#yah no

He indulges, because Lance is everything he’s wanted for as long as he can remember and if he’s dreaming he doesn’t want to wake up.. He leans back against the firm warmth of the blue Paladin and stretches his neck, giving himself more opportunity to feel his face in such a sensitive place. His skin is so soft, his lips moving just a little as he seems to grumble something in his sleep. Oh god he’s in heaven. He’s in heaven he’s in heaven he’s in— He’s squirming, a little subconsciously, a lot in excitement, but it’s how he realizes he’s not wearing pants. Or underwear. And actually feels a little... uh...did something dry on his thighs…?

Did they...? Did— The night comes flooding back to him. The ache. The desperation. The whole ass misery that Lance would never want him like that and— And then he was there with his fingers grazing his skin. Keith kissed him. Dragged him into bed, tried to undress him. Oh for the love of fuck he was a mess wasn’t he?! But then... Lance is still here. Lance is still here and holding him and... Lance... wanted him after all... All this time. Keith growled at his own stupidity. The noise seemed to alert Lance who was suddenly pulling away. Keith reacted to that with an immediate and vaguely uncalled for whimper that really was too pathetic a noise to have ever come out of his throat but it gets the job done. Lance’s arm freezes, hovering above Keith’s waist. Keith breaths out awkwardly before shifting under his covers enough to free his arm and reach for Lance’s hand, pulling it close to his face. It’s silent for a second. Two. Then Lance presses his face back into Keith’s neck. “You’re awake...?” Keith nods, his nose against the back of Lance’s palm. Lance wastes no time, “You remember what happened?” Keith’s nod is slower this time. Heat building in his cheeks from his embarrassment. Well he supposed it was one way to tell the love of your life how fucking badly you wanted them... “Should I take the way you’re holding my hand as you saying you don’t want me to leave?” Keith nods again, quicker, before ducking his head as if he could curl around Lance’s hand and never ever give it back to him. Lance seems almost inclined to let him if the little chuckle that escapes him is any indication. “From that little growl I thought you were mad...” Keith shakes his head roughly. Squeezes himself tighter around the small part of Lance he feels allowed to hold right now. There’s a spot or two, like freckles or sunspots following the curve of his thumb. Keith wants to kiss them but he’s still reeling. Lance is in his bed. Lance is in his bed with him breathing into his neck and they kissed and Lance stayed even though Keith almost forced himself on him and and— the embarrassment is killing him. How could he be so reckless. Lance deserved wooing like— like roses and dinners and cuddling for hours. But Keith had actual lube dripping down his thighs and asked Lance to fuck him while he was drunk like seriously, seriously, Kogane? What the fuck was wrong with you— “You’re not still... drunk are you? Or are you hungover? Maybe I should drop by Allura and Coran, get you some tea..?” Keith takes Lance’s hand and splays it out over his face, long fingers landing at his hairline. Lance chuckles again, “Sweetheart—”

“No. I’m not drunk. And I’m not really sure what a hangover is? I feel fine. I just. Kind of hate myself right now. I’m... so sorry, Lance.” He’s sure his blush is spreading to his ears and down his neck but Lance doesn’t seem phased. Keith is. Keith is replaying the word “sweetheart” in his head because it’s making his heart do backflips. He’s dying, and if he can do it wrapped in Lance’s arms he’d be ecstatic. Lance shuffles around behind him for a minute before his other arm is under Keith’s blanket and pushing at his waist against the bed so he can move beneath him, pull him into a hug, Keith guesses. And he’s certainly not going to say no to that so he lifts himself enough for Lance’s arm to pass through, snake completely around his waist, and pull them flush against each other. “Do you realize your whole body gets flushed when you’re embarrassed? It’s really adorable.” Lance presses a small kiss to Keith’s presumably red neck and Keith melts again, squirming against Lance because that tiny act is running right through him, making him want to feel Lance closer than was humanly possible. “You have nothing to apologize for. You were drunk. I understand. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry for.. well... taking advantage. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me. I shouldn’t have... uh... k-kissed you back... and... other places... or touched you... I Uhm... man Keith you...you’re really hard to say no to. Like really hard.” Lance shook his head and Keith could feel the soft brush of his lips against his skin. “That wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry—”

“That it happened...?”

Keith felt his eyelashes flutter.

“I— well— I mean... if it hadn’t happened how much longer do you think it would have taken for us to get here...?”

Keith squeezes his hand.

“I don’t like how it happened. And I’m sorry I indulged in ways I shouldn’t have. But... I’m really happy to finally know...”

Keith feels his heart pounding in his chest so loud.

He’s not mad. How could he ever be mad. He woke up next to the man he’s wanted for years. The one he would have given anything just to hold and now—

“Heh.. wish you could have caught me masturbating to you while sober.” He tries it as a joke. Because he doesn’t want to think about his stupid drunk weepy self.

If he’d been sober and Lance had caught him like that. If Keith had tilted his head back with crystal clear eyes and asked Lance to fuck him into the ground this whole conversation would go very differently.

No pity or apologies. Just satisfaction, warmth, relief.

“Y-you Uhm... did that while you were sober..?” Doesn’t sound like Lance is taking it as a joke.

Keith turns his head just enough so he can try and see Lance’s face from the corner of his eyes but to no avail.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time Lance... I thought you understood that?”

“R-right... I just... Uhm... I’m maybe uh... picturing it?? Picturing it... again... you’re really... you... fuck. It’s too early. You’re too hot. You’re breaking my brain, love.”

Love.

“Love me.”

“You don’t have to ask that...”

Love...

“Uh-Uhm...” Keith isn’t sure what words he could string together, what thoughts made sense for right this moment. Somehow he’s gone and fried his own brain just from that one little word.

“O-oh I mean...” and Lance realizes what he’s done.

Now he’s going to take it back. Sensibly, he should take it back—

“No. No, I meant that. Everything is all screwed up but I’m not gonna lie and say that I don’t love you, because I do. Have for ages I think... I can’t... I... all I want is to be with you and I’m really happy I can say that now.”

Keith’s pillow is suddenly damp. If he were standing he’d have crumpled to the ground already. Though he was sure Lance would have caught him, held him, loved...

Keith needed to look at him. Needed it like air in his lungs. To do that he needed to release Lance’s hand.

It’s a bit of a struggle. The sudden cold frustrates him but what he’s going to say he needs to be able to look Lance in the eyes when he says it.

He rolls over, enjoying the fact Lance only loosens his grip enough to let Keith move and immediately settled back into place.

His now free hand wanders into his hair massaging his fingers over his scalp.

He can see the tears Keith had wiped into his pillow and he opens his mouth to say something but Keith can’t hear it.

He’s just too lost in Lance’s face to register anything else.

His eyes are soft and deep, his lashes still a little heavy with sleep. His lips are a bit dry but they curve into such an inviting smile, warm and caring. The freckles over his nose that Keith was starting to think he’d imagined were still there being wonderfully endearing and complimenting the slope of his nose and the edges of his cheeks.

Keith adores every minute detail that makes up Lance McClain and it swells in his heart so strongly he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And yet when Lance’s brows furrow and concern pushes ever deeper into the lines of his skin Keith panics.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Keith blinks. Realizing there was water making the motion a little more difficult. He is still crying.

Oh god, he is still crying and he is looking at Lance and he hasn’t said anything—

“I love you.”

It’s Lance’s turn to blink. His lips shifting back into that smile as his cheeks tint darker.

“Keith—“

“I love you.” Keith says again, louder. He hadn’t meant for the first one to come out but it’s out so fuck it.

Lance breathes out through his nose and his eyes look a little misty.

Keith doesn’t care, “For the love of fuck, Lance, I love you so much I— I don’t know why I’m crying. I think it’s because I’m happy. My chest feels like it might explode, Lance, I love you.”

“Baby—“

“And you love me too. Shit, this is amazing. This is—- this is the best thing—“

Lance chuckles and the noise makes Keith’s heart pound harder. It’s killing him, he’s dying, he’s dying right here staring at an angel who he is so desperately irrevocably in love with—

“I love you.” Keith says it again because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stop.

But he does, because Lance shuts his eyes and maybe he cries a little but Keith doesn’t have the time to really see because suddenly Lance’s hand in his hair grips tightly and tugs and his lips slam into his and it’s hard but it’s perfect because it’s them. Because the two of them have a tendency to dive head first into things, especially when it involves each other. Because Lance doesn’t just catch him when he falls he encourages him to run. Because kissing him is like burning alive and being splayed open and he can’t fucking understand why he loves that feeling so much.

For Lance he is raw and he won’t change that.

“Love...” he breathes out between kisses, tongue intertwined with Lance’s because he just can’t stop, “You...!”

“Loveyou.”

“Keith.”

“Mm—I—loveyou.”

“...”

“Iloveyou.”

Lance is smiling.

Keith’s chest is burning. He could take a second to breathe but he doesn’t want to. He wants to keep kissing Lance, he needs Lance to know. He doesn’t know if it’s even remotely possible to convey these feelings to him.

The words... don’t seem like they’re enough.