Just a bit before S8 comes out, hmm?
Disclaimer: I do not own VLD.
It Started Out With A Kiss
It happens so fast that Lance wishes it was a dream. There is a gala, a warning, an explosion, and suddenly Lance is pinning Keith to the ground, their heads knocking together hard. Lance's vision blurs for a moment, skewed by the pain along his temple and throughout the rest of his limbs. Keith's chestplate presses painfully into Lance's arm, Lance's knee is no doubt digging into Keith's stomach, and both boys groan at the surface level injuries that they know will go away once the adrenaline officially takes over. For now, they lay in a disoriented haze with Lance's body aching, with party guests in a panicked frenzy, and Keith-
Keith turns his head to look at Lance and, as Lance does the same, they realize that they are so much closer than they thought. This is the closest they've ever been since the elevator incident. Close enough that Lance, even though he likely has a concussion, can see Keith's delicate eyelashes, his hair splayed out under his head wildly, his skin ridiculously smooth. Close enough that Lance's mouth actually brushes Keith's in the exchange.
It happens so quickly that Lance can almost pretend it doesn't happen at all. Only, it does. Keith blinks at him, just as stunned as Lance is, their faces flooding with colour. The gala hall is made dim with smoke after the explosion, but they're close enough to each other that the pinking of both their cheeks is just noticeable. There are civilians screaming, trying to find their way out, and something muffled in the background, like static. No, this is no dream.
"Lance, Keith, are you guys okay?"
Their friends' concern jolts them out of their stupor, and Lance scrambles off Keith just as Keith tries to roll out from under him. Lance wants to say something but saying something means acknowledging that it happens, and he's not sure he can do that quite yet. They both get to their feet, bayards out with their free hands desperately feeling along the table to get their helmets on in the dark.
This moment is meant to be forgotten with the rest of the battle, smothered by the blasters and droids and, inevitably, Voltron, but Lance is incapable of forgetting it. He lies in bed thinking about it for days, haunted by the ghosting of his mouth against Keith's, wondering how long it's been since he last kissed anyone at all. The mere thought of Keith leaves him sleep-deprived, his mind overthinking this millisecond in his life.
If anything, Lance thinks decidedly after, over a week of near sleepless nights, it just doesn't count as a kiss. His mind attempts to be firm that this... interaction does not constitute a kiss. This is not like the kisses from back home with doe-eyed girls trying hard to fall in love, or kisses with curious boys wanting to see what it felt like to be close to someone at a sleepover. This doesn't count. It can't.
Unfortunately, his heart doesn't agree.
As it turns out, neither does Keith.
"Don't remember. Didn't happen."
"You can't say that. You didn't even pass out after!"
Lance tilts his head against the back of the lounge sofa to look at Keith's annoyed expression at the doorway. "Keith," Lance drawls, "can you not just let me deny these things in peace?"
Keith's arms are crossed over his chest, his eyebrows angry, and his lips are downturned in a familiar scowl. Lance tries hard not to let his eyes linger on that last detail. It won't do him any good to dwell on it.
"I know what you're doing, and I don't appreciate it," Keith says flatly.
Lance throws an arm over his face, feels the weight of it press at his eyelids, and lets out a sigh. "Since when do you think you know what I'm doing?"
Keith moves into the room, the sound of his boots along the common room floor sounding more like a death sentence than the approach of a friend.
At that thought, Lance almost laughs to himself. Friend. It's been a long time since he's called Keith that, a long time since he's thought of Keith as such. Leaving someone behind does that (and not just because he always thought of the person leaving as more than just a friend). His heart doesn't really care, though, since it reacts to Keith's approach like an excited puppy, beating rapidly in its eagerness to have Keith close. His heart's never been quite good at lying.
"Lance." Keith says his name like it's something he's stuck on. Keith's voice is not biting or sharp or annoyed this time. It's pleading. It's something Lance has only ever heard in relation to Shiro when Keith is scared of his brother going somewhere that Keith will never be able to reach him. "I know you."
"Keith," Lance says back, genuinely put out by how much he wants that statement to be true. He tries not to sound too disappointed as he says, "I don't think you do."
Lance pushes himself off the headrest and lays on the lounge sofa instead, head pillowed in his arms. He'd stare at the ceiling if he wasn't so tired, kept up at night with the thoughts of Keith that are so pervasive he feels like he's back at the Garrison. He hates that he feels like he's just another insignificant student again, with Keith a million miles ahead of him.
Because Keith doesn't know him. He never knew him. Lance is more of a rival in his own head, and he knows it. He knows that when Keith remembers Lance, he sees a cargo pilot. And while Keith now sees a fellow paladin, that's all there is to it.
Lance tries to keep his eyes and mouth shut, but the latter is a more difficult endeavour, especially considering who his conversation partner is.
"I know you," says Keith instead, although it sounds a lot more like he's trying to convince himself. "I do. And you trying to run away from this is not helping."
"There is no 'this', Keith," argued Lance. "There never has been."
"See that?" Keith gets closer, and Lance feels Keith sit, his hip touching Lance's ribs. Lance's mind flashes back, unbidden, to the gala, the last time that Keith was this close to him. Lance's breathes in sharply but otherwise tries not to show any reaction. "What you're doing is avoiding me. That's running away. You can't keep telling me you don't remember. That's bullshit."
Lance's mouth twitched, his heart squeezing in his chest. "Are you talking about the gala or the bonding moment we supposedly had? Because, as unfortunate as it is, memory is a fickle thing," says Lance bitterly, determined not to give Keith the satisfaction of his wide-eyed attention. "Sometimes you've got it, sometimes it just slips away. People are a lot like that too. Nothing much I can do about that though."
"So you don't remember?" Keith tries one more time, just as stubborn as Lance is when he answers with:
"Don't remember. Didn't happen."
Keith's sigh is a mirror of Lance's, only this time, Keith stops touching him. For half a second, Lance believes that Keith is giving up on him, on this conversation, and that he will walk out of the common room completely. Instead of leaving their kiss in the past, Keith does what Keith does best: act. "Guess I'll have to refresh your memory then."
Now, historically speaking, words have always been Lance's strong suit. Words are useful in nearly every situation, and this situation, the one with Keith, is no exception. All Lance has to do is open his mouth and use the words, any of them. He could say 'stop', or 'wait' or 'what do you mean?'. They're all options.
But all at once his mind goes absolutely blank.
Because Keith's hand is on the arm Lance has pressed to the couch, and Lance's eyes flutter open to see that he's close again. Keith is not just an "I bumped into you in the hallway" close. He's close, as in three weeks again, gala-battle close; as in haunting Lance's every waking moment close. Keith's lips on his are just as effective as a hand slapped across Lance's face, but it's honestly a million times more enjoyable.
Or at least, it would be more enjoyable if Lance wasn't so floored by it. It's like a dream come to life as Lance finds himself unsure of what the right thing to do is. Does he kiss him back? Does he turn away?
The kiss is a second and an eternity all at once, and Keith pulls back with a flush that rivals his lion's bright paint. His bangs tickle Lance's forehead as he breathlessly says, "There. How's that for a refresher?"
It's a challenge. It's a challenge and a trap and a promise, and Keith looks so beautiful this close up that Lance is drunk on how much he wants him. Lance is struck by the damning realization that he is in love with this boy, and no amount of distance is going to be able to change that. Fuck.
"Pretty sure you weren't on top of me last time," says Lance. He's trying for casual, but Lance is so laughably gone for Keith that it shows on his face. It must. His body gives him away like the traitor it is. His face turns red, his voice cracks, and his eyes are drawn to Keith's mouth like a helpless magnet.
"Oh, so now you remember?"
In a moment of seriousness, Keith is trying to tease him, and Lance wants to fight him so bad that it hurts. There are so many things he wants to say to the boy still leaning over him. It feels almost unfair that as lonely as he's been without Keith, as upset as he still is about Keith's absence, a part of Lance has already forgiven him. It's embarrassing how fast Lance has gone from sour to swooning over this boy, and Lance knows that if he was given the opportunity to do it again, he'd still feel the same way.
After a moment of staring at Keith with eyes that no doubt scream adoration, Lance takes stock of Keith's own expressions. It surprises (and pleases him, Lance is not going to lie) that Keith appears just as embarrassed as Lance.
I love you, he wants to say. "What's it to you?" he gets out instead.
"It's important to me," Keith replies with absolutely no hesitation.
"Why?" Lance knows he's playing devil's advocate at this point. He knows, deep down, that Keith's kiss meant more than just the response to one of Lance's provocations. Still, Lance decides, he wants to hear Keith say it.
Lance feels like he's been thrown back into a dream when Keith says, "You're important to me."
There is a beat between them where Lance just sags into the cushions as his own feelings settle down, bone deep, alongside those words. Keith's validation assures Lance of what, he feels, he's always known: he can be as mad and as betrayed and hurt by what Keith's done, but at the end of the day, it doesn't erase how he feels. Lance is so in love, and their accidental kiss just made those feelings more intense. "Goddamn it, Keith," says Lance softly. He moves his hands so that he can hold Keith's face. "Just what do you want from me?"
"I just want to be with you, if that's what you want," says Keith, his voice just as soft. "I missed you so much when I was gone, and now that I'm back... After everything that's happened, I don't want to just go back to how things were." Lance watches Keith swallow his own nervousness as he adds, "Especially with the kiss. I don't think I'd be able to forget how I feel about you if I tried."
Lance's quiet intake of breath is an encouragement for Keith, who tries to smile.
Keith's attempt would have been laughable if it hadn't looked so fond. "I just wanted you to acknowledge that it happened, that something was there between us, but now that I'm here," he pauses, and Lance is sure that Keith would gesture to their position if he had the ability to use his hand, "I realize that this was kind of a little overkill, huh?"
"Overkill?" Lance pretends to think for a moment before his own foolish courage swells in him and he pulls Keith's face down to kiss him. "I think," says Lance when he gives them both a chance to breathe, "that maybe you need to remind me again."
Keith is happy to oblige.