so close, and his expression is gentle, and Lance can’t bring himself to yet remove his hands from Keith’s upper arms.
“Don’t want to keep Shiro waiting,” Lance says with a crooked smile, but he wonders if the disappointment in his voice is as evident to Keith as it is to him.
“Do you want to come with me?” Keith asks, and Lance feels the stroke of Keith’s thumb subtly over the fabric of his shirt. It’s a slight thing, but so tender that his heart hurts. He struggles to breathe for a moment. “I’m sure Shiro would be happy to see you.”
“Yeah,” Lance replies in a breath, physically incapable of saying no, suddenly believing that there is no alternate universe out there in which he would reject Keith’s offer. “Yeah. I’ll come.”
Keith leans forward and Lance nearly panics, heart seizing in his chest, wondering if he had actually died in the final battle. Keith merely smiles, pressing his forehead against Lance’s, and inhales slowly. His eyes flutter, and then he pulls away, and stands up in the narrow space between the chair and the bed, his hands falling away from Lance’s side. “Okay. Let’s go.”
It’s strange, so strange, that Lance, who has always known words in every situation and how to use them, has been rendered speechless by one sunset-softened moment in a bleached hospital room. There are a thousand things he wants to say in reply, but they have no shape in his mouth or in his heart. They are just a jumbled mess of feelings, as overwhelming as a steadily rising waterline.
From here on the bed, Lance looks up to see Keith’s scar in stark relief, the messy fall of his hair over his eyes, which are dark and laid upon Lance with such fondness that it can’t possibly real.
“Okay,” Lance replies, his throat dry, head spinning, knees as soft as jelly as he stands.
Keith smiles and holds out his hand. Lance takes it.