[ technically, there was some yelling involved, but most of it was due to a drunken keith's propensity to forget what personal space meant. and that's coming from lance, mr. your-shoulder-is-also-my-armrest. but lance knows that's not what keith really means, and while a part of him doesn't particularly care either way (like keith, it's not like he'd done that with any sort of debt in mind, despite his frequent whines of "you owe me" and all that jazz), he is mindful enough not to evoke an argument for the sake of an argument. even if, right now, falling back into that easy banter feels so much safer than... whatever it is they're doing right now.

he feels the bed dip slightly at keith's added weight, and he shifts a little on the bed to make a bit more room. but it's a twin size, and there's not much he can do given his injuries anyway, so it winds up being just an additional three inches, and his arm flush up against keith's butt. it's... not the most comfortable of positions, but it's definitely better than the distance from seconds earlier. ]

If it helps any, I definitely don't try to get hurt.

[ that... probably doesn't help any at all, so lance hastily adds: ]

I'll be careful next time. I promise.

[ past keith he can see the crumpled heap of telltale red and black, and though he is incredibly thankful they're no longer yelling at each other, he finds himself none too eager to have the evening end. not just yet, not like this. they've made up now, sort of, even if lance still isn't entirely sure why things got as volatile as they did, but he can't shake off the feeling things still feel a little... unresolved. unfinished. ]

Will you sleep here tonight? [ a beat to actually here himself, and he cringes at how small his voice sounds. almost defiantly, he adds in a louder tone: ] I could need more water. The air's so dry lately.