If Not For You
(CW: finished, sparring, realizing feelings, confessions, implied sexual content, “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” extremely inexperienced Keith, “I’ve been in love with you the whole time” Lance)
“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Keith doesn’t just falter—he’s pretty sure his heart stops in his chest. Lance is only goading him, it’s obvious from the look in his eye and the sweat on his brow. He’s about to lose this sparring match and lose it big: one sweep of Keith’s leg should send him straight to his ass, but now…
Now Keith can’t even move.
And it’s not so much that it’s true than it’s Keith realizing it’s true, because he genuinely didn’t know. He’d had no idea he felt that way until the words left Lance’s mouth and the pieces all suddenly clicked into place, a bigger, brighter picture right in front of him he. How he hadn’t seen it before is beyond him—it seems like the kind of thing he should know about himself before anyone else does, and yet, here they are.
Lance it right to him.
Offhandedly.
Unintentionally.
The blue Paladin (he’ll always be blue, at least to Keith) finally finds his footing and with a startling amount of force, sends Keith flying backwards into the mat, ending the sparring match but beginning something much, much worse.
Or better?
No—no, definitely worse.
“What was that?” he pants, gesturing to Keith on the floor, “You let me win.”
No touting his victory. No taunting Keith for falling for it. He’s confused, maybe even offended.
He’s so much more mature now than he used to be, Keith thinks, which is a thought he’s had pretty much every day since they ran off to space together. Guess that’s just another thing he didn’t really notice happening. for such a loud-mouthed ass, Lance has accomplished a lot of things very quietly.
Dying, maturing, making Keith want to kiss him.
Well, maybe the dying thing wasn’t so secret since Allura was there and brought him back to life, but still.
Still.
“I…” Keith starts weakly, but he doesn’t have a clue what to follow it up with. His brain is rather occupied now, all filled up with daydreams about kissing the man in front of him.
Fuck.
Lance’s brow furrows. The sole of his boot connects with Keith’s chest and sends his back to gently the mat, the pressure heavy but not harmful. Lance’s knees pop softly as he crouches down into some sort of lunge thing, an effortless pose to him that would have Keith’s hamstrings snapped in half before he made it anywhere close to the ground—
“I was just kidding, dude,” Lance says, reaching forward to ruffle the sweaty bangs at the front of Keith’s face, making a mess of them before combing them back and away, “Sorry if I, like, offended you or something. I just—“
“I do.”
Lance quiets. The crease of his brows deepens.
“What?”
“I do… want to kiss you,” Keith croaks, feeling the flush of embarrassment crawling up his neck to the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears, “That bad.”
Because what else is there to do now but say so? He has this aching feeling in his chest like maybe he’s always wanted to, and if that’s the case, he’s damn sure waited long enough. And maybe those marks under Lance’s eyes should dissuade him, or the possibility that this will make things awkward between the two of them for a while, but fuck. Who cares?
It’ll be worth it all for the small chance that maybe Lance wants to kiss him back.
“You—are you—I mean do you—hold on, pause,” Lance responds, stumbling over his words in a way Keith finds way too adorable. Lance removes his foot from Keith’s chest and folds it underneath him, thighs now bracketing Keith’s waist.
“Lance—“
“Why? Since when? I thought you, like, hated me, dude. All we do is fight, even now! I mean, we’ve been traveling together for almost a year and this morning we almost killed each other over toothpaste. Toothpaste! How could you possibly—“
Lance’s disbelief quiets abruptly as Keith’s hands fit over his thighs, lightly kneading the muscle there as he stares and stares and stares at tanned flesh, broken up only by these cobalt blue running shorts Keith knows now he only hates so much because he loves them. They look so fucking good on Lance, his color, especially when he’s wearing nothing else like he is now.
Christ, Keith is so fucking oblivious.
“Hey—my eyes are up here, asshole,” Lance snaps, arms folding across his chest. Keith’s gaze flicks up.
Lance’s annoyance drops into some sort of deer-in-headlights look.
“Sorry,” Keith mumbles, not sorry at all, “You were saying?”
Lance opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again, at a loss. Keith slides his hands up, bunching up those perfect shorts and grabbing Lance by the hips.
“You… since when—“
“I don’t know,” Keith answers honestly, struggling to hold Lance’s gaze as the younger man twitches a bit in his grasp—he wants to watch, wants to see if he’s getting any sort of… reaction, “Maybe forever.”
But if Lance wants to look him in the eyes, so be it.
“Forever?! Keith—“
“I want you,” Keith interrupts, eyes finally flicking down again, heart soaring to find he’s definitely not the only one wanting— “I think I always have.”
Lance peeps out the tiniest little squeak, but doesn’t seem to able to form any proper protest.
This is definitely not how Keith thought this morning’s sparring session would go, but he’s definitely not complaining.
“Keith, I…”
“I don’t have any way to…” Keith burns hot—fuck you is the first phrase that comes to mind, but it feels almost too vulgar in this moment despite the circumstances— “…top, I guess, but I’m not… you can do me… if you’re into that.”
“If I’m into that—fucking quiznack, Keith, I’d have to be a fucking monk to… are you sure about this. Is this really… I mean, what does this mean? Like, you’re into me or it’s just a physical thing or—“
“I probably love you,” Keith responds sheepishly, because when it all comes down to it, it’s the only answer feels true. He feels for Lance intensely—he wouldn’t have agreed to travel the cosmos with him if he didn’t. And if Keith wants to kiss him and see different galaxies with him and share all his meals with him and have him in that way—the way they’re so desperately close to giving in to—then it seems pretty clear that Keith loves him.
He doesn’t know when it happened, and he doesn’t know how he missed it, but it’s true.
Lance is gaping at him like a fish.
“You don’t have to say it back, or anything,” Keith tacks on, just for good measure, “I just realized tod—“
Lance shoves at his chest, hard.
“You stupid fucking idiot, of course I love you. I’ve been obsessed with you since we were fourteen, asshole—I confided in you about missing my family like hell and then I ran right back into space to be with you! Every day I wake up and ask myself what the fuck am I doing up here and then I get my hands on the flight controls and see your stupid fucking face and the ache is worth it. Obviously, I’m in love with you. I said I thought you were the future. What else could that even mean?!”
Lance pants above him, and it’s Keith’s turn to be at a loss. Here he was, thinking he was having some life-altering revelation that Lance already had at seventeen.
He loved him.
The whole time.
“But… you said we were rivals—“
“You didn’t even know who I was, Keith,” Lance says, shaking his head, “You were… I mean, I thought you were so cool. I wanted to be something to you, even if it was just that.”
Keith swallows.
“What about… I mean, what about Allura?”
“What about Allura?” Lance echoes, reaching up to touch at the marks she left on his face, “I loved her—that’s kind of what I do, fall in love with people, but… it’s really hard to admit this now, and it feels really shitty and cheap, but… we were each others’ second choice. You… you’ve always been it, for me. She would’ve taken Lotor over me if given the chance. That’s life. And if I knew you…”
He comes up short. Keith’s struck with disbelief, but also… some sort of ugliness. Resentment at himself, sympathy for Lance—if he had put two and two together sooner, Lance wouldn’t have had to endure the same amount of heartbreak. Then again, Allura would have spent her last few days alive alone, so maybe it’s all for the better.
He still feels guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ve never… I didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like.”
Lance doesn’t say anything, just reaches down to touch Keith’s face, fingers tracing over the Galran mark on his right cheek.
“No, it’s not your fault, I just… I didn’t think…“
“You could teach me,” Keith offers, reaching up to catch Lance’s wrist, tugging a little until his fingers creep over Keith’s lips, parting them gently, “…l’m a quick learner.”
And he honestly means it pretty innocently—the kisses he’s placing on the pads of Lance’s fingers are suggestive, yes, but he really does mean it. He wants to know this feeling, wants to know how Lance knew what it was, wants to experience a romantic sort of intimacy so he can tell the difference between the things he knows and this unintelligible thing in front of him. Where did he go wrong? How did he not notice?
It makes him nervous to not know what happens next, but also… it’s Lance. Lance who always steers him in the right direction. Lance who quiets all the doubts he has about himself. Lance who thinks his alien-genes are some cosmic path to universal peace.
He’s safe, here.
Of course he is.
“We can do that without… I mean, quiznack, Keith, I can’t believe you want me to…” Lance’s eyes flutter shut and his chin tips back as though in prayer— “Dios mio, I’m so unprepared for this.”
Keith gently presses the flat of Lance’s palm to his chest, right over his heart.
“And you think I am?” he asks, “I didn’t realize I wanted to kiss you until you told me I did. I love you and I didn’t notice. I’ve never even kissed anyone, let alone—“
“You’re a virgin?!” Lance all but shrieks, wrenching his hand back from Keith’s chest like he’s been burned— “Oh my god, you can’t have your first kiss and lose your virginity in the same day, are you crazy?! There’s, like, a whole process to these things—like hand holding at the movies and rose bouquets and promise rings and—“
“I don’t want any of that, idiot,” Keith interrupts, “I just want you.”
Lance groans, and flops forward, forehead dropping to where his hand had been. Keith takes the opportunity to feel up his sides, then up his back. Lance’s hands reach around to thread through Keith’s hair, and he sighs at the sensation. He’s never been touched this way—it’s good.
Really good.
“Do you at least… know what you like? Have you—“
“Yes,” Keith says quickly, cheeks feeling hot again at what Lance is implying.
“Fuck, okay, that’s… good. Totally not picturing it, or anything—ow!”
“Stop.”
“Picturing it? Keith, don’t you literally want me to—“
“Lance, shut the fuck up and kiss me already.”
Lance lifts his head. Keith raises his eyebrows.
“Are you sure?”
“Please.”
Lance huffs, but his annoyance melts away when he puts his hand on Keith’s face and his chin tips upwards willingly—eagerly, even. He leans forward again, this time at the right height and able and they finally, finally meet right in the middle.
Something in Keith’s chest explodes.
It’s mad dash from there—desperate mouths and clawing hands, clothes haphazardly discarded along the short journey to their bunks. At some point Kosmo comes along to see what the commotion is, but he is quickly shut out of the room. Keith feels a little bad about it, but he’d almost rather die than have sex for the first time in front of his alien dog.
The world blurs into bliss.
I love you.
Are you sure?
You’re so fucking pretty, baby.
Feel good?
And it’s a mess, of course, because it’s them, but it’s a beautiful mess that might actually be nirvana.
Keith wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t know where this came from and it’s kinda garbage but it’s also kinda sweet so here you go.
