[ there's no real reason for him to be so surprised to find keith right there, hovering over him. he hadn't heard the telltale sounds of footsteps drawing further away, or the tight snap of a door being shut. and yet, when he opens his eyes, they clear on an expression of unrestrained shock, complete with raised brows and a slack jaw. the kind of surprised that's tinged with a sense of wonder, much like keith himself might look should he ever finally find his beloved mothman.
what hurts? everything, lance wants to say, because he's Dramatique™ like that, but there is a strange sense of urgency radiating from the other that he finds himself feeling humbled to, or at the very least abashed. this is serious, and though instinct has him reaching for a joke, a taunt, maybe even a fart — anything to shake this weird tension off — he finds himself coming back empty-handed, so he grasps at the sheets instead. ]
—Sorry.
[ keith may not have been prepared to apologize, but as proud and defiant as lance himself can be, his own apology is sitting there ready on his tongue. he hecked up back there with zero, should have called for back up when things got too dicey, maybe even way before that; but he realizes now that he hecked up here too, somehow, and that's why he can't quite meet keith in the eyes anymore, staring off instead to some random spot away from him.
it's the bonding moment all over again, isn't it? where lance felt compelled to brush this off as nothing, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things seeing as how he's fine, hes's getting better, why make it a bigger thing than it already is—
it's not nothing to keith, for whatever reason lance is still struggling to understand, and so maybe brushing if off like that hadn't been the most sensitive thing to do... ]
I'll tell you what you wanna know, just... just promise you won't go looking for trouble, okay? [ a pause, and one final attempt at levity: ] I don't think I can be as good a nurse as you.
[ it's not about not trusting keith's abilities. keith's one of the strongest, most dynamic fighters he knows. he knows the guy will do whatever it takes, but (thanks to their late-night swamp chat) now he also knows for a certainty that keith is also the kind of guy who won't stop, either. and past faith in abilities, and past his own sympathy for his confused attacker — he just doesn't want to have to come home one day and see keith all bloody and broken. he saw it once, back on the castle-ship after meeting with the blade, and it had been bad enough then. for some reason, lance things if he saw it again now, he wouldn't know how to even deal with it. ]
[A similar apology was resting uncomfortably in his throat, creating a ball of nothingness -- a pang of guilt he wouldn't be feeling if Lance weren't so goddamn careless, if he (himself) weren't such an asshole. Whatever these feelings he's feeling for Lance, outside of what he's doing now and even beyond their stupid argument is manifesting in the weirdest way. Keith's a guy of extremes, similar to Lance's Dramatiques™, and when giving a shit fiercely resonates with every other aspect of himself it comes out like diarrhea spaghetti. Too much, too narrow, dogmatic in the worst way.]
Don't be.
[Quietly, looking elsewhere just the same, focusing on a corner of the dumb room he abandoned over something dumb that also made no sense. His eyes shift to the wall that exists in a square that separates their beds. It's barren -- the whole room is. There's nothing decorative or personal, bare and without a cork-board of conspiracies, theories -- where did his wooden halfassed I Got Deserted On An Alien Planet And While I Wasn't Dropped In The Ocean I'm Still Using This Flimsy Two-By-Fourish Thing To Mark The Days, Like A Prisoner At Alkatraz go? Why is the naked wall making him feel like shit?
Oh, right. It's himself that's making him feel like shit -- or, his previous actions as iterated by Lance. It's an extended apology that enters his brain as way to go idiot and progresses as patience yields focus, moron.]
It's -- no. You were right. [A harsh swallow, trying to free his throat up of that knot of stress.] You took care of me before. Without yelling at me.
[He's moving to settle his skinny ass on approximately six inches of mattress space, purposely making himself scarce while re-personalizing the conversation.]
I just don't want you to get hurt again.
[Not to oversimplify Lance's thoughts, but what a hivemind.]
[ 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.
Edited (jk... im not that bold) 2017-09-13 21:55 (UTC)
[The goal was to sit on the bed and without landing on Lance in any way and opening him up somehow. This arrangement is perfect. Stop moving.
His brows lift skeptically at Lance's little pledge. It's nice to hear, but unbelievable. Like John Titor talking about timeleaps on the radio -- or, uh, it was until they started living off a castleship capable of teleportation and who knows what else.]
Huh? [Like he'd made the request in another language.] There's barely enough room for you, plus you're hurt.
[Because sleep here tonight means in bed with me rather than rejoin me in our room that you've been avoiding for x amount of time. He doesn't have enough time to be properly flustered by the request he's (probably) misconstruing, as it's supplemented by a water request...]
Always with ice. [ he's a sun child okay... cold water or bust, yo. get that lukewarm gross stuff outta here.
in any case, he has to kind of do a mental lap around just to get back to the place where keith had clearly fallen behind, because while his question might have been... bold... it definitely hadn't meant to be that bold! ]
Also, in case you haven't noticed, but there's two whole beds here. [ he lifts a hand up to wave vaguely up at the mattress situated right above them. ] Plenty of places for little Keiths to get their nap-nap on without bothering poor, injured — but totally healing quickly! — Lances.
I'm not gonna be able to sleep in either bunk if you chew it again.
[Besides, he wasted his first Four Exact Cubes, he doesn't deserve any more of them. Especially where they're running low. Ice Cubes are basically endangered in their household.]
[He's moving, the mattress dips as he leans over -- moving, not indicative of standing, but he's leaning over Lance, making an effort not to weigh himself down on him. He's hurt, actively so -- in pain to be more precise, and he's not trying to add to it. While steadying himself with a grip on the bedlatter, he brushes his knuckles over Lance's hairline and for approximately five seconds his next idea seems totally founded, sound, a fabulous idea.
Except it quickly becomes a horrendously bad mistake when he's in the process of leaning over. Like when you've stood in line for a roller coaster for an hour and now that it's time to board, you're petrified.]
[ lance's mouth opens, ready to go on a five-minute long tirade over the absurdity of their ice cube situation, and how he feels, as roommates, it's time to finally tackle this very serious problem once and for all, because honestly he can't live like this, people, and he shouldn't have to be forced to for any longer!!
except then keith is leaning over him, and suddenly too close (as if they hadn't been even closer than this just earlier??) (BUT IT HAD BEEN DIFFERENT THEN! THEY WERE BACK TO CHEST!) (is that really any better though...) (wait did keith just touch his hair—) and all lance can do is lean back out of reflex. though in this case, with a mattress flush against him, leaning back is really more like sinking in, which means there's really nowhere for him to go, and the look on his face is that of some poor college kid caught in front of someone's lawn with his pants down. i'm sorry officer i was just trying to take a whizz all the bathrooms at the totally legal house party i was at were occupied honest please don't tell my mom.
wait did keith say something? ]
...On... the table...?
[ where glasses should be? WHAT IS HAPPENING, HIS BRAIN DOESN'T KNOW WHERE TO GO, also his voice totally cracked and keith is still like hovering over him and suddenly he is very, very aware of the fact he's just wearing his underwear right now. ]
[This is like that time he was drunk, except he was drunk and couldn't fully appreciate (appreciate?) his face lingering so close to Lance's, or the lavender smell of his lavender moisturizer now -- he smells more like vanilla patchouli; dirty vanilla patchouli that's gotten its ass kicked. There's absolutely no reason for him to be poised as he is; it's like he's bracing for the bed to cave in, minus the fact that he's being affectionate and thinking about doubling it.]
[This may be a bad time to experience a rainbow (lol) of emotions and force absurd thoughts unto his Bro. It wouldn't be any-less weird to bring up Riza, talk about lewd pictures, explain things, confirm another, worsen the situation all over again. He could just tell Lance it looked like his forehead had a bump, or he could stop fumbling around these absurd, unlikely feelings he's been feeling since -- he can't even pinpoint. Maybe since forever.]
[ no is lance's instinctive response, because defiance is easy, especially when he's in a situation that's completely out of his element and weird and why hasn't keith moved yet? he has to know he's like, weirdly close to him right now, right? maybe he was wrong all along, maybe keith was the one who got hurt tonight, maybe keith's suffering from a concussion, or maybe he is and this is all just a weird hallucination except, ha ha, why would he hallucinate something like this, him, lance, lancey lance, who hates keith because they're totally just rivals, ha ha ha ]
Why, [ he ends up saying, which is very obviously not a no, but it's also not technically a yes, and okay so his eyes are sort of battling with themselves, it seems, lids fluttering like he's some fragile debutante in the midst of a swoon.
but honestly it's not even like four seconds later before he actually does close his eyes, because his bi-curiosity is getting the better of him, he squeezes them real shut like he's expecting a punch to the face or something. ]
Don't do anything weird.
[ but hey... what does 'weird' even mean anymore tbh... ]
[Is this weird? Why's it weird? Two bros chillin on a bed super duper close cus they might be gay. His heart's beating so fast, it's like he can't even properly weigh the pros and cons, or even the WHY to this. Rather, if he does start to think logically, he'll full-on chicken out and it'll be way worse. Who even goes this far and bails? Even Keith, with his limited knowledge of Wooing and Successful Woo Scenarios, knows you can't halfass shit like this. It's dumb.
Lance obeys and he stammers in place; it's easier without him staring, but still: not an easy task to see to completion. He extends his reach a bit further, chin eventually bumping the bridge of Lance's nose -- barely, he's nervous, and...
Very gently, in the spot between but above his brows, he presses his lips to the skin there, holds his breath for approximately six sections then pulls back with the same composure of someone that's just seen a samsquanch.]
[ it is pretty weird. but also — not? like the kind of weird you spend your whole life thinking is weird, but then you finally do it and you're like wait why did i ever think it was weird at all? like wearing cargo pants. or using those lanyard things for your glasses. (it's practical, okay.)
and lance isn't really sure what he'd been expecting, except maybe he was, because he feels the press of lips against his brow and his immediate reaction is — disappointment? (why? WHAT WAS HE EXPECTING—)
his eyes open just as keith draws away, because he assumes he can look now even without being told too. he just kind of. stares. stares with an obvious question in his mouth, but finding no voice to actually get the words out, and so he opts for that long stretch of awkward silence instead because
what the heck? no, really, what the heck?
up till two seconds ago he would have been willing to bet good money that keith never would have even known what kissing was, never mind trying something like it on him. and, sure, okay, yeah, it wasn't really kissing, but it was also a lot more kissing than not kissing is and
okay okay slow down here. don't overthink this. this was probably just keith being keith, doing something he thought he had to do in a situation where he's out of his element, and so he gets his wires crossed a little and forgets that gestures like that were really more reserved for mothers or fathers or. you know. partners. yeah. yeah, that makes sense. that makes total sense! it's just keith. being keith. doing his funny keith things. ha ha. ha. ]
Uh. Thanks... Keith...
[ yeah yeah, he should thank him. cuz it's a nice gesture, you know! just two bros, chillin on a bed... nothing to see here. ]
[It happens, and Keith's immediately filled with regret. Miraculously, the Why Would You Do Thats and the That Was Extremely Dumbs become deafening between his ears -- as does a blush, but rather than deafening, it's rosy and more discernible than it should be, disadvantaged by his pale skin.
But rather than being met with a shriek or sudden recoil, Lance...thanks...him. Maybe his plan wasn't so bizarre after all? Maybe Lance just needed some...paternal...affection.
Making it weird brah.
In turn, he says nothing. He just pulls himself up and away, on his feet, retrieving that drinking glass like Rambo; a man on a mission. He's gone with the same haste of Santa on Christmas morning. Like his britches are on fire.
[ alright. cool. that's fine. sure, maybe he would have appreciated some words there, something to kind of explain or at least enlighten lance to keith's particular train of thought, but maybe it's better this way, maybe he doesn't really want to know, maybe there was no thinking involved at all and he's doing the thoughtful gesture a disservice by doing all this over-thinking in the first place.
so he just. won't. it's nothing, no big deal, no reason to make a mountain out of an ant hill because this is definitely so far from being a thing it doesn't even deserve the analogy of a mole hill. yeah. tooootally fine.
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what hurts? everything, lance wants to say, because he's Dramatique™ like that, but there is a strange sense of urgency radiating from the other that he finds himself feeling humbled to, or at the very least abashed. this is serious, and though instinct has him reaching for a joke, a taunt, maybe even a fart — anything to shake this weird tension off — he finds himself coming back empty-handed, so he grasps at the sheets instead. ]
—Sorry.
[ keith may not have been prepared to apologize, but as proud and defiant as lance himself can be, his own apology is sitting there ready on his tongue. he hecked up back there with zero, should have called for back up when things got too dicey, maybe even way before that; but he realizes now that he hecked up here too, somehow, and that's why he can't quite meet keith in the eyes anymore, staring off instead to some random spot away from him.
it's the bonding moment all over again, isn't it? where lance felt compelled to brush this off as nothing, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things seeing as how he's fine, hes's getting better, why make it a bigger thing than it already is—
it's not nothing to keith, for whatever reason lance is still struggling to understand, and so maybe brushing if off like that hadn't been the most sensitive thing to do... ]
I'll tell you what you wanna know, just... just promise you won't go looking for trouble, okay? [ a pause, and one final attempt at levity: ] I don't think I can be as good a nurse as you.
[ it's not about not trusting keith's abilities. keith's one of the strongest, most dynamic fighters he knows. he knows the guy will do whatever it takes, but (thanks to their late-night swamp chat) now he also knows for a certainty that keith is also the kind of guy who won't stop, either. and past faith in abilities, and past his own sympathy for his confused attacker — he just doesn't want to have to come home one day and see keith all bloody and broken. he saw it once, back on the castle-ship after meeting with the blade, and it had been bad enough then. for some reason, lance things if he saw it again now, he wouldn't know how to even deal with it. ]
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Don't be.
[Quietly, looking elsewhere just the same, focusing on a corner of the dumb room he abandoned over something dumb that also made no sense. His eyes shift to the wall that exists in a square that separates their beds. It's barren -- the whole room is. There's nothing decorative or personal, bare and without a cork-board of conspiracies, theories -- where did his wooden halfassed I Got Deserted On An Alien Planet And While I Wasn't Dropped In The Ocean I'm Still Using This Flimsy Two-By-Fourish Thing To Mark The Days, Like A Prisoner At Alkatraz go? Why is the naked wall making him feel like shit?
Oh, right. It's himself that's making him feel like shit -- or, his previous actions as iterated by Lance. It's an extended apology that enters his brain as way to go idiot and progresses as patience yields focus, moron.]
It's -- no. You were right. [A harsh swallow, trying to free his throat up of that knot of stress.] You took care of me before. Without yelling at me.
[He's moving to settle his skinny ass on approximately six inches of mattress space, purposely making himself scarce while re-personalizing the conversation.]
I just don't want you to get hurt again.
[Not to oversimplify Lance's thoughts, but what a hivemind.]
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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.
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His brows lift skeptically at Lance's little pledge. It's nice to hear, but unbelievable. Like John Titor talking about timeleaps on the radio -- or, uh, it was until they started living off a castleship capable of teleportation and who knows what else.]
Huh? [Like he'd made the request in another language.] There's barely enough room for you, plus you're hurt.
[Because sleep here tonight means in bed with me rather than rejoin me in our room that you've been avoiding for x amount of time. He doesn't have enough time to be properly flustered by the request he's (probably) misconstruing, as it's supplemented by a water request...]
You're gonna end up peeing in your sleep.
[Which isn't a no, but a Word To The Wise.]
With ice?
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in any case, he has to kind of do a mental lap around just to get back to the place where keith had clearly fallen behind, because while his question might have been... bold... it definitely hadn't meant to be that bold! ]
Also, in case you haven't noticed, but there's two whole beds here. [ he lifts a hand up to wave vaguely up at the mattress situated right above them. ] Plenty of places for little Keiths to get their nap-nap on without bothering poor, injured — but totally healing quickly! — Lances.
1/3
[Besides, he wasted his first Four Exact Cubes, he doesn't deserve any more of them. Especially where they're running low. Ice Cubes are basically endangered in their household.]
But there's only one left, so don't complain.
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Except it quickly becomes a horrendously bad mistake when he's in the process of leaning over. Like when you've stood in line for a roller coaster for an hour and now that it's time to board, you're petrified.]
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except then keith is leaning over him, and suddenly too close (as if they hadn't been even closer than this just earlier??) (BUT IT HAD BEEN DIFFERENT THEN! THEY WERE BACK TO CHEST!) (is that really any better though...) (wait did keith just touch his hair—) and all lance can do is lean back out of reflex. though in this case, with a mattress flush against him, leaning back is really more like sinking in, which means there's really nowhere for him to go, and the look on his face is that of some poor college kid caught in front of someone's lawn with his pants down. i'm sorry officer i was just trying to take a whizz all the bathrooms at the totally legal house party i was at were occupied honest please don't tell my mom.
wait did keith say something? ]
...On... the table...?
[ where glasses should be? WHAT IS HAPPENING, HIS BRAIN DOESN'T KNOW WHERE TO GO, also his voice totally cracked and keith is still like hovering over him and suddenly he is very, very aware of the fact he's just wearing his underwear right now. ]
1/2
Oh.
[He doesn't break to look away to confirm.]
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Can you -- close your eyes?
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Why, [ he ends up saying, which is very obviously not a no, but it's also not technically a yes, and okay so his eyes are sort of battling with themselves, it seems, lids fluttering like he's some fragile debutante in the midst of a swoon.
but honestly it's not even like four seconds later before he actually does close his eyes, because his
bi-curiosity is getting the better of him, he squeezes them real shut like he's expecting a punch to the face or something. ]Don't do anything weird.
[ but hey... what does 'weird' even mean anymore tbh... ]
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Lance obeys and he stammers in place; it's easier without him staring, but still: not an easy task to see to completion. He extends his reach a bit further, chin eventually bumping the bridge of Lance's nose -- barely, he's nervous, and...
Very gently, in the spot between but above his brows, he presses his lips to the skin there, holds his breath for approximately six sections then pulls back with the same composure of someone that's just seen a samsquanch.]
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and lance isn't really sure what he'd been expecting, except maybe he was, because he feels the press of lips against his brow and his immediate reaction is — disappointment? (why? WHAT WAS HE EXPECTING—)
his eyes open just as keith draws away, because he assumes he can look now even without being told too. he just kind of. stares. stares with an obvious question in his mouth, but finding no voice to actually get the words out, and so he opts for that long stretch of awkward silence instead because
what the heck? no, really, what the heck?
up till two seconds ago he would have been willing to bet good money that keith never would have even known what kissing was, never mind trying something like it on him. and, sure, okay, yeah, it wasn't really kissing, but it was also a lot more kissing than not kissing is and
okay okay slow down here. don't overthink this. this was probably just keith being keith, doing something he thought he had to do in a situation where he's out of his element, and so he gets his wires crossed a little and forgets that gestures like that were really more reserved for mothers or fathers or. you know. partners. yeah. yeah, that makes sense. that makes total sense! it's just keith. being keith. doing his funny keith things. ha ha. ha. ]
Uh. Thanks... Keith...
[ yeah yeah, he should thank him. cuz it's a nice gesture, you know! just two bros, chillin on a bed... nothing to see here. ]
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But rather than being met with a shriek or sudden recoil, Lance...thanks...him. Maybe his plan wasn't so bizarre after all? Maybe Lance just needed some...paternal...affection.
Making it weird brah.
In turn, he says nothing. He just pulls himself up and away, on his feet, retrieving that drinking glass like Rambo; a man on a mission. He's gone with the same haste of Santa on Christmas morning. Like his britches are on fire.
Seeya in five.]
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so he just. won't. it's nothing, no big deal, no reason to make a mountain out of an ant hill because this is definitely so far from being a thing it doesn't even deserve the analogy of a mole hill. yeah. tooootally fine.
—wait then why was keith blushing?! ]