Warning: This fic contains explicit sexual content, unhealthy coping mechanisms, infedelity (sort of), and graffic depictions of depression! Read at your own risk!

1

As a whole Lance was not very fond of vampires. In fact, if he was asked just a few years ago, he would've said they were parasitical filth that should be slaughtered with extreme prejudice. Now, however… his views had shifted to something a bit more open-minded. He supposed his change in attitude towards the bloodsuckers might have had something to do with the fact that he was currently, sort of… maybe dating one.

Just maybe.

To be honest, Lance isn't even sure how it happened. It just...did. He had been kidnapped by hunters two years ago and Keith had been shoved into the same cage as he, Lance in a moment of pity, had curled his wolf body atop the vampire to shield him from the rising sun. They escaped together the following night and had never really drifted apart - despite Keith being the biggest asshole Lance had ever met.

By all accounts they shouldn't be able to even stand being in the same room together; werewolves and vampires historically did not get along, after all. But since Keith had practically moved in with him they had rarely got into anything more than playful bickering. Their relationship is not official, Keith apparently did not find it necessary to label them, and Lance was too much of a coward to ever bring it up. It was sort of… an unspoken rule between them. But Keith stayed in his home, cooked him food (despite not being able to eat actual food, he was a fantastic cook), they would watch crappy rom-coms every Saturday night, Keith would play with Lance's more feral side during every full moon, the sex was fantastic, and Lance had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Keith was a snuggler. So, despite there not being an official label for them, Lance thought of Keith as his boyfriend, at least in his mind.

Dating a vampire sort of sucked though, pun very much intended.

Keith needed to feed at least twice a month, and Lance was more often than not on the menu. Not that he particularly minded, Keith usually fed when Lance was too busy lost in pleasure to even really notice. Despite Lance's amped up healing factor thanks to his lycanthropy, he would be groggy for a few days after every feeding and dizzy spells and migraines had become a common occurrence for Lance (not that he would ever tell Keith about it).

That wasn't actually mentioning the fact that they couldn't do fun coupley things during the day; Lance wasn't sure exactly what would happen if Keith were to be in direct sunlight and he hadn't really gotten around to asking. Judging by the swat he would get if he teased Keith about it, he did not sparkle. Which sucked (ha!).

The couple were more often than not on opposite sleeping schedules as well, Lance worked at a magic shop in town with his two best friends Hunk and Pidge during the day, and Keith would disappear for days at a time to go do super secret vampire stuff so the two would go days without catching a glimpse of each other.

It… did not help Lance's self-esteem at all.

Especially now, Lance thought angrily as he slammed the fridge door shut, a sandwich in his mouth. Something big was going down with his boyfriend's undead buddies (they called themselves the Blade of Marijuana, or something stupid like that), they needed Keith's help and as a consequence, he had been gone for just over a week now.

Lance hated it when Keith left for long bouts of time. He would come home looking haggard and exhausted, and when Lance had offered his help (he was a powerful supernatural being, contrary to popular belief), Keith had been practically frothing at the mouth in his adamant denial of Lance's offer. That had been the worst fight they had ever had, Lance believing Keith thought him incompetent, and Keith practically hysterical with the thought of Lance being in danger. It had ended with Lance getting so frustrated that he left the room, slamming the door to his bedroom door, locking the windows and doors and sunk to the floor and cried.

Keith was gone when he woke up the next morning.

Did Keith really think him that weak? Lance wondered bitterly as he settled himself down on a stool to eat his dinner. He was one of the most dangerous creatures in this world, arguably stronger than a vampire (especially on a full moon), and Keith didn't believe he would be able to handle himself? The very thought made his teeth grind and his eyes change from blue to a glowing amber.

His chest constricted with pain and Lance let out a long slow breath, setting down his food onto the plate and shoving it away from him. He ran a hand through his hair and tried his best to will the hurt away. Yesterday night had been a full moon, he had not spent one alone in the two years that he and Keith were together. His body battered and bruised from his feral side taking out its pain and loneliness onto himself, his hands wrapped tightly in bandages from where he had bitten his own paws in his frustration.

Despite the two of them being in a relationship for almost two years now, Lance knew next to nothing about Keith's past. It never particularly bothered him until now, however. After all, he knew Keith liked it when Lance ran his fingers through his hair, knew that he liked to sit in the shadows and carefully watch the sunrise, knew that Keith would slide across the linoleum whenever he had socks on, he knew a million and one things about his lover and yet he also knew nothing.

It was… frustrating.

He knew Keith had had a lover before him named Shiro. He knew that Shiro had been murdered almost a decade ago. He knew that Keith's pain was still an open wound, despite Lance's best efforts to heal him. When the two had met, Keith was heartsick and angry at the world, hellbent on avenging his dead lover.

At first, Keith was almost as hostile to Lance as he was to Keith. It had been Lance who had softened first, surprisingly, and had been determined at trying to make the grumpy bloodsucker happy. He suffered through the vicious barbs and broke down every wall he faced and Lance liked to think that he was helping, at least a little bit.

But at times like this, when the two hadn't even had a full interaction in weeks, and Keith was off on a dangerous mission whilst Lance waited at home, it brought his ever prevalent insecurities to the surface.

The part of him that is more beast than man wished to walk out of his den and howl for his packmate, a wolf was not meant to be alone and he felt unease at the very prospect of it. Without meaning to, a low whine escaped him. Lance cringed at himself, burying his face into his bandaged hands in embarrassment. He sunk lower into his seat, slumping against the cool granite countertop.

His home was small but homey, pictures and paintings littered the lightly painted walls, shelves stacked high with books hung between pictures, dozens of throw blankets tossed over the large plush couch. Soft light carpet gave way to even lighter linoleum to the entryway of the kitchen, large windows let in so much natural light that Lance rarely had to use a light switch.

Outside the sun had just set, warm light from above him cast the kitchen in a calming glow. His body was lethargic from the full moon the night before and Lance planned on heading to bed after he finished eating, slightly disappointed that it was a Friday and he could not go to work tomorrow to keep his mind busy.

Suddenly something pinged on his radar and his head shot up from the table, eyes focused on the door like an alert guard dog. The crunch of gravel was deliberately loud and a moment of silence fell before an almost hesitant knock sounded on his door. He was at the entryway in a second, wrenching the door open to stare at Keith, who looked exhausted and bedraggled.

"Lance, I'm so‒"

"I'm sorry."

They both paused before a grin spread across Lance's face and Keith took a step into their home and wrapped Lance in a tight embrace, kicking the door closed gently behind him. "You okay?" the werewolf whispered, not willing to let go just yet as he basked in his lover's unique scent.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." Keith whispered back, burying his face into Lance's shoulder with a quiet sigh, as if the slightest sudden noise would shatter the moment. "It's just… I missed you." the vampire admitted.

"Missed you too." he said in a tone that didn't suggest he had spent the last week moping.

With a boldness that was uncharacteristic of him, Lance reached up and grabbed Keith by the collar of his shirt and tugged him closer for a stubborn kiss. Pressing his lips firmly and somewhat childishly against Keith's, wrapping his arms around the vampire's neck to keep him in place.

Keith made a sound of amusement, the fondness that shown in his violet eyes made Lance's heart soar, and brought his arm around to tug Lance flush against him. With skill and finesse that Lance envied, the vampire turned the crude kiss into a slow sensual one that made his toes curl and his bright blue eyes slide shut. His body sagged into Keith's hold, vaguely thinking that if he were shifted his tail would be wagging.

Lance made a small keening sound in the back of his throat, barely noticing Keith maneuvering them through the house and backing them up to sit down onto the soft couch, not so subtly drawing the werewolf onto his lap. He did not fight it, simply submitted himself to the sensation, a shiver rushing down his spine as Keith's cool tongue ran along the seam of his lips, teasing him. Keith's hold on Lance's side felt more possessive than normal, his claws scraping and catching on the fabric of his shirt.

The werewolf jerked in surprise when his lover's tongue slyly pushed passed his lips. Long fingers running along the knobs of his spine to grasp his hair tightly, just on the verge of pain. Lance breathed deeply through his nose, leaning forward into Keith's embrace, returning the kiss fiercely. Carding his fingers through liquid ebony hair, he could not stop the purr that vibrated in his chest, drawing a dazed chuckle from the vampire under him.

Before he knew what was happening, Lance was on his back. A throw pillow lodged uncomfortably under his shoulders but the werewolf was far too distracted to do anything about it because Keith's moist, cool, lips were pressed against his naked shoulder. "Keith…"

"I missed you," Keith breathed, Lance made a choking noise in response. The vampire pulled back for a moment to admire the delightful treat that lay prone beneath him. He had rid his werewolf of his shirt without him even noticing, leaving his torso bare for Keith to caress and worship to his heart's content.

Lance's body truly was a piece of art, toned muscle rippled and shifted under his beautifully tanned skin, a layer of sweat beginning to glisten on his forehead, strands of bright brown hair streaked with strips of sun-bleached hair stuck to his skin. Keith eyed the elegant curve of his shoulder where his mark rested permanently from where the vampire often fed from his lover, the sight sent a jolt of heat through Keith and he vowed that no one but him would be graced with it. He would not allow it.

The werewolf squirmed restlessly as Keith's teeth sank into the place where his shoulder met his throat, his fingers running along Lance's torso, a whisper of a touch lingering on a sensitive nipple. His other hand traveled downwards as he began to feed, shoving his lover's basketball shorts out of the way so that he could palm Lance's tan thigh. He had to fight back a smirk when the younger man arched into his touch with a whimper, careful not to tug on his skin as he drank drop after drop.

Lance's blood tasted like how Keith assumed the sun felt. It was addicting, the life essence of his lover set his body aflame and his more monstrous features coming to the surface. He felt as if he could walk into the sunlight without getting burned, that he could fight an entire army and win. He was not sure what it was about Lance's blood, but it was intoxicating.

Keith's clawed fingers brush just shy of where Lance desperately wants him, and Lance whines high in his throat, writhes a little, tries to get Keith to do something, anything, but Keith growls and pins his shoulders in a bruising grip. Keith has a thing about making it last. Which certainly has its appeal, but -

"Keith, please, please please please -" His voice is half mumbled and slurred and comes out more embarrassing than sexy but it is currently eleven at night and Lance has had a long day and is actually very tired. Keith unlatches from his neck, licks the wound with slow deliberate strokes before kissing him on the mouth - ew, the metallic taste of blood - as if he is trying to consume him whole. Lance makes a high pitched keen and screws up his face, making Keith snort as he mouths at the werewolf's chin with just a whisper of his fangs.

Keith does that too; likes to mess with him, tease him, play with him until Lance finally uses his words. But Lance is in no particular mood to be played with and makes a growling noise that rumbles deep in his chest, snapping his teeth at Keith and trying to shove him off in frustration. Keith merely makes a noise that is not quite a laugh, just a soft eh heh that might as well have been a declaration of love from what it does to Lance's heart, before pushing up enough to flip Lance over onto his stomach. The werewolf snarls at the manhandling but his protests are quickly halted when Keith bites down on the nape of his neck, effectively making him go limp, face pressed into the cushions. He traverses the length of his back with sharp nails and even sharper teeth, stinging and scraping. The pads of his fingers ghost across his skin like the knobs of his spine and the contours of his muscles are braille, some ancient language that Keith is determined to memorize. He lingers on the raised wrinkled skin of the large burn that stretches across Lance's entire upper back, placing kisses across the scar that he cannot even feel before moving on.

He squirms and wriggles and arches his body into the touch until Keith finally reaches his ass, runs a hand along the strong muscle of his thigh. He trails his fingers along his crack, circling his opening as if he is still not sure if he wants to give Lance what he wants just yet. Lance is about to reach back and do it himself when Keith finally pushes his index finger all the way to the second knuckle. He makes a strangled sound and rocks his hips, pressing his hard length into the cushions when Keith just sits there and does nothing, just watches him with glowing violet eyes. Lance would be embarrassed if he wasn't so turned on and begins to beg anew. "Keith, c'mon baby, please, please please, I need it, Keith-"

The vampire shushes him, pushing in a second finger, and then a third, reaches above him for the end table, fumbles with the drawer before pulling out the lube and Lance buries his face deeper into the cushions as Keith pulls out to slick himself, quivering and wanting.

Keith pins him down and fucks him, biting down harshly at the nape of his neck to keep him still and pliant as the vampire wrecks him. Lance loves it like this, loves it when he can barely think coherently and being taken. He gets a strange thrill out of being used like this, a fact that Keith had picked up on quickly and had been more than happy to accommodate his preferences to their love making.

Keith keeps them there for a little while after they finish, draping his entire weight over Lance's back, face tucked into Lance's neck, just breathing. Lance thinks that this is almost more enjoyable than the sex.

"You're cleaning up the mess," Lance mumbles after ten comfortably silent minutes, Keith groans into his skin but otherwise doesn't complain as he helps Lance up and the two walk to the shower to clean up.

They sleep until late morning, Lance would've gladly stayed asleep cause waking up is a truly horrible affair and he is not shy to make his discomfort known. He is vaguely thankful that it is Saturday so he does not have to go to work because Lance knows he would not be able to leave the house, Keith took far more blood than he usually did and it left Lance with a throbbing headache and heavy eyelids. He whines softly and buries his face into Keith's chest, whom seems perfectly healthy and fine. Stupid vampires.

The windows of his room are covered in black out screens, but pale Christmas lights stretch across his walls that give the room a soft glow. Pictures, paintings, and posters are pinned to the walls, along with shelves of books and the surfaces of his drawers covered in odd knick knacks he has picked up over the years, including a ragged old stuffed dog toy lovingly named Oink slumped on the bedside table. His room has a crowded but homey feel and is his favorite room in his house.

He dozes in and out of sleep for an hour, at one point Keith gets out of bed but is back quickly with a glass of water and a handful of pain pills that the brunette takes without question before going back to sleep. The only reason he even wakes up at all before noon is because he wakes to Keith's hands pressing on his hips and teeth nibbling on his throat.

"Really?" Lance says incredulously, he isn't objecting, merely amazed and somewhat annoyed that Keith can somehow find the energy to get it up when Lance doesn't think he will be able to move for another week. He feels the vampire smile against his throat, the fucker, murmuring "You are awake." into the soft skin behind his ear, like that is supposed to mean something.

Oh yeah, Keith has a thing for morning sex. Lance supposes he has a thing for Keith's thing but resolutely decides he is not going to help him with that thing because he is tired goddamnit. He hears Keith attempt to suppress a laugh and realizes with a jolt that he may have said that last part aloud.

"Fine with me, babe. Just lay back, I'll take care of you." Keith says before nipping at his collar bone with just a hint of his canines and Lance definitely does not squeak at that, cause he is a dangerous and powerful monster of the night. Obviously.

He lets out a content sigh as he rolls over and curls himself overtop Lance, resting both elbows on either side of his head and a thigh pressed between the darker skinned boy's legs. Keith pauses for a moment to stare at Lance with glowing violet eyes, they are both already naked from the shower they had together hours ago, and Keith does not waste a moment as he bows his head to kiss Lance with a growl, curling a hand to card into his hair. Lance rests his hands across the other's back, running the pads of his fingers along the pale knobs of the vampire's spine.

"Ah- Keith!" Lance hisses out between clenched teeth as the other moves his attention from his lips to his throat, sucked dark bruises into the soft skin, the whisper of razor sharp fangs sting against his pulse point and Lance arches into the touch despite the soreness of his body.

"You are beautiful, Lance." Keith says into the skin of his collar bone, gaze flicking up to gaze at him from under long eyelashes.

That is something that Lance never expected; he spent his entire life comparing himself to others and it has left him with a shattered self esteem, but when Keith looks at him like that...it makes him feel important, like he is somehow worthy of something. Keith makes him feel sexy, which is something Lance never thought he was capable of feeling, and in that moment Lance is unbelievably happy and cannot help the dopey smile from stretching across his face. He is overcome with affection in that moment when Keith pulls back from his throat to look at him with glowing violet eyes, before reaching forward and placing a sweet chaste kiss to the tip of Lance's nose.

"Y-you too," Lance manages to stutter out with a sheepish grin, and it was true, he doesn't think there is anyone quite like Keith in the world and Lance considers himself infinitely lucky for him to be his.

Keith hums before refocusing his attention back on Lance's skin, resting his weight on one arm so that the other can run up and down his side. He makes a noise like a purr when Keith finally reaches down to grasp his length in hand, blue eyes flashing amber before he can stop himself. His lycanthropy is something he knows many vampires detest, and although Keith has said again and again that he could care less, Lance still tries his best to hide that part of him, just in case. The vampire surges up to kiss him, curling the hand that supports his weight above Lance's head to hold him steady as he practically devours his mouth.

He arches into Keith's touch with a high pitched keen as Keith squeezes him just right, his claws digging into his shoulders as he tries to pull his lover impossibly closer. Keith "K-Keith, c'mon," he whines, aching for something more.

"Patience," Keith breathes into his ear, his grip on Lance's length tightening for just a moment before he goes back to leisurely stroking him, as if he has all the time in the world. Lance hates and loves when Keith is in this type of mood, where he wants to stretch it out for as long as he can, to make Lance desperate and writhing.

"I'll show you patience!" Lance growls, a hint of a snarl rumbling in his chest. As he grapples Keith's hips with his thighs and rotates his body, tilting them over until he sits comfortably on Keith's lap and the vampire is on his back staring up at him with a grin. His hair is wild and his eyes glow with mirth and Lance is so unbelievably happy in that moment it almost hurts.

"I thought you weren't going to help?" Keith says cheekily.

"Changed my mind," Lance tells him in a low voice as he reaches for the bottle of lube in the bedside drawer and begins to run a hand across the deep scar on his boyfriend's shoulder with his free hand. He reaches behind and begins to finger himself open with lube slicked fingers, screwing up his face in concentration and studiously ignoring the flush of embarrassment that stretches across his face. He still is not comfortable pleasuring himself in front of his lover, something about it makes him feel awkward and strange, but he has been trying to step out of his comfort zones and it helps a little that Keith freaking loves it, if the strangled sounds he is making are any indication.

"Lance, baby, baby." Keith strained as Lance's free hand trailed down his body to take his length in hand and stroke him hard and fast to the rhythm of his fingers inside of him. The brunette licked his lips in concentration, adding a second digit and then a third. Below him Keith grips the sheets with clawed hands and bares his teeth with a loud hiss as Lance rotates his wrist just right and his climax hits him fast and unexpected, he makes no noise except a hitch of breath and a long and content exhale.

"Dude…" Lance snickers after a long silent moment, pulling his fingers out and sitting back on his boyfriend's thighs to grin with fondness down at a flustered him.

"Sorry," Keith breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly but there is a sheepish smile on his face and an embarrassed flush to his cheeks.

"Eh, it's not your fault - my handjobs are legendary!" Lance grins, pushing his hair back and making it stick up with lube. Gross.

"Sure man, keep telling yourself that," Keith says but sits up to give him a deep kiss anyway, wrapping an arm around the small of his back and pulls him close, sneaking his other hand between them to jerk Lance off lazily. The werewolf hums against Keith's lips, letting out a hiss of air. They are not so much as kissing as sharing the same hair, their foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. Lance's skin shines with sweat and strands of hair stick to his forehead as his stomach pools with rising heat. Vampires can't sweat but Keith is disheveled and debauched, his long hair a birds nest and his naked skin littered with red welts courtesy of Lance's claws.

The werewolf comes with an airy "Keith…" whistling past his teeth as he slumps against his boyfriend who presses kisses to his throat with a loving smile on his face. The raven haired boy slowly begins to lean back until they are laying back down on the bed, holding Lance fastidiously in place with his strong arms.

Lance is almost back asleep when Keith whispers, "We should get up; do you want me to make you waffles?"

"Waffles…" Is all Lance says, his voice slurred and happy.

Keith snickers, slapping the brunette's naked thigh gently, "C'mon. Up up up."

"Nooooo."

"Keith, c'mon, you're gonna miss it!" Lance shouted from where he was sitting on the couch, soft throw blanket draped over his shoulders. On the large tv across the room a history documentary began to play.

"Coming, coming," Keith called back, moments later the sound of silverware jangling and cupboards banging followed by the vampire striding into the living room with a bowl of steaming beef stew in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other. Keith had this strange need to feed Lance whenever he could, he suspected it was a silent show of thanks for letting him feed on Lance, but the werewolf never really questioned it, never complaining about food that belonged more in a gourmet restaurant than his shabby kitchen. Keith had practically became his personal dietician since the two began to date, making Lance healthy meals and making him exercise; Lance suspected it made his blood taste better.

"Has it started yet?" the vampire asked, passing the food to Lance and setting the glass on a coaster on the coffee table in front of the couch before settling next to him.

"Nah, you're good." he assured, blowing cool air onto a spoonful of stew before gingerly placing it in his mouth.

"What's this one about?"

"The Roaring Twenties," Lance answered around a mouthful of food.

Keith scoffed "Roaring Twenties? More like Boring Twenties, seriously Lance, it wasn't nearly as cool as they make it sound."

"I think you are just being a wet blanket." Lance grinned. This was one of his favorite things to do with Keith, the vampire would never fail to point out flaws in the history shows and it was the easiest way for Lance to get Keith to tell him stories about his life.

Keith groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Literally no one said that!"

Lance snickered into his stew, "Didn't you have a car then?"

"No, Shiro got a car, I wasn't interested in learning to-" Keith abruptly cut himself off and became silent. Lance looked at him worriedly, biting his lip and staring back down at his bowl, gut churning.

Lance had never met Shiro, and Keith had never truly talked about him besides slip ups like now. From what Lance had managed to gather he had been amazing and it hurt him to know he could do nothing to ease Keith's pain, merely be there and offer silent comfort. Keith was not interested in talking about it and the wound of his previous lover's death was still open and oozing.

But Keith had become happier since moving in with Lance, he was certain. The bitter tang of sadness had been reduced significantly from his lover's scent and he smiled more than ever. Lance was not naive to think that he was moving on, but he liked to think that he helped, at least a little.

Without a word the werewolf Stretched across his boyfriend's lap and watched the tv, Keith squeezed his hand once and that was all the reassurance that he needed. It took a good twenty minutes before Keith finally began to grumble and scoff at inaccuracies and a smile finally stretched across Lance's face.

There was a sudden, hurried, knock on the door, Lance's head shot up from Keith's lap like an alert guard dog as Keith turned his head over the back of the couch to gaze inquisitively towards the entryway. "I'll get it," Lance said around a yawn, rolling off the couch and making his way down the hall that led to the front door. Unlocking the door, Lance yanked it open, taking a step back as he craned his neck to take in the intimidating figure that filled the doorframe.

"Kolivan?" he sputtered incredulously. Lance didn't think he had ever had a full conversation with the vampire, he knows he was one of Keith's friends' in ye olden days, and that he held a firm dislike towards werewolves, so Lance had kept his distance. The man looked more haggard than Lance had ever seen him, pale white hair in disarray and out of breath, like he had ran here. He probably did, Lance thought gravely, after a moment.

"Where is Keith, wolf?" Ah, yes. The oh so original nickname was still in place, he sees.

Keith is next to him in a second, putting a hand on his bony shoulder and gently pushing him towards the side, not so subtly placing himself between Lance and the Blade leader. The first time they had met, Kolivan had shoved a luxite blade into Lance's shoulder; and although the two were pals, or whatever, Keith seemed to be holding more of a grudge than Lance was. It had been more Lance's fault than anything, he had been playing a game of Werewolf Hide 'n Go Seek™ with Keith, and Kolivan had shown up right as Lance tackled his vampire boyfriend to the ground with dirty paws and, well… yeah.

"Greetings, old friend." Keith said in that weird formal tone he took whenever he talked with any of his undead buddies.

"Keith," the taller vamp panted, "we've found him. We found Shiro."

Dead silence.

Keith stops breathing. And Lance? Lance has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing - something bitter and hysterical plants itself in his gut like a cold stone and he hates himself for it.

The thing is, though… Keith had no one. Lance had found him, broken and heartsore, and had slowly and painstakingly glued him back together until he was something that resembled okay. Lance had done that. He worked through all of the stinging barbs Keith, in his shattered state, had thrown at him, and climbed over all of his walls and - and it felt good. To be needed. To be someone's pillar to lean on. And Lance - the selfish prick that he was - didn't want Keith to leave him.

But, apparently, now his husband, who was supposed to have been dead for the past eight years was somehow alive, and Lance couldn't breathe-

"Keith," he chokes out after a few more suffocating moments pass, and thinks that it is a wonder his voice does not crack. Lance feels like he is on the verge of a panic attack, but so is Keith, and Keith always, always, always, comes first so he fights through his hysteria and says "Keith, say something."

More silence.

"I…" Keith finally whispers, eyes distant and far away. "I-I need…" he says, as if he needs permission, his shoulders trembling. "I need to go."

Lance thinks for sure that his heart shatters, it is hard to breath and he does not know how he manages to choke out a strangled "Yeah." He takes a deep breath, Keith deserves to be happy, and Lance is not about to ruin that for him. "It's okay."

But oh god it isn't. Lance feels his legs tremble and thinks hysterically that everything was fine two minutes ago, they were about to watch old history documentaries, and Keith was going to rant about how inaccurate they were. Afterwards they were going to go outside and play in the moonlight and curl up together on the forest floor after they had tired themselves out. It was their Thursday tradition. But in just a moment Keith was leaving and Lance wasn't sure if he was coming back.

Keith is gone in a flash and it feels like the final nail in the coffin for Lance and he does not know how he is still standing. He is vaguely aware of Kolivan hesitating, the werewolf glances up at the taller man with watery eyes.

"Do not ruin his chance of happiness, wolf." Kolivan says, his tone is much more gentle than Lance is used to but his words are like silver bullets aimed directly at his heart. "Keith Kogane has suffered enough." But Lance knows that, and he wasn't even planning on stopping his lover (ex-lover? He does not know yet). Before Lance can say this Kolivan is gone too. Lance crumbles to the ground, holding a hand to his mouth as he swallows bile and stares at the dark trees where he had last seen Keith and finally lets the tears fall.