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Keith groaned and dropped his sword, his shoulder screaming. He’d thought maybe today he could finally get some practice done, but his range of motion was so compromised he could barely lift his sword, much less swing it.
It had been days since he’d come out of the healing pod, his arm miraculously reattached after being torn almost completely off mid-battle. He’d thought the pods were infallible, but the extreme muscle soreness that followed his recovery suggested otherwise. Allura had told him it was partially due to the rate of regeneration—the new muscle tissue and the old knitting together in a thousand places, causing massive knots to form, not to mention severe nerve pain.
If it had just been simple pain Keith would have pushed through it. He’d done that a thousand times before; what was a little discomfort compared with the fate of the universe? But the stiffness was such that he could hardly function; on a good day he could barely do up his jeans.
Every day brought the threat of attack, and Keith hated knowing he wouldn’t be able help his friends. So for once he actually listened to Coran’s orders in the hopes that it would heal even a fraction sooner.
He’d been given a salve that smelled like cut grass and told to massage it in for at least 20 minutes, twice a day. Which would have been fine if Keith could actually reach the affected muscles.
It had become depressingly clear almost immediately that he would not be able to do it on his own.
Shiro had of course offered to do it for him, and Keith had been grateful for his brother’s help. He wasn’t used to being touched, and something about a massage felt uncomfortably intimate to Keith. Unfortunately, the cold metal of Shiro’s prosthetic was perfectly ill-suited to digging into tender muscle, and Keith had called it quits pretty quickly. Pidge’s small fingers lacked the strength to really do much good, and besides, she had seemed just as uncomfortable about the whole thing as Keith. Coran and Allura both tried to help, but neither of them seemed to really grasp their own super-strength and the fragility of humans—the third time he had almost had his collarbone snapped Keith had run to beg Hunk for his help.
Of course Hunk had obliged. His massages were even good— incredibly painful, but ultimately effective at working out the knots. But they came with a catch—the same catch as everyone else’s.
The suggestions.
“Y’know buddy, I really think you should ask Lance for help,” Hunk said for the thousandth time. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s really super good at it, trust me. This one time I was so relaxed—”
“I know, Hunk,” Keith forced out as he gritted his teeth against Hunk’s onslaught, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Sorry. I just—I know.” Keith sighed. The truth was, he did feel bad monopolising Hunk’s time twice a day—but he was uncomfortable enough without it being that annoying asshole behind him. If Keith asked for Lance’s help he’d never live it down, and what was so relaxing about that jerk running his mouth for twenty minutes anyway?
Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t know Lance was good.
He was a naturally tactile person, and the paladins had long since become used to Lance’s need for physical affection. Pretty soon it had become commonplace for him to be found draped over Coran as he navigated, cuddled up with Hunk on the couch during downtime, or throwing his long legs into Shiro’s lap after training.
At some point Lance had started giving out shoulder rubs here and there. No one had thought much of it until it was their turn to receive one.
Apparently they were amazing.
Keith still remembered the first time he’d witnessed one of these famous massages in action. Allura had been detailing their training plan for the day, in full Princess mode, when Lance had absentmindedly brought his hands up to her shoulders.
“And then one of you will—ohh...” The way her stern expression had melted off her face—her always-perfect posture relaxing and her eyes slipping closed—was burned into Keith’s mind. He’d never seen anyone soften like that before.
After a long pause Shiro had said “Princess…?” and she had simply shushed him. The idea that Lance’s fingers had the ability to switch Allura off was almost beyond belief.
Pretty soon the other paladins had begun trading their chores for massages. It became normal to see him giving Allura a much-deserved footrub, working on a knot in Pidge’s neck while she coded with her eyes shut, soothing the phantom pain from Shiro’s residual limb, or walking on Hunk’s back in exchange for alien desserts.
He had never offered to do Keith, though, and Keith had never asked.
Unfortunately, this led to him being the natural choice to help with Keith’s predicament, and now Keith wasn’t hearing the end of it. When he’d emerged from the healing pod and Coran had explained the situation in front of the gathered crew Keith had made it clear he didn’t want Lance’s help, and though his mouth had twisted strangely Lance had loudly agreed.
Picking up his bayard with his left hand Keith slouched his way to the deserted common area, collapsing into a couch with a suppressed moan. His shoulder was especially bad today—he really shouldn’t have been trying to train so soon.
But he was tired— tired of being in pain, tired of being left handed, tired of being useless.
So in a moment of weakness he’d gone to the training deck and now he was reaping the reward.
Shoving his good hand down the back of his shirt Keith tried to work some of the soreness from the joint. It bent his arm unnaturally, and he could barely reach the source of the pain, but he had to do something. Scowling with the effort Keith didn’t hear the door slide open, but it was impossible to miss Lance’s sigh when he caught sight of Keith.
Keith braced himself for the tirade, but for a moment Lance merely watched him silently before sighing again.
Keith resolutely ignored him, but Lance simply walked up to stand behind him on the couch.
“Come on,” he huffed, batting at Keith’s hand.
Keith hesitated, but he was so sore, and for once the air was quiet between them, nothing to interrupt the hum of the castle and whirl of the stars outside.
So he moved his hand. Lance’s hands settled on his shoulders, and—
Holy shit.
The air rushed audibly from Keith’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut. Lance’s thumbs dug into the muscle with just the right amount of pressure, his palms smoothing across Keith’s trapezius like salvation. Tingling relief spread through his tissue as Lance worked, his hands warm through the material of Keith’s shirt.
Lance’s thumbs moved higher, to the cords of his neck. Suddenly a muscle shifted beneath the pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Keith’s back, and he couldn’t repress a moan.
They both froze at the sound, loud in the still air of the common room. For a moment there was a tense quiet, the two boys gripped by the non-existent echo, and then Lance clicked his tongue.
“Where’s your ointment?” he demanded, coming around to stare down at where Keith was slumped, boneless, on the couch.
It took Keith a while to find his voice. “There’s some in the med bay?” he replied at length, confused.
Lance merely nodded, dragging Keith up by his good arm and marching him out the door.
Keith stumbled along without complaint, his brain and knees turned to jelly under Lance’s hands.
When they arrived at the infirmary Keith sunk onto the end of one of the beds, directing Lance to the tube of Altean Deep Heat with a yawn.
Keith’s eyes, which had drifted closed at some point, snapped open when he felt the mattress dip behind him. He heard the sound of lotion being squeezed into Lance’s palm and tensed, unsure.
“Come on, take off your shirt,” said Lance, an eyeroll clear in his tone.
Keith hesitated for another moment before tugging his shirt off, skin prickling in the cool castle air. He braced himself for the cold of the ointment, but when Lance’s hands finally made contact with his back he found it had been pre-warmed between Lance’s palms. This did nothing to prevent the roll of goosebumps across his flesh, however.
Swallowing down his nerves Keith tried to relax again, but what had seemed so easy in the common room felt strangely intimate in the half-lit ward. Keith had expected Lance would chatter, but the silence of space remained undisturbed.
Lance began with slow, firm swipes of his palms, as if he could smooth the knots right out of Keith’s back. Almost immediately Keith felt himself relax, vaguely embarrassed by how quickly he’d been undone. Soon he felt warm and pliant under Lance’s hands, his pain and stress melting away beneath the warm strokes.
Then Lance began using his thumbs, pinpointing pressure in all the right places, and Keith couldn’t help but groan again. He felt Lance’s fingers stutter at the sound, but this time couldn’t muster up any embarrassment.
Little noises slipped from Keith’s throat throughout the massage, his rigid self-control dissolving as his thoughts grew foggier. Lance’s fingers relaxed not only his sore shoulder, but the surrounding area; Keith’s neck and the base of his skull, his good shoulder and upper back all got attention from Lance’s strong fingers. The tightness that had accumulated there over the last few painful nights sloughed away like sand before the tide.
Keith had no idea how long he sat there, drifting in a world of sensation, listening to Lance’s quiet breaths. Eventually, though, Lance’s massage wound down and came to an end.
“There, uh, there you go, buddy.” Lance’s voice was loud and awkward after the lengthy silence. “Was that good? Um, what am I saying, of course it was, it was one of my massages. You should have just come to me in the first place! I would’ve, uh… I would’ve helped…”
Keith ignored Lance’s ramblings in favour of a long stretch. Swinging his arm in a gentle circle he was shocked to find he’d regained almost his full range of motion. All his muscles felt pleasantly loose and the pain was barely a dull ache deep in his shoulder.
Turning to Lance in shock Keith didn’t notice the faint flush on his cheeks.
“I can move it again, "he said in surprise. “It barely hurts at all.”
Lance’s eyes widened and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words.
Covering his momentary lapse, Lance scoffed. “Of course, I am a master at this. With me on the case you’ll be better in no time, you’ll see.”
Keith frowned, but suppressed his instinct to retort. Lance was—in an arrogant, roundabout sort of way—offering to continue helping him.
Rolling his shoulder Keith marvelled again at how much better it felt. At this rate he’d be back to normal within a week.
With a sigh Keith swallowed his pride and glanced away. “I—yeah. I’m, uh, in your hands, I guess.” Turning away to tug his shirt on Keith missed Lance’s look of surprise melt into a soft grin.
***
The next day found Keith back at the training deck, doing some gentle drills for the first time in what felt like months. It hurt, and he was still stiff, but this morning was the least painful one yet.
He kept the drills up for as long as he dared, but ended up sipping juice on the floor depressingly quickly.
Keith’s brow furrowed as he thought about finding Lance. He could already picture his satisfied smirk. Had it really felt good enough to be worth crawling back to him like that?
On the other hand, Keith couldn’t deny how he’d actually managed to get his clothes on without Shiro’s help that morning.
Keith was still caught up in this internal argument when the door to the training deck slid open.
“I thought I might find you here, "came an annoyingly familiar voice. Tossing his empty juice pouch with a sigh Keith turned to look up at Lance, his insouciant swagger doing nothing to allay Keith’s concerns.
“You ready for another session with my magic fingers?” Lance asked smugly, wiggling the offending digits in Keith’s face. Keith simply glared and turned away, settling into a cross-legged stance and straightening his spine by way of response. “Is that a yes?” Lance teased.
“Yes,” Keith growled. “Get on with it.”
“Do you have the stuff?”
“You mean the cream?” Keith rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t Lance ever just— stop? “No. I can put it on myself, later.”
“Mmm, okay, but you’re not gonna get the highest quality massage that way,” Lance declared as he flopped down behind Keith. His obnoxiously long legs didn’t fit in the space between them, so Keith found himself bracketed by Lance’s half-extended knees. He opened his mouth to complain—couldn’t Lance even sit like a normal person?—but Lance’s hands were on him before he got the words out, shutting him up depressingly effectively.
Resigned to his fate Keith closed his eyes, determined to enjoy himself as much as possible under the circumstances.
Pretty quickly he felt his whole body loosen. It actually felt really nice being close to someone like this—even someone as annoying as Lance “Magic Fingers” Espiñosa. He’d noticed it with Hunk too; a rush of oxytocin in response to the human contact. Keith had never been a physical person, and after being kicked out of the Garrison his interaction with other humans had become limited to grocery store clerks and the occasional cop.
But just because he could rationalise it didn’t make it any less strange to him. If he’d never been injured Keith wondered if he’d have even realised he was so touch-starved—and if he had, if he’d ever have acted on it.
Unlike Hunk, Lance’s massages started off slow, relaxing him by degrees and warming his stiff shoulders up. Keith never would have guessed there was so much to back rubs, but as he felt a big knot release under the steady pressure he was inwardly grateful for Lance’s expertise.
“Mmph, there," he directed as Lance hit an especially tight spot.
“Here?”
“Yeah…” Keith sighed, leaning back into Lance’s hands.
“That good?”
“A bit harder…” Keith instructed, unaware that his voice had grown low and rough in response to the pressure. Lance’s breath hitched in the following quiet.
“ Ahem.” A throat cleared pointedly from the door of the training deck. The two boys jumped nearly a foot in the air, whipping around to glare at the intruder as one.
It was Pidge, an unimpressed expression on her face as she regarded the two. “Sorry to interrupt," she drawled, eyes flicking between them.
Keith felt his face heat up as he realised what she must be seeing. He was nestled between Lance’s thighs, the collar of his shirt pushed way down at the back, sighing what had been, now that he thought about it, rather salacious instructions.
“Pidge—”
“We were just—I was just helping Keith with his shoulder!” cried Lance, as loud as ever. “This idiot seemed to think training this soon was a good idea and everyone knows I’m the best person at back rubs in this solar system, so—”
“ Lance,” Pidge interrupted his rambling. “I don’t care. I just came for my bayard. You two can go back to canoodling in a second—”
“ Pidge! ”
“Hey!”
“—but next time I suggest you get your gay on somewhere a little more private. ” Pidge grumped as she scooped up her weapon, muttering “save us all an eyeful” under her breath on her way out.
The door slid shut behind her, leaving the two other paladins in a thick silence.
Lance cleared his throat. “You about good there buddy?”
“Yeah. Uh, thanks,” Keith said awkwardly.
“No prob, no prob. So, I’m gonna get going, grab a quick snack before paladin training. I think Allura has something with the drones planned for today, so I wanna be… fully energised… Um. So, I’ll meet you in your room after dinner?”
Keith blinked. “You’re gonna go again?”
Lance looked away, shifting uncomfortably. “Look, if I’m gonna help I’m not gonna half-ass it, okay? I’ll do it as much as you need. Twice a day, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Keith couldn’t hide his surprise. He had thought he’d have to beg for Lance’s help, but for someone who didn’t like him Lance was being exceptionally accommodating. “Um, thanks. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Lance said without looking back at him.
There was another pause, filled with awkward shuffling, and then Lance threw himself to his feet.
“Right! Okay. See you in a bit, mullet." He threw some finger guns at him with a forced grin as he backed out of the training room doors, leaving Keith alone.
He blinked after the other paladin for a second, not for the first time completely unable to parse Lance’s behaviour.
Shaking his head he got to his feet, looking forward to participating in training again today.
***
A few hours later Keith was sitting on his bed cleaning his knife when he heard the knock. With a grunt he pushed himself to his feet to let Lance in, bare feet quiet as he padded across the floor.
He’d just come back from a long hot shower that had barely helped his injured shoulder, and as the door slid open to reveal Lance’s flushed cheeks and damp skin it became clear he had done the same. His dark hair clung to cheekbones, highlighting the boy’s striking bone structure. His sleep shirt clung wetly to his broad shoulders and a smell like ripe fruit swirled around him, a stronger version of his usual sweet scent.
Keith’s study of the other paladin fortunately went unnoticed, as Lance seemed taken aback at the sight of him.
He regarded Keith’s bare chest for a moment before grinning.
“I see you’re ready for me,” he winked suggestively, earning himself an eyeroll from Keith.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, moving aside to let the brunette in.
Lance immediately sat down on the bed, gesturing for Keith to sit on the floor between his knees. Huffing a breath Keith closed the door and crossed the room to rummage through his desk. It wasn’t until he’d found the tube of ointment and made it back to Lance’s side that it hit him—Lance was here. In his room. With the door closed, with Keith wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.
Suddenly the thought of Lance touching him became almost too much to bear. Keith felt his face heat up and quickly turned and dropped to the ground before Lance could see him blushing.
You’re being stupid, he told himself. It’s just Lance.
In the quiet of the room Keith could perfectly hear Lance unscrew the cream’s cap, the slick sounds of him warming it up in his hands, the rustle of Lance’s clothing. Squeezing his eyes shut Keith braced himself for Lance’s touch, trying to resist the urge to fidget.
The noises stopped.
The first accidental brush of Lance’s pinkie against his neck caused a wave of goosebumps to stand up along Keith’s arms. Then came the warm, firm slide of his palms, spreading the salve across both shoulders. Keith let out a long, careful breath, forcing himself to relax.
“Um, so,” Keith began, desperate to break the weird tension in the air. “Was Allura picking on you today?”
“You noticed that too?” Lance’s voice was just a little softer under the artificial light of Keith’s bedroom, flowing out warm and comforting like his hands. “After breakfast today she got on my case about being late, again, and I told her I’d had trouble sleeping. Now she seems to think the solution is to work me extra hard so I’ll be more tired at bedtime.”
Keith blinked. Lance had trouble sleeping? Or was that just what he’d told Allura?
“That makes sense,” he offered tentatively.
Lance sighed, sounding uncharacteristically subdued. “Maybe for some people, but it just means I’ll be more sore as I lie awake.”
Keith didn’t know how to respond to this new bit of information. The other boy seemed to realise what he’d given away, changing the focus immediately.
“What about you? You’re never late to breakfast, and I know you train in the middle of the night sometimes, Hunk caught you on his snack runs three times last week. Do you never sleep?”
“Oh. I, uh… I only manage about six hours a night.” Keith’s mouth twisted at the admission, but some part of him felt like he owed Lance a fact about himself in exchange for earlier. Admitting he was a fellow insomniac felt scarily personal, but Keith found he was desperate to preserve this feeling of quiet camaraderie they’d stumbled upon.
Lance was quiet for a moment, absorbing this tidbit about his fellow paladin. “You seem pretty sleepy after these backrubs. Maybe you should try napping after I finish.”
“Um, maybe,” Keith replied, leaning back into Lance’s hands to signal he wanted more pressure. The conversation trailed off, leaving Keith to wonder about the boy behind him. His higher brain functions were rapidly tapering off beneath Lance’s expert grip, but he couldn’t help turning over this little morsel in his mind, worrying at the spot of incongruity like a sore tooth.
It wasn’t like he was surprised Lance had layers. Keith had never been great at reading people, and even worse at getting close to them. At this point he had learned to simply assume he didn’t know someone until proven otherwise.
But it was easy to slip into a pattern of assumptions with Lance. He was so loud and in-your-face, it was hard to remember he was probably more than a loose collection of puns and pick-up lines. He shone so brightly Keith forgot he must have a shadow.
Keith wondered if the reasons behind Lance’s insomnia were anything like his own.
“Fffuck,” Keith hissed out as Lance hit a particularly painful spot.
Lance swallowed audibly. “Sorry.”
“Nah. It’s sort of good.”
“A bit like Hunk’s, huh?” Keith could hear the teasing smile creep back onto Lance’s face.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful and they—unh, yeah, right there—they helped, but I felt like my arm was going to fall off.”
“I know, right? Sometimes he says he feels bad I don’t get back rubs and tries to return the favour, but ugh. No thanks. I’d much rather him repay me with baked goods.” Lance chuckled fondly, his movements slowing down a little as he reminisced.
“He is good at that.”
“Oh my god, right? Do you remember that time he made each of the mice out of jelly?”
They kept up the easy banter—interjected with periods of silence as Keith’s brain melted—for the whole session. Keith was thoroughly surprised they could get along so naturally considering their history. Maybe it was just easier when he couldn’t see that annoyingly expressive face.
It also helped that Lance wasn’t trying to start anything this time—doing this for Keith seemed to have a calming effect on him as well.
When they finally finished up and Keith checked the clock with a stretch he was shocked to realise they’d been here for almost forty five minutes.
He swung around to face Lance, wincing at the sight of him flexing his tired hands.
“Um, you—you didn’t have to do it that long," he said lamely, not sure how to get back to the comfortable dynamic they’d had a moment ago. It was so much harder with those blue eyes looking up at him from his bed.
Lance just shrugged. “It helped, didn’t it?” Getting to his feet he cracked his back in a long stretch of his own, exposing a strip of taut stomach above his pants. Keith busied himself finding a shirt, wrinkling his nose at the way it stuck to his back.
“Um, I’ll see you at breakfast?” Lance asked, prompting Keith to spin back around, finding him already by the door.
“Oh. Um, yeah. We can, maybe, do this again after?” Inwardly Keith winced. Already demanding more? He wasn’t sounding very grateful.
“Of course.” Lance gave him a crooked grin, sliding open the door. “Goodnight then.”
“Um, thank you!” Keith blurted, feeling like an idiot. “For... yeah. I think I’m going to, uh, try to sleep now.”
Lance’s grin softened and he gave Keith a silly little salute. “Awesome. Night!”
“Night.”
The door slid closed and Keith collapsed on the bed, burying his face in his cool pillow.
Despite the warm weight in his bones it took him a long time to fall asleep that night.
***
Keith awoke feeling groggy but well-rested. He had actually slept through the night, which more than outweighed his standard long falling-asleep period. He trudged his way through breakfast, noting the bags beneath Lance’s eyes despite his timely arrival, and felt marginally less annoyed at having to sit out the majority of training than the morning before.
Keith met up with Lance a bit before lunch, for once happy to let Lance chat away, offering the occasional comment and even managing to make Lance laugh a few times.
That night Keith sat on his pillow on the floor, his eyes closed as he listened to Lance orate and tried not to be embarrassed by the little sounds he kept making. He felt strangely warm, floating in a world of sensation, listening to Lance’s story with one ear, the cheerful cadence lulling him into a state of zen.
“Oh, I meant to ask, did you sleep better last night?”
Keith’s lashes fluttered as he tried to summon a few threads of concentration together.
“Mmm, it took me a while like usual, but once I was there I slept great. Didn’t wake up once.”
“Huh,” Lance mused. “Maybe next time you should lie down in the bed while I do this and just… go to sleep right after. That might help.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Keith sighed contentedly as Lance moved to his neck. “How’d you get so good at this, anyway?”
“Well, I mean, I kind of like doing it, you know? It’s relaxing. My mother used to get stiff shoulders all the time, especially on days she worked. It helped put the little ones to sleep too. Plus my older sister used to pull muscles playing fútbol all the time.” It sounded like Lance might have rolled his eyes at that part. “She didn’t know when to quit, so I’d rub them for her. Papi used to demand foot rubs from me at the slightest excuse too. And sometimes my abuela would let me help with her back. Sometimes.” Lance let out an amused huff, his voice filled with wistful censure.
There was a moment of quiet, and Keith reflected that he didn’t know almost anything about Lance’s family, important as they were to him. This seemed like a shame—he liked the soft voice Lance used to talk about them.
“Your sister played soccer?” Keith prompted quietly, hoping Lance wouldn’t think he was prying.
“Oh yeah. Catalina was obsessed. Even when she was little. She played centre back and her team won the state finals every other year. There are multiple shelves of our bookcase dedicated to her trophies.”
“Do you play?”
“I was on the swim team, but you better believe every Espiñosa can hold their own in a fútbol match.”
Keith smiled at the image that conjured. “How many siblings do you have, anyway?”
“I have an older sister and brother, a younger sister and brother, and a younger cousin who lives with us.” Lance said warmly.
“That’s… a lot," Keith said lamely, trying to imagine it. Somehow it suited Lance, to be surrounded by people who loved him.
“Yeah, and my grandparents live down the road, and my brother’s kids are over every day after school, and all of us plus some cousins and piblings meet up most Sundays.” Lance laughed at Keith’s incredulous huff. “I know, it can get crazy.”
There was a long pause, and Keith felt himself tense as he realised what was coming.
“So…” Lance seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
Keith prepared for the worst.
“You lived in the desert by yourself for a while…” Keith’s mouth quirked. Lance was dancing around the issue. At least he wasn’t the only one that was uncomfortable. That somehow made things easier.
“Are you asking about my family?” he interrupted Lance’s loud thoughts. “I don’t have any.”
“Oh.” Lance’s reply was quiet and sad, but he didn’t sound surprised. “I’m sorry.”
Keith shrugged, momentarily forgetting the hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay. I have Shiro.”
“And us,” Lance said firmly. “We’re all your family now.”
Keith snorted and told Lance he was a sap, but inside he gathered those words close, and let them warm the hours before he fell asleep.
***
Lance was late to breakfast.
A tense quiet settled over the team as the clock ticked further and further past time. Allura’s fingers began tapping furiously at the seven minute mark, practically wearing a hole in the table by the time Lance stumbled in sixteen minutes after breakfast was supposed to start.
“Sorry I’m late, guys," he said, his jovial tone betrayed by the tightness around his eyes. “Takes a while to look this good every morning, you know? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know, Keith, but—”
“That is enough. ” Allura thrust herself to her feet. “I am sick and tired of you not taking your responsibilities seriously!” Lance made a face that screamed my bad and turned to grin cheekily at Hunk, motions Keith was used to seeing during these morning scoldings.
It was only today that he realised the deflection tactics for what they were, saw the hurt behind Lance’s eyes and the dark shadows beneath them.
But Allura wasn’t done. “This keeps happening over and over again, and I’m sick of your silly excuses! Don’t you understand how important this is? Don’t you understand what will happen if we fail? ”
Something went dead in Lance eyes and Keith heard himself speak.
“You think he doesn’t?”
The entire table turned to stare at him for his uncharacteristic interruption.
“I beg your pardon?” demanded Allura, eyebrows high.
Feeling the weight of his teammates eyes Keith looked down at his goo.
“Lance has family and responsibilities back home that he thinks about every day,” he said. “You really think he isn’t scared of the Galra winning, of them finding Earth?” Keith stabbed his goo with his spoon. “Lance is the most motivated person here.”
The room was silent. Chancing a glance up Keith saw the shocked stares of his teammates and Allura’s pursed lips. Frowning a little as he searched their gazes Keith shifted in his seat.
“What?” he asked defensively. “You guys agree with Allura? You know him better than that, right?”
“Yeah,” Pidge said finally, “but we didn’t think you did.”
Feeling anger spark in his chest Keith scowled. “I don’t know him very well. So why the hell am I the only one saying anything?” This last was directed at Shiro, though he did spare an angry glance for Hunk as well.
This was followed by more silence. Shiro frowned down at his breakfast and Hunk looked away, scratching his neck. Pidge continued to blink suspiciously at him.
Allura and Lance stood at the head of the table staring at him. Allura looked confused, but the angry twist at her mouth hadn’t eased.
Lance’s eyes were wide as he stared at Keith, something unnamable flickering in their azure depths.
Unable to bare all the attention Keith got up to clatter his dishes into the sink, though not loud enough to drown out Allura muttering a low “we’ll talk about this later” at Lance.
Avoiding his teammates—and especially Lance’s—gazes Keith slouched out of the dining hall, feeling angry and embarrassed and not totally sure why.
***
A couple of hours later Keith knocked on Lance’s door, avoiding eye contact cautiously as he brushed past the other boy and tugged off his shirt, planting himself on the bed facing away before he could be asked.
Lance was quiet as he came to sit behind him, his breathing loud in the quiet air—or maybe Keith was just hyper aware of it.
Lance’s fingers were gentle as they soothed the hurt from his muscles. Keith sighed and relaxed, but retained his awareness of the tension between them.
After several quiet minutes Lance’s hands stilled.
Keith tensed.
Lance’s throat clicked as he swallowed. “Thank you," he whispered, voice rough.
Now that they were no longer moving Keith realised Lance’s fingers were trembling. Fighting the urge to still them with his own Keith shrugged.
“I just said what everyone was thinking,” he replied, his voice equally quiet.
“Did you?” Lance said tightly, one of his hands pulling away briefly.
“The team know you take this seriously,” Keith reassured him awkwardly, wishing he was better at comforting his friends.
Lance hesitated, then sighed. “Either way, they didn’t speak up. You did. So… thank you.”
Keith was silent, blinking in the harsh artificial light uncertainly. After a moment Lance punched him in the shoulder and resumed his massage. “Just accept my gratitude, asshole," he admonished, his voice much stronger.
Keith hesitated, then relaxed with a tiny smile. “You’re welcome.”
***
“So, I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous," Keith murmured as he let Lance into his room that night.
Lance just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I was thinking you should lie down on your bed this time. It’s easier for me that way, and you can just go right to sleep when we’re finished. What do you think?”
Keith felt his face warm but simply shrugged, already stripping off his soft sleep shirt. “Sure, if it’s easier," he said, trying for nonchalance.
Lance grinned and grabbed him by his bare shoulders, steering him towards the bed and pushing him down on his stomach. “If your neck gets tired with your head to the side, just put your forehead on the edge of the pillow like—yeah, like that.”
Keith settled in, blowing out a deep breath and forcing his heart to slow, closing his eyes as he allowed Lance to continue arranging his limbs how he wanted them. He was starting to feel a little sleepy already—maybe it was an associated reaction, like Pavlov’s bell. Keith smiled to himself as the bed dipped beside his hip.
They didn’t talk much that day. Whether it was the prone position or Lance’s new angle Keith didn’t know, but either way he was barely holding on to consciousness. Lance started slow as usual, warming Keith’s muscles up, but soon he was digging in his fingers blissfully, his breath sometimes punching out when his did something especially effortful. Occasionally Lance would place his hands flat on two opposing places and lean his full weight on them, flattening Keith out like a spatchcocked chicken. The new position allowed Lance more access to Keith’s lower back, and though it wasn’t exactly close to the damaged area, Keith wasn’t going to complain as he felt knots that had been there for years release under the boy’s fingers. Its was heaven. Even Lance’s constant repositioning couldn’t disturb his bliss.
Floating boneless and mellow Keith had no way of telling how much time had passed. It seemed like only five minutes later Lance was patting him on the shoulder and getting up, murmuring something Keith’s sleep-soaked brain couldn’t parse.
“Mmm?” he mumbled, voice rough.
Lance chuckled delightedly. “Don’t worry, big boy. Hereeeee you go," he grunted, lifting Keith’s hip to tug the blanket out and over him. Keith hummed and rolled on his side to facilitate this, blinking one eye blearily up at the other boy, haloed by his hair in the too-bright room.
“Shh, go back to sleep, it’s fine,” Lance grinned but spoke softly, smoothing the covers into place around Keith.
Keith had never been tucked in before.
Hearing Lance walk to the door and flick out the lights Keith snuggled into his soft pillow and murmured, just loud enough to be heard, “Lance.”
The other boy paused in the doorway. “Yeah?” he whispered.
“I like this.” Keith breathed with his last drop of energy, his whole being glowing with warmth.
There was a moment of silence and Keith felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, but just before the tide pulled him under he heard Lance’s soft reply.
“Me too.”
***
The next day found Keith bouncing his leg impatiently as he waited for Lance to show up.
Breakfast had been pleasant, filled with laughter and good-natured ribbing. Allura had not been there—off performing some urgent task or another. After breakfast he’d helped Pidge with one of her projects until 10:00, the time he and Lance had settled on for morning physiotherapy.
But this time Lance was late.
Feeling restless and unable to explain why Keith decided to clean his room—anything to stop him from checking the clock for the thousandth time.
Finally, at 10:38, Lance strode in without bothering to knock. His face was missing his usual smile, and he didn’t speak as he swiped the cream off Keith’s desk and kicked off his shoes.
“You’re late,” Keith said with a frown, annoyed at himself for his impatience.
All he got was a shrug in reply. Keith was already seated on the bed, so Lance wasted no time throwing himself behind him to get to work.
Keith flinched as cold hands covered in colder ointment were shoved up the back of his shirt. He was just opening his mouth to complain when Lance got to work, and then he needed to grit his teeth against the Hunk-like onslaught.
His pride made him put up with it in silence at first. Keith figured Lance was just having an off day, and would calm down after a few minutes like usual. Firmly ignoring the worried voice that reminded him how chipper Lance at been at breakfast Keith closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping still under the rough strokes. Lance would slack off any minute now.
He didn’t. Several minutes later Keith was still biting back grunts of pain and could no longer deny that something was wrong. Hesitating briefly—because he was, after all, probably the least qualified person to help on the whole ship—he reached back to catch Lance’s hands, not letting go as he shuffled around to face the other boy.
“Are, uh, you okay?” he asked gruffly, not sure how to go about comforting someone when he didn’t even know what the problem was.
Lance avoided his eyes, staring down at where their hands were clasped. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” Keith pressed, trying to read his expression and failing. “I thought I was back with Hunk for a second there.”
Lance glanced at the door, mouth twisting. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry my massage wasn’t good.”
“That’s not—I don’t—” Keith took a deep breath and tried to channel Shiro. “I’m sure it isn’t stupid. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”
Lance’s eyes finally flicked up to his, gazing at him uncertainly through his long lashes. “It is stupid.” He sighed before dropping his eyes again. “But… fine.”
Blowing out a relieved breath Keith gave Lance’s hands a quick squeeze in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
“Allura came to talk with me in the common room today, after breakfast.” Lance began, chewing on his lip as he chose his words with uncharacteristic care. “She… wanted to… apologise, I guess. She said… she didn’t mean to push me that hard. That she… she said that she didn’t realise I wasn’t… strong enough yet.”
His voice cracked on the final phrase and Keith felt his grip on Lance’s hands tighten reflexively.
Lance’s face was pinched and he still wouldn’t meet Keith’s eyes.
“I’m gonna kick Allura’s ass,” Keith said without thinking. How could someone say that to someone they cared about? Imply that they weren’t worthy—that they were weak?
Lance huffed in amusement, but it sounded broken. “She means well. I know… she’s lost everything, you know? The nightmares I have about losing Earth—that’s like, her reality.” Lance tried to pull his hand out of Keith’s grip, but Keith wouldn’t let go.
Nightmares? Keith took in how small Lance looked in that moment, shoulders hunched in and a self-deprecating grimace twisting his fine features. “Then I’m gonna kick Shiro’s ass.” Keith whispered. “And Hunk’s. And Pidge’s. And Coran’s.” Lance was trembling all over now. “Family should make you feel stronger, not weaker. Right?” Lance sucked in a shuddering breath, eyes swimming, and Keith tugged him forward into a hug.
Keith wasn’t usually given to displays of physical affection, but comforting Lance in this way felt like second nature. Lance’s response was immediate—he sank into Keith arms gratefully, burying his head in the crook of Keith’s neck and letting out a shuddering sigh against his skin.
“You know…Shiro is always telling me…that me doing dangerous shit isn’t bravery. That…real bravery is, um, doing something that, that feels almost impossible. That sometimes the bravest thing someone can do is get out of bed in the morning.” Keith swallowed thickly, his heart pounding with the effort of saying things that really mattered. He wasn’t good at emotions. He wasn’t good at relationships. But Lance’s fine tremors has somewhat lessened over the course of his speech, so for once, Keith forced himself to be brave. “By—by that definition, Lance… You’re strong. Stronger than me. Maybe the strongest person here.”
Lance’s harsh breaths stuttered to a halt.
Keith kept holding him awkwardly, hoping he hadn’t made everything worse, feeling raw and exposed and vulnerable. “Y-you know Shiro’s cheesy like that,” Keith joked weakly, smoothing out the wrinkles in Lance’s shirt to give himself something to do. Lance huffed quietly into his neck at this, his breathing returning almost to normal.
After a few more minutes the tension in Lance’s frame had melted away almost completely. Keith’s sigh of relief stirred Lance’s hair, tickling his face, and he became suddenly aware of how close they were. His neck prickled with goosebumps in response to Lance’s breath, the other boy a line of hard warmth down his front. He was all wrapped up in him, every breath filling his nose with his scent.
Keith lifted a hand to press against his own heated cheek and it was enough to stir the other boy. Lance shifted, raising his head and bringing them face to face.
Close enough to kiss.
Keith thought maybe Lance’s cheeks were just a little pink, but it could have been his imagination.
Seeming a little flustered Lance glanced away and back again, but didn’t let go of Keith. Their faces were very close, so close Keith feared Lance would be able to hear his heart pounding. “Um,” Lance whispered. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Keith murmured back after a swallow. His eyes flicked between Lance’s, trying a little desperately to gauge the other boy’s thoughts.
Lance didn’t answer immediately, staring back for several long moments. Keith was just about ready to jump out of his skin by the time Lance finally sucked in a break to speak—
“PALADINS, MEET ON THE TRAINING DECK IN FIVE MINUTES.”
Starting violently the pair scrambled apart, Lance stuttering about getting his armour as he stumbled to the door while Keith dove towards his closet.
It was only after Keith was halfway into his armour and Lance had long since gone that he finally allowed himself to breathe. With a groan he collapsed face down on his bed, smothering his face in his pillow until he calmed down.
He was late to training that day.
***
“...said to me ‘guess those yoga classes you took with Mama paid off’! Anyway, long story short me and Luis are now banned from the Lincoln Park Zoo.”
Keith couldn’t hold in his laughter as Lance he walked to his room that evening. The whole team had hung out in their pajamas for several hours after dinner that night, sharing Hunk’s latest attempt at alien popcorn and watching an incomprehensible Altean drama from ten thousand years ago. Keith had thought Lance would be tense after what he’d divulged that morning, but he had seemed his usual upbeat self, ruffling Pidge’s hair and throwing popcorn into Allura’s mouth (she didn’t drop a single one).
Around 10:30p.m. Castle Time Shiro had recommended they all find their beds, and Lance had flailed a complicated series of signs at him which apparently translated to 'Wanna head to your room for PT?'
Keith was still chuckling at the story as he activated his door and beckoned Lance in. The other boy kept up a steady stream of chatter as Keith quickly brushed his teeth and prepared for bed.
“So you wanted to lie down like before, yeah?” Lance asked, interlacing his fingers for a stretch.
“Uh, yeah,” Keith said, staring at the bed and feeling suddenly flustered.
“Come on then!” Lance chirped, giving him a playful shove between the shoulder blades.
Clearing his throat Keith shook himself and stripped off his shirt, flopping face down on the bed and turning his head to watch Lance turn down the light and swipe the fragrant balm off the desk.
Keeping his breathing deliberately in check Keith closed his eyes and hugged his pillow, swallowing at the first firm stroke. Sighing roughly as the breath was pushed out of him, Keith reflected on the deceptive strength in those long brown fingers. He shouldn’t be surprised, of course—Lance’s frame might have been skinny enough to fit through the bars at the zoo once, but no longer. His broad shoulders were filled out with firm muscle—Keith had seen the evidence time and again on the training deck or at the pool. Keith could clearly picture the hands currently taking him apart tightening on the trigger of Lance’s rifle or slamming into a Galran’s gut.
A pause in the pleasure roused Keith from his musings as Lance shifted on the bed beside him, adjusting his position for what Keith knew to be the first time of many.
An image flitted through Keith’s mind. Sucking in a quick breath he at first tried to banish it, but unfortunately this time logic was against him. Why shouldn’t Lance be comfortable while doing him such an enormous favour?
With a huff of self-directed annoyance Keith turned his mouth out of the pillow.
“Hey,” he rasped, the sound loud in the silence of his dark bedroom. Clearing his throat quietly, he continued “If—if you want, you can sit on me.”
For a moment there was silence. Keith prayed the darkness covered his flush as he waited. He thought maybe he heard Lance swallow before replying.
“You sure?” he asked huskily.
“Yeah.” Keith was practically whispering now, grateful he couldn’t see the other boy’s face.
There was another pause, and then muted rustling as Lance stood up. The bed dipped next to Keith’s hip as Lance sunk a knee into the mattress, leverage to swing his other leg over—and then his was straddling Keith, weight resting across his tailbone.
“That—” Lance’s voice broke. “That okay?”
“Yeah,” Keith breathed, hiding his face in the pillow and trying to calm his thundering heart.
There was something in the air now, a buzzing tension Keith couldn’t ignore.
He wondered if Lance felt it too.
The weight of the other boy pressing him into the mattress felt good, more than he could have imagined, and it took all of his concentration not to groan out loud when Lance shifted forward to continue his work.
Lance’s massage was exquisite as always, but this time it was as if Keith was hyperaware of every inch of his skin. He could feel the hem of Lance’s t-shirt where it brushed his lower back, aware of the cool sheets against his arms and the pressure of Lance’s fingernails on his neck. Tonight the blissful strokes seemed to be accompanied by a shimmering heat, one that spread through his tissue until his whole body was sensitized. Keith was beginning to feel almost drunk, his mind growing fuzzy.
Lance’s belt buckle dug into his ass, and his thumbs dug into his shoulders, and Keith couldn't suppress a moan. Lance’s grip tightened reflexively, his fingernails scoring Keith’s back, and Lance must have been able to feel the way he shivered. Keith could have sworn he heard him curse, but he was rapidly losing control of his ability to think.
The quiet noises began to come a little more frequently, Lance seeming to learn exactly which spots would make him gasp and shudder. His thighs squeezed Keith hips once, briefly, and Keith hissed at the images that flowed forth in his mind.
Lance’s hands moved from his shoulders down his back, working the muscles either side of his spine, low enough that he had to sit up straighter to make room for his hands. The very tip of one of Lance’s thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of Keith’s boxers and he found himself fisting a hand in the pillowcase to keep himself from jumping.
Lance’s hands stroked back up, ghosting over Keith’s ribs and biceps in a decidedly non massage-like manner. His breath had grown rough and it was starting to drive Keith a little wild. The sound coupled with the smell of the cream and Lance’s skin was overloading his senses.
Sinking his teeth into his lip Keith lifted his hips just a fraction, heart in his mouth. He thought he might have heard Lance breathe his name as he pressed down ever so slightly in response.
The muscles in Keith abdomen contracted involuntarily as a thrill ran through his blood. With a shuddering breath he prepared to turn over, one hand reaching back to grip Lance’s thigh, when—
“Keith?” Hunk’s voice filtered through his door as he began knocking. “Keith? Is Lance in there? I need to borrow him for something!”
Keith felt like he was made of stone, frozen in shock as he was ripped out of their little world.
Lance seemed equally stunned, a dead weight against his back, before springing suddenly into action.
“C-coming, Hunk!” he called, his voice wrecked, rolling off Keith with enviable speed. Racing out the door without looking at back once he yelled a brief “Night Keith!” over his shoulder, and was gone.
Staring after him blankly it took Keith several minutes to find his breath, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to anchor himself. His mind a whirlwind of thwarted feelings and buzzing thoughts he threw himself back, burrowing completely beneath the blankets. His body felt overheated, but Keith shivered for hours as galaxies wheeled by outside his bed.
***
“Good news!” Coran exclaimed to Keith where he sat shirtless on an examination table the next day. “You’re healed!”
Keith blinked at him. “I’m… what?”
“Totally healed, my boy! You might still have a bit of soreness, but you won’t need that liniment or any massage therapy anymore! The best thing for it is to go back to your usual routine now. Isn’t that exciting?” He beamed.
“Uh, yeah.” Keith tried to smile around the sinking feeling in his chest. “That’s great, Coran. Thanks.”
“Not a worry! Just try not to get anymore limbs pulled off, alright?”
“Of course. In that case I’ll, uh, maybe head to the training deck for a bit,” Keith said as he slipped off the desk, tugging his shirt on as he walked.
“Good idea! Gotta get your strength back up. Maybe I should make you some of my special—”
“No thanks!” Keith said quickly. “I’m sure I just need exercise. Which is… what I’m gonna go do... now.”
“Well, if you’re sure! I’ll go let everyone know the good news!”
“That’d be great,” Keith said, glad he wouldn’t have to be there to see Lance’s reaction.
He did, in fact, head for the training deck, but as good as it felt to really work out his muscles for the first time in weeks he found he just couldn’t concentrate. Keith’s mind was filled with the events of last night. Had he read the atmosphere correctly? Or was it all in his head? If he had, what did it mean? Why had Lance run? He’d know their little sessions were over by now. How did he feel about that? Was he pleased? Or… was there a chance he was just a disappointed as Keith?
These things ran through his mind around and around endlessly until Keith was called to training.
***
Allura had gone easy on him that day, but Keith was still both physically and emotionally exhausted by the end of it. As soon as dinner was over he’d excused himself to rest in his bedroom, though it provided no respite from his swirling thoughts.
Lance had seemed like his usual self that day, joking around making bets on how long it would before Keith crawled back to him for more backrubs, but he never quite met Keith’s eyes.
That had hurt more than he liked to admit.
Keith wasn’t good with people. Shiro used to tease him about being a robot in the days before he’d disappeared, in between giving him good advice that invariably went unfollowed.
For once Keith wished he’d listened a little closer.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but the thought of losing this new closeness with the blue paladin made Keith’s chest ache.
The worst part was there wasn’t anything he could do. Keith thrived on action. He wasn’t good at thinking problems through, or talking them out, he need to solve things using his own two hands—
Oh.
Sitting up where he had flopped on the bed Keith turned to stare at the innocuous tube of ointment on his desk.
Heart pounding he jumped up and snatched it, marching out the door before he could change his mind.
The walk to Lance’s bedroom was all too short, and mere moments later Keith found himself staring at the door fiddling with the tube nervously.
Chewing on his lip he raised a hand to knock, though it took him several tries before he actually managed it.
Lance’s eyes were wide when they fell on Keith an eternity later. “Keith? What are you doing here?”
Keith fought to meet Lance’s eyes as he raised the tube where the other boy could see it. “I’ve come to, ah, repay the favour," he said, voice a little rough as he tried not to regret his decision.
Lance’s cheeks flushed pink as he stared at Keith hunching his shoulders in the hallway, a series of emotions flitting across his face too quick to decipher.
“Okay,” he replied at length, voice hushed, and he stepped aside to let Keith in.
Heart pounding Keith followed Lance into the darkness of his room, sitting down on the bed where he indicated. In the dim light he couldn’t make out Lance’s expression as he hesitated before settling beside him and turning away.
Swallowing, Keith raised his hands to the other boy's shoulders, gripping him loosely through his shirt. Lance shivered as he made contact.
Narrowing his eyes he forced himself to concentrate, bringing up all the memories of Lance’s hands and doing his best to copy them.
He could feel how tense Lance was. It was comforting to know he wasn’t the only one.
Slowly they both began to relax, Keith finding himself quickly falling into the rhythm of it. It took more concentration that he’d anticipated, and he was grateful to have something else to focus on. Soon Lance was leaning back into him, occasionally grunting whenever Keith did something particularly good.
Time slowed down in the quiet space between them. Keith had no idea how long it had been when he finally brought his hands to a stop. Lance let out a contented sigh, stretching a little and dislodging Keith’s hands.
Keith was sure he should say something, but found himself keeping quiet as Lance turned towards him, muscles pliant and expression soft.
Keith’s heart kicked in his chest as their eyes met, Lance’s right hand coming forward to lace through Keith’s left. Lance’s eyes were bright even as he chewed on his lip nervously, and Keith felt his breath catch in his chest.
“I like you Keith,” Lance whispered, thumb stroking little circles against Keith’s. Keith's heartbeat soared. “I like you a lot. I’m sorry I freaked after—after yesterday. I just…” He shrugged helplessly. “I was scared. I didn’t know if it was real, between us, or just in my head And when Coran told us you didn’t need my help anymore…I thought that that was it. That things would just…go back to normal.” His mouth twisted sadly in the gloom, but the widened into a smile that made Keith’s heart clench. “But they didn’t.”
Keith covered their hands with his other. “I…” His voice sounded wrecked, but he pushed through it. “I thought I should try being brave, too.”
Lance’s grin grew impossibly wider and he leaned forward. “So, what you’re saying is, you like me back.”
Keith couldn’t fight his answering smile as he was drawn in. “You’re alright, I guess.”
Their faces were only a few inches apart. “In that case, would you like to be my boyfriend?” Lance whispered, still smiling, eyes on Keith’s mouth.
“Well,” Keith replied, closing his eyes, “you do give pretty great back ru—”
The rest of the sentence was muffled against Lance's mouth, and neither of them spoke again for some time.
***
The next day was a rough one; Allura had been putting Keith through his paces to make up for lost time, and pushing everyone else just as hard along with him. Many complaints were voiced—mostly from Lance—but Keith relished it. That morning he’d woken up after the best night’s sleep he’d ever had, cuddled up in Lance’s narrow bed, and finally pushing his muscles to their limit felt amazing.
He could feel the difference in his fitness levels, however, even after such a short break. By the end of the day his body was aching and heavy with exhaustion. After dinner he’d barely had the energy to drag himself to the common room—and that was how the team found him; relaxing against the arm of one of the couches, his feet in Lance’s lap, receiving a heavenly foot rub and feeding his boyfriend bites of dessert.
The team had had a predictably exuberant reaction to this sight—especially after Lance’s theatrical explanation—but even their incessant teasing and exclamations of shock couldn’t disturb Keith’s peace.
And in that moment, surrounded by his family, he felt like nothing ever would.