Cold.
The realization struck Keith like a bus. Lance was starting to grow cold in his arms. Lance wasn't supposed to be cold. Lance was warm. He was warm and kind and cheerful. He was warm like sunshine.
Keith couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed, at the Lance that was in his arms now. Deathly pale, ragged breaths, blood dribbling down his chin, and a large shard of glass protruding from his stomach. The blood trickling down his stomach was warm. Lance wasn't.
This wasn't supposed to happen. This was all his fault. They had just been on a simple shopping trip when they had gotten in another one of their arguments. Keith had said something - he couldn't even remember what it was - that had made Lance go storming off on his own. He didn't even try to stop him. Next thing he knew, the ground was shaking from the force of explosions as the Galra invaded the once peaceful planet. He knew he had to find Lance, but he wasn't quick enough. He found him bleeding out, pierced by the glass of a shattered lamp post that lay nearby.
"Just hold on Lance," Keith couldn't help the crack in his voice as he choked out the words, not knowing what else to say, "you're gonna be alright."
Lance let out a wheeze that sounded vaguely like a bitter laugh before the sound escalated into coughs followed by more blood. "Don't… lie to me, Keith... "
"Don't say that!" Keith practically snapped, more out of anger towards himself than towards Lance, "we'll-... we'll get you to a healing pod, everything's going to be fine-"
Lance shook his head. "You and I… both know… I won't make it… in time." He took several moments to try and catch his breath. "I feel cold."
Those words caused Keith's breath to hitch and his grip to tighten around Lance, almost as if trying to share his own warmth. He vaguely realized there were tears streaming down his cheeks as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. As if any more needed to be spilled.
Keith leaned forward so his forehead was resting against Lance's. "Please. Don't leave me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure what exactly it was he was apologizing for, whether it was for making the stupid comment that had led to this situation, or for much more than that, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
"Don't you dare… blame yourself." Lance hissed as Keith pulled back to look him in the eyes, "just… shut up and listen to me." Keith could do nothing but give a mute nod in response.
"I've always actually… really admired you. You were always… everything I wasn't." He paused and closed his eyes, seeming to think about what he was going to say. "Shit, I feel dizzy… I don't think I… have time for a long speech. But anyways… I like you, Keith. Think I always have. Didn't want to die… having you think I hated you."
Keith felt like something was squeezing his throat. He couldn't breath. He felt happy, for a moment, before the feeling was overtaken by an intense feeling of emptiness. The boy he had been silently crushing on for longer than he could remember liked him back. But now it was too late.
He didn't trust his own voice enough to respond, so he did the only thing he could think of. He leaned forward once more, this time pressing his lips to Lance's to silence him in a kiss. The taste of blood flooded his mouth.
Lance responded weakly, before he had to pull away all too soon for more breath, a tiny smile left behind on his lips as he let his eyes fall closed. "I don't know if you… kissed me because you… felt bad that I'm dying or what… but either way… thanks."
Keith's eyes widened at his words. "What?! No, I- I wouldn't-... Lance?" No response. Keith's blood ran cold. He moved his gaze down to Lance's chest, praying to whatever deities there may be that he would still see Lance's chest continue to rise and fall with each breath.
Keith was not so lucky. There was no miracle waiting for him as his eyes met with a deadly stillness. No more breathing. No more pulse. No more Lance.
And suddenly, Keith felt warmth. The warmth of fresh tears, the warmth of the fires caused by the explosions burning around him, the warmth of fresh blood on his hands. Lance's warmth however - his smiles, his laughter, his everything - was gone.
Lance was cold.
You can thank my friend for the lamp post idea
"Don't fully kill him, just stab him with a lamp post or something."
I did both.
