Keith scratched behind his ear as he approached the elevator. As he walked, in barefeet and nothing but swim shorts, he tiredly rubbed his eyes. He needed to relax, he knew he did, so he was forcing himself not to go to the training deck and instead the pool. There, he could still work out his muscles but not get beaten around. A win-win.
As he waited for said elevator to arrive, he felt the heat of another presence behind him. Turning, he saw Lance, hands behind his head, in a similar outfit as he.
"Hey! Don't copy me!" Lance cried, frowning at an exasperated Keith.
"I couldn't've known you were going to the pool, moron." Keith uttered, chagrined as he walked into the elevator. Lance huffed but followed.
"You going to the pool too?" Lance asked unenthusiastically. Keith snorted at the stupidity of the statement.
"No, Lance, I'm going to clean my lion. In nothing but swim trunks." He rolled his eyes. Lance narrowed his eyes, imagining what that would look like. On the side of his face opposite to Keith, he cracked a smirk. He would look pretty ridiculous, washing something so huge, only able to wash a little bit of it at a time. Soap in his hair, body rubbing against the wet metal-
Lance stopped, confused at the icy heat wrapping itself around his hips. Geez, he sounded like those hot girls who would clean cars in nothing but bikinis. Yeah, that's it. He thought rather dumbly, expecting a similar icy wave of heat to flux in at the thought of those girls. Yet all he could imagine was Keith, skin slick, spread on the hood of a car, hair sticking to his neck…
He shook himself, smacking the sides of his face. Keith gave him an exasperated side eye before looking forward again, grabbing the ends of the towel around his head.
Man, I hate that bastard, Lance nodded, smirking. Yeah. He hated that bastard. He looked at Keith as they ascended.
"I hate you." He said with too much gusto to be genuine.
"Mk." Keith responded, refusing to rise to the bait. It had become a joke between them, albeit a joke with only a sliver of an original emotion, but it was still fun.
"Keith, I hate you." Lance whined, wanting a response. Keith rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, asking for the end. Lance released a high pitched whine, waiting for his rival to respond.
"GOD you're annoying." Keith muttered. "예수! (yesu), shut up." Lance apparently didn't hear him, continuing to proclaim his hatred.
"I hate-"
"Oh my God why are you alive."
"You. Hey, Keith, guess what-"
"Lance,"
"-ate you, pure, unaltered hatred-"
"I want you to die." Keith deadpanned, staring at the Latino boy. Lance paused, and just as he was to reply, the elevator stopped dead.
"Wha-" Lance started, turning around as the auxiliary light went on, bathing them in a dim azure illumination. Keith turned from the button counsel, looking across the small room to the pilot. His back was turned to him, looking up at the ceiling for a hatch. Despite himself, Keith felt blood pool gently under his cheeks. They way the light cut across Lance's back muscles, creating dark shadows, where he could dip his fingers, sliding his pale hands to rest on the soft fat on his hips, supported by hard muscle. The way the light moved, it almost looked as if he had scratches on his back, coloring him in persian blue.
The image was broken by the clatter of a ceiling tile as it fell to the ground.
"Heh, lo conseguí." Lance exclaimed, pulling himself through the hole. Keith stood for a sec, trying to erase the image from his head. He thought about Red, because surely having those thoughts in context to his lion would shake him of them. Surprisingly, it worked, and he felt the warmth leave him, but the sense that something was coming wouldn't leave. Something that involved…
He pulled himself through, standing on top of the elevator with Lance. Just as he laid eyes on the slightly taller teen, there was a creak. Both of them looked dumbly at the elevator as it released a high pitched scream. Panic entered both eyes, blowing away the unnecessary thoughts. They looked around, trying to find handholds, but there weren't any. Keith stumbled as the elevator dropped a notch. He fell backward, slamming into the corridor. His breath escaped him, towel falling to his shoulders as he gasped for breath. Lance was suddenly in front of him, close to him, grabbing his wrists and putting them above his head. Keith wasn't of the mind to blush as he finally felt air rush back into his lungs. He gasped, pulling air in. The elevator groaned, stuttering to a stop. Lance's hands were still on his wrist, his concerned face only six inches away from his. Keith, panting, looked back into his eyes.
"Uh." Lance squeaked, releasing Keith's wrists. Keith, rubbed his wrists, trying to dispel the tingly heat from them, but it wouldn't leave. Suddenly, light ripped their little cocoon of darkness away, blinding them.
"Uh, guys, what're you doing on the top of the elevator?" Pidge's voice sent ripples of relief down Lance's spine.
"The lights went out! The elevator was making weird noises!" Lance shouted. Keith could practically feel Pidge's disappointment coming through the speaker in the elevator below.
"This is why I told you to read the castle's catalogue! The lights turned off because the elevator was unbalanced- probably from the shock of the last battle we had- and needed to recalibrate. The movements were it locking its anchors into the wall so that if the electromagnetic current were interrup-"
"Yeah, yeah okay. I knew that!" Lance laughed, pulling at the towel around his neck.
"You're a moron." Keith cried, dropping back down into the elevator.
"He's right." Pidge commented. "Now get off the elevator's roof. It won't unlock until you do."
Once inside the elevator, Lance rounded on Keith, who had crossed his arms and was leaning against the wall, exhaustion evident. Lance narrowed his eyes, refusing to give mercy to this- this- damn. Uh, he paused, unable to think of an insult, poop head. He cringed at the lameness, but it's not like he said it outloud, so his pride was preserved.
"Hey, how am I the moron?! You were just as fooled!" Lance griped.
"I, at least, didn't act like I knew what was happening." Keith responded loftily, eyes closed. The elevator removed it's anchors with sharp, scraping clips, and again the ascended. Pidge seemed to have left the conversation without preamble, leaving the two irritated souls together. No words filled the space until they arrived at the pool.
Nothing was said for a solid minute before Lance cried,
"Damn Altean weirdness!"
The pool.
It was on the ceiling.
…
How even.
"That's weird." Keith said, too tire to question it. He dropped his towel, reaching into his pocket to pull out a hair tie. Lance looked around, following him. He stopped- Keith, Keith was-
With a final twist, he had pulled back most of his hair into a small ponytail, leaving only his short bangs to get in his eyes. He pulled the hair tight before scouring for a way to get into the pool. He walked to deep end, inspecting the dimensions and the floor.
Lance was still standing at the entrance, a dumb look on his face and maybe a slight trail of steam escaping his orifices.
Keith looked down, spying a circle on the ground. He stepped on it, the blue stone underneath lighting up to his touch and shooting him into the pool. He inverted himself as he went, landing feet first with a splash. Without looking down at the comatose Lance, he swum to the shallow end, above the Latino.
If he weren't on an alien ship in alien space fighting and saving aliens, Lance would've thought he died and went to some strange limbo. Because this was bizarre. It was also really cool, but bizarre. And it didn't help- not one freaking bit- went Keith swam over top of him. He could see the water swivel and glide over his arms and back, and when he turned to float on his back, Lance was struck with how beautiful he was. Surrounding by ridiculously blue glass like liquid, light filtering in past him, creating contrast. He looked like a naiad, surrounded by the ethereal glow of his world. Which made no sense, because wasn't Lance supposed to be the water type? Yet, as he stared at his rival, teammate, grudging friend, he couldn't help but want to watch this forever.
Keith breathed in and out, soothed by the waters around him. It felt like a soft, warm, weightless blanket. He didn't even care about his hair anymore. He reached back, eyes closed, pulling the hair tie free. He shook his head, letting it fan out around him. This was truly relaxing. He thought he might've heard a noise, like a squeak?, but he didn't bother moving.
Eeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhh what am I doinggggggggggg, Lance thought in alarm. Keith had taken his hair down, and now he looked even more ethereal then he had a right to be. Lance looked around, practically hearing the rip as his eyes tore themselves from Keith. Finding a information ring, he kicked it, waiting for the counsel to rise. Allura had Coran install these all around the ships so that the Paladins might not need their hands held when finding things that hadn't been mentioned before. Pulling up the information, Lance skimmed through it, where one section stuck out;
This liquid is not water, but rather Fluorocarbons, sometimes referred to as perfluorocarbons or PFCs. They are, strictly speaking, organofluorine compounds with the formula CxFy, i.e. they contain only carbon and fluorine, yet are more heavily oxygenated then blood.
Lance, brow quirked, read through the information, skimming over the technical words until one stood out.
Liquid breathing.
He clicked on the link, hoping that it was what he thought it was, before a smile practically split his face open as he read through it.
It is perfectly safe, but the transition to and from liquid breathing can be rough. Use these micropumps, attach to the area around the diaphragm (on either side), to stimulate the proper respiratory responses.
Four one inch devices were popped his hand. He placed two just under his ribs, right and left, before skipping to the crystal and throwing himself into the wat-fluorocarbon.
He could feel the pumps tingle through his skin, forming and attaching temporary neurons to communicate new purpose, unwritten in human mind, to the respiratory system. He sprinted across the pool, giving the pumps to a surprised Keith and quickly explaining what they were before plunging under the water.
He coughed three times, his lungs screaming, before he breathed in the liquid. He gasped, because he could actually breathe. In fact, he felt even more energized, healthier, breathing here. Everything felt heightened. He looked up, eyes clearing up as the pumps sent signal to create water lenses over his once stinging eyes. It was weird, but it felt- not natural, but like he should be here all the time. Keith was still staring at the pumps in apprehension. Lance grinned, holding his breath before breaking the surface. His new water lense make everything blurry, but he didn't care. He scooped the devices out of Keith's hands and pressed them to his skin. He then promptly slammed his face into the fluoroca-water-rbon (I'm just calling it water, Lance thought in the background) and took a gulp of breath before looking back at the confused Keith. He felt downright giddy.
Keith watched his friend beam at him as he sunk below the water, which the expression and action in on itself amusing him, before he felt the tingle in his lungs and the ache to stick his head underwater. Brow furrowed, mind skeptical, he sunk below the water. He help his breath, but as soon as he passed the thirty second mark, his body forced the wind out of him. He gasped, pulling in the liquid before adjusting. He stared, wide eyed, at the stupidly grinning Lance. He understood why. His tired body felt energized, and warm, and he loved it. He pushed himself into the deep end, sitting at the bottom with weightlessness that gave him a special joy. Lance followed, his lithe form cutting through the water like he was meant for it. He swum over Keith, doing somersaults and twists and pulling at Keith's heart in ways he didn't know how to respond to. He smiled, tender, watching. He wanted to pull him down next to him, to look at his face speckled with freckles and the ripple of light, to trace his cheek and pulled him close.
Had he any air in his lungs, he would've sputtered out a trail of bubbles once he caught up with his thoughts. He kicked off the bottom, not knowing what do with himself, so he just hung there, watching Lance watch him.
Ba-dump.
Lance's heart clenched.
Ba-ba-dump.
Keith's heart sputtered.
They hung there, both uncertain, both just realizing the meaning of the images they've been seeing in each other, both aware of the feelings they had now, but not aware of how the other felt. They drifted closer, shifting from vertical to horizontal as they slowly descended again to the bottom of the deep, deep pool.
The micropumps detected an elevation in heart rate, in respiratory rate. They connected more neurons.
Keith was captured by the ocean that was Lance's eyes.
Lance wanted to run his fingers through his flowing forest of hair.
They drifted closer.
The water in their lungs enhancing every sensation, every thought with clarity only good breath can bring.
There were no auxiliary fantasies now, but only the magical reality before them.
They were entranced, breathing in the same water the other exhaled, before Keith brought up a shaking hand, movements calmed by water, and followed through with the original thought. He placed it on Lance's cheek, watching the boy melt into his touch, eyes falling half mast as he conducted a similar gesture, hand burying itself in his black silk. A soft rush left his lungs, blowing back his hair with his current. Keith rubbed his jaw, finger tips brushing up against his neck, thumb touching the corner of his mouth. His eyes dropped to Lance's lips, partly open as he breathed, and the Korean boy was overtaken by the desire to drink. Lance watched his naiad as he moved forward, pulling him closer. It felt like but an eternity before Keith captured Lance's lips, until he responded.
Ba-dump, ba-dump, badumpbadumpbadumpbampbampbapabap. Their hearts blurred together as their chests brushed, as Lance's hands found themselves buried in his hair and Keith's hands glided down to rest on his hips, eliciting goose bumps. Lance groaned into the kiss as they rolled together in the weightlessness of the water. They twined legs, not wanting to drift apart ever again, gripping each other like the thing giving them breath was the other. Lance pushed his tongue into his Keith, who responded with unpracticed flourish. It was rough, lips brushing against each other and teeth, as the environment heated and the water that flowed into their lungs heated them from the inside out. It only increased the desire, the want, the need.
They fell back to the bottom, Lance above him, as they broke apart, painting. Keith looked up, eyes half lidded, feeling the hot ice drop to his gut like a meteor. He pulled Lance down by the scruff of his neck, locking lips yet again. Lance kissed from the side of his mouth down his neck, drinking in water while he gave him a hickey. Keith gasped, hands curling into his shoulders Lance felt a tidal wave of sensation erupt at response to the pain.
"Keith," he panted into the liquid, words barely understood yet when Keith responded with a smoky "Lance", making them both more interested. A hot arousal was growing, circulating between them, creating their own pocket of warmth. A moan left Lance's mouth as they hit each other just right, Keith pushing back into the touch. His hands, firmly grasping Lance's hips, pulled him closer to his own hips, needing to feel. Lance retreated from his neck, looking down at the compromised teen, memorizing without effort the feeling of his eyes. He returned to Keith's mouth, kissing with even more passion. Keith's hands dropped, grabbing his ass. Lance pushed into it, the two floating so that Keith was again on top.
Lance's back was pressed against the rough ground, arching off to get closer, always closer to Keith. Keith rubbed his ass, tugging unconsciously at the material as he pressed his front into Lance's.
"Ah," Lance panted, loving the way Keith was kneading his ass. Keith kissed his throat, making his mark on the junction between Lance's shoulder and neck. He gave gentle bite, Lance down right yelling at the sensation. They pulled away, faces red and drawn so into the other they didn't notice the beeping from their micropumps. They pulled in more and more breath, admiring what they did to the other, memorizing the beauty, the heat, the growing something between them. Keith smiled, rubbing his fingers along Lance's temple in a gesture that could only be affection. Lance smiled back, grabbing his hand and holding it to his mouth. The heat dissipated at they stared longingly, lovingly, at the other. Keith bent down, delivering a chaste kiss to Lance's lips before sitting back.
Looking down, he noticed the beeping on their devices. Lance looked too, vaguely remembering something about a time limit. He pointed to the surface, the two kicking upward until they breached. The micropumps gave a long beep before severing their neuron connections, dissolving the water lense, and allowing air to return to their lungs.
After thoroughly hacking up a lung, they rested their heads on the poolside. They felt invigorated, yet drained. Full, yet empty, physically and emotionally.
Keith looked over at Lance, his heart tightening with questions he wouldn't let form. This was good. This is what he needs. He doesn't need to question when, or how, or why. Lance looked over as well, and the thoughtless smile that responded to his was enough to know that he didn't need to worry.
They spent another two hours in the pool, talking, laughing, reshaping the foundation by which their emotions were founded. No longer just upon friendship, but substantiated by something more then physical attraction, founded on understanding. It took them about five whole minutes to figure out how to get out of the pool, and once showered and dry, the two walked to a deck they knew no one would find them.
Sitting on a bench next to a panoramic view of the stars, Keith sat between Lance's legs, leaning against his chest. Lance pressed a kiss to the top of his head, playing with his hair. Keith sighed in content, the two falling asleep in each others embrace at the witness of the stars.
I google translated the Korean, which is supposedly 'Jesus', but we all know how bad google translate is. I translated the Spanish myself, so I hope it's correct- Spanish is my second language. 'Lo conseguí' means 'I got it' or at least I hope it does lol. Please correct me if I'm wrong.
Also! Fluorocarbon is real and information was taken from Wikipedia with only a few editions by me. The second section on Liquid breathing, which is also real, was embellished for the story.
First fic in a while! Anyway, hope it was enjoyed ;).
