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he rolls over, placing a hand on lotor’s chest and resting his chin on his hand. lotor smells faintly of lavender. 

a soft whine escapes lotor, and he turns his head, as if to escape his dream. keith lays his forehead on lotor’s chest, letting him know that someone is there, even if he only realizes it on some subconscious level. it’s not much, but what can he do? 

then lotor’s arm wraps around him, pulling him closer into his chest, closer to his heart, and keith can’t help the fondness on his face. he’s wanted. even in lotor’s dreams he is wanted, treasured, loved. 

it’s one night of many, something that keith doesn’t talk about because it’s not the sort of thing that comes up in ordinary conversation (by the way, i love the way you hold me late at night) but he’s fine with that. it’s not something they need to talk about. not yet

maybe one day he’ll tell him how much it means (i love the way you hold me like i’m the only thing that matters) to be held, to be cherished

but for right now, in the dead of night with nobody around? (i love the way you hold me when your walls are down) this is something personal. he’ll keep this to himself for now. maybe one day he’ll tell him, but not tonight.