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The doors to the observation deck open, and before Lance can properly turn around, he hears Keith say, “What the hell is that?”
Standing a few feet away, Keith has his arms crossed over his chest, sweatpants riding low on his hips though his black t-shirt is long enough to not reveal anything too incriminating. What mainly surprises Lance--besides Keith owning some type of sleepwear--is that he’s not even wearing his stupid jacket or fingerless gloves, and tonight would be the only time they’re needed. This boy is truly hopeless.
Lance’s eyes narrow, clutching onto his blankets tight. “It’s called a blanket burrito. Don’t judge me.”
“You look silly.”
“And you look like an emo icicle.”
Keith’s nose wrinkles in confusion at the comment, but he doesn’t seem to have the energy to keep their banter going.
In the last Galra attack, the Castle’s central heating system, in simplest terms, broke, and while Pidge, Hunk, and Coran are on the task of getting it operational again, the temperature in the Castle has been slowly declining every hour. It probably hasn’t lowered into the high thirties (Fahrenheit) yet but for a Cuban boy like Lance and a desert boy like Keith they’re practically on death’s door.
Keith stares at him for a long moment, bottom lip caught in his teeth. It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s going to be asked next even if it seems like Keith is having a grand internal debate in his head about it. Lance isn’t sure if he should be insulted or not, but the question comes soon enough. “Can I--can I join you?”
Lance pretends to think it over before pointing at Keith. “Only if you apologize to my blankets for your uncalled for comment.”
Keith rolls his eyes but begrudgingly trudges over. His hands slide up and down his bare arms as if hoping to create a fire on his skin to keep himself warm during these few seconds--honestly, does he really only own short sleeve t-shirts? Next space mall trip, Lance vows, he will diversify Keith’s wardrobe, and it will be considered a life or death mission. “Fine. I’m sorry .”
“Wow, I don’t think you could have meant that anymore if you tried.” But Lance opens his blanket cocoon anyways. He shivers as the heat he’s accumulated inside the blankets slowly leaks out but Keith makes quick work of slotting himself quite nicely against Lance’s side. Being this close, Keith’s soft hair tickles Lance’s face when he turns his head slightly. Lance tries not to let blush creep into his skin--it does warm the tip of his nose though, so it has its uses.
Staring straight ahead, Lance allows himself to reacclimate to the blanket burrito’s temperature, which warms up much faster with a second body. “You settled, Mullet?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Keith mutters, one arm wrapping around Lance’s waist to hold him closer.
“Any time,” Lance quietly responds. As he drops his head onto Keith’s shoulder, their breaths almost beginning to fog in front of them, they enjoy the light show the nebula beyond the glass panes has to offer.
Lance tries not to let it affect him; he really does. Nothing about this should have been a surprise--Lance was perfectly aware that the team would be attending a gala type event to solidify an alliance. Somehow his brain just never put the pieces together that since he had to wear fancy clothes, it meant that everyone was in the same boat as well.
So when Keith shows up on the bridge with nicely tamed hair, part of it pinned out of his face while the rest falls in gentle waves to his shoulders, and in a form fitting, deep red Altean version of a suit, Lance promptly (but thankfully inwardly) loses it.
They are currently the only two here--Lance has a strange suspicion that Allura told him to get ready an hour before he actually needed to, which, he can admit, was smart. But now he has nothing to distract himself from the sight before him.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me you clean up nice?" Lance lightly asks, trying to retain as much dignity as possible. It’s truly a miracle he’s not a puddle on the floor right now.
Hands shoved into his pants’ pockets, eyes not quite set on Lance, Keith shrugs. Some type of shear shawl cape thing is attached to the back of his suit jacket and it drifts with his movements. The material glimmers under the light of the Balmera crystal. “It’s kind of… stiff.”
“Please tell me you didn’t try to train in it,” Lance laughs, a joke mostly but he wouldn’t put it past Keith. “You’d ruin your hair.” He understands at least one benefit of having a mullet now. The only thing Lance can do with his short hair is gel it back but Keith’s hair has so many possibilities.
Whether on purpose to spite Lance or subconsciously out of habit, Keith raises a hand to card through his hair only to have Lance gently grab his wrist before he has a chance to ruin the adorable styling. Keith’s eyes widen in surprise as his gaze flickers between his hand and Lance’s face, who shares an equal amount of shock. Lance bites his lower lip--now that had been an impulse move.
Lance plows past it though; better to have your sights set on the future (and future embarrassments) than to find a reasoning for your present actions. “I bet Hunk five dollars that you don’t know how to dance. Care to share some insight on whether I’ll be a rich man or not?”
Keith sends him a flat look. “What do you think?”
Lance smirks. “I think you could use some dance lessons.” It doesn’t take a genius to realize Keith hasn’t tried to wrench his arm away and Lance hasn’t dropped his hold. Instead, his hand moves up to lock Keith’s fingers with his own.
“Won’t that ruin your get-rich-quick scheme?” Keith’s gaze settles on their clasped hands. There’s a hitch of his breath that Lance almost misses when he squeezes their hands together.
“Some sacrifices have to be made so you’re not a wallflower the entire night.”
A moment of silence hangs in the air, and Keith’s eyes dart all around Lance’s face. If he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, it will never come.
“We do have some time to kill,” Keith eventually says, reasoning with himself out loud. “And you can’t be that bad of a teacher, right?”
Rolling his eyes, Lance tugs Keith closer to his body and his free hand slides to Keith’s hip. His lips curl when he speaks, feeling Keith’s wild heartbeat against his chest. “Believe me when I say, I know how to dance.”
Keith nods seriously as if they’ve just created a fool proof battle plan. “Let’s do it.”
And that’s how the rest of the team finds them a half hour later--maybe a tad bit closer than when they started, but no one can prove otherwise.
“Your eyes are like starlight. They deserve their own constellation,” Lance tells Keith as they walk through the forest, having drawn the short straws for recon duty. Galra presence had been detected in the sector but they have yet to find their base of operations. They are very, very bored and the entertainment of throwing out flirty lines to see who will break first is starting to wear thin.
“Do you have like a list of cheesy lines? That goes from bad to terrible?” Keith asks with a raised eyebrow. Walking for hours has worked up quite a sweat on both of them and when Keith pushes back his hair, it actually stays in place for a few moments, revealing an unobscured face and those pretty eyes.
Lance’s gaze snaps away from the sight. “That was from the heart, Keith.” The Red Paladin will never break at this point but at least he is so inept with romance that neither will Lance. When Lance feels it’s safe enough, he looks back at Keith and sticks out his tongue to blow a raspberry as a late indicator of his feelings towards Keith’s response. “Since you think it’s oh so easy to woo someone, let’s see you try, Hotshot.”
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” Keith doesn’t even take a second to think about it. Almost like he had it ready all this time and was just waiting for Lance to toss him the metaphorical ball. Cheater.
Lance’s lips twitch but he refuses to blush. Eyeing Keith curiously, he turns around to walk backwards so he doesn’t miss a second of Keith’s constipated expression when he has to dig up flirtatious lines. The terrain is mostly flat anyways. “Pretty basic; what else do you got?”
One blissful silent moment hangs in the air before Keith, voice soft and slightly raspy, utters, “You’re beautiful.”
Startled by the honesty in those words, Lance’s mouth drops as he studies Keith, waiting for him to admit to some joke even if there hadn’t been one. His heel hits something hard and immovable and suddenly he’s falling backwards. Lance’s arms frantically wave around to find something to grasp onto though all he is met with is air until he feels something grab his waist, suspending him.
“Gotta be careful, Loverboy,” Keith says above him, a smug glint in his dark eyes. He is so close to Lance that his long bangs almost touch Lance’s face and his warm breath brushes across his skin.
“It’s your fault,” Lance mutters, scowling.
Keith innocently tilts his head. “Yeah?”
“You’re too damn distracting.”
“See, I like that one. Nice and direct. No fluff.”
Lance almost sticks out his tongue again before he realizes that with their proximity it will just become a kiss. And that is not how Lance wants to experience his first kiss. A displeased expression shifts on Lance’s face. Keith can absolutely not know Lance had been thinking about kissing him, his rival of all people--Lance doesn’t even have standards for himself apparently. He can not give Keith the upper hand. “I’m glad I could please you, Mullet. I’ll remember to be nice and direct the next time you annoy me.”
“Don’t let me cramp your style,” Keith says, his eyes never breaking away, never giving Lance a moment of peace. “If you want to continue to wax poetry about my starlit eyes, by all means, go for it.”
“You’re the worst.” In Keith’s arms, Lance feels weightless but refuses to acknowledge the strength Keith must have to be able to hold him for this long. It’s just not fair.
Lowering his head further, Keith’s lips barely graze Lance’s as he whispers, “And you lose.” Keith pokes one of Lance’s flushed cheeks with his free hand and flashes him a gorgeous victory smirk.
Well, fuck this game entirely.
He and Keith get together on a crisp summer night on planet Xylophone--or some other weird sounding name. It’s a beautiful night but Lance wishes it was at least peaceful--maybe they could be sitting down on some grassy cliff, watching the sunset, having a picnic. Just your all around picture perfect confession scene.
Instead, Lance wipes away blood from his split lip. A Galra sentry had come in too close and too fast, managing to punch Lance in the face before he could shoot its arm off. He can already feel the sting of a bruise forming. Keith is somewhere towards his right, slicing through two of the sentries that have started to circle him. It doesn’t look like he needs any backup, which is good since Lance is too caught up in what Keith just confessed.
“What!?” Lance exclaims, needing confirmation. Because he swears he heard Keith say--
“I said I like you!” Keith screams over the roar of blaster fire, rolling away before he can get clipped and activates his shield.
Lance sputters for a moment until a laser blast hits the rock structure behind him, close to taking out his ear. He shoots the bot before it can try again and snaps his gaze back to Keith. “Yeah, I know that . I want to know why you’re telling me now .” Lance grunts as he lifts his blaster to cover Keith who charges into the mass of Galra sentries.
It’s truly an honor to watch him fight. His fluid movements are a choreographed dance, one that he actually knows the steps to. Unlike his embarrassing attempts on the Castle bridge that one time--Lance’s feet are still sore from being stepped on. Keith whips around with an insane smile on his face as he dodges and weaves and cuts through their enemy. Lance ends up taking out a bot Keith had been charging towards and receives an annoyed “hey” for his efforts. He can’t help but laugh at that.
Soon enough, silence descends upon them as the bots are scattered on the ground around them, completely destroyed. Smoke rises from the metal bodies and a distinct smell of ozone lingers in the air from all the blaster fire.
They end up back to back while they catch their breaths. Lance places a hand on his knee, leaning forward as his chest heaves--it honestly feels like his lungs are about to break free from his chest. But his heart is racing for an entirely different reason.
“Did you really have to confess in the middle of battle?” Lance whips around to face Keith, eyes wide in both confusion and disbelief. “That’s something I’d do, Keith. I thought one of us would have some common sense.”
Keith grimaces but his gaze holds strong. “I just didn’t want to die without having told you.”
“We’re not going to die,” Lance says with utter conviction.
“That’s never a sure thing,” Keith says quietly. There’s too much defeat in his words that has Lance pursing his lips.
Grabbing Keith by the waist, Lance drags him closer. The battle clings to Keith, in the scrapes and bruises he has received, in the patch of dirt on his cheek, in the smell of slightly singed hair from too many close calls. Yet, Lance can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he looks at Keith because he’s so beautiful.
“We’re not going to die today,” Lance repeats, for both Keith and himself, and in a split second decision, he kisses Keith, who already meets him halfway. Lance had expected the chapped lips and the warm breath against his skin, but he never really thought about the tingling in his chest or his weak knees. Or how he just wants to slide up against Keith and hold him for the rest of the night despite the crazy battle they are in the middle of. Lance kisses his rival, his teammate, his partner, and realizes that yes, he actually has very good standards for himself. Breaking apart with a pop, Lance says once again, “We’re not going to die, especially not when I finally got everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Keith mutters close to Lance’s lips, his eyes only now just starting to crack open and they are a brilliant shade of a deep violet. He peers at Lance through his bangs. “If you die, I’m never going to let you hear the end of it.”
“Fair, I’ll allow you to haunt me in the afterlife.” Lance chuckles.
“We should rendezvous with everyone else,” Keith suggests as he eyes flicker behind Lance and the large swath of terrain they still have to cover. The corner of his lips dips into a frown; he must have spotted more Galra.
Lance holds out his hand and is almost surprised when Keith grasps it with no hesitancy in his movements. “Let’s do this,” Lance says, though he’s not quite sure if he’s speaking more about the impending next phase of battle or their new relationship. Keith tightens his grip in a wordless answer either way, a serene smile tingling on his lips when he locks eyes with Lance.
Lance’s heart starts to pump wildly, but he blames it on an early adrenaline rush.
He’s in for a wild ride, isn’t he?
Lance is as red as a tomato, as red as his lion, as red as the leather on Keith’s stupid cropped jacket that he totally did not just get caught wearing.
“My--my jacket is in the wash,” Lance explains, almost stumbling through his words. He cards a nervous hand through his hair.
Keith folds his arms across his chest; his stare is flat and unamused. “Uh huh.”
“I was curious.”
“Naturally.”
“You literally just left it lying out in the open.” Lance gestures frantically to the couch in the lounge where the offending article of clothing had been taunting him. If Keith doesn’t want anybody to touch his things then he should know not to leave them in public spaces--he should count himself lucky too; the mice could have easily found it first and made it part of their nest. (And Lance really should have boyfriend jacket perks).
But the more Keith continues with his curt answers, the more Lance feels the need to defend himself.
“So you stole it?” Keith arches an eyebrow though his lips twitch and Lance can’t help himself from mirroring the action.
Shaking his head, Lance replies, “No, it’s called ‘finders keepers’.”
“I guess that’s fair.” Taking a step forward, Keith’s hands press into the wall on either side of Lance’s head. Lance is practically boxed in but he can’t say he cares. Those gray-violet eyes gaze into his as Keith tilts his head. “So have I lost my jacket now?”
A smirk slides onto Lance’s face, standing to his full height which means he towers over Keith by two wonderful inches. “I don’t know.” He leans into Keith’s personal space, eyes gleaming. “Do you think it looks good?”
Keith’s gaze flickers down, momentarily stopping at Lance’s lips before continuing on. His eyes snap back up a second later. “The jacket? Yeah, that’s why I bought it.” Keith quirks a smile.
“I meant, on me .” Lance rolls his eyes. “Honestly.”
Lifting one hand off the wall, Keith’s fingers trail across Lance’s forehead, brushing through his hair. Lance would love to say that his blush has lessened over the course of their conversation, but even if it had, his cheeks have started heating again. “You could look worse.”
“Well, I did ask for honesty,” Lance grumbles with a shake of his head.
But Keith quickly adds on to his statement, eyes dark under his long bangs. “It would look even better on the floor.”
“Oh?” Lance pushes off the wall with enough force to flip their position; his hand lies flat on Keith’s chest. Keith’s expression twists in surprise and now it’s his turn to be red--Lance loves karma, especially when he sees that redness crawl all the way up towards Keith’s ears. When Lance leans in, he stops a millimetre away from Keith’s lips, whispering, “How ‘bout you show me what you mean.”
Lance’s eyes flutter open when he feels the soft pressure of a kiss on his lips. Instead of seeing a purple sky, he is met with dark violet eyes above him.
“Hey, Lance,” Keith says in a soft tone, for once being courteous as Lance slowly blinks away the sleepiness. He kneels behind Lance’s head and kneads the sand around him while he waits for Lance to fully wake. Sand drizzles from Keith’s hand as he lifts a fistful of it from the ground.
They’re on a beach, not an Earth-beach but sand and water make up a beach no matter where in the universe they are. So Lance is content for now, even if it is different from home--the sky is lavender and there are at least four moons and the water is so dark it’s black (but deemed safe for humans, though Lance decided not to risk swimming in it). A whisper of waves crashing against the shore almost washes away Lance’s words and tickles his feet. Chills race up his legs to his spine as he wiggles his now wet toes.
“Hey, yourself.” Lifting a hand, Lance pokes Keith in the cheek, close to the corner of his small smile. “You need something, cariño ?”
“The tide’s coming in. Didn’t want you to get swept away.”
“Too late for that. I’ve already been swept off my feet,” Lance replies, a dazzling smile on his face.
A scowl appears when Keith shakes his head. The ocean breeze ruffles his hair, whipping it in front of his eyes as he responds in a remarkably flat tone. “I knew I should’ve let the water take you.”
Lance flips onto his stomach and props his head in his hand, though he doesn’t move away from the water’s reach and now his pants are soaked up to his knees. Pouting, he asks, “Who are you? Because my caring boyfriend of one minute ago seems to have disappeared.”
Keith brushes away a bit of sand that sticks to Lance’s cheek. The touch is so gentle that Lance almost misses it until those fingers card through his hair. “Pidge wanted to wake you with an air horn, so be grateful you got me.”
Humming at the touch, Lance’s eyes begin to drift closed. “I’m always grateful for you.”
“We should go,” Keith says, watching the ocean creep up behind them. “Everyone’s waiting.”
As the water begins to lap against Lance’s thighs, his jeans acting almost like a second layer of skin with how saturated they are, Lance thinks of a terrible idea. A type of idea that might end up with him sleeping alone tonight… but some things are worth the risk.
“Wait, Keith,” Lance quickly calls out as he moves to stand and Lance has to sit up to catch him. Grabbing the front of his shirt, Lance drags Keith into a proper kiss. His hands weave into Keith’s tangled hair and Keith grips the back of Lance’s shirt, the material bunching in his hands. He grunts in surprise at Lance’s impulse move but matches his kiss easily.
When Lance feels the water recede under him, he smirks against Keith’s lips, very glad that Keith’s too far gone to question the sly twist of his mouth. Lance only has to wait about ten seconds anyways.
A large wave crashes to the shore, soaking Lance entirely but it is also kind enough to make sure Keith doesn’t feel left out. Positively, adorably drenched is how he finds his boyfriend when he opens his eyes. Water collects in Keith’s lashes and trickles down his cheeks like tears, and those long bangs are nearly plastered on his face. Lance hasn’t fared much better of course, but the wet mop look on Keith is much more amusing.
He hides his infectious laughter behind his hands--which isn’t as effective as he initially hoped.
“I can’t believe I saved you from Pidge for this . You stalled on purpose, jackass,” Keith grumbles as he parts his hair and glares at Lance. A thousand warriors would fall down dead, pierced straight through the heart, if they were caught in a glare like that. Luckily for Lance, he is slowly becoming immune and a cheeky grin is his first line of defense. Honesty is his second.
“Guilty as charged.” Water droplets patter Lance’s face as Keith flicks his hands to dry them off, continuing to grumble. Lance takes a little pity on him, murmuring a quick but meaningful “Sorry, cariño, but you look really cute” when his snickering calms down, and kisses Keith again.
It seems to appease him for now.
Lance finally gets his grassy cliff, sunset date. Keith’s head rests in his lap, his inky hair spilling over his thighs while Lance absentmindedly twists a few locks around his fingers.
A new scar cuts through Keith’s pale cheek, and while they both have too many to count on their bodies after years of war, Lance feels a different pain in his chest looking at it. Maybe because it’s more visible than all the others, a more stark reminder that will remain throughout the rest of Keith’s life for the entire universe to see.
“Where do you want to go when this is all over?” Keith’s voice rings out in the stillness of the air. Water laps against the cliff-face far below them but that has already faded into white noise.
Lance shrugs because in all honesty he’s never really thought about it. He never quite believed he would make it out alive in those first few weeks, and as time went on, he kind of just assumed he’d be at war for the rest of his life. Earth would be the obvious answer but there’s an itch in him that doesn’t want to settle. “It doesn’t matter as long as I’m with you.”
Keith runs a hand through his hair as he sits up. Eyes pointed towards the horizon, he doesn’t quite look at Lance while he talks. “I was thinking of helping the Blades regroup, maybe have them become more of a relief group than a rebel organization. There’ll be so much to do out here once we win, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me, to help me lead the team? We can still visit Earth and your family after every mission.” His eyes finally snap back to Lance, a little wider than normal. “Or whatever you want; I don’t want you to feel like you have no input. I--”
Lance cuts him off with a soft laugh--he didn’t realize Keith had the nervous rambling gene. It’s a cute look on him. “You know I’ll follow you anywhere; I don’t even have to think twice about it.”
“Commander McClain is going to have a nice ring to it,” Keith mutters as he dives in to pepper Lance with ‘thank you’ kisses. Lance chuckles, twitching a little where those kisses tickle.
“I know, right?” Lance smirks with a tilt to his head. Warm hands slide under his shirt and Keith gently pushes him to lie on the ground. All he can see is Keith above him and all he can feel is Keith’s touch. At this moment, the entirety of Keith envelopes Lance as he easily allows himself to become lost, barely hanging on to reality, even if it’s only because of this proximity.
But Keith’s gurgling stomach interrupts them, and this is the exact reason why Lance had Hunk make at least five sandwiches for their date--a Galra’s metabolism can be legendary sometimes. While Lance may whine a little, having to watch Keith scoot away to reach the picnic basket, the chilling ocean breeze instantly berating him, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this nice view of Keith’s ass.
“Lance, what’s this?” Keith asks when he digs through the picnic basket in search of more food. He pulls out a little black box for Lance to see only for Lance’s eyes to pop out of his head as he blushes.
He forgot. He fucking forgot it was in there--usually he keeps it in his jacket pocket.
“That was supposed to be a surprise,” Lance mumbles, taking the box from Keith’s hand. Cradling it in his palms, Lance stares at it like a newborn baby he’d be too scared to hold. His thumb brushes over the dark velvet. “I just didn’t know the right time to give it to you, so I’ve been carrying it with me wherever I go.”
They have only been dating for one year, so maybe this is premature, but Lance knows Keith is his forever person. The one he wants to wake up next to in the morning, the one he wants to get into petty fights with over meaningless crap that usually ends in an onslaught of makeup kisses, the one who he’ll follow to the ends of the universe no matter what. Intuition has been telling him that Keith feels the same lately. Especially with all this future talk.
A finger taps under Lance’s chin, slowly tilting his head up to see Keith’s brilliant eyes and windswept appearance. “I think you have a question to ask me, McClain.”
“Do you have the answer I want to hear?” Lance teases him.
Replying without missing a beat, Keith says with a grin, “Yeah, I do.” And then he kisses Lance before he can even pop the question.
Epilogue
Years later
“I look scruffy.” Morning stubble lines Lance’s jaw, and his overgrown hair curls around his ears and the nape of his neck and hangs in front of his eyes. Dark eye-bags continue to linger, as they only just came back home late last night and promptly fell asleep. There might even be a bit of toothpaste still left on the corner of his mouth. Frowning, he sighs. Everything has been so busy lately with Blade missions that this is the first time in almost six months that they’ve been able to return to their house on Earth. It’s starting to become tiresome.
This is also the first time in six months that he has access to a proper mirror, Lance is quick to realize.
Wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist, Keith rests his chin on Lance’s shoulder as he watches him in the mirror. His long hair drapes over his shoulder and tickles the back of Lance’s arm when Keith turns his head. “I think you look nice.” His lips run across Lance’s rough jaw and leave behind kisses as they go.
“You’re my husband; you have to say that.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Keith says as he steps back a moment to gaze at Lance. He cocks a small pose when he feels Keith’s eyes lingering, a smile flickering to his lips. “We could figure out something, if you really want.” Keith runs his hands through Lance’s hair, knotting his fingers in the thick locks and Lance leans into the touch. “I always thought you’d look good with an undercut or a buzzcut.”
Lance hums as Keith’s blunt nails slide across his scalp. It’s been so long since they could just be like this--no more missions to lead, no more stress, no more unexpected fire fights. Maybe it’s time he brought up the idea of staying here permanently. But would it even be received well? Their life has been go, go, go from the moment they flew into space, and Lance has often wondered if they could even handle anything different.
He pushes the thought to the back of his mind, saying instead, “I don’t know if I’d trust you cutting my hair, cariño , not with how you used to keep yours.”
Keith glares with no malice as he removes his hands to cross his arms over his chest. “My hair just grows like that; I didn’t style it that way.”
“You also didn’t try to do anything about it either so…” Lance waves his hand, “I don’t know how much your opinion matters.”
“But you trust me with everything else, yeah?”
“Forever and always,” Lance replies without hesitation.
Keith’s gaze softens and gently touches Lance’s shoulder. “Then trust me with this too, ok?”
“Alright.” Lance nods with some confidence--but he prays Keith doesn’t fuck up his hair too bad.
Lance stares at himself in the mirror again. In the end, he didn’t go through with a full undercut but the sides and back of his head are shorter than usual, and Keith cut the top back to its normal length with his bangs no longer annoyingly hanging in his eyes. Behind him, Keith shakes out the towel and Lance catches his gaze.
“You actually did a decent job,” Lance says with a smile. He feels like himself again, lighter even as if the stress over the last six months has finally faded away.
“Wow, the confidence you had in me is just oozing out of you,” Keith deadpans.
Lance turns around to fully face his husband, making grabby hands for him to come closer and leave the mess on the tile floor until later. “You can’t blame me. I had every right to be concerned.”
Keith rolls his eyes but he lifts his hand to Lance’s hair, fluffing it up and checking once more to make sure everything is even. Those nails feel even more incredible against the shorter sides of his hair. “Are you feeling better?” Keith asks as he decides to wrap his arms around Lance’s waist and stare at him head on. “You seemed down earlier.”
Lance ducks his head slightly to avoid that gaze. “Yeah, I just had… something on my mind.”
“It couldn’t have been a good something, if you were so glum.”
“No, no it wasn’t bad,” Lance admits, gnawing at his lower lip. "I just don’t know how to go about asking you about it ‘cause you’ll probably say no.”
“Just ask me, Lance.” There’s concern in Keith’s eyes now, his expression slipping into something serious, and Lance can’t help but grimace at causing him unnecessary worry.
Taking a deep breath, Lance begins, “I like being home with you.”
A soft smile touches Keith’s lips. “Yeah, me too.”
“But it’s--it’s more than that. I want to stay home for more than a couple weeks at a time. I want to start creating more permanent roots and maybe consider starting a family?” Lance cups Keith’s cheek, thumb rubbing over the scar that shoots across his pale skin. Keith had piled his hair into a messy bun before he started to cut Lance’s hair, and now Lance begins to play with a loose lock that has escaped, twisting it around his fingers. “Space has been our life for the past eight years and, for the most part, it really has been wonderful, but I think I want something different now.”
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” Keith guesses correctly. Lance nods his head, but he never realized how much it had been building up inside him. He can’t read Keith’s expression, the emotion in his eyes is too flat, but considering he can only read his husband about half the time, it doesn’t bother him too much. “Why did you assume I’d automatically say no?”
Lance laughs a little at that, though there is no humor present in the sound. “I know you, and you’ve never been one for stationary life.”
“That was more than five years ago,” Keith lightly argues, the intensity in his eyes never decreasing, “And since then, I’ve realized that I have different priorities now.” He leans forward to place a chaste kiss on Lance’s mouth, hands holding the sides of Lance’s face. “If you want us to stay on Earth, we can because I love you and I’ll follow you anywhere and into any adventure. I don’t need the normalcy of missions to be happy; I just need you.”
Lance nuzzles his nose into Keith’s cheek, lips brushing across his skin in a breathy whisper. “I love you so much.” When Lance’s lips slide down to Keith’s jawline and then his neck, the vibrations from Keith’s quiet, happy hums cause his mouth to tingle. Lance’s smile grows and his mind freely spins with an impossible amount of ideas for their future.
He can’t wait to try everything.