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Lance sighs into the full medical bay. Only Allura is absent. “So, how long will this go on?”
Coran twirls his orange mustache, humming. “Hard to tell, Number Three. Usually when he’s been sated, it seems, or when the bug’s toxin flushes out of his system.”
“And how long will the toxin take?”
“Perhaps a week, perhaps a month. The Hungersnot bug—”
Lance bursts out laughing, nearly losing balance from the gurney he’s perched on, and even where Hunk and Pidge are witnessing this real time from a couple feet apart, they are snickering.
Coran looks mildly confused. “Something funny?”
Lance’s shoulders are shaking and Keith beside him cracks a smile. “No, I just like bugs,” Lance chortles.
“Oh, well, as I was saying, the Hungersnot—”
More laughter peals from the teens and Shiro is shaking his head. “Alright, guys, pay attention. Sorry about them, Coran.”
Coran inspects the skinny green bug in a glass container. “No harm done. I’m used to them by now even if I don’t understand it.”
Pidge is slapping Hunk as she laughs boisterously. “Keith got bit by a bug called the Hungersnot!”
Keith scowls at her, all amusement gone. “I handled it like a warrior!”
“Sure, if that’s what ‘it’s in me, Lance, it’s fucking in me!’ sounds like a warrior,” Lance mocks.
“That bug crawled under my skin! It tried to kill me from the inside!”
“Personally, screaming like that seems less like a warrior and more like a porn—”
“Pidge!” Shiro reprimands immediately.
When Lance laughs again, he receives a pinch to the arm. He retaliates by tugging Keith’s hair, but instead of hissing, Keith falls into the contact and rubs into Lance’s hand. The boy pauses, eyes flickering to the others. “Okay, that’s getting a little weird.”
Keith grumbles. “I’m not enjoying this. I can’t help it.”
Lance’s fingers scratch into Keith’s scalp and when he hums into it, Lance looks smug. “Yeah, you’re definitely not enjoying it with the way you’re purring like a cat.”
“If my sanity didn’t depend on you, you’d be a dead man.”
“Shh.” Lance begins rubbing his back and Keith makes a broken sound, arching into it because his skin feels on fire everywhere Lance doesn’t touch and it’s like he’s cooling it down so good that he needs more. “If it was this easy to win arguments—”
“It isn’t,” Keith interjects.
“—I’d have petted you a long time ago.” Lance looks up, blushing as Keith clings onto him tightly. “So, why is it that Keith needs this?”
Coran perks up. “You see, the Hungersnot (*another round of laughter*) bug, once under the skin of its target, releases the toxin into the bloodstream through a coughing sort of process.”
Hunk’s brow raises. “Like sneezing? You’re telling us that actual bug snot is swimming in Keith’s blood?”
“I don’t know what snot it,” Coran replies, “but yes, like sneezing. It creates an innate sort of feeling to be amplified, one that the target is deprived of severely. Translated to English it is called Famine bug.”
Pidge rubs her chin. “So, say someone is starving for food for a great portion of their life, they’d have the uninhibited urge to eat a ton.”
“Precisely. But this famine works according to the target. Number Four here seems to be deprived of touch.”
Hunk’s eyes grow wide as Keith flushes red. “Buddy, you’ve been touch-starved the entire time? I would’ve hugged you so much if I knew you didn’t mind it!”
Keith tries to play it off, but he hates to admit that yeah, every time Hunk hugged someone in front of him, Keith felt needy. Everyone in the team uses touch except him. Shiro sometimes claps his back and it feels like a breath of fresh air, but it retreats pretty quick. And a life as an orphan…
Lance raises his hand. “So, if Keith has been touch-starved—” a warning sound comes from Keith, but he steamrolls over it. “—how come it’s only my touch that’s affecting him?”
“Not true,” Keith mumbles as he, mortifyingly, nuzzles into Lance’s shoulder. Lance brings his arm around Keith and rubs his side. He relaxes instantly, like milk to a chili burn. “When they touch me, I feel better. But not as good as…”
Not as good as how Lance touches him.
Lance’s face burns with the admission. He clears his throat. “And if we were to separate?”
“I do want to test the effect it has on humans,” Coran says, “Why don’t you both split a little?”
Slowly, Lance unwinds his arm from Keith, who is still clinging to his shirt. He holds back a sound of protest, the skin already flaring up hotly. When they have a foot gap between them, Keith is twitching and burning. He groans as a headache comes on and he feels feverishly hot. His vision nearly whites out as a strong flare rises up his spine and hits the back of his head, and Keith screams in pain.
He doesn’t realize he’s crumpling until he falls into someone. Instantly, there is a cooling all over his body as he writhes and convulses, letting out a sound of relief when hands rub his skin under his shirt. Keith buries himself into the person—the heady smell of coconut makes him feel safe already—blinking to get rid of the headache.
“Quiznak, that really hurts,” he mumbles into the shirt.
It’s Lance under him, sounding worried but Keith feels he’s hearing the voice from underwater. It takes a couple more moments where he can recognize the words ‘Keith’ and ‘okay’ before he can properly open his eyes. A hand cups his jaw and Keith exhales sharply.
“Keith? Buddy, talk to us,” Lance says.
“I’m good,” Keith says but his words slur.
A couple more strokes along his back and sides gets him coherent. He finds himself in Lance’s lap with his hands under his black t-shirt, rubbing soothingly. He can’t summon the embarrassment anymore. Those moments apart felt like the worst thing ever; a concoction of abandonment issues and physically burning up and making him feel like a kid again. He needs this.
A cold rag is placed over his forehead. “He’s pretty feverish,” Coran reports. “But it’s going down quickly. I don’t think we should risk them staying apart.”
Lance groans. Keith looks up from his chest and feels slightly bad. He hates that he doesn’t wanna let him go. Still, Lance shouldn’t suffer because of Keith’s…issues.
“Maybe—maybe you can stow me in the pod until the toxin flushes out?” he suggests quietly. Lance’s blue eyes snap to him and he mumbles, “you don’t need to, you know—” he gestures between them.
Coran shakes his head sympathetically. “It isn’t equipped to flush out this kind of toxin. A stasis tends to freeze the toxin as well and when the target comes out, it reactivates.”
Pidge looks impressed. “Sounds like a mutant sleeper cell. I can help Coran work on an antidote.”
Keith bites his lip, but then Lance is saying, “hey, I know this isn’t ideal, but I’m not gonna let you suffer, alright? I’m not that much of a jerk.”
Keith cracks a smile. “But you admit you are a jerk.”
Lance rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Why is it only my touch with this much affect?”
Pidge immediately looks devious, and even Shiro and Hunk are holding back smiles. Coran holds no issue as he sends Keith a meaningful look. “He craves a specific kind of touch, it seems. One he’s never had before?”
Keith’s face turns red. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Lance eyes him suspiciously before he shrugs. “I’m really tired. Any chance we can hit the hay?”
Shiro nods. “But there are rules to this. Both of you can’t go on any missions until this tides over. That means we can’t form Voltron, but hopefully the antidote is made by then.”
Keith looks like he wants to fight but Lance is pumping his fist. “Alright, no crazy wake up calls for us!”
“There will be training,” Shiro continues and this time Keith looks excited. “Allura is already working on it so we’ll have to see tomorrow. Which room will you be staying in?”
Keith and Lance freeze. Right. Direct contact at all time. Which means same room, same bed.
“Mine,” Lance instantly says, “Wouldn’t want to step into a room that smells like three-for-one soap.”
“Not all of us care about shiny hair right now.”
Lance tuts, playing with a lock of dark hair. “And that’s why you have split ends. It’s like you cut it with a knife.”
Keith remains silent for too long. Lance erupts into disbelief. “You cut your wonderful hair with a fucking knife?”
“I didn’t have a scissor or a barber in the desert.”
“You had brains, didn’t you?”
“Shut up, Lance!”
Lance looks grim but it’s not heated. “I could easily shut you up with a touch but then it’s really no fun. Let’s go to bed, man.” He gets up, helping a weak-kneed Keith up. He slings a hand around his waist as they walk out. “If anyone wakes me up at a ridiculous time, I’ll rebel, you hear?”
“Lance,” Shiro starts but Lance cuts his off.
“I’m tired because I had to do the heavy-lifting here, a.k.a., actually dragging Keith to safety, so I deserve a little extra sleep. Plus, if you look at this sad boy—” Lance presents an embarrassed, grumpy Keith. “—you can clearly see the bags under his eyes. Who knows when he slept well last. So, we’re gonna take our time tomorrow, thanks.”
And they walk out.
Hunk doesn’t look as surprised as the others. “About time his mother-hen came out.”
Pidge snorts. “He looked a second away from snapping if anyone stopped them.”
“He even used Keith as an excuse, that crafty little shit,” Shiro mumbles, pinching his brows.
Hunk laughs loudly. “Keith wasn’t an excuse. He was the reason.”
*
“So,” Keith says as he twiddles his thumb, standing in the middle of the room. He stares at the bed that looks a little too small to fit two people. “How’s this gonna work?”
Lance scoffs. “Stop making this so awkward. You pick one side, I’ll take the other. Where’s your pajamas?”
“My what?”
“… heathen. Here.” Lance pulls out a pair of pajamas and shoves it at Keith, who looks at it like it’s something foreign and strange. “On second thought.” Lance takes back the shirt, smiles jokingly. “More skin contact, the sooner you get to feel yourself again, right?”
Keith stares at the black shorts in his hands. His face erupts into a blush. “We’re both wearing this? It’s skimpy.”
“Put on the damn shorts.”
They change, fortunately without flashing each other too much (Keith gets a glimpse of Lance’s tight brown butt and nearly dies on the spot), and soon then settle into the bed with Keith outside and Lance inside.
So far, only their hands and shoulders are touching as they lay beside each other. Keith clears his throat in the darkness. “You didn’t put on your facemask tonight.”
Lance chuckles. “It’d take too much time and I’m exhausted.”
“Okay.”
The silence after that is tense and awkward. Keith hears Lance’s short breathing and knows that if he moves his fingers a bit more to the right, he’d be able to touch Lance’s bare waist.
Finally, Lance breaks the quiet. “Alright, I really want to sleep and you’re not making it easy for me.”
Keith splutters. “What do you want me to do? Sing you to sleep?”
“Is that an offer?”
“The only offer that stands is a punch to your face strong enough to knock you out. We both win in that situation.”
“Geez, alright,” Lance mutters. He turns his face to the side and when Keith follows, he knows Lance is looking at him. “Face me, we’re cuddling.”
Keith reluctantly does so. When Lance’s long arm wraps around his waist to settle into his stomach and he feels a hot breath over his head, Keith tenses. He slowly eases his weight onto Lance’s warm chest and is surprised when he feels so much better as Lance’s heart thumps a steady rhythm under his ear.
“Get as comfortable as you want,” Lance whispers, fingers brushing back and forth over Keith’s waist.
It takes some time for Keith to settle, really settle. His breathing is hitched the entire time, wondering if this is too good to be true, if this is why people love cuddling so much because this feels really, really good.
The fear that Lance would push him away ebbs away, and instead, Keith’s entire body is tingling happily, so he slings a leg over Lance’s waist and draws them close and high until Keith’s face is tucked into Lance’s neck.
“This okay?” he asks after a few seconds.
Lance breathes out, pressing his nose to Keith’s hair. “Yeah, it’s good. Feels better?”
Keith hums an assent. Sleep is already catching up to him and he drowsily nuzzles further into Lance’s warm body. God, that feels so good, especially how Lance has taken to rubbing Keith’s back now. “Wish I had this before,” he mumbles sleepily.
Lance’s hand pauses and Keith has to whine for the movement to resume. When it does, he settles down again and Lance blushes. “You have it now.”
Keith is already asleep.
*
Keith wakes up first and good god, is this what it’s like to wake up refreshed? His eyes don’t burn, and his face feels like it can smile again.
That was the best sleep in ten years.
In their sleep, they had moved into another position. Lance is now on top of Keith, a nice heavy weight on him that sends his skin warmly toned, and long bronze limbs are haphazardly thrown about, their legs tangled and—oh.
Keith’s eyes grow wide.
One of Lance’s leg is tucked snugly between Keith’s and if he keeps shifting restlessly, something is gonna poke out soon.
Keith is about to shake Lance awake when he looks at his face. His brown hair is messed up and cowlicked, long lashes drop from his eyelids, the sharp long nose that pokes into Keith’s ear, and Keith is stuck a little too long on the curved bow of Lance’s lips.
Oh no, oh, oh shit, something’s bubbling. Could it be?
Fucking hell, it is.
Keith hates it. He fucking hates it. He’s worked so hard to repress this shit and one close look at Lance sends Keith’s feelings in a frenzy, because of course, it did.
Groaning softly, Lance smacks his lips before his eyes flutter open, a dark blue that hold Keith captive until it blinks. Lance breathes out sharply as recognition fills him, and then he’s getting up from Keith’s body, but he accidentally nudges his knee up and Keith makes a soft, whining sound that immediately has him horrified.
Lance, thank everything above, chooses to ignore it in favor of apologizing. “Shit, how were you breathing under me?”
Keith coughs, eyes averting as he subtly pushes his thighs together. “It felt better.”
Lance pauses, flopping beside Keith but keeping the proximity close, arms linked. “How was your sleep?”
“Amazing.” At Lance’s raised brow, Keith gushes about how refreshed he feels, how he thinks he can finally get to level 29 of the gladiator because he’s pumped with the energy he never thought he had. “I finally get why you like your beauty sleep.”
Lance snorts, turning to cuddle him by throwing a leg over Keith. “Nah, I’m just lazy. I’m also a cuddler, so sorry, you’re in for it now.”
Keith doesn’t mind, really. Instead, he switches topics. “So, sleep is good, right?”
Lance is laughing. “Morbid son of a bitch.”
“Hey, I’m thinking out loud! Sleep makes me feel great, what about facemasks?”
Lance’s grip tightens on him and his head shoots up disbelievingly. “You want to try a facemask?”
“Does it make me feel better?”
“Hell, yeah!” Lance replies, and Keith thinks that the joy emanating from him is a little silly because that’s such a simple thing to be happy about, but hell if he doesn’t feel like he accomplished something by making Lance smile that brightly at him.
“Can we try one now?” Keith asks.
Lance gets impossibly happier. He hugs Keith. “You’re gonna feel like you can do anything after you try it.”
That seems exaggerated.
It was not exaggerated.
Keith pokes at his cheek in wonder before squishing them, staring at himself in the mirror with wonder. Behind him, Lance is smug, hands around his waist a little too intimately, but Keith is past everything. He likes it. He likes the attention, he likes the sleep and the facemasks, and he likes Lance.
“Dude, my skin feels like—it’s so soft it’s like a baby’s cheek!” Keith exclaims. “My nose doesn’t have those black dots on them.”
“Blackheads,” Lance supplies.
Keith makes an awed sound. “I had no idea the beauty spot on the side of my nose was a blackhead.”
Lance cringes, fingers drawing circles on Keith’s waist absently. It makes him feel fluttery. He drops his chin onto Keith’s shoulder. “We’re late for breakfast. You can show off your face to the others.”
“I don’t think my face looks that different.”
A moment later and Hunk gasps. “Keith doesn’t look like a handsome hobo anymore!”
“A what?” Keith looks with surprise. He drags his chair to Lance and they plop down, hands linked. It’s not enough, his body is twitching every once in a while, so Keith shifts in his seat. Lance spots the uncomfortable look in his face and his hand drifts to the back where it slides under Keith’s shirt. Keith shudders.
Shiro whistles. “Has it improved?”
“And more importantly.” Pidge adjusts her glasses and squints at Keith. “Your eyebrows look really good. Nice job cleaning up the trash, Lance.”
Keith flings a piece of goo at her in an instant. A snap from Allura and Pidge holds back. Instead, Allura turns to Keith with interest. “She’s right, though. You look extremely handsome.”
“Don’t I get compliments, too?” Lance complains.
“But you always look so handsome,” Hunk replies, and Lance lights up.
“I love you, buddy.” Hunk laughs.
Keith purses his lips, looking at his food intently but not really looking at it. The hand on his back is doing wonders and it takes a lot for him to not outright moan at the feeling. Instead, his hand reaches to tug at his dark hair self-consciously. “Maybe I should get my hair cut, too.”
A fork clatters on the table and everyone goes silent. Keith feels like he just armed a ticking bomb and—yeah, there it goes.
“WHAT!” Lance screeches, his arm going deadly still as he whirls on the Red Paladin. “What—why would you ever—”
“Someone’s attached to the mullet,” Shiro coughs into his palm and Lance sends him a glowering look.
“What do you mean you want to cut your hair?”
Keith shrugs, shrinking from the attention, and especially Lance’s blazing stare. “I mean, you always comment about it so maybe I should get it cut.”
“Hell no,” Lance replies, aggressively shoving food into his mouth, talking like that. “No, no, the mullet is staying, absolutely not, no way are you cutting that ridiculous mop—”
“See, you’re making fun of it again!”
“—because I like it!” Lance explodes. His eyes grow wide and Keith finds himself without anything to say suddenly.
Lance likes his hair?
“I—I mean,” Lance goes back. “I can’t call you Mullet without the mullet. Keep the mullet, cut it, do whatever, I don’t care.” He stuffs his face with food desperately.
Allura is hiding a laugh behind her hand. “Very professional, Lance.”
Lance glares at her. He glares at everyone warningly and Keith feels like he’s missing a vital piece of information.
“If you like my mullet then why do you keep making fun of it?” Keith still asks.
Lance looks pained. “Buddy, come on, just eat your food.”
Keith scowls, putting his fork down haughtily. “Not unless you tell me what’s going on!”
“Nothing’s going on!”
“As if I believe that.”
Lance scoffs. “Well, then you have to tell me why only my touch is helping you right now.” He emphasizes it with a strong stroke to Keith’s back that has the boy arching.
Keith…he doesn’t care. He really doesn’t…just fuck it. He likes Lance, he likes the night they had together, and he wants more.
“Because I like you,” Keith says, staring Lance dead in the eye, almost taunting him to respond.
Lance’s eyes narrow at the challenge. “I like your mullet because I’ve had a crush on you ever since we rescued Shiro.”
“I’ve had a crush on you ever since the bonding moment where I—get this—cradled you in my arms!”
“I cradled you last night.”
“You laid there while I did all the work.” Keith shoots back angrily. Both of them have risen, hands interlocked, and foreheads pressed together as they growl.
Pidge’s eye twitches. “That definitely needs a mature rating.”
Hunk beside her looks like he’s enjoying the show, and Shiro and Allura seem to be wondering how the two boys managed to turn their love life into a competition.
Lance grips Keith’s waist tightly to draw him in. “I gave you my favorite facemask!”
Hunk gasps. “He’s been saving the Very Berry Strawberry facemask for ages!”
Keith growls, bringing his hands to wrap around Lance’s neck. “I let you put the mask on me! You know how much trust that requires?”
“I thought sleeping between your legs requires more trust!” Lance spits back.
Everyone holds back loud wheezes.
Keith turns red, face screwing up. “You let me cling to you for hours!”
“Well you are the cutest boy I’ve ever met; I would’ve done anything for you! Besides, you took a blast for me when Blue was down!”
“And you are the most caring piece of shit I’ve ever known!”
Keith and Lance stare at each other for a short moment before their lips crash together passionately. Keith’s grip on Lance’s hair tightens when Lance bites into his lip and his mouth parts to let Lance in. Lance’s hands are tantalizing, slipping under his shirt and scratching at the skin with blunt nails that have Keith groaning into his mouth.
With their bodies pressed together and noses bumping as they kiss hard and fast and sloppy, Keith realizes the sudden cold wave over his body isn’t natural, and when they separate with swollen lips and hooded eyes, Keith pulls away fully from Lance’s hands.
Lance’s brows shoot up and he moves to touch Keith again, but he holds up a hand. Lance pauses as Keith slowly grins. “I’m not burning up! Lance, I’m okay again!”
Lance bites back a laugh. Keith looks too adorable. Instead, he bridges the gap and presses a short kiss to Keith’s lips. He eagerly returns it before they separate with a loud smacking sound.
When they turn to the dining table, they find it empty.
Lance shoots Keith a smirk. “Let’s keep up the pretense for the day. Spend it in bed?” he holds out a hand.
Keith accepts.