Actions

Work Header

What if?

Summary:

He wishes it didn’t but, seeing Keith again like this, under the striking pink and orange hues of dusk, sets a swarm of butterflies loose in his chest. To think, for these past two months, Lance has been focusing on getting over him.

Seems like he’s doing one hell of a job.

It’s driving him crazy that he can’t tell what Keith is thinking. Lance wishes he could read him, but he doesn’t know this Keith. He isn’t the same person who’d left them two months ago, and Lance wonders if it’s wrong to treat him like he is. He also wonders if Keith knows what he’s doing to him, joining him up on the roof like this. Bathed in twilight, dark eyes trained on the sky, sweat and moisture visibly clinging to the pale skin around his hairline, his collar...

Notes:

You know that strange urge you get to do exactly what you know you shouldn't? It has a name... that I forget. Anyway, that's what inspired this drabble ✨

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The air is heavy, thick with the weight of midsummer heat even as the sun sets against the horizon. It’s also sticky, the humidity causing the hair along his nape to curl at the ends which he hates

Yet, Lance loves it up here. As he watches the sunset, he’s helpless to do anything but as the sky paints the rocky landscape like a canvas. The Garrison rooftop is the best place to watch the sunset, after all, and there’s no way he’s going to miss a single one while he’s back on Earth, temperature be damned. 

It’s become his routine to head up here every night after dinner and not come back down until it’s completely dark. He couldn’t stand it before, all the dust, the heat, the way the wind tousled his hair into disarray. But none of it matters anymore, not when they all remind him of a home he’s spent so long missing. He’s missed it for so long, he thinks he might never stop, no matter how long he stays. He wonders how that’s possible... to continue to miss something, even when it’s right in front of you.

Lance peeks over his shoulder, gaze instantly landing on the thick head of dark hair that lingers a few paces behind him. Keith looks pensive as he observes the evening sky, but, then again, Lance would be lying if he said he knew how to read his teammate anymore. For Lance, Keith was gone for two months. For Keith, it was two years

It isn’t hard to spot the two years on him, either. They both used to be the same height, but now, reluctantly… Lance has to admit that Keith’s about two inches taller than him. His shoulders are wider, too, his jaw a little sharper. And his hair is long—Lance doesn’t think he’s cut it since, well, before he went into the quantum abyss. He’s grown up. Keith has always been one step ahead of him, but that fact has never made him feel so small before. 

He wishes it didn’t but, seeing Keith again like this, under the striking pink and orange hues of dusk, sets a swarm of butterflies loose in his chest. To think, for these past two months, Lance has been focusing on getting over him. 

Seems like he’s been doing one hell of a job. 

It’s driving him crazy that he can’t tell what Keith is thinking. Lance wishes he could read him, but he doesn’t know this Keith. He isn’t the same person who’d left them two months ago, and Lance wonders if it’s wrong to treat him like he is. He also wonders if Keith knows what he’s doing to him, joining him up on the roof like this. Standing in his secret space, where he usually spends his time alone and vulnerable, like he's always belonged there to begin with. Bathed in twilight, dark eyes trained on the sky, sweat and moisture visibly clinging to the pale skin around his hairline, his collar.  

Lance prys his eyes back to the sunset, to the sloping, sandy hills and rocks. The way they lay in stark contrast against the sky. 

Goosebumps spread up the back of his neck and Lance instantly knows it’s because Keith is looking at him. It scares him, a little, how intrinsically his body remembers the feeling of having Keith’s eyes on him.  

“Do you ever have the urge to do something even though you know it’s a bad idea?” he blurts, fidgets slightly where he stands. He doesn’t wait for Keith to respond. Just like a broken dam, once the water starts spilling, there’s no way to stop it. “You know that things might not end well if you do, but… there’s still a small, teeny tiny chance that they might go right...” 

He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Keith is so silent behind him, he doesn’t even know if he’s listening, either. 

“So you begin to wonder… what if…” 

But he can still feel him looking

“And somehow… that chance starts to seem worth taking,” he flushes up the back of his neck, to the tips of his ears, red and patchy and hot. He hopes, prays, that Keith can’t see it in the dying light. 

When Keith stays quiet, Lance turns around. Keith seems to startle a little, eyes wide, and Lance doesn’t get it

“I… don’t think I know what you’re asking,” Keith fumbles, clearly caught off guard. Apparently, Keith doesn’t get it either. 

Because he can’t help it, Lance smiles. Because he doesn’t want Keith to catch him, he aims it at the sky. 

“Like…” He turns around quickly, faces the desert once more as he hops onto the ledge of the roof. 

“Looking down, I know that I don’t want to jump. And I know what would probably happen if I did…” he trails off, pauses a moment. “Still… a small part of me wonders what would happen if I did it anyway.”

“Lance…” 

At the sound of his own name, he startles. Keith’s hand is on his arm instantly, steadying him, slowly guiding him down until he’s off the ledge. Keith’s eyebrows are pinched, and he’s frowning so obviously it almost looks like a pout. He looks so serious, which draws a laugh out of Lance. 

“I’m not saying I’m going to,” he says lightly, and Keith raises a brow. Keith’s frown doesn’t fade, and Lance huffs. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” 

“What’s wrong?” Keith prods, concern seeping into his features. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Lance sighs, shifting his eyes back to the sunset. The familiarity of it calms him, sets his heart at ease even though he’s still painfully aware of Keith’s hand on his arm. “Just, life is short, you know? A week ago, I didn’t even know if I’d ever see Earth again.” It’s so easy to lose himself in the sky. In the fading pinks, the vivid oranges clinging to the horizon. “And it makes me think… maybe it’s too short? Too short to worry about something for so long,” 

“Like how someone feels. Like studying every single little look they give you. Do you risk your friendship, is it worth it?” It feels like the sun is tugging his secrets from him, like he’s confessing to the stars beginning to dot the sky. 

Lance…” 

“—especially when you don’t know how they feel. Do they even like you?! Should I be concentrating on moving on, or am I just going to keep driving myself crazy, wasting all of my time in this stupid, never ending space war—” 

Two hands come to cup at each side of his face, turning his head so that he’s suddenly facing Keith again. Keith’s hands are hot against his jaw and his eyes are dark, so dark and endless he’s instantly lost in them. This close, they remind him of a black hole—the way they swallow the light around them, the way they suck him in and in and in until he thinks he’s long past the event horizon and there’s no more escaping him. His thoughts leave him and he feels his body go slack like putty as Keith cranes his neck, abruptly draws him forward, and presses their lips together.

His lips are chapped and so, so hot against his but they’re also soft, gentle in a way Lance never imagined they would be (and boy did he imagine). Keith pulls back with half lidded eyes, beholds him with such a momentary fondness that Lance stiffens, blushes furiously from head to toe. 

What—” he breathes, and it’s quiet, so quiet. Like he’s pressed for air… which, he is, with Keith stealing his breath away from him like a Goddamn cliche. 

“You’re right,” Keith shrugs, averts his eyes quickly. Lance wonders if he’s imagining things, or if the faint blush flushing Keith’s cheeks is real. “Life is short. I… uh. Wanted to do that.” 

“You did?” He asks, incredulous.  

“Did... you not want me to?” He asks hesitantly. 

“No,” Lance says, dazed. Keith’s eyes open a fraction wider, and Lance registers what he just said. “No!!!” he says quickly, a touch too loud. “Shit, wait—I mean, yes!” Keith interrupts him with a laugh. It's full bodied, deep and fond and open, and his eyes crinkle endearingly at the edges. Lance’s heart stutters feebly at the sound. 

“Wait,” Lance shakes his head, dizzy with the situation, with the proximity. “You… wanted to do that?!” 

Keith averts his eyes again, this time in favour of the space between them. “Yeah…” he mumbles. 

“Since when?” Lance presses, and Keith groans. 

“Lance, really—” 

“Yes, Keith, since when?” He repeats. “You… you were gone for two years! I figured you would have forgotten all about us, and, well… me.” 

“I’ve had a crush on you since we started at the Garrison,” Keith sighs heavily, somewhat defeatedly, and lifts his face to look at Lance again. “Trust me, if I could have forgotten, I would have a long time ago.” In Lance’s mind, only one thing resonates. 

“You had a crush on me?” he whispers, grabbing at the fabric of Keith’s sleeve and tugging at it lightly. “Really?” He smiles small, soft, unable to stop the warmth that’s flooding his chest right now from showing on his face. 

 

I’ve had a crush on you since we started at the Garrison. 

 

This time, there’s no mistaking Keith’s blush. 

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, just as quiet. Lance can hardly believe it, probably wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t for the way Keith’s looking at him. 

 

I’ve had a crush on you since we started at the Garrison. 

Trust me, if I could have forgotten, I would have a long time ago.

Wait

 

“Do you… still want to forget?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s afraid the scene around him might shatter if he’s not careful. 

Keith’s mouth turns up at the edges. He leans in close, close enough that his breath ghosts across Lance’s skin as he speaks. “No,” he breathes. It’s getting dark now, the sun having long disappeared below the sandy hills. Keith’s gaze flits from Lance’s eyes down to his lips and back up again. “I… saw you all the time, in the quantum abyss,” he whispers “I wanted to see you.” 

Maybe Keith was different now… but, Lance realizes, he’s still Keith. He has the same laugh, the same eyes, the same voice. The same impulsivity, too, apparently. 

The same effect on him.

Lance tangles his fingers in Keith’s hair, closes the small distance between them, and jumps. 

Keith matches his intensity with ease, just like he always has, and Lance melts against him just like he’s always wanted to.

Notes:

Click here for links to my socials 💕 (most active on instagram!)