"Fuck!" followed by a loud bang was what Lance heard as he was walking back to his room.

He raised an eyebrow at the sound coming from his teammate's bunk across from his own. He could just go back to his room and pretend he hadn't heard anything, but Lance was concerned. It wasn't in him to just not care.

"Keith…?" he called with a knock on his door. "Everything alright in there?"

"No!" came the muffled response from behind the door. "I mean – yes, I'm fine!"

Lance quirked his eyebrow again. "You don't exactly sound fine," Lance replied.

"Go away Lance," Keith practically hissed from the other side.

That was enough for him. Lance raised his palm to the censor on the doors and they slid apart easily. The room was dark, save for some emergency lights by the bathroom door. Lance looked over to the bed where Keith sat, one leg propped up with the other on the floor. There was glass shattered on the floor.

"Hey man," Lance said, stepping forward. "What happened?"

"I told you to go away," Keith said in a quiet voice. He didn't tell Lance to leave or turn away. But his back was to the other boy.

As Lance approached, he could see that Keith was nursing his right hand with his left. Lance tried to make eye contact with Keith under his hair, but Keith didn't look up. "Can I see your hand?" he asked.

Keith made no motion to pull away, so Lance took that to at least mean it wasn't a no. He reached out and pulled Keith's hands away from his body. He had a sharp intake of breath.

It wasn't the blood that had made Lance react that way. No…. It was the gnarled purple look of Keith's hand. His fingers stretched out at odd angles and bruising littered them.

Keith retracted his hand into his chest. "I know; it's awful."

"No," Lance said, calmer now. "I didn't mean it like that. It just looks painful. Have you gotten it checked out since…?" He let the question hang in the air.

"This happens sometimes," Keith said quietly. "I don't think it'll ever be the same."

Lance was quiet for a moment. "You haven't told anyone."

Keith shook his head. "The Blade of Marmora don't believe in the whole 'no man gets left behind' thing. If they knew…."

Lance put it together. "You wouldn't get to be a Blade anymore."

Keith nodded.

"Hang on," Lance said, standing up. He walked out of the room, saying "Be right back."

A few minutes later, Lance reappeared with an ice pack and bandages in hand. He came back to sit on the bed next to Keith, holding out his hand. Keith eyed it for a moment before giving his hand over to Lance.

Lance carefully took his hand and slowly pulled out the shards of glass. Then it occurred to him. "What did you break?" he asked.

"Dropped," Keith clarified. "It's hard to hold things sometimes."

Lance nodded but didn't press him.

Keith sighed. "It was a picture of my dad."

Lance stopped working on Keith's hand for a moment to look up at him. "I'm sorry." was all Lance could manage. He had an entire family back in Cuba waiting for him. How was he supposed to understand someone whose father died and had only recently been reunited with his mother? Even Shiro was gone now.

"He was a fireman," Keith said. "He died when I was still a kid. I guess Shiro is the only family I've had for a long time."

Lance was stunned that Keith was talking about this, but he didn't say anything for fear of making Keith stop.

"Firemen don't have partners or anything, but they do have someone watch their back on a job," he continued. "The Blade of Marmora isn't like that. The mission comes above all else. If you die on the job, you knew what you were getting yourself into."

"And you don't want that anymore," Lance figured.

Keith sighed. "Now that I've met my mom again, and I'm here with the team… I don't want to lose that."

"You don't have to," Lance said quickly. "In fact, you never missed anything for us, at least." Lance said with a chuckle.

Keith shook his head. "I guess not," he conceded.

Lance realized that he had finished bandaging Keith's hand but was still holding it in his own. He swallowed thickly before reaching for the icepack and held it on Keith's hand. He got some more bandages and wrapped it to stay in place.

Keith reached up and stretched out his hand, testing the weight. He smirked, only with the very edge of his lips, but it was enough to make Lance smile.

"Let me get this cleaned up for you," he said, getting off the bed and bending over the broken glass on the floor.

"Lance, it's fine. I'll get it later."

"No, I don't want you to ruin my handiwork," he said, collecting the shards carefully into a bag. He picked up the picture and set it aside on the bed, then looked up.

Keith was looking down from the bed, watching Lance work when their eyes met. Lance was gaping at him ever so slightly.

"Lance," Keith breathed his name, seemingly struggling with the effort.

The said boy raised his eyebrows at the on sitting over him. "I just wanted…." He left the thought hanging in the air. The intensity with which Keith was rooting him to the spot now was enough to make Lance bite his bottom lip. Keith's hair was disheveled, Lance guess from his earlier frustration and tearing at it. He wanted so badly to reach out and smooth it down, but Keith was still watching him. As usual, Lance couldn't read the other's expression, so he just waited rather impatiently.

Then Keith did something that took Lance's breath away. With his uninjured hand, he reached out and cupped Lance cheek in it, pulling him closer. Lance dropped the bag of glass he was holding and leaned into Keith's touch, mesmerized by his stare.

They were close enough now that Keith rested his forehead onto Lance's, his hand the only thing between them, blocking his now-closed eyes from Lance's view. He wanted to push them out of the way but even his breathing was still now.

Their noses brushed each other's for only the briefest of moments. Then Lance noticed; Keith was crying. That was enough to give Lance the semblance to reach out and brush the hair away from Keith's face first and then the tears with a gentle finger. Keith's breathing was uneven as it blew in Lance's face and he shivered from the proximity. But he wanted to do more to help him. "It's alright," he whispered, reaching his hand up to Keith's shoulder to squeeze it. But it wasn't enough. Then he slid his hand up and through Keith's hair, resting it on his head.

Keith finally opened his eyes, and he locked Lance in place with his gaze. Without warning, he closed his eyes and the distance between them.

Fire. Keith's lips on Lance's own were burning. He was rough on him, and Lance let out a noise of shock at the suddenness of it all. But he didn't want whatever Keith was doing to stop.

Lance practically melted into Keith's touch as the other boy ran his free hand from Lance's arm up to his shoulder and then cradled his neck. Lance let himself be beckoned by Keith's touch, and never losing contact with his lips, he raised himself up onto the bed.

Big mistake.

Keith was on him in an instant. He practically pounced onto Lance's chest, making Lance groan with air forced from his lungs. But he still reached up and wrapped his arms around him as Keith let himself go. He was kissing Lance's neck and biting on his ear before he could stop himself. And God, Lance hadn't known what heaven felt like until now. He let small noises escape him before realizing his error.

Keith had been holding himself up on Lance with his hands, and Lance was sure he was hurting. So Lance pressed Keith close to himself and flipped Keith onto his back with relative ease, resting his head on his own pillow. They were both breathless when they pulled apart to look at each other before it was Lance's turn to make Keith happy for once in his life.