Lance awoke with a kink in his neck and a frog in his throat. He was sweaty—his fever must've broken while he slept. He wanted to groan, but he knew it wouldn't be worth the effort. He turned his head to the side and came face to face with Keith's drooling, sleeping head. If his body felt any less heavy, he would've jumped right out of bed. As it were, he shifted closer to the wall to gaze at his crush. Keith looked so...peaceful when he slept. His brow was unfurrowed, there was no pout or irritation in his expression. Lance found himself wishing Keith would sleep on so Lance could keep watching him. This was bad, wasn't it.

Lance's heart must've beat too loudly or something, because suddenly Keith was stirring and cracking open an eye. Keith blinked once, twice, before bolting upright in bed. Lance reached out a hand and caught him around the waist before he could fall right onto the floor.

Keith steadied himself and pulled the blanket off, rubbing a hand over his face and brushing back his hair. "Shit, I didn't even realize when we fell asleep."

"Same." Lance managed his first word of the day. Man, his throat hurt like hell.

"Do you remember the last thing we watched?"

Lance racked his brain. "Eh, we'll figure it out later."

Keith nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Other than his still recovering, pining heart? "Better than yesterday," he said hoarsely.

Keith brushed Lance's sweaty bangs off his forehead. And before Lance could fully appreciate the sensation of Keith's fingers on his skin, Keith leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

Keith...kissed him.

Realization seemed to hit Keith moments after it hit Lance. He leaned back, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, it's an old thing my dad used to do when waking me up; I wasn't even thinking about it, I'm really sorry!"

"It's cool bro," Lance said, proud when his voice remained steady. It wasn't cool?! How could it be when his crush had just given him a tender forehead kiss then played it off like it was no big deal?

"Your fever seems down," Keith said, getting out of bed. "But you need to keep up your strength."

Lance agreed and scooted to the edge of the bed to get up when Keith's voice stopped him.

"You should rest though. I'll bring you food here."

As appealing as breakfast in bed with Keith sounded, Lance shook his head. "Nah, I'll just feel worse cooped up here."

Keith looked skeptical but helped Lance out of bed.

"I can get up myself, Mullethead." The bickering was just instinct at this point, a reflex of some sort.

"Yeah okay; you're teetering, fool."

"I am perfectly still," Lance insisted. "You and the room are shaking. Must be turbulence."

"There's no turbulence in spa— You know what? Let's just get you to the kitchen." One hand on Lance's shoulder, Keith reached behind Lance and picked the blanket up off the bed. He wrapped it around Lance's shoulders, making sure it was tucked securely before leading the way out of the room.

Lance noticed how empty and quiet the corridors were and figured his contagion must be keeping everyone well enough away. He glanced at Keith with slight worry; would Galra blood really protect his human side from this virus?

The kitchen was empty too, and Lance sat down at the table. The mice skittered and approached at his arrival, waiting by his hands to be fed from his spoon.

Keith tubed out two bowls of food goo and carried them to the table, sitting down in his usual seat next to Lance.

Usually not too picky of an eater—at least not in space—Lance felt ready to retch at the smell of the goo. He really hated being sick.

Keith noticed Lance's grimace. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have an appetite."

Keith's face turned contemplative, and Lance gazed fondly at the expression. "I know," Keith announced, getting up to rummage in the cabinets. "I saw Hunk put it…. Here!" He turned around and walked back to Lance triumphantly with a questionable-looking bottle of blue sauce in one hand.

"What is that?"

"Hot sauce!"

Lance stared blankly. Then, "It's blue," he observed.

Keith shrugged. "It's something new he made from some plants he picked up on Warugal."

Lance eyed the bottle with suspicion.

"Stop looking like that! Hunk made it."

"And I would never not trust Hunk's cooking. But he has never fed me that, and I can't help but think there's a reason why."

The corners of Keith's mouth lifted teasingly. "Maybe he thought you couldn't take the heat."

Lance scoffed, but felt a smirk growing on his own face in response. "If anyone can't take the heat, it's you."

"Wanna bet?"

"You're on!"

One regrettable bowl of spicy food goo later, Lance felt like puking. And he hadn't even won the bet. Keith was freaking invincible; it wasn't fair.

While Lance sat moping on his chair, Keith got up and started rummaging in the cabinets again.

Lance wanted to stay miffed a while longer, but his curiosity got the better of him. He turned to watch Keith and finally asked, "Now what're you doing?"

"Space salt," he muttered, searching. Finding the little bottle, he filled a cup with water and poured some of the salt into it, stirring until it dissolved. He brought it over to Lance.

"That's salt? The hot sauce was one thing but you're bugging out if you think I'm gonna drink—"

"You don't drink it!" Keith cut in, horrified. "You gargle with it. How do you not know this? What did your parents give you back home when you got sick?"

"Um, medicine? What kind of struggle remedy?"

"Well we are in space."

Lance stared at the murky, swirling hot salt water in the cup. "Fair enough." He picked up the cup and stood, still wrapped in his blanket. He made his way to the sink and took a sip. It tasted awful, but he pulled through, gargling for a second before spitting it out again. On his next go he took a larger gulp and held it for a bit longer. Keith stood by watching him to make sure he finished the cup. By the time he was done, all the up-and-down movement of his head caught up with him, and he felt like puking again. But when he gulped he realized his throat was already feeling less inflamed. He watched Keith put away the dishes with a small smile, wondering where the loner had picked up these little tidbits. Catching himself looking, he wiped the smile off his face and turned away before Keith could see.