Lance grabs Keith’s face in his hands, to hold him steady, to make sure he doesn’t try to run. His bangs are matted to his face from sweat and dirt; too many scrapes are scattered across his skin. He limps with a sprained ankle, though they’re standing still for now, and while it’s covered, Lance knows there must be a smattering of dark bruises forming on Keith’s back from when he was thrown into a wall. After pushing Lance out of the way.
Keith should feel lucky his spine didn’t snap.
The rest of their team graciously decided to give them the space they needed, having seen the fury in Lance’s eyes. And the way his jaw tightened as he constantly watched Keith and held onto him tight the entire trip back to the castle.
Maybe Lance should save the discussion for when Keith’s healed, a little more stable on his feet, but if he holds it in any longer, he’ll burst.
Lance wipes a bit of dirt off Keith’s cheek before he finally speaks. His voice is low even though they’re the only ones in the hangar. “Don’t do that to me. You give me a heart attack every time.”
“You don’t control me,” Keith says, voice rough. His mouth pinches as he shifts his body to stand more soundly on his good foot.
“I also don’t ask you to sacrifice yourself for me. I was handling it.”
“They were going to kill you!”
“You could have died too!” Lance practically yells. His hands wrap in Keith’s hair, bringing him forward until their foreheads touch. “I--I can’t have you dying for me.”
“And I don’t want you to die,” Keith says softly, eyes closed now. His breathing is a little more even.
Lance huffs out a short, humorless laugh. “Checkmate, I guess.”
Keith sighs, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, Lance? That I’m fine with watching the person I love die or get seriously injured when I could’ve prevented it?”
Mouth parting to argue, Lance quickly thinks better of it and concedes. “No, and I would be such a hypocrite if I said anything else.”
Keith stares at him for a long moment before moving in to hug him. Hands splayed on Lance’s back, his warmth spreads throughout Lance’s body even with all their armor on, and Lance’s breath catches for a moment in surprise. Keith ducks his head into the crook of Lance’s neck, his breath dancing across Lance’s skin.
“I’m not sorry I pushed you out of the way,” Keith begins honestly after a moment. “I’ll never be sorry for saving you. No matter how injured it gets me, even if it causes me my life. But I know how you feel because I get the same way when the situation is reversed. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“The problem,” Lance mumbles into Keith’s hair. Even though they’ve just been through a battle, Lance can still detect the faint scent of his shampoo. It calms him. “Is that we’re both self-sacrificing idiots. One of us needs to be more selfish.”
Lance’s heart stutters when he feels Keith’s laugh against his skin, and a soft smile appears on his face, though Keith can’t see it. That feels good.
Stepping back, Keith holds out his pinky. “How about a promise to be more careful in battle instead.”
It’s a flaky promise to make, Lance knows--and he sure Keith does too--but it provides some baseline foundation now. It may break in a week, a month, a year. In some battle where Keith--or anyone on their team--is about to die and Lance jumps this time. Lance isn’t stupid. War is unpredictable and violent. He knows he won’t always be able to protect Keith just as Keith may not be able to protect him. But Lance will take the time he has now, be grateful for all the battles they walk away from. Because no matter what happens or what injuries they may obtain, those are the real victories.
And if Lance can’t handle it, then he shouldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with someone in the middle of a war.
Lance hooks his pinky with Keith’s. “Promise,” he says, looking straight in his eyes. “Now, let’s get you to a healing pod.”
Keith smiles, but Lance can tell it’s pained--the painkillers Coran administered must be wearing off now. “Yeah, that would be great.” Keith drapes an arm over Lance’s shoulder, heavily leaning against him for support, and Lance wraps an arm around his waist. It’s a slow walk to the med-bay, but they make it.
They’re both scarred and a little bent but not broken. They survived today and that is something to celebrate.
