[ there is a lull between keith's question and his response, seemingly distracted by the strangely tender removal of his boots. in the interim, he takes a couple of deep breaths, contemplative. ]
...Bruised.
[ if they were broken, it would hurt a lot more, wouldn't it?
there is a long pause, eyes stalling over keith's hands in the fading light. ]
[He's still not sure how reliable Lance's assessment is. Broken, bruised or cracked, it can be difficult to tell apart the differences. Good thing he's got a magic potion that may or may not be digestible.]
No. [It's a kneejerk response while gauging the condition of his pants in relation to damage. They don't look so rough, but he'll...further determine what's going on there in a minute. For now, he'll stand, cap the potion, slip an arm under Lance's with an upward motion, suggesting he stand up once more, free to rely on Keith to hold him up.] I wouldn't let you die.
[You're like his BEST FRIEND dude...come on. come on man.]
[ it all hurts a little too much to feel like death; wasn't that supposed to be one sweet release? and though he had felt a flare of that fear, there had been something infinitely comforting in keith's presence that hadn't allowed the fear to linger. especially not after hearing such conviction in the other boy's tone.
still, he can't help but babble. up on his feet now, with blood and oxygen rushing back up to his brain, his lightheadedness makes his already instinctual lack of filter that much more unavoidable: ]
For a second, though — for a second I thought I was.
[ once more he leans heavily on keith, using the shorter boy for full support. once more their faces are mere inches apart, and his eyes are left to stare intently wherever they could fall. ]
And then I thought, If I was gonna die, there's definitely something I wanna do before I never get the chance to do it anymore—.
[ and then he stops abruptly, quieting into a heavy pause. then his eyes seem to glaze over, like a visible glitch, and his expression slackens as his head begins to tilt the other way. ]
...Buuuuut I'm not. Which is — yay. Great. That's — great.
[ another pause, but much more brief and awkward. ]
[Well, he's up, and once Lance is up, he's trying to move head -- glazed-over look notwithstanding. The faster they get to the bedroom, the faster Lance won't have to worry about dying.
Because he's fine. Totally fine. He's taking that potion bottle in the hand stretched across Lance's middle, urging him forward.]
Are you alright with walking?
[His legs look fine(ish), yeah, but he doesn't look great.]
You're not dying, we're just moving to our room.
[Our; just reiterating, though, keeping would-be confusion to a minimal. He'll probe more into that once they're settled and he's not thinking about twelve (at least) different things. Do something before he dies? Get married and have too many kids, probably.]
[ lance squints at some distant spot in their path, clearly trying to make sense of something. ]
Didn't you move out...?
[ so much for keeping the confusion to a minimum. though, to be fair, having such trivial details to focus on is helping him, at least as far as keeping his head clear of his own conflicting thoughts, which in turn encourages his body to move on auto-pilot. ]
[Autopilot is fine, and their place is cramped enough where the bedroom isn't far off in the distance. It's close enough that they should reach it before Lance has enough ammo to gripe about the cold floor...he did leave his socks on....]
What? Who cares about that.
[Stop.]
I still live here. That's not even the point.
[Try to stay on topic u fool. u knave. He'll ultimately be lowered onto his bed -- the lower bunk, obviously, for obvious reasons.]
lance isn't too sure anymore, it's so hard to tell once he's suddenly horizontal, and staring up at the underside of his own bed. he remembers the last time he had this view — coincidentally the first night keith had slept on the couch. lance wound up sleeping here, only because he'd been too lazy to climb up into his own bed, of course. of course.
his nose wrinkles slightly. ]
I'm gonna have so much laundry to do...
[ who knows what kind of dirt and blood and ointment junk he's getting all over these sheets. sigh. SIGH. ]
[Speaking of laundry, don't mind Keith as he (after carefully setting the potion bottle aside...) begins undoing Lance's pants with the dexterity of a professional pants-remover. Because, while this is the most inappropriate time to be having awkward (inappropriate????) thoughts, Lance is having an emergency and this is the quickest way to put his mind at ease.
Off they go, past his ankles in a sad pile on the floor...to the side of the bed.]
--Who cares about that either?!
[Forgive him for being a little frantic. A little. He's not the kindest nurse, either, but most of his bedside manners originated from crisis-type scenarios. Like that time Shiro fell out of the sky and the Garrison wanted to stick him in isolation or whatever. Speaking of, without Shiro -- or anyone from home...besides Allura, if she counts, Keith doesn't really have anyone.
He may've broadened his horizons here with friendmaking and such, but it's not quite the same. Call his reasons selfish, but the thought of losing Lance is lowkey unbearable...so thx for giving his biggest concern a voice lol.
In the meantime, he's gonna be looking over Lance's stringbean legs, properly this time.]
[ fair... fair... lance is the one to actually voice the worry, and just because he'd felt complete comfort and trust in keith's determined answer to never let such a thing happen, that doesn't necessarily mean the other boy has moved on from the same concern. lance could definitely stand to be a bit more thoughtful...
but that's somewhat difficult when it occurs to him, quite belatedly, that he's technically laying on a bed that still strangely smells like keith (?? when did he know what keith smells like), wearing nothing but his damp socks and his blue space boxer briefs. his lips press into a thin line, and after too many long stretches of silence and intense staring, lance slowly slips his hands over his lap and just sort of... half-rolls onto his side. back to keith.
SO ANYWAY................. ]
Uh. Thanks. [ his mind sort of just scrambles for any old thing to say, but some genuine gratitude is probably not a bad place to start. it would have had to come up eventually. ] For dressing my wound and... [ taking care of him... making him feel better about not dying... ]
[It all seems fine and dandy, like he's just gonna let Lance do that. There's some clinking in uncapping the healy potion bottle. Excuse him as he applies some of the liquid to his palm and proceeds to dress his lessser legwounds; one on the back of his thigh, another at his exposed calf....]
It's not like I could have left you on the floor.
[How do u feel about his lukewarm (coldish) magic massage? ;)]
[ somehow, the fact that keith isn't making a bigger deal out of this is making lance feel like it's a bigger deal than it probably (???) actually is. and that's just so annoying. why can't be ever be happy. when will he Rest.
in any case, the sudden cold ointment against the back of his legs has him nearly jumping right off the bed. he twists around to try and swat at keith's hands, when he knows the boy's only just trying to help but good gravy man it's so cold and also it tickles. ]
[Duh, jeeze. Way to take a threat too seriously....since he's freaking out, he'll casually tend to his disgusting socks. They're Moist and horrible. He'll slip them off one at a time with minimal movement; he's till favoring the leg-half of his body, even with Lance behaving like a wild animal.]
You shouldn't be [having automatic kneejerk reactions to being groped] moving around like that.
[Pragmatically, while taking a seat at the edge of his mattress.]
[ they were having such a nice moment too... somewhere.. in there... if you squint. but now lance is definitely all tense again, mind firing off wildly where it had once begun to settle into an almost drunken sort of haze. he's shooting a narrow stare keith's way, as if he suddenly can't fathom the other boy, and has curled up to the point he's almost fetal. ]
[Pardon him as he applies some firm pressure to Lance's ribs, in an effort to sow compliance. Don't Make Me Ask Twice: Bootcamp starring Keith. What do you mean your ribs are bruised? Shut up.]
You are, but I just...wanna make sure.
[A secondary poke finds his side; lower, closer to his hip.]
I wanted you to try drinking this. I've only been putting it on your cuts, but...I think you can drink it.
[ okay first of all, all that poking is not helping lance get any closer to loosening up. he'd always been kind of ticklish, but now he feels... extra sensitive to touches. apparently.
still, he can at least recognize that this seems to be coming from a genuine place of concern so... he relents. a bit. ]
...Fine.
[ he holds out a hand for it, slowly propping himself up on an elbow. ]
But if I throw up because of this, you're gonna clean it all up.
[If Lance was still wearing a shirt, it'd be easy to pull him up a bit further so he's not still on a slope like Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park. He hands the potion over, then moves off the bed.]
Don't drink all of it, just try a little.
[Just...in case. One can never be too careful with bogus potions. Also, excuse him as he slides into bed from behind Lance, wedging himself between his shoulders and the pillow. It's a temporary arrangement don't freak out lol, he's got one foot still pressed to the floor for a quick escape after he's done forcibly propping him up, lest he start choking.]
though, to be fair, if he insisted on lance sitting further up, the other boy would have probably made a fuss about it.... BUT TO BE UNFAIR, lance would have done it eventually, okay, you didn't have to noncon him into this pseudo-spooning. ]
I know how to drink medicine...!
[ but, you know, at this point, there's really no point in trying to protest, so it is more a petulant, half-hearted huff. he uncaps the bottle and tries not to think about the fact he can feel keith's breath on the back of his neck, and tosses back a decent gulp of the stuff—
only to start coughing on it because OHGOD IT'S SO GROSS AND THICK BLECH&mhdash; ]
[When an opportunity for noncon spooning presents itself, you don't simply ignore it.]
I thought you knew how to drink it-?!
[Potions are apparently different from Earth medicine, who knew. Maybe he could've warned him about the texture since he had his fingers in it earlier.
SPEAKING of, he's reaching around to grab at the potion bottle; first concern: DON'T SPILL IT. Second concern: he's doing the exact thing they were trying to avoid, CHOKING.
So, pardon him as he smacks Lance's back a few times, shoving his shoulder forward with his potion-hand.]
Look up.
[Look up while being shoved forward and assaulted.]
[ you look up! or so lance would say, if he were able to speak at all. as it is, he can only continue to cough and hack up whatever he hadn't already managed to swallow. he lurches forward when he's shoved, bends over for a few seconds before he suddenly flings himself backward, so that his face is tilted up, head leaning back against the curve of keith's shoulder. his coughs eventually subside, till he's left prone and panting for breath, eyes wide-eyed like he were seeing stars.
a couple of seconds pass where he smacks at his lips... ]
[Lance is extremely lucky he didn't bust Keith's nose up into his skull with that maneuver. Of course, with him like this, it's also difficult to whack him from behind, so his hands sit idly at his sides.]
Did you even swallow any?
[That's what she said. At least he's asking the...important questions. If he can talk, he can breathe, which is important. Moving right along....]
Isn't a very confident response? He's not going to force him to choke down anymore...just in case it truly isn't something he should consume. Maybe those people were chugging something else? He will empty a bit more into his opposite hand and proceed to massage it into Lance's ribcage. Carefully. Lightly. Tenderly.
Just one side.]
Is it this one that's bruised?
[Note how NOT CONVINCED he is of Lance's sudden health boost.]
[ he hisses again, shifting out of reflex. the reaction itself isn't really warranted; the ointment isn't that cold anymore, and the touch is gentle enough that said ribs aren't left aching. (anymore than usual anyway.) still, he shies away from the touch, wriggling the opposite way, probably just because of the touch itself. the shifting has him bumping against keith's leg, making him pause. ]
How can you tell?
[ look the last time he was this hecked up, he was passed out for a majority of it... ]
You're supposed to tell-- you just told me they were bruised.
[Another episode of Lance Exaggerates to somehow get Keith to rub the side of his titys has begun. His hand isn't moving anymore, but the weight remains at his side.]
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...Bruised.
[ if they were broken, it would hurt a lot more, wouldn't it?
there is a long pause, eyes stalling over keith's hands in the fading light. ]
Am I dying?
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No. [It's a kneejerk response while gauging the condition of his pants in relation to damage. They don't look so rough, but he'll...further determine what's going on there in a minute. For now, he'll stand, cap the potion, slip an arm under Lance's with an upward motion, suggesting he stand up once more, free to rely on Keith to hold him up.] I wouldn't let you die.
[You're like his BEST FRIEND dude...come on. come on man.]
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[ it all hurts a little too much to feel like death; wasn't that supposed to be one sweet release? and though he had felt a flare of that fear, there had been something infinitely comforting in keith's presence that hadn't allowed the fear to linger. especially not after hearing such conviction in the other boy's tone.
still, he can't help but babble. up on his feet now, with blood and oxygen rushing back up to his brain, his lightheadedness makes his already instinctual lack of filter that much more unavoidable: ]
For a second, though — for a second I thought I was.
[ once more he leans heavily on keith, using the shorter boy for full support. once more their faces are mere inches apart, and his eyes are left to stare intently wherever they could fall. ]
And then I thought, If I was gonna die, there's definitely something I wanna do before I never get the chance to do it anymore—.
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...Buuuuut I'm not. Which is — yay. Great. That's — great.
[ another pause, but much more brief and awkward. ]
Why am I standing again?
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Because he's fine. Totally fine. He's taking that potion bottle in the hand stretched across Lance's middle, urging him forward.]
Are you alright with walking?
[His legs look fine(ish), yeah, but he doesn't look great.]
You're not dying, we're just moving to our room.
[Our; just reiterating, though, keeping would-be confusion to a minimal. He'll probe more into that once they're settled and he's not thinking about twelve (at least) different things. Do something before he dies? Get married and have too many kids, probably.]
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Didn't you move out...?
[ so much for keeping the confusion to a minimum. though, to be fair, having such trivial details to focus on is helping him, at least as far as keeping his head clear of his own conflicting thoughts, which in turn encourages his body to move on auto-pilot. ]
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What? Who cares about that.
[Stop.]
I still live here. That's not even the point.
[Try to stay on topic u fool. u knave. He'll ultimately be lowered onto his bed -- the lower bunk, obviously, for obvious reasons.]
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lance isn't too sure anymore, it's so hard to tell once he's suddenly horizontal, and staring up at the underside of his own bed. he remembers the last time he had this view — coincidentally the first night keith had slept on the couch. lance wound up sleeping here, only because he'd been too lazy to climb up into his own bed, of course. of course.
his nose wrinkles slightly. ]
I'm gonna have so much laundry to do...
[ who knows what kind of dirt and blood and ointment junk he's getting all over these sheets. sigh. SIGH. ]
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Off they go, past his ankles in a sad pile on the floor...to the side of the bed.]
--Who cares about that either?!
[Forgive him for being a little frantic. A little. He's not the kindest nurse, either, but most of his bedside manners originated from crisis-type scenarios. Like that time Shiro fell out of the sky and the Garrison wanted to stick him in isolation or whatever. Speaking of, without Shiro -- or anyone from home...besides Allura, if she counts, Keith doesn't really have anyone.
He may've broadened his horizons here with friendmaking and such, but it's not quite the same. Call his reasons selfish, but the thought of losing Lance is lowkey unbearable...so thx for giving his biggest concern a voice lol.
In the meantime, he's gonna be looking over Lance's stringbean legs, properly this time.]
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but that's somewhat difficult when it occurs to him, quite belatedly, that he's technically laying on a bed that still strangely smells like keith (?? when did he know what keith smells like), wearing nothing but his damp socks and his blue space boxer briefs. his lips press into a thin line, and after too many long stretches of silence and intense staring, lance slowly slips his hands over his lap and just sort of... half-rolls onto his side. back to keith.
SO ANYWAY................. ]
Uh. Thanks. [ his mind sort of just scrambles for any old thing to say, but some genuine gratitude is probably not a bad place to start. it would have had to come up eventually. ] For dressing my wound and... [ taking care of him... making him feel better about not dying... ]
You know... stuff.
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It's not like I could have left you on the floor.
[How do u feel about his lukewarm (coldish) magic massage? ;)]
Don't get too comfortable.
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in any case, the sudden cold ointment against the back of his legs has him nearly jumping right off the bed. he twists around to try and swat at keith's hands, when he knows the boy's only just trying to help but good gravy man it's so cold and also it tickles. ]
How can I! What the heck are you doing?!
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[Duh, jeeze. Way to take a threat too seriously....since he's freaking out, he'll casually tend to his disgusting socks. They're Moist and horrible. He'll slip them off one at a time with minimal movement; he's till favoring the leg-half of his body, even with Lance behaving like a wild animal.]
You shouldn't be [having automatic kneejerk reactions to being groped] moving around like that.
[Pragmatically, while taking a seat at the edge of his mattress.]
Can you sit up?
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[ they were having such a nice moment too... somewhere.. in there... if you squint. but now lance is definitely all tense again, mind firing off wildly where it had once begun to settle into an almost drunken sort of haze. he's shooting a narrow stare keith's way, as if he suddenly can't fathom the other boy, and has curled up to the point he's almost fetal. ]
I thought you said I was fine already!
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You are, but I just...wanna make sure.
[A secondary poke finds his side; lower, closer to his hip.]
I wanted you to try drinking this. I've only been putting it on your cuts, but...I think you can drink it.
People at the outpost were.
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still, he can at least recognize that this seems to be coming from a genuine place of concern so... he relents. a bit. ]
...Fine.
[ he holds out a hand for it, slowly propping himself up on an elbow. ]
But if I throw up because of this, you're gonna clean it all up.
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Don't drink all of it, just try a little.
[Just...in case. One can never be too careful with bogus potions. Also, excuse him as he slides into bed from behind Lance, wedging himself between his shoulders and the pillow. It's a temporary arrangement don't freak out lol, he's got one foot still pressed to the floor for a quick escape after he's done forcibly propping him up, lest he start choking.]
the icon is laughably accurate
though, to be fair, if he insisted on lance sitting further up, the other boy would have probably made a fuss about it.... BUT TO BE UNFAIR, lance would have done it eventually, okay, you didn't have to noncon him into this pseudo-spooning. ]
I know how to drink medicine...!
[ but, you know, at this point, there's really no point in trying to protest, so it is more a petulant, half-hearted huff. he uncaps the bottle and tries not to think about the fact he can feel keith's breath on the back of his neck, and tosses back a decent gulp of the stuff—
only to start coughing on it because OHGOD IT'S SO GROSS AND THICK BLECH&mhdash; ]
aw...
I thought you knew how to drink it-?!
[Potions are apparently different from Earth medicine, who knew. Maybe he could've warned him about the texture since he had his fingers in it earlier.
SPEAKING of, he's reaching around to grab at the potion bottle; first concern: DON'T SPILL IT. Second concern: he's doing the exact thing they were trying to avoid, CHOKING.
So, pardon him as he smacks Lance's back a few times, shoving his shoulder forward with his potion-hand.]
Look up.
[Look up while being shoved forward and assaulted.]
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a couple of seconds pass where he smacks at his lips... ]
That was
so gross.
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Did you even swallow any?
[That's what she said. At least he's asking the...important questions. If he can talk, he can breathe, which is important. Moving right along....]
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...yeeee...es...?
[ pls. pls don't make him try it again. ]
In any case, I feel totally better now. Good as new!
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Isn't a very confident response? He's not going to force him to choke down anymore...just in case it truly isn't something he should consume. Maybe those people were chugging something else? He will empty a bit more into his opposite hand and proceed to massage it into Lance's ribcage. Carefully. Lightly. Tenderly.
Just one side.]
Is it this one that's bruised?
[Note how NOT CONVINCED he is of Lance's sudden health boost.]
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How can you tell?
[ look the last time he was this hecked up, he was passed out for a majority of it... ]
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You're supposed to tell-- you just told me they were bruised.
[Another episode of Lance Exaggerates to somehow get Keith to rub the side of his titys has begun. His hand isn't moving anymore, but the weight remains at his side.]
Take a deep breath, unless you were lying before.
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