Lance and Ryan take a moment together, as the Earth rebuilds itself, and life continues on.
ao3
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It had taken the better part of the day, but Lance had finally finished cleaning the majority of the room he’d been assigned to.
The floor was clean, now, chairs neatly packed and stacked to the sides. The countertops, what remained, wiped down and in need of a little rebuilding. At the center, Lance leaned his palms, one over the other, and cushioned his chin on top of his broom handle and smiled a little wistfully. He knew this place. He’d come here with Marco, Luis, and Veronica as kids.
His grandparents had come here a lot when they’d packed their family up and moved. They’d come here, swaying to music on the dance floor Lance was roving his eyes over, picturing the way his grandparents must have twirled each other. He could remember joining hands with his siblings, forming a circle, and pulling at each other until they got dizzy and fell, laughing and laughing.
It seemed as good as any place to help with rebuilding, big and quiet, and close to his heart. The destruction he’d walked into had pulled something nasty in Lance’s gut. It had taken a little searching, but Lance had found the old place again, under the mess, and had lovingly raised it with his hands. Ironic considering the way he’d gripped at Red’s control, his bayard not that long ago.
It would have probably gone faster with more hands, but Lance had wanted to be alone. Ever since he’d come back, it’d been hard to find a moment to breathe. He had missed his family like crazy, but there were times, after being surrounded by his comrades for as long as he had, he had gotten used to enjoying quiet moments alone.
He couldn’t help a snort at that.
To think, a couple months - years? - back, he would have gone crazy at the thought of being alone for too long, always used to someone in his space at all times. His families hands and voices pulling at him, the hum of ever present noise and movement all around him. He could sleep through just about everything, back then. Came with the perks of a naturally lively household.
Now, though, Lance enjoyed the quiet moments. He knew it confused his family. He’d changed so much, and he wasn’t sure how much of his old self had even remained. Enough to fall back into step the moment he’d dropped his bags in his old rooms when the hospitals had released him, and had moved around in perfect tandem with his mother in the kitchen, albeit a little creakily on his prosthetics. Sometimes, not so much. When he got too quiet at the dinner table, tucked away alone at times, palms itching for his bayard.
A door creaked open and slowly creaked back shut. In the quiet, a pair of boots echoed on the floors; Lance looked over his shoulder. His brows jumped to his hairline, though his lips quirked into a grin not that long after. A familiar pair of lips softly grinned back. Kinkade. Ryan, Lance affectionately thought.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lance greeted.
Kinkade stopped a short ways away, arms crossing. He looked around, dark eyes appraising Lance’s handiwork, giving it a thoughtful hum. Lance couldn’t help the way his grin got bigger.
“Not bad,” Kinkade said. “Kogane joked that you’d end up getting fed up and take a nap halfway through.”
Lance scoffed, laughing a little. Keith wasn’t wrong. Halfway through he had gotten tired and dozed accidentally in one of the ratty couches. He’d snored too loud and woken himself up, jumping back into action. But Keith didn’t need to know that. When he saw Keith later, though, he knew his friend would be able to tell instantly, and part of him was eager for the chance to playfully argue about it.
“Keith also thinks green ketchup is good,” Lance teased.
Kinkade shook his head, playfully rolling his eyes. Lance couldn’t even begin to tell when they’d gotten so comfortable with each other. One moment they’d been awkward mission buddies, and the next Kinkade was zeroing Lance out in a crowd, eagle eyes sharp, in only a fellow sharpshooter should be. They’d gravitate towards each other, Lance a little more obviously, and Kinkade, seemingly smooth in a way that made it seem like he was just circling his way around and had, as always, just ended up next to Lance. A brush of hands became pinkies intertwined, had become palms pressed together, and ducked heads and soft words murmured low and secret.
Like he’d come to do, Kinkade reached out for one of Lance’s hands, then took the other. The broom clattered to the floor loudly, but Lance was too busy smiling and being pulled in towards the other boy’s body to bother to react. Kinkade pressed a kiss to his knuckles, shyly looking away, as always Lance gleefully thought, as Lance returned the favor. It had become something of a thing between whatever was developing between them, and Lance was never going to give it up.
“Hey, RyRy, did you know this used be a prime dancing spot?” Lance asked.
Kinkade quirked a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yup,” Lance popped the p. He hooked his arms loosely around Kinkade’s shoulders. “My grandparents came here, and my parents came here, just to cut a rug. Even Marco brought his wife here when they were dating. Got a bit of McClain family charm weaved in, ya know?”
Kinkade lazily cupped his hands together at the small of Lance’s back, bracketing Lance’s hips between them. Gently, he shifting Lance into a sway, teeth peeking out in a teasing grin as Lance took a step back, excited when Kinkade naturally followed. His prosthetic still felt weird, foreign against his body. If he stumbled a bit, Kinkade would shift, hands sliding to his hips almost naturally, until Lance had rebalanced, then draped his arms loosely again. For every step, forward or back, they swayed, slow and easy and in sync.
“Bit of a mess now, though,” Kinkade mused. “Never been here, to be honest. Make sure you show me when it’s all fixed up.”
Lance tapped at the back of his neck, waggling his eyebrows when Kinkade shook his head, bending down to press their foreheads together.
“You’ll be the first person I tell the minute it’s all ready to go,” Lance said.
Kinkade nodded. “Good.”
Lance tucked his head under Kinkade’s chin, pressing his face into the curve of his neck, humming out an gentle tune. There was still a lot of cleaning left to do, other rooms to salvage, but it could wait a little while longer. They could stay here and dance a little while more.
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AN: AU-ish. Written to Billie Holiday’s “I'll Be Seeing You”. Its kind of canon-y, written with a bit of “post ww2-ish sweethearts” as the inspo for this. Idk how to explain. But Lance loses his legs. He’s still learning to walk with it. Ngl it’s really fake deep LOL. I can’t remember the post, but someone mentioned that only Lance (and I imagine his family) call Kinkade Ryan. While Lance used a bunch of different variations. RyRy is my favorite.
Tbh, this wouldn’t be a bad Adashi AU, either.
Should I post this on AO3? Would anyone want that?
