#previous relationship

Keith makes to turn his head and his date laughs again, quickly reaching out to hold his hand and draw his attention back to him, “Hey, I said don’t look!”

Keith looks up into his smile and nods awkwardly before settling on his hand. It stays there, even if Keith is no longer turning. Keith isn’t sure how he feels about it.

It’s been… a really long time since anyone’s held his hand.

He decides he’ll let it be for now. His date seems to like that and casually rubs his thumb over his skin.

  Like Lance used to do.

Ah god it’s been years, is Keith really, really still not ready?! Lance sure was! Lance moved on through the whole damn university’s freshman class before Keith was even done coming to terms with the fact, they were over. Who does that?! Who bleeds love and romance like Lance does and then just— just— trivialize it with a bunch of nobodies while the love of his supposed life curls up on the floor of his dorm trying to figure out what the fucking phantom limb pain is— and let’s face it, he couldn’t just call his brother all “we broke up and it feels like I lost my right hand” cause Shiro would then have every right to disown him.

No. No. Keith should be over this. So fucking over this.

So UNBELIEVABLY FUCKING OVER THIS—

  He looks at his date and stares into his eyes as softly as he’s able, casually reaching over to cover his hand with his in a way he hopes is reassuring.

“Right, right… so what were we talking about?”

His date smiles wide at the movement before his face takes on a more serious edge.

“Oh boy. Now he’s coming over. Shit.”

  Keith pulls a face, about to inform his date he could probably take just about anyone who wants to cause them trouble when a familiar voice crashes through his senses like a bloody train wreck.

  “Knew I recognized that mullet.”

  No.

Keith retrieves both his hands and slips them under the table to grip at his knees.

Of all the horrible luck...

  “Oh— you know him?”

  No gods no please.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening this can’t…!

  “Yeah man. Keithykins here and I go way back.”

  Keithykins. Keith hated when Lance called him that. It always meant he was up to no good which he clearly was at this exact moment.

But Keith couldn’t move. Couldn’t look up. Because Lance’s voice is doing things to him just the way it’s always done and suddenly he’s 19 again, laying right beside the love of his life as he plays with his hair and holds him close, talking about where they’re gonna move when they graduate…

Lance was supposed to move. He was supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be anywhere but here in this bar sliding into the booth next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and smelling like heaven never truly left him—

  “Lance don’t—”

Lance reaches forward with the hand not currently squeezing Keith’s shoulder and grabs Keith’s chin.

And Keith wants to stop it, wants so terribly to push him off and beat him half to death with a bar stool but—

But between meeting in high school, falling in love, breaking up and the years Keith spent wishing and wishing and wishing for a moment just like this in his delusional heartbroken state… he’s just— he’s just been in love with Lance for so fucking long how could he ever say no…?

  Lance tilts his face up to look at him and Keith could swear it’s like looking at the sun. He’s so bright and beautiful and perfect but it hurts so much it hurts

So much.

How is he still so gorgeous? How have the years not worn him down, made him tired? Made him into something that didn’t have complete and total control of Keith’s heart please—

  “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

  Those words amount to two things in Keith as soon as they’re spoken.

First, it’s fury. Blind, “I absolutely will beat you to death with a bar stool” kind of unadulterated fury. The kind of fury Keith is positive Lance has never before had to witness from him because he was always too cute or too funny or too hot (Jesus, baby, take me now!) to leave Keith in that state for long.

Second, and more pressing, unfortunately, was the way Keith ran through the million other times Lance had called him Kitten.

The “too hot” Lance who put Keith’s rage to better use.

He remembers the burn in his thighs, riding Lance in the backseat of the little blue civic, “you’re doing so well kitten, fuck, taking my cock so well!”

He remembered laying on his stomach in his bed, Lance’s face stuffed between his ass cheeks and humming, “you like this Kitten? You want more?” And Keith’s resounding fucking mewl when he sunk his tongue back into his heat.

He remembered sitting in Lance’s lap at a frat party, waiting for Pidge to finish her experiment so they could take her home, indulging in a couple drinks while Lance kept his arms firmly around his waist pressing small little kisses into Keith’s neck.

“Can’t wait to take you home, kitten…”

Keith remembers faintly how that comment had actually come from Lance’s anxiety over asking Keith to meet his family over the winter break and not just because Keith kept squirming against Lance’s cock that night.

He remembers Lance staring at him for a long while, when they’d gotten the BnB for their anniversary and Keith had tried to cook for them.

He remembers Lance’s fond expression after he’d angrily tossed a partly melted spatula into the sink and screeched at him, “What?! What is it?!”

And Lance had so easily slipped out of his chair, wandered up beside him and pressed their foreheads together, “my god, sweetheart, light of my life, kitten, you are so fucking precious… but please let me make breakfast.”

  And so the fury melted into a single whispered lie.

“I hate you.”

—

  Lance didn’t plan to go out tonight. He had planned to stay home with a barrel of bluebell ice cream and his cat and binge watch whatever new show he could find on Netflix.

But Hunk had insisted.

Nay, nagged!

And Hunk then confessed, after Lance had already agreed under conditions of bribery, blackmail, and the miraculous healing of Hunks weepy broken heart (the faker), that Hunk had arranged a date for him.

Lance had feigned a hint of interest over FaceTime before hopping in the shower and thumping his head into the wall a number of times that would have been questionable if he’d had a roommate.

Because he didn’t want a date.

He didn’t want anything.

He stupidly selfishly threw away the only thing he ever truly wanted for the unknown other and has spent the last few years regretting that decision with every bland girl and boy who could never make his blood run like—

He’d shaken his head, don’t think about him, you’re not allowed to think about him anymore he’s probably off and about with someone who actually deserves him. Who loves him enough to not be a stupid dunce about a thing like true commitment?

If he could go back.

If he could go back, he’d etch his name into his soul, never let go of his hand, never take him for granted again just—

Stop.

Stop it.

Keith was better off this way.

Lance can live in monotony, it’s his punishment.

  Still, he was Lance. And he had an image to maintain. Desire to date or no. He made sure he was dressed like a charmer. Besides, he never really knows does he?

No one will ever be Keith but maybe he can still find some kind of happiness.

Right?

Was he allowed?

He hoped Keith was happy.

He wished Keith was there. Fingers curling in the little tufts of hair at the back of his neck, cracking jokes about Lance’s obsession with his long hair, “you can’t rock it like I can Lance.”

“Like I’d ever want a mullet.”

“You love it.”

I love you.

I love you.

Stupid things he should have said.

He should have said it because even if he didn’t really understand it, he felt it and he knew Keith felt it and if he’d just said it—

  Nope.

Stop.

Not allowed.

  He checked himself in the mirror one last time for any minor imperfections and shot Hunk a text that he was on his way.

Of course, leave it to Hunk to not specify which lounge he was currently occupying and for Lance to make assumptions that it was the usual location.

He was sitting at the bar and had already ordered one drink when he got impatient and sent his best friend another slightly irritated text.

  “I figured when you were inviting me out that meant you’d be here already…”

The response was an immediate

“What?”

And before he could text back his phone was ringing.

He rolled his eyes, took a sip of his rum and coke and pressed accept.

“Where are you, I don’t see you—” Hunk started before Lance replaced his drink and picked up his phone to face himself and the rest of the lounge behind him.

“I’m chilling at the bar since you couldn’t be bothered to—”

Hunk’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “oh man did I not mention?? We’re at the new place that opened up—”

Lance felt the beginnings of his temper about to flare and grit his teeth, “you’re telling me I’m at the wrong place? Dude, what’s wrong with Altea?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with Altea! It’s just that Shay has friends who just started working at The Balmera and we thought why not?”

“Well maybe you should have said something about that earlier!” Lance groaned and pointed his phone away from himself for a moment so he could rub his temples with his free hand before retrieving his drink.

He briefly heard Hunk mumble something just as he lifted the phone up again and when he could see his friends face again, he just had to ask.

“Yo did someone just get shot or something? Hunk what’s wrong?”

“Oh man. Uh. Nothing. You should get out of there though— like I mean. Hurry up and get over here— shit you started drinking— how about an Uber? I’ll order you an uber.”

Lance stared into the screen for a long moment before deciding Hunk could eat shit on his own time.

“Spill it or the first thing I’m doing when I meet Shay is talking about summer camp.”

“You know what? I would take that hit for you. Because we’re bros, now finish your drink so I can call you an uber.”

That? That was too much. There was no way Hunk was going to just take that abuse unless he was trying to cover for something really bad.

Finally, putting two and two together; Lance turned on his stool to investigate the rest of the bar and he immediately zeroed in on what had caused Hunk to get jumpy.

And honestly, he couldn’t blame him considering how fast his own heart jumped into his throat.

“Lance buddy no- just get over here okay? We’ll have an amazing night, Romelle here is like-- super sweet and dying to meet you- Lance come on-”

Lance didn’t look at his phone, barely registered he was still holding it until he heard his plastic cover start to creak under his tightened grip.

“It- It might not even be him okay!?” Hunk persisted.  

Lance isn’t having it. Knew Hunk was spouting nonsense. Knew who that was better than he knew his own name.

  Lance used to wake up every morning staring at the back of his head. Played with the ends of his hair. Kissed his neck. Bit into his shoulder. Gripped his hips. Mumbled sappy little nothings against his skin while the dark-haired angel in his arms started to breathe a little shallow and sway his hips…

Lance had actual heaven and he lost it.

  But there he was. Perfect and beautiful and making small talk with—

Who the fuck was that?

  He doesn’t know how long he’s staring before the beautiful boy turns his head, quick, Lance barely has a moment to register the bars mood lighting glinting off his skin,

But he knows without a doubt.

  Hunk is still begging him to listen, to leave, to go out with him and the girls and pretend this wasn’t happening.

But how the hell was Lance supposed to do a thing like that?

  The universe had presented him with a gift.

A gift he didn’t feel he deserved, but a gift he absolutely wasn’t going to squander.

If there was even a chance. Even a tiny piece of love left inside Keith for him then he needed to know.

If there was a chance in hell that Keith might ever even look at him the way he used to—he needed—

  He hung up on Hunk and walked over without thinking. He spoke before he allowed himself to really look at Keith. He’s so blinded by the angry twisting in his gut when he sees Keith’s beautiful perfect hands in someone else’s grasp— is he still wearing those ridiculous gloves??— man, of course he is.

But then Keith retrieved his hands at the sound of his voice, and Lance follows that motion with his eyes, he really gets to look at him.

His hair has grown out a bit, and he’s broader in the shoulders. Honestly, he’s more gorgeous now than ever. Dressed in black leggings like he used to wear all the time at home, comfortable with one of Lance’s old shirts. Today it’s more black instead, tight, something he probably got before his last growth spurt but only managed to make him look even better as it stretched over his chest and shoulders. Just a little gap of skin at his waist where his shirt didn’t meet the waistband of his pants. Keith’s ivory skin was such a sharp contrast from the darkness he’d bathed himself in it was hard to keep his eyes from being drawn to certain places.

So, he forces himself to look only at Keith’s face then, to see how pointedly Keith tries not to look at him.

He sits down next to him, again without thinking. Maybe because it still feels so damn natural to gravitate to his side.

Lance felt the heat building in his chest, in his face, he knew what he was doing was wrong, he knew he was probably hurting Keith with this but…

Just one more selfish act. He had to look him in the eyes. He needed to see.

  And if there’s nothing in Keith’s eyes for him Lance would leave. A quick peck on the cheek so he can tell himself that was their true last kiss, say something polite, try not to hurt himself on his way out of the bar when he’s positive he won’t be able to see from the stupid tears that would definitely build. But he’d leave. If there is nothing left inside of Keith for him Lance would let him be.

  So, when Lance reaches out and turns Keith’s face to his, recognizing that look, it’s over.

  It’s written all over his face.

The universe has given him a gift. And that gift is a Keith who against all better judgement is still desperately in love with him.

It’s everything in him to not kiss him right there. To not pull him onto his lap and tell the stranger to go. Because Keith is his, has always been his, will always be his.

  “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

  —

By the time his date leaves Keith can’t feel his fingers. Lance’s hands traced circles up and down his side just under the table the whole damn time making Keith feel both dirty and goddamn delighted because fuck, did he miss Lance’s hands but also no, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck Keith get a hold of yourself?!?

  When his date’s brows furrow and he actually tries— god help his poor unfortunate soul— to ask Keith if he’s okay, if they should go, Keith can’t even look at him.

His skin is hot and he’s sure it plays on his face.

And Lance knows it too, casually reaching an arm up to run through Keith’s hair before pushing him into his chest.

And Keith— damn his pathetic heart—he melts right into him.

“We’ve got a bit to catch up on, so I think Keithykins wants to stay, don’t you Gorgeous?”

Keith hates it. Hates himself. Hates Lance.

But he nods.

  And with that, the stranger is gone and it’s just Lance and Keith on one side of the booth, Lance’s short nails bluntly scratching affectionately at his scalp.

Keith almost imperceptibly pushing closer, afraid that this is all some cruel joke and when he shows just how much love he still harbors in his heart Lance night pull away.

Might mock him.

Might hurt him.  

What other reason could there be for this?

Lance left him. Lance left him to pursue some bullshit ideas about his identity or what the fuck ever, some other piece of crap reason to break up with someone when the truth is you just got bored.

  Because that’s right. That’s what it took Keith so long to figure out.

He left because he got bored. Because Keith wasn’t enough for him anymore. Because feelings didn’t matter because caring for one another didn’t matter. Keith wasn’t attentive enough or hot enough or worth enough—

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Lance mumbles into the top of his head.

He sounds timid now. Way less the menace that just ruined his date and more someone who might actually care about another person's feelings.

Hah.

Yeah right.

Yeah right yeah right yeah right—

Keith shuts his eyes tight and lifts his head, nosing into Lance’s neck.

He knows his actions won’t match his words, but he can’t help it.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to be okay…?”

You’re the fucking devil and I’m still in love with you.

  Lance takes a deep breath and his arms wrap tighter around Keith’s waist now, “yeah I uh… this was probably the biggest dick move of my life, huh?”

Keith snorts, and despite how hard he’s trying, he knows his cheeks are getting damp and Lance will notice soon. He lowers his head back to Lance’s chest to put it off as long as possible.

“You can absolutely beat the crap out of me later,” Lance offers.

Keith nearly counters with “let me carve your heart out and maybe we’ll be even.” But instead he huffs again. Because words are difficult right now.

“I just. Couldn’t pass up the chance to… see you again.”

Keith wants to scream.

“You never realize how big this city is until you start wishing you’ll turn a corner and see someone and it just… never happens?”

Keith knew damn well. Spent years after leaving university, a drop out who couldn’t get his act together again, watching for Lance everywhere, hoping to catch his eye and be offered a smile— a brisk jog over, an apology, an offer to get lunch together. Catch up. Try being friends again. Spend a few weeks dancing around each other stupidly until someone cracks and kisses the other and then Keith could finally feel whole again—

Yeah. Keith fucking knew how uselessly huge this fucking city was because he never saw Lance again.

Until now. Until he selfishly and cruelly let himself in on his date and made Keith feel so fucking much.

Proving to Keith that he hadn’t grown past the boy who’d selfishly decided to leave him in the first place.

“I…Uhm… I’m…”

“An idiot.” Keith grits out finally.

Lance physically deflates under Keith’s weight but nods.

“Yeah.”

“Selfish asshole.”

Lance nods again, slowly shifting his head so he can hide his face in the top of Keith’s hair. Not that Keith can see him anyway.

“Fucked up years of my life and the second I try to move past you here you are to fuck it up even more.” Keith continues. He doesn’t want this moment, wrapped in Lance’s arms to end, but he can’t just pretend Lance didn’t hurt him. Lance’s hold doesn’t weaken but Keith is scared all the same, so he wraps his own arms around Lance. It makes the taller man’s breath hitch ever so slightly but Keith can’t care about that. Won’t.

“You’re a cruel man.”

“I know.”

Keith blinks. The dampness on his eyelashes leaves droplets on his face but he can’t quite grasp the dejected way Lance spoke.

He raises his head, removing the barrier and comfort Lance has found in his hair, and looks him in the face.

“I’m a monster Keith. I know.” Lance says again.

And with those words, staring into Lance’s eyes even as he tries to look away, something clicks in his brain.

“No…” Keith breathes out, head bobbing up for a moment as he tries to make a decision.

Lance sees the motion and his eyes widen but he remains anxious, unsettled under Keith’s gaze. But Keith loves him.

Keith loves him and so he presses a small kiss to the corner of his lips.

“No. Not a monster. I know monsters.” Keith mumbles against Lance’s cheek.

“Stupid. Selfish. Reckless. Sometimes cruel. But you’re not a monster, you’ve never been.”

Keith pushes himself up on the booth seat, turns and throws a leg over Lance’s lap. The area is cramped, and his back is against the edge of the table but fuck it.

Fuck all of it.

Fuck the years of his misery fuck how much pain Lance had caused him. Lance was also the cause of the happiest moments of his life and he wanted that back damn it.

He just. Needs to make sure Lance wants it too.

“Tell me… are you sorry, Lance?”

Lance nodded.

“Did you spend these years wallowing in regret?”

Lance’s eyes looked damp too.

“You have no idea.”

Keith nods, “are you sorry for the stupidly devastating way you just handled things right now…?”

Lance opened his mouth to speak but paused. Keith retrieved his arms from where they’d landed on Lance’s chest in the shift in position and Lance reflexively pulled him in closer.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m only sorry it was devastating to you. I’m not sorry that I get to be holding you right now, that you’re in my lap looking at me like you might actually be willing to come home with me…I’m a dick but I’m not going to spit in the face of the universe.”

Keith rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, letting them lean against Lance’s chest again.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not coming home with you.”

Lance nods quietly at that one. He’s doesn’t seem disappointed, like he knew it was a stretch when he said it.

And it was. And Keith is already letting him off too easy it’s just…

Keith really wants to kiss him. Really wants to go home with him and forget the last few years ever happened. Hold him until morning and know he’ll never leave his side again.

  “You… really hurt me Lance.”

Lance’s brows furrow and he breathes out through his nose and he leans his head forward to press against Keith’s forehead.

“And I am so, so sorry.”

“I could have given you everything— I did give you everything…!” Keith is panicking, because he knows what he wants and knows what he deserves, and he hates that in this moment Lance isn’t both.

And Lance knows it.

  “Baby—baby, I know, I know I don’t deserve you. I know I ruined everything for us but please— if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  Fuck.

Fuck Keith wanted to believe him.

“How can I trust that…?” His voice sounds weak and cracked and he hates it. “You couldn’t commit to me before how the hell are you supposed to commit to me like that now?”

  “I was a stupid college kid who didn’t know any better. If I could go back to that cute little place we rented on our anniversary— the one where you tried to make pancakes you beautiful absolute chaos creature— I’d have asked you to marry me because living like this, without you has been the worst time of my life and I promise you— I promise—Keith…?”

  “...marry you…?”

  Lance blinks, reaching up with one hand and wiping one of Keith’s wayward tears off his cheek as Keith stares at him with wide eyes.

Lance tries to keep the awkward smile from playing on his face because he realizes mentioning marriage when your ex boyfriend is struggling with the idea of being with your ungrateful ass again something that big should probably wait but…

But it’s true. Lance should have asked Keith to marry him then, and he would happily do so now. If Keith wanted.

  Keith lowers his head and mumbles something short and quick that Lance doesn’t catch.

“Sweetheart?”

  “You don’t really mean that… do you…?”

  Lance sighs and nods, “I do. I know I shouldn’t because I hurt you, but I do. I’ve spent the last few years mourning the life I could have had with you— that we should have had together. Kitten, I promise if you let me I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing, especially me, ever hurts you again.”

  Keith feels his resolve breaking. As if he had any left when he sat in Lance’s lap and told him he wasn’t a monster.

“Call me that again…” he mumbles, staring at the collar of Lance’s shirt. It’s a deep v neck, showing off a bit of that firm chest Keith loves so much. He wishes he were staring out of love and not because he doesn’t think his heart can handle looking into Lance’s face.

Lance leans forward again, and Keith can hear the smile on his lips even if he can feel the tension in his arms.

“Kitten…”

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t think I can.” Keith barks abruptly. “Feels like I lose if I kiss you. It’s me giving in and forgiving you. But if you kiss me then it’s you being selfish and careless again. But I want to kiss you. So, so badly.”

Lance remains perfectly still for a long moment before Keith makes a small noise, “Please be selfish one more time…?”

And Lance is gone to do his bidding, one hand at the small of Keith’s back, the other just behind his neck as he captures his lips. Heart pounding so loud in his chest he feels like it might actually kill him. But so is Keith’s. Keith whose arms wrap around Lance’s neck and head to keep him as close as possible. Keith who pushes his body and conforms to Lance’s in a way that makes if feel like they’ve never been apart. They always just fit together like this and always would.

Keith’s lips are soft. Softer than he remembered them. A testament to the effort Keith put into his date before he’d come around to wreck it. But given how Keith slowly moves his lips against Lance’s, that Lance is the one who gets to taste those lips even if it’s just for a moment— well then it was kind of worth it right?

But as quick as it starts, it’s over and Keith is panting with his forehead against Lance’s cheek.

“Thank you.” He breathes out. And Lance can’t help it.

Can’t help but say the words out loud, the ones that he never said when he was supposed to before.

“I love you.”

Keith freezes.

Lance feels his insides start to twist uncomfortably.

Keith slowly raises his head to stare into Lance’s face and Lance knows he can’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“Again.” Keith mouths.

Lance’s face implores him, he’s terrified of these words, of saying them to Keith in this position. Talking about his desire to spend the rest of his life with him doesn’t feel as dangerous. If Keith were to hear those words from his lips and fail to believe him— to call him a liar—

  He’s not lying.

He’s not lying, and Keith will know that and even if he doesn’t, even if Keith is still in too much pain to believe those words are true and he lashed out then— well, Lance deserves it doesn’t he?

  “...I love you, Keith.”

  Keith is silent, staring, his nearly violet eyes bare through him and give nothing away.

  “I always have I was just… too stupid to believe it.. to say it…”

  “Lance…” Keith’s voice is steady. “...again.”

  “...I love you…”

  Still Keith watches.

  “Kitten…?”

  “I guess you are a monster… to say that to me. Here. Now. Of all times and places…”

  Lance feels his heart start to shatter at those words, but it doesn’t match Keith’s face, doesn’t match the way he starts to crawl off his lap but instead holds his hand, keeps their fingers intertwined as he pulls him up off the booth.

  “Now you have to take me home, make me feel it.”

  Oh.

  Keith smiles at him and Lance feels like he’s seeing the sun shine for the first time in years, in the middle of the night in this parking lot.

Lance smiles and Keith feels like the pit of ice that had started in his gut and travelled up his chest  to swallow up his heart so long ago was finally, finally, melting away.

Lance shows him to his newer blue civic. It’s still an old used car but this one is from this decade. Keith hates it, because he says this car doesn’t remember him like the old one does.

Lance laughs but Keith is already leading him, laying back against the passenger side door and pulling Lance down to him.

It’s an invitation and Lance wants to take it but waits. Waits because after everything, every move from here on out is for Keith.

And Keith intends to take advantage of it, “Hey Lance… you can start now.”

“Start....?”

Keith’s fingers tug at Lance’s V-neck, laying his head back against the car and peering up through hooded eyes, “Say it again. And make me feel it.”

Lance stares at him, feels one of Keith’s knees start to slide up his thigh, and he wonders how the hell he ever gave this up. Lance nuzzles into Keith’s neck, extended as it was by his position, and breaths him in, “God, I love you so much.”

Keith huffs, a more pleasant sound than when he’d done so earlier, “Yeah, I knew it, already getting old…”

Lance raises his head so fast, a small whimper in his throat and Keith laughs outright.

“Relax dumbass... one more time.”

“I don’t think I want to, now.” Lance whines.

Keith rolls his eyes, “Again. Lance. Please.”

Lance kisses him instead. It comes as a surprise and Keith’s hand almost comes up to push him away, but Lance is already leaning back, “No, you don’t have to say please. I love you. I’ll say it however many times you need me to, as many times as I can, no matter how much you want to tease me because fuck it I deserve it.”

Keith leans his head back against the car again, “Yeah, you do. But I’ll stop… for now. You can kiss me again instead.”  

  Lance nods and moves back in, lips against Keith’s once again, his hands wandering into Keith’s hair and tugging absently because he still can’t grasp how this might actually be his life again and he needed to latch on to something. Keith doesn’t seem to mind. He’s the first to part his lips, tongue not asking for permission so much as demanding it and Lance can’t give it fast enough.

Lance will do better this time. Make sure Keith never regrets tonight.