Klance Week 2018 - Day 1: Home/Earth

Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender

How Could I Say No?

"Why? You're going to get yourself thrown into a hospital, you realize that, right? Or killed. Or passed out in some alley with no money and rips in your favourite jacket!"

Keith snorted and let his head hit the tiled walls. He never expected to find himself in the bathtub of his high school lab partner tonight. He expected the fight with his high school bullies late at night, he expected bruises that would take weeks to heal, he expected winning. Keith had known that he would be targeted just as he'd known that he'd be able to take on the same rowdy teenagers who insisted on shoving him in the halls at school. Keith had never been averse to getting his hands dirty when it came to fighting back. What he hadn't expected (and what he really should have anticipated) was Lance.

"And what is this stuff anyway?" said Lance, his fingers catching on the mud that knotted Keith's hair. "How is it possible that there's still dirt in your hair while it was raining? It should have washed out."

"A little earth never hurt anybody," grumbled Keith. He angled himself away from Lance's hands but was still within reach. "You try getting thrown to the ground in a rainstorm without getting some mud on you."

"Keith, cleanliness is important. You look like a mess. It's way worse than I thought it was."

Keith's scowl deepened. "Does it really matter what I look like at this point?"

"Of course it matters, Keith." Lance sat on the edge of the tub, eyes full of something Keith didn't recognize. Lance's fingers took Keith's chin and pushed him around a little, eyeing some of the more prominent cuts and bruises that no doubt decorated Keith's exposed skin. "I found you trying to head home in the rain, covered in cuts and mud, looking like you'd scrapped with dogs."

"I might as well have," grumbled Keith, upset with the reason for Lance's attention but not doing anything to stop Lance from touching him. The boy's hands were much warmer than the rain had been.

"What were you thinking?" Lance asked. "What were you even doing out so late? Did you get jumped? Is this a 'gang activity' sort of thing?"

"Just good old bullying, Lance. Not a big deal."

Lance never looked anything worse than angry in school but furious did not even begin to describe his expression now. Lance knew that there were… not as kind people at the school they went to. Lance knew that they had no kindness to spare on Keith, if any at all. "Keith, I know you're crazy tough and you probably kicked those guys' asses," Lance paused for breath and Keith couldn't help but note that despite Lance's frustration, he had been complimented, "but you've got to tell someone. They bother you enough at school. Now they're screwing around at night or attacking you in alleys or something like that? That's so dangerous, Keith."

Why did Lance keep bringing up alleys? "I've been known to get into fights, Lance. I know how to beat them," said Keith instead. "Besides, telling somebody is not going to help. There were no witnesses; it was just me and them; it'll be my word against theirs. I'm on my own."

"But I'm right here." Lance placed a hand on his own chest insistently, fingers twisting angrily in his shirt. "You could have called me. I would have helped."

As much as Keith would have loved to have Lance at his side, the danger for his friend would have been too great. Lance was potentially strong enough, but he had no fighting experience outside of wrestling with his family members in the living room for the remote. "You would have gotten hurt. Plus, your math test is tomorrow. I knew that you were studying. Plus, I didn't expect you to be out or anything."

"You didn't expect me to find out, is what you mean." Keith tried for a nonchalant shrug but it was too painful. Lance's angry expression wavered. "Why would you do that, Keith?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't want to talk about it."

"Keith, I thought we were friends."

Keith's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. How was he supposed to explain to Lance that his bullies did more than just shove him in the halls? They were the reason he'd gotten expelled just 3 months ago. They were the reason Keith was in so many detentions, why the principal had called Keith into his office to discuss anger management. They were the source of his rage whenever they made snide comments about Keith's friends because they looked different, spoke different, loved different people. "Lance, stop."

Lance pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and groaned. "Why did you agree to come over if you were just going to be difficult."

Keith gazed up at him, expression quiet. God, tonight felt like it would never end. "Lance, you asked me to come home with you," he said. "How could I say no to that?"

Lance's eyes grew wide and his groan became more exaggerated this time. He slid down to sit on the bathroom floor, face hidden in his arms. "You can't just say that."

Keith immediately bristled. "First you want me to tell you something, and then when I do tell you something, you don't want me saying it. What exactly do you want from me?"

"God, Keith." Lance peeked up at him carefully, leaning against the side of the tub. "You're too honest sometimes."

Keith tried to calm himself down and let his shoulders press against the tile of the bathroom wall. "Yeah, I know. I got detention for telling Iverson that yelling at students was unprofessional."

"If I remember correctly, there were a lot more curse words involved."

"I know that I'm blunt, Lance."

"It's one of your best qualities," said Lance helpfully.

Keith wrinkled his nose. "You called me an insensitive dick the first time I was 'honest' with you."

"You told me that my handwriting sucked on our first lab and that I'd drawn half the carbon structures wrong!" said Lance before sighing and letting his arm hang off the edge of the tub. "Besides, those are minor details."

"They don't feel minor," mumbled Keith.

They sat together in silence, the tips of Keith's hair still dripping muddy water into the tub. Keith's clothes were still dirty from his fight, and his skin was beginning to tighten as the dust and dirt solidified into a layer. His body felt wet and disgusting, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Lance to leave just to shower. It was so strange to end up in Lance's tub at the end of the night, but not as strange as Keith had always thought. Keith never thought that Lance would notice him in the middle of a rainstorm, drive him to his house, and proceed to shove him in the bathroom with nothing but an unopened first aid kit and a lecture.

He should be eagerly itching to clean and have this beautiful boy patch him up. Instead, he savoured the silence, their eyes locked in both challenge and resignation. How long had it been since he and Lance sat together? Keith knew that he took to admiring the look of his friends ever so often, it wasn't a crime to appreciate the beauty that was Lance McClain. Keith doubted that Lance was admiring him, though. He was a muddy mess, after all.

"Hey Keith?" Lance said finally.

"Yeah?" Nothing but the smell of earth and rainwater floated in Lance's bathroom. Not even the soap bottles sitting along the rim of the tub can cut through the scent of the mess that is Keith.

"I really hate you sometimes." Keith's mouth curled upwards and Lance immediately frowned. "Don't smile at me when I'm telling you how much I hate you."

"What else should I be doing?" he asked. If there was anything Keith knew about Lance, it was the fact that Lance's dishonesty was telling. He hid behind layers of himself, always moving and changing. The truth and the lies always wove into the smokescreen Lance lived in. Over the few years Keith had known Lance, he had found the boy evolving endlessly. So maybe, yes, a part of Lance had genuinely believed that it hated Keith. Now, though, it was different. Now, Keith and Lance actually knew each other, and it changed things. Now, it just took a little more time to fish out the truth.

"I don't know," said Lance, exasperated, "just not that."

Keith found himself missing their contact and brought his hand up to bump against Lance's. Instead of shying away, Lance took Keith's hand. "Look, I'm sorry I worried you."

"I wasn't worried," said Lance quickly.

"Sure, you weren't. You also didn't ask me if you should call the cops about 17 times between the street and your house."

"They would have been a reliable resource," argued Lance. "You were injured. You still are!"

"It was them or the ambulance."

"The ambulance would have taken too long. I should have driven you to the hospital myself. I still could."

He could tell that Lance was gearing up for another tangent and tried to stop him early. "Lance," said Keith firmly and his companion sighed again.

"It's not even the worry that's the worst part." Lance's blue eyes stayed on their hands. Lance's skin was dirtied from trying to clean Keith, while Keith's bruised and bloodied knuckles spoke for themselves. They'd long since removed the remains of Keith's gloves to see the type of damage done to his hands. Lance had been upset by what he'd seen but hadn't commented beyond saying that Keith was a mess. "We're a team, you know? I thought that we were getting good at relying on each other. Maybe I'm just selfish," said Lance suddenly, "but I wanted to fight with you."

There it was. The dripping felt louder than Keith's own heartbeat for a moment before the rhythm in his chest picked up hard and heavy in Keith's ears.

"Just because I didn't invite you to get beat up with me doesn't mean I don't trust you," said Keith.

Lance risked a look at Keith, eyes glossy and blue, and Keith felt his chest tighten.

"I'm sorry."

"You better be," said Lance, hiding his face in the crook of his arm and pretending to yawn so that he could wipe the beginning of tears on his shirt. "Getting mud in my bathtub is a pretty serious transgression, Keith Kogane. I don't remember it ever being this dirty."

"That's a lie, and you know it," said Keith with a chuckle. "You bathed your dog in this tub 2 years ago. I know it's seen worse. Besides, you put me here."

Lance's mouth twitched up. He thumbed a bruise creeping across Keith's knuckles. "You know too much about me but part of me is really not surprised," he said. "Some days it feels like you live here more than you live at home."

"Most days here feels more like home to me," said Keith. Even if the majority of time spent at Lance's house was doing homework, they spent plenty of time playing video games or lounging around the house in the winter simply talking to one another.

Lance flushed and coughed awkwardly into his free hand. "That a good thing?"

"I mean, it feels pretty good." Lance shifted his body to face Keith more directly and Keith mimicked him. "It's better like this."

Lance's eyes widened and Keith was half afraid he'd made a mistake. He began to pull his hand away, but Lance held firm, his grip increasing. Lance tugged him closer. "Keith?"

"Yeah." Keith's mouth felt dry.

"Don't fight without me next time okay?" Keith's shoulders lost some of their tension. "Or at least tell me where the fight is going to be so I can bring a first aid kit. You're not in this alone. There are people that really care about you and what happens to you. There are people that love you a lot, so you have to be careful, for them at least." Keith's face burned at Lance's implication.

"And what if they bring the fight to me?"

"You give them hell," said Lance. Their heads were close together, closer now that Lance was talking quietly. The sound of the water plunked down into the tub but the sound of Keith's heartbeat in his ears overpowered it. "And then you come home."

Keith chuckled, relishing the dwindling space between them, eager for it to close. "How could I say no to something like that?" he murmured, nose brushing Lance's. Lance breath hitched, and Keith swallowed the sound before pressing his mouth forward onto Lance's lips. On principle, it probably was not the best idea to sit in the bathtub and kiss his rival/friend/lab partner while he was absolutely filthy, but here they were doing just that. Whatever line Keith thought he was crossing was effectively destroyed as Lance kissed back. Lance's hands knew where they wanted to go; one fixed itself on Keith's shoulder while the other fastened itself in Keith's hair. Keith felt like he was burning up, his longing and desire to just be with Lance lighting him up. They traded kisses for what felt like an eternity, each one feeling more eager than the last, until Lance's fingers touched a sensitive bruise on Keith's head. Keith inhaled sharply, and Lance pulled away a little.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just sore."

Lance nodded thoughtfully, and his tongue licked at his own lips before grimacing.

"God, you taste like dirt."

Keith laughed at that, feeling lighter than ever. "Way to ruin the mood."

"I value being clean, Keith. Just because I kissed you doesn't mean I want to you to be muddy every time I kiss you."

"Could have fooled me," said Keith, smiling at the prospect of kissing Lance in the future.

"I-"

"Lance, get out of the bathroom right now so Keith can shower," came the sharp voice of Lance's mother. Both boys froze, and Lance was the first to snap out of it. He untangled himself from Keith, flush fixed to his face.

"Right, yeah. I know, Mama," called Lance before standing. Keith looked down at himself sitting in a pool of dirty water and glanced back up at Lance with a nod. "I'll leave you to it then," he said, despite making no move to exit the bathroom.

"Don't forget my spare clothes," Keith said, mouth still tingling from the kiss. There were words he wanted to say, things he ached to do, but Lance's mother was right outside the bathroom door and the thought of kissing Lance, boyfriend or not, in front of Mrs. McClain or not made him squeamish.

"I won't," Lance was saying, shifting his weight nervously. He seemed to have more to say as well. "Just stay and clean up. We can always talk after, right?"

"Sure."

"Lance," came his mother's voice again before she rapped sharply on the door and peeked in, "I'm coming in."

"You've got to say that before you open the door, Mama," protested Lance but he was quickly hushed.

"You should be out of here. The boy needs to clean up," Lance's mother turned her eyes on him, her expression shifting from scolding to kind. "How are you, Keith?"

"I'll be fine, Mrs. McClain. Thank you. I'm sorry that I'm intruding so late at night."

"You have to take better care of yourself," she said. "Look at you now! You're all covered in mud and bruises. Those are going to hurt in the morning, you know, and a beautiful boy such as yourself surely has better things to do than nurse bruises."

"They hurt a bit now," Keith said, "but I'll be fine. Thank you. I'll try to take better care of myself."

Mrs. McClain smiled affectionately at him and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Lance indignant squawk. "Are you kidding me? I practically said the same thing but, when my mom says it, you agree immediately!?"

"He's a smart boy too," Lance's mother was grinning now, and she looked so much like Lance with her brown skin and playful smile that Keith was left grinning with her, "and of course he would be. Lance, you ought to stop distracting your friend so he can wash up." She focused on Keith again. "There are ice packs downstairs for when you're done, Keith."

"Thank you, Mrs. McClain."

"Of course, dear. You'll be staying tonight?"

"I-"

"I've already called your father to let him know you were over."

Keith was not surprised by the relief that overtook him. "Thank you."

"So many 'thank you's," she said kindly. "You know that you're welcome here whenever you'd like. We all love you very much, some more than others."

"Yeah." Keith's eyes drifted to Lance whose face still burned with colour. "I know."

"Okay, I'm leaving," announced Lance loudly. He ushered his mother out of the bathroom. "Bye Keith."

"I'll see you later," said Keith with promise. Lance had a hand on the door knob.

"Later," Lance agreed and playfully blew Keith a kiss before shutting the door. "Be careful in the shower. Don't slip," he added from the hallway and Keith chuckled quietly to himself. Despite sitting in a small puddle of muddy water and covered in bruises, he was happier than he had been in a long time. And he'd never felt more at home.