lays tf down with his face on his lap, EXHAUSTED.
HIS BREATH GHOSTS THE CORNERS of his lips, lingering in soft surprise at the abruptness of weight now resting on his lap, but he doesn’t particularly mind the disturbance too much. one of his arms is draped across the back of his seat, the other quick to occupy itself by running through the hair at the base of lance’s neck. lance’s breathing is labored and choppy, jutting through the curve of his mouth, and keith’s words are presently wedged between his teeth. the silent gestures aren’t out of fear or hesitation, but rather out of his awareness in the lack of gentleness words would then create. the language in his eyes is in compliance with the adoration, and it’s lost in the sweat beginning to pool at the small of his back, grinding against the lining of his throat, a quiet hum playing against the shell of his ear.
just several moments prior, lance had finished sparring with shiro in the training room; allura and coran combined have been putting more emphasis on close combat and have asked the team to work on improving their personal performance in battle, due to their near failure in a previous mission to take back a small planet colonized by the galra, and the stress has been working against each paladin differently. keith, so far, has been extremely adept and his capability improves rapidly with each training exercise, mostly because he doesn’t want to disappoint the team. on the other hand, lance struggles with a lot of the maneuvers, although he’s growing to become a quick learner. for the most part, the both of them have frequently been training together in the comfort of solitude and in each other’s company, but recently keith had suggested that lance should practice with the drones on his own or begin to train with someone else; his reasoning for this suggestion is simple, really. not all combat situations are linear, and he feels it’s most important to be prepared for anything. shiro, naturally, was his first suggestion for a new sparring partner; he could vividly remember the look of sheer skepticism on lance’s face before it turned to mock confidence after keith made a comment about lance’s fear in taking shiro on. right now, he can feel the pressure that’s been placed on lance due to the circumstance, sweat causing his hair to stick to his skin, and he adjusts himself slightly in an effort to sit up straighter against the back of the couch to get more comfortable.
the heaviness in his lap is a welcomed warmth, keith’s once available hand now running up and down lance’s back softly, rubbing into his skin through the fabric of his jacket. touch isn’t something frequently initiated by keith; nonetheless, in the moment, it felt natural, and lance didn't appear to be disatissfied with it. they sit in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound breaking the tenderness being their breaths while lance adjusts his face slightly to give his mouth more accessibility, before lance decides to speak. ‘ dude, you should’ve warned me about shiro’s otherworldly strength before i walked in there. i don’t think i can feel my arms. ’ keith snorts, his fingers halting their movement momentarily, resuming after he feels a puff of air brush against his leg in response to keith’s gesture.
❛ i figured you made that assumption on your own a while ago. ❜
lance lets out a load groan, and keith’s lips curve upward; there’s a laugh underlining his tongue, but it doesn’t drape itself across the arch of his smile. his tone is suspended a little above a whisper.
❛ … stop opening your mouth. your chin keeps digging into my thigh. ❜
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