Lance

Hey bby just saw the weather rport. You ok?

Sorry. Need you

Be right there. Hang tight

Sorry

Apologising again, Lance thinks as he jogs away from the bus. Why can't the guy get it into his head that these things just happen? He's given up telling Keith to quit saying sorry, as it usually upsets him more. Lance hasn't quite figured out why yet.

He pauses, panting, looking up at the dark, swirling clouds. A low rumble begins to build into something louder and Lance curses softly, starts running again, splashing through puddles, mirrors soaking his feet. The rain is that soft rain that comes with a summer storm – fat, heavy drops, but few and far between. The sparrows are singing, sweet melodies almost suffocated by thunder. The smell is amazing.

Crap, it's taken me like…. half an hour? At least it's not on top of us yet. But it's pretty damn close. He leans against the gate to their house, preparing himself. Calm head on, Lance. Remember how Mama dealt with you when you had nightmares. Don't take any bullshit.

Lance fumbles with his key, opens the door. Stripping himself of his shoes and socks, he calls up the stairs.

"Keith, I'm home! Where are you?" Another rumble of thunder, louder this time, and he hears a small sob coming not from upstairs, but from the living room.

"H-here. L-Lance I'm so sorry, I'm so s-stupid-"

Lance rushes into the living room and looking round, murmurs "Shh, shh no, you're not stupid, don't worry…" Coffee table. Laptop, closed. Mug of tea, still half full. He edges round to peer behind the sofa and a face, white with fear and red with shame, looks back. He falls to his knees and reaches out to put his arms around Keith, whose body is trembling. He buries his face in the crook of Lance's neck.

"Th-this is the third time now, you're…you're gonna get fired because of me…" Another choked sob.

"Nah, of course not, I told my boss that it's a family emergency that will happen every so often. He's pretty chill, so he gets it. Now, let's get yo-"

Thunder again. Keith squeezes the other man's torso too hard. A hand strokes his hair.

"Oh my god, babe, hey hey it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. You're safe…."

"W-w-why am I like this, why am I fucking like this, Lance, I c-can't-"

Keith's eyes are blazing with shame and anger at himself, and Lance feels at a loss.

"Shh, let's just get you upstairs yeah? And I gotta get changed, I'm soaked, I can't hold you like this."

They make their way up the stairs, Lance keeping his arm around the other man's waist – last time thunder had struck while they were on their way up, and Keith had nearly fallen.

Lance pulls the creamy covers over his boyfriend's trembling body, and removes his damp clothing before sliding in next to him.

"Sorry if I'm cold, you'll just have to deal with it." Keith is curled up, arms covering his face, and he retreats even further when Lance reaches out to him.

Nu-uh babe. I'm not letting you shut me out again. This is for your own good.

He gently but firmly grips Keith's wrists, pulling them out of the way.

"Look at me."

"I…no."

"Fucking look at me. Don't be a coward."

This gets him. Keith glares.

"Well, clearly I am a coward, right? I love the outdoors, I love nature, but…b-being scared of a fucking thunderstorm, what kind of adult is scared…is scared of that? To the point where th-they need babysitting! What kind of stupid-ass fear…A-a-and having to get you to ditch work to…to…You're gonna be fired, and it's gonna be because of me! I'm so weak, I'm so pathetic, I-"

The rumble is deafening now, and because he is so worked up, he goes into a panic attack. Lance had been hoping to avoid this, it had scared the shit out of him the first time it happened (they had both been convinced Keith was going to die). But now he knows what to do. He holds him, rubs slow circles on his back while the other man gasps and shakes. Tells him to breathe slow, he'll be okay, he won't die, it'll be over soon, Lance is right here.

This one is quite short, and soon Keith quietens down, breathing back to normal but still trembling. Eyes still flashing with self-loathing. Lance takes his face in his hands and looks into his lover's eyes. His voice is soft. The words flow without him thinking about it.

"Listen to me, amor. You do know I'm frightened of ghosts, right? Y'know, if I saw one, I'd scream my lungs out and leap to high heaven? Even though the chances of meeting one are statistically low? Even thinking about it gives me the creeps…It's called an irrational fear babe. You're not an idiot – you know that thunder isn't gonna hurt you, I know that. The same way I'm not really sure what a ghost could do to hurt me. We're just scared. Irrational fear. Doesn't make sense, it just…it just is. And I'd be willing to bet that every damn person on this planet has one. And yours-" he kisses Keith's cheek "just happens to be thunder. I'm your boyfriend. It's my job to take care of you. So, you aren't allowed to feel guilty. Cos if we ever get trapped in a forest at night, or a spooky castle, I'll be relying on you to protect me. And I sure as hell ain't gonna feel bad about it. Okay?"

A few stray tears hold onto Keith's lashes, but he attempts a small smile.

"…O-okay…"

"And now," Lance reaches over his lover's head to the bedside table, grabbing his headphones. "You are gonna listen to some tunes and I'm gonna cuddle you until this is over, okay? 'Lance knows best, listen to your La-ance! '"

He had dragged Keith along to watch Tangled with him when it came out, and this reference got a watery laugh in return. He slides the headphones onto Keith's head just in time. The thunder is above them now, and the music manages to drown most of it out, but Keith still clings to him, pulling the covers up further and snuggling close.

Lance looks down at the dark head buried in his chest.

Everything about Lance's personality is big. When he is happy, life is a dream. When he is sad, the world is ending. Any suspected slight to him or those he cares about results in immediate, if short-lived, outrage, and things other people find slightly amusing he finds hysterical.

Drama queen, obnoxious, annoying, can't he just shut up?

And every time someone has told him that, every one of those countless, countless times, he's laughed it off. Trying to cramp my style, he'd say. Jealous of me. I'm just that good. That's where Lance first found understanding with Keith – being too full of pride to admit the truth. To show weakness to their scathing looks and dismissive words, and eye rolls.

But he had his family and a few friends who got him and knew where to draw the line with teasing, and accepted his own teasing readily. He was happy.

He would never lie about how he fell for Keith. It wasn't love at first sight. At first, he had barely noticed him at all – he sort of had him down in his head as 'that loner guy' and left it at that. Then one day, he was blocking the loner guy's way as they tried to get to their seats in the lecture hall. He moved aside with an apology, and the guy went passed with a "Thanks". And Lance caught a glimpse of his eyes.

Violet.

Huh.

And then it had passed from his mind for a few days. But when he found himself sitting at the next table over from the Keith in the cafeteria, he was drawn in. Wow, they are actually violet, I've never really thought people had those. I mean, I've seen Internet images, but most of those are Photoshopped anyway…They're so bright, I wonder which parent he gets it from. Long lashes too, kinda pretty-"

"Um…can I help you?"

"Huh?"

"You looked like there was something you wanted to say." The guy's tone was aggressive, his expression untrusting, ready to fight. Lance was taken aback.

"Nah, sorry, but…"

"Yeah? What?"

"…Eyes. Violet. You have. Um."

Now Keith's eyebrow was cocked, and a small smirk was on his lips.

"You wanna try that again?"

"I..I've never seen violet eyes before. They're pretty cool man. Awesome." He smiled.

This gesture of peace somehow made Keith's haunches rise again, body language defensive.

"Uh…thanks."

Lance really didn't get this guy.

And as he started to find out more and more about him, his interest grew. Keith was pretty much the best in their year academically, was strong, quick-minded and good at sports – and gained either admiration or vicious jealousy from other students. As far as Lance could see, he had no friends. For some reason this annoyed him a little bit, and so he decided to benevolently offer himself as friend material to this weirdo.

After another attempted conversation, an unspoken war was declared – on Lance's part. That guy thinks he's hot shit just cos he's sooo naturally talented and he's all 'I am to be alone, I'm so emo and cool and badass with my pretty violet eyes and glares and moody poses, I don't care about anyone else'…I'll show him. I'll get him to see that I'm just as good. 'Don't need any friends' my ass…You'll be begging to be my friend by the time I'm done!"

Of course, it didn't quite turn out that way. The thing that did change though, was Lance's opinion.

He had thought that Keith was a natural at everything, that he never had to put in any effort. But every time he texted him, to tease him or ask if he'd finally decided he couldn't live without Lance's friendship…the guy was studying or working out. So, I guess the only reason he's so good at all this stuff is cos he works so hard at it…Guy must be a masochist…

He had thought that Keith just wanted to be alone because he hated other people. But every time Lance forced conversation by plopping himself down next him and pestering him…he discovered more and more that Keith genuinely found it difficult to express himself. It was always awkward, and if he revealed anything remotely personal, it was always with a look of doubt and…vulnerability. I mean, if it's that tough for him, then I get why he would think it's easier to be alone…

He had thought that Keith didn't care about anyone other than himself. But if ever anyone near him dropped anything, he would pick it up. When a guy passed out in class due to lack of sleep and proper nutrition, Keith carried him out to the ambulance. When a group of girls laughingly insulted a quiet, shyer student sitting nearby, Keith called them out and shut them down. He actually…has a pretty strong sense of justice, huh…And I've never seen him go out of his way to hurt anyone. Guess he doesn't hate people after all.

Opinion revised, Lance's approach started to mellow out, and to his immense surprise, Keith did too. It took a while, but the two started to become closer, doing homework together, working out together and chatting idly. And all the while, Lance was appreciating Keith's fond eye rolls and not-really-mean deadpan comments even more. He even started to get him to smile, and the moment he extracted a laugh was his greatest triumph.

He still hadn't been prepared for the kiss though.

Hot, feverish and desperate, hands in his hair and tongue rough in his mouth, class assignment tumbling from Lance's bed. He had instinctively returned the kiss, but he was still in shock. After a while, Keith had pulled back, searching for something in the other's eyes, and apparently not finding it. He roughly shoved Lance away and face burning with embarrassment, turned to leave.

Lance was not having that.

What followed was a heated argument in which Lance wasn't really sure whether he wanted to punch Keith or fuck him, and it resulted in them both confusedly agreeing that yes, they would be in a relationship together, so there(?)

And to be honest, they slotted into the roles perfectly. Despite the fact that Lance hadn't even been aware of his feelings a few days prior, even the first week felt natural, like he'd been Keith's boyfriend forever. They graduated together, supported each other through their job interviews, had fights and passionate make-ups. Keith was there when Lance's uncle died. Lance was there when Keith quit his job to become an author. Two years out of college, they moved in together. Lance had pestered for it sooner, and had received vague responses, but pretty soon after the move, he discovered why.

He had been sorting out the garden of the place they rented, pulling up stubborn weeds and neatening the vegetable patch. He had paused for a moment to catch his breath, when he felt a warm drop on his arm. Looking up, he saw that the sky was a chocolate brown, and he could now feel the thickness of the air, heavy with electric charge.

"Time to pack up, then."

He didn't quite manage to get inside before the rain hit, and as he rushed through the back door, a lightning sheet lit up the kitchen, accompanied by a thunderous growl. He heard a smash.

"Babe? What was that?"

He had found Keith huddled in the passageway, shards of glass around him, juice staining the carpet a soft orange.

Keith, who was so strong, so able, so fierce. He was crying now.

Once upon a time, Lance would have jumped at the idea of goading a Keith who showed weakness – well, maybe not while he was upset, even back then he hadn't been that much of a bastard – but he would certainly have poked a little fun afterwards.

But now, actually seeing it, he came to another conclusion.

Seeing Keith in distress makes Lance go quiet inside.

He had calmly ignored his boyfriend as he tried to push him away, called him every name under the sun, called himself every name under the sun, and then clung to Lance until the storm was over.

Lance had grown enough to know that Keith's insults were designed to hurt – they weren't his honest thoughts. And Keith always, always regretted them ten times over. And then he apologised.

The bed is cool. Lance wraps his arms tighter around the smaller body in his arms, entwining their legs, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Keith's eyes are closed as he listens to the music.

That's right. I get him now. It took me so long, but I came to mostly understand him. Because when he's hurting, he lashes out like an injured animal, wanting to get rid of the pain. His words are meant to sting. But I'm his Lance, his lover, and I have to see through that crap to the fear underneath. And dear lord, it's worth it. This man, this proud, proud man who despises showing any form of weakness to anyone, has allowed me into his heart enough to see the tears, the loneliness, the need to be held and comforted when he's afraid.

You trust me with your deep, passionate heart. You trust me to protect it. That's something you've never given to anyone else.

I feel rich.

Thank you.