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Keith stands awkwardly at the shooting range, eyes shifting to the rows of targets lined up in the distance. The faint hum of the castle and the sterile, metallic scent of the equipment fills the air.
"Alright, mulletbrain," Lance says with a playful grin, handing Keith a small laser pistol. "Time for you to learn how to shoot. You're about to get a lesson from the master sharpshooter himself. But we'll start with this one; you're not ready for my big gun yet."
Keith huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. He doesn’t want Lance to know that he finds the whole situation amusing, and he definitely doesn’t want to think about Lance’s "big gun" right now. He needs to concentrate, damn it. He takes the smaller gun, his fingers brushing against Lance’s briefly. He can't help but remember the countless times he has taught Lance how to wield a sword. Now, the roles are reversed, and he’s surprised to find that it feels oddly reassuring to let Lance take the lead.
Lance positions himself behind Keith, his hands covering Keith’s as they hold the gun together. As Lance guides his hands, Keith feels a sense of calm wash over him. Lance’s voice is soothing and patient, much like when he taught his siblings how to swim. This is Lance’s element.
"First, you need to relax. Don't think of it as different from any other weapon. It's just another tool."
Keith swallows and nods, indulging in the warmth of Lance’s body pressed against his back. Lance’s breath on the skin close to his ear sends a shiver down his spine.
"Steady your aim, breathe in, and... fire."
The laser beam shoots out, hitting close to the center of the target. A sense of pride wells up inside him, and he turns to see Lance beaming.
"See? You've got this," Lance says, his tone filled with genuine admiration.
After a few more successful shots, Keith’s mouth pulls into a smirk. Just as he is about to take another shot, Lance leans in, whispering, "Now you know how to protect yourself if I'm not there."
The smirk slips from Keith’s face. His heart skips a beat, and he misses the shot, the beam going wide. Lowering the gun, he turns to face Lance, eyes filled with confusion and a hint of fear. "What do you mean... if you're not around? You'll always have my back… right?"
Lance's smile softens, and he shakes his head. "Keithy… I mean if I'm on a different field. Like when I'm on another planet or something. Don't overthink it." His eyes shine with sincerity as he pokes Keith’s forehead. Keith feels a wave of relief. Lance’s hands move to Keith’s shoulders, massaging the tension away. Keith lets himself close his eyes for a moment and enjoy.
"Don't toy with me like that, jackass," Keith grumbles, but there is no heat in his words. And with an afterthought, he playfully shoves Lance, but his hand is still lingering on Lance’s chest. Lance takes it, intertwining their fingers, taking them between them, and presses a gentle kiss to Keith’s knuckles.
***
Later that evening, the two of them find solace in each other's arms, legs tangled together in their shared bed. Lance’s head rests on Keith’s chest, as it often does now.
Keith’s voice is barely a whisper. "You know, I think you're pretty good at this teaching thing." He says while carding his fingers through the soft chestnut curls.
Lance chuckles softly, turning his head to give Keith’s pec a peck. "Only because I have the best student." He can feel Lance’s smile on his chest while saying it, never shy with words of flattery.
As time goes by Keith's thoughts begin to wander back to the shooting range and a shadow takes over his mind. What if something happens to Lance? The fear of losing him starts to creep back in and his hands still in Lance’s hair.
Sensing Keith’s change in mood, Lance lifts his head to look at him. Seemingly not happy with what he sees in Keith’s expression he shifts their position and places his hands firmly on both sides of Keith’s face, ensuring Keith can’t look away. "You look worried. Is this about earlier?" Lance’s voice is steady, his gaze intense but gentle.
Keith’s eyes are filled with uncertainty. He nods slowly, unable to articulate the depth of his fear.
Lance’s eyes soften, his expression resolute. "I won’t go anywhere, Keith." He says it with such conviction that it feels like a promise.
Lance pulls Keith into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around him as if he could anchor Keith to the present. The hug is fierce and tender, a silent declaration of love and assurance. Keith clings to Lance, burying his face in the crook of his neck. The warmth of Lance’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it’s a soothing balm to Keith’s anxiety.
"Thank you," Keith murmurs into Lance’s hair, his voice thick with emotion.
Lance answers by holding him even closer, and the tension melts away as Keith allows himself to breathe in Lance's presence. He needs to remind himself that he’s allowed to have this – allowed to have Lance.
Lance brushes a hand through Keith’s hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. Keith looks up with a grateful smile, his heart lighter. They drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, their worries left for another day.