Chapter Text
The waves rolled in front of him, bringing with them a cold biting wind, salty air.
Sand seeped its way into his shoes, almost impossibly.
It wasn’t the shore he was used to. It wasn’t Varadero; it wasn’t memories, and childhood, and family. It was a small beach where everything was bathed in a sullen grey, the colors dulled down as they were in the States, but still, the water. The water understood him always, the pull and crash of each wave a pattern he sensed in himself.
After he had left the base, he had gone home. The concept had become weird for him. Home was his apartment near the garrison, it was the farm, it was Cuba, it was the sea: it was none of these places on their own and all of them at once. It was mostly Earth.
He had spent a whole week at the farm. When he set foot in the house, it had been as if his mom had sensed him. He had been caught in her arms, in her soothing presence as he cried again. It felt like Allura’s death all over again, except this time, no one had died. Somewhere in space, Keith was waking up, alive and well. The relief made him cry as well, the guilt of leaving made him cry too.
He had let everything flow through him.
He breathed better after. Still, he spent a few more days in bed, waiting, stuck.
What’s next? He wondered, again and again.
Rachel had stumbled into the small room he stayed in, arms crossed in front of her. He had been on his side in the single bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, reading the texts between Keith and him. It was a bit pathetic.
“You’re not doing this again. Get up.”
“No thanks.”
He had been testing his luck, petty. She had dragged him by the wrist, pulling him until he fell on the floor harshly.
“Lance, I’m serious, get up. I’m getting you out of here.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want me to leave in the first place. Look, I’m here now, so please leave me alone.”
“You suck.”
“I know” he had answered childishly.
“I’d rather you being happy elsewhere than sulking here, ruining the vibe for everyone.”
“Mercy, please”
“No. Now please shower and put on some clean clothes, I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”
Lance had listened. Rachel had indeed been waiting for him behind the wheel, on her phone. Of course, she had her driver’s license. Unlike him, she had been putting her time to good use.
“I know what’ll make you feel better” she had said, smiling.
And here he was, on the beach. Rachel had dropped him off and left, saying she would be back in a while. He felt like some kid in detention waiting for a lift, but the outside air and the view of the horizon was worth it.
Truth is, after the first few days back, of crying, of feelings knocking back into him violently, he had felt better. Grounded. He was a bit amazed at his now new-found skill of bouncing back.
And he was waiting lamely for Keith to text him, to call him, anything. Shiro had sent him a message when Keith got out of the pod, and it had been radio silence since. He had spent the rest of the week in existential crisis mode, fidgeting with his phone, tired and uncertain of his future.
He knew he had to go back to his apartment soon enough, but it felt like some sort of failure to do so. Without any news from Keith, the terrible feeling that he had ruined everything clung to the bottom of his stomach. He had ruined everything by leaving, by thinking he could have stayed in space full-time again and disappointing everyone — he had ruined everything by wanting Keith even though he shouldn’t, couldn’t have him.
What a mess I am, he thought, gaze flickering upwards to the whiteness of the sky. And now, without any sign of life from Keith while knowing he was well and alive, he also felt on edge, raw.
Lance had ran cowardly, but he ached to see Keith even though it would hurt him all the same. If Lance had been stronger, if he had been other than himself, maybe he could’ve stayed in space, maybe he could have confessed. They could have shared a life instead of flimsily visiting each other, never being enough for one another.
Lance closed his eyes to feel the breeze around him.
He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He expected his sister.
But here, right in the flesh, was Keith Kogane.
Keith sat down sheepishly next to him, unbothered by Lance’s gaping mouth.
He wore his usual bomber jacket, strands of hair whipping his face while he tried uselessly to put them behind his ears. His dark eyes met Lance, skin pale in the gloomy bright day.
“Hey, can we talk?” Keith said, as though he wasn’t like an apparition for Lance.
“How— what—” he stuttered “Keith, what the fuck? How are you here?”
“I took a spaceship” he answered matter-of-factly.
“No, I mean—”
“Rachel told me” Keith interrupted, the ghost of a teasing grin on his face. “She’s scarily like you, and really sneaky.”
“Of course she did.” Lance still felt struck by Keith’s mere presence. He seemed heathy, calm. Small lines under his eyes that could’ve been blamed on a bad night of sleep.
“You look good.”
“Thanks.” Keith grinned this time.
“I meant you looked— Nah, both meanings work, I guess. You do look great.”
Keith rolled his eyes slightly before his expression changed into a serious one. He turned towards the sea.
“I’m sorry” he spoke clearly, not facing Lance. “And thank you. Shiro said you were the one to save me.”
Lance couldn’t say anything. He wanted to joke, but he actually didn’t know where to go from here.
They had tiptoed for so long around each other, and Lance felt something akin to heartbreak breach his chest. What if they were doomed to always repeat the same dance over and over again, never committing to anything, always chasing one another and running from their feelings endlessly?
The wind blew Keith’s hair, hiding his face. Lance turned to the sea as well because looking at Keith filled him with longing.
“Did you come here to say that? I mean, this is a classic example of this-could’ve-been-a-phone-call. You don’t need to come all the way down here to thank me for saving you, we’re way past that. I never could’ve not saved you, we both know that.”
“Would you have rathered I called?”
“No.” Lance confessed to the waves, unable to lie.
He could feel Keith’s gaze on him now. He couldn’t face him, a rough mix of emotions that didn’t go well together fighting inside his chest. He was relieved, hurt, overwhelmingly in love.
“Can I ask you something?” Keith almost whispered.
“I mean, you already did, but yeah. Shoot.”
“Can I hold your hand?”
Lance turned abruptly, caught by the vulnerability in Keith’s eyes.
“Please” he breathed out in answer, turning his open palm towards the sky. Keith laced his fingers carefully with his, squeezed, as if gathering courage. His palm was warm, soothing.
“I think I get it now. What you were trying to say.”
“Please enlighten me about my wisdom. You’re lacking context.”
Keith shoved his shoulder lightly, huffing out a laugh.
“The future thing. I never… I don’t let myself wish one. But I do anyway, I think” he said, a truth hidden in the softness of his gaze.
Lance felt a lump rise in his throat. Keith didn’t let himself want a future, and Lance didn’t let himself have hope for this.
He couldn’t be what Keith needed, he couldn’t go back to being a soldier, and he wanted too much, he had always been that kind of person. Living off glimpses of Keith in small visits would never be enough for him.
“I can’t go back, Keith. I tried.”
Keith didn’t loosen his hold on his hand, not deterred a bit.
“I know.”
The sound of the waves and Keith’s grounding presence calmed Lance a bit.
“Is there a middle? Between this and here?” Lance asked.
“Between the stars and the Earth, you mean?”
“Between the war, and the battles and the impossible, crazy need we have to still be right in the middle of it, and you know” he paused, knowing he was about to be very forward. “The calm life we could have together, the sea and the sun and laughing without running for our lives.”
Keith’s breath hitched.
“Because I can’t return to that soldier life. I can’t. Not really. Not ever. But I want this.” Lance squeezed his hand. “I really want to see what we could be. I’m ready to go on some missions, I don’t think I could ever go back fully to a farm life anyway” he laughed. “God, I tried, it made me miserable.”
“You want… me?” Keith’s words almost got lost in the wind, but Lance caught them.
“Keith. Keith. I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”
“I don’t know anything else. I don’t have anything else.” Keith said, like a sin he had already repented for.
“Of course you do.” Lance tightened his hand around his. He brought their hands up between them and because now it was all out in the open, he let himself kiss his knuckles softly. God, he had wanted this.
He couldn’t help but smile. He felt like he had thrown himself in the open, like he had so many times before — first with Blue, then with Allura even though it hadn’t worked out for them, like he had with his apartment, with flying again.
Keith’s eyes shone in the brightness of the day, the sky glittering in them, so purple. Lance squeezed his hand firmly. It almost felt too similar to when he had been dying. Lance worked around the lump in his throat as he whispered.
“I’m tired of losing you.”
“I actually—” Keith cleared his throat. “I came because I figured it was my turn. To be brave. I thought that maybe, if you wanted to, it’d be my turn to live with you, to be on Earth for a while. I even made my bags and everything.”
Lance’s heart swelled in his chest.
“Why?”
Keith’s eyebrows pinched together as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I want to figure out what to do with myself too. I want to stop running. You… inspired me. And I want to be with you. If you’ll have me.” He paused. “Though I don’t really have anywhere else to stay, I was kind of counting on your place.”
“I can’t believe you planned to sleep with me for my apartment” Lance accused, false offended.
“I’m not— What the fuck, Lance, we’re not even—” Keith choked out.
“Not yet.”
“You’re insufferable” he said, face hot as he pushed him down in the sand. His touch lingered.
“But you love me” Lance answered, the teasing tone he tried to convey falling short a little.
“I do.”
Lance’s air left his lungs all at once at the words.
“What?”
Keith turned full to him, the sea forgotten by his side. The wind battered his hair in his face, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the raw intensity of his gaze, dark and round and honest. Lance answered the pull, rose his hand to brush his thumb across the pale skin on Keith’s cheekbone.
“I love you, Lance.”
Lance was transfixed. He pushed away the hairs flying in Keith’s eyes, he wanted to see him whole.
“Since when?” Because Lance couldn’t believe it even if some part of him must have known, because of course they both loved each other, how could it not make sense? But Lance was too much, felt too much, and he needed proof, a time stamp maybe on this love that matched the all-encompassing feeling he had. He was greedy.
“Since… I don’t know. Way too long. Way before that first phone call. I realized it on the space whale but when I came back you were with Allura and after…”
Lance couldn’t speak. Keith’s gaze wandered off.
“You don’t need to— It’s okay if it’s not the same for you or if it can’t be anything, I’ve always known that it wasn’t the same for—”
That unstuck Lance.
“Don’t even.” He threw his hand over Keith’s mouth to shut him up mid-sentence. He took it off and grazed Keith’s cheek instead, fingers hovering over his scar.
“I love you, Keith. It was pretty much implied when I said that I wanted you.” Keith’s eyebrows pinched together, disbelieving.
“Not that it’s a competition, but I’ve loved you for probably longer, I mean Veronica would be the one to say the exact time probably because I kept talking about you when I was at the garrison. I’ve always been chasing after you. You kept going where I couldn’t follow, and I hated that.”
Keith looked as if he’d been struck.
“I love you” Lance repeated, to drive the point home.
Suddenly, the urge to kiss him crashed into him. Lance wanted to kiss his face, his cheeks, his scar, his eyes, his cracked lips. God, he loved this man so much.
Keith beat him to it. He did it like he did everything else, rushing headfirst into it. His hand fell on Lance’s face, his calluses rough and his touch gentle on Lance’s jaw. Their lips touched and it was soft, it was like the rain, it tasted like the salty wind of the sea, and Lance wanted it again and again until he was dizzy.
They kissed on the beach until Rachel came back.
Even though she had been part of the plan to bring Keith to him, she pretended to be disgusted by their linked hands, by Lance’s easy smile that couldn’t leave him since they had kissed.
That night, when Lance unlocked the door to his apartment, Keith right behind him, it was as if everything had fallen into place. When Keith undid the laces to his combat boots to leave them in the entrance, it looked right.
When he woke up next to Keith, his hair like ink against the white of the pillow, and realised he could card his fingers through it, that he could touch him, it felt right.
As the months rolled by, as they stumbled through life and figured out slowly how to live, their past softened into a ragged, healed scar.
They didn’t notice. They were too focused on building their future.