I knOW i’m so late with these and i’m super sorry, but still really want to participate, so…here we are.
This turned out a bit longer than expected, hahah.
Thanks to @klanceweek for making this themes/prompts! ^^
Only those with Galra blood can activate the blade
Only those with Galra blood-
He could feel the edges of his consciousness slipping away, black spots swimming taunting circles in his vision.
He couldn’t feel much. There was a sudden warmth, one that he couldn’t help but nestle into the moment he stepped out of Red, his legs collapsing under him.
There was a soft lull, a voice calling his name. Were he more alert, he’d notice the worry and fear glazing over the gentle sound, but as it was, he could only hope that it wouldn’t ever stop calling his name.
A grin split his lips before he could help himself.
Galra. Ruthless, murderous and rabid.
It sounded too much like him.
A splitting headache woke him up, his temples scorching with pain.
He made a move to sit up before a hand on his chest stilled him.
“Hey now, not so fast. You’ll hate yourself if you try and get up now.”
/I already do/ he thought, his voice refusing to coopoerate with him.
He gingerly opened his eyes, blue tinting his vision.
Lance’s gaze was focused onto him, bright eyes dulled with worry, dark circles ebbing under them.
He was sitting by Keith’s side, the hand on his chest yet to leave.
“How long was I out?” he croaked, barely recognising his own voice.
“A while. You were in a healing pod for a day, then slept through nearly a whole other one.”
Lance shrugged, the tone of his voice, usually loud and cheerful now sullen and grave.
Were you looking after me all this time?
He decided against asking that, the boy’s sunken figure being enough of an answer.
Slowly memories started coming back to him, one by one before surging like a thunderstorm in his chest.
The Blade of Marmora. The mission, The trials. His knife.
He felt Lance’s hand move to his forehead, pushing sweaty tuffs of hair away from his forehead.
What would they say when they found out? When they realized that one of their own belonged to the very same thing they were fighting against?
“You were running a bit of a fever. The healing pod got rid of it for the most part but you still feel a little warm. You feeling alright?”
What would he say when he found out?
Would the hand touching him jerk away once he learnt who Keith was-what he was?
Would he ever even concern himself with him, in rivarly or friendship?
Lance smiled, small and apologetic before taking his hand away and folding it back to his lap.
“Sorry, you would have probably preffered if Shiro was here wouldn’t you? I’ll go get him-”
He made to get up, a small shift before Keith folded over, gripping his wrist with enough force to tug him back down, toppling over beside him.
They both stilled for a moment, Lance’s eyes widening comically before shaking his head and smirking.
“I’ll take that as a no then?”
Keith said nothing, releasing his hold on lance and shifting away.
Everything burned and itch, his own skin like an uncomfortable cover over him, one that he wanted nothing more than to scratch off of his entire being.
Should he tell him? Should he tell anyone?
He knew Shiro knew-he had been there with him when he found out, after all.
Shiro was Shiro however-he was his friend, a brother, family. He’d probably be the only one who would accept him as it was, despite of what he was.
Did he deserve it though?
Lance cleared his throat besides him, his back still facing the tan boy.
“So, I know your whole aesthetic is based on being moody and emo,” he snickered, Keith ignoring the comment-there was no energy in him to fight back, “but this is broodiness on a whole other level. Is, um, is everything alright?”
He remained silent, only shifting to cower further away and near the wall by his bed, slowly realizing they were in his room.
“Look, you know you can talk to me right? Not just me if you don’t want to, but like, the whole team. We’re here for you.”
His shoulders started aching with the quiver he was trying to repress, his breath hitching.
“I know I put up this whole rivals act but you know it’s just teasing yeah? We’re…friends, aren’t we?”
Are we? Will we be after this?
Is this all we can be? another, smaller voice peeked in, bringing a ringing to his ears. No, now wasn’t the time to think about this, about how nice it’d be to have a pair of blue eyes look at him in adoration, how his heart thumped with the close proximity they were in.
He could’t afford to think of that, not when he was so close to losing it entirely.
“Keith, buddy. Talk to me.”
Lance shook his shoulder, his face dangerously close to the side of Keith’s neck.
He turned at that, coming face to face with the most solemn expression he’d ever seen on the other boy.
There was a moment of hesitation, of just looking at one another, Keith’s mind running a million thoughts per minute before settling into the one that stood out the most.
Fuck it. If I’m going down, it’ll be in a blaze.
He bridged the small distance between them, already close enough to feel the other’s breath onto his cheek, before snaking a hand to the back of Lance’s neck, his fingers gripping at soft tuffs of hair and pulling him down, smacking his lips to his.
It was chaste, a quick peck of lips before he tugged him back as quickly as he could, his face reddening all the way to his ears.
Lance’s lips stuttered, his eyes widening enough to worry Keith, thinking he broke something in the boy’s mind. His hands gave out under him, the elbows supporting him sinking into the matress, his face meeting the pillows.
The boy groaned, bringing a finger in the air to signal that he needed a moment.
Keith shifted, slowly sitting up and leaning his back against the wall, curling into himself.
Lance moved, sitting up to his knees and turning to face Keith.
He took a big breath, shutting his eyes before looking back up.
“Let me get this straight.”
He gulped but nodded again, tightening his greep onto his knees.
“Half-Galra, at least. I discovered it at the Blade of Marmora.” he offered, refusing to meet Lance’s face.
“And you…you ki-” he coughed, hiding his face in his hands, “Why?”
Keith looked up at that, taking notice of the blush on Lance’s cheeks and neck, the reddening skin matching his own.
“I figured you’re going to hate me anyway so…might as well do something I’ve been meaning to do for a while.”
“For-for a while?!” he squealed behind his fingers, before taking them away from his face in favor of grabbing Keith’s, the boy flinching at the speed.
“Wait, wait, hate you? Keith why would I do that?!”
“I literally just told you I’m half-Galra. Isn’t that enough reason to hate me?”
He clicked his tongue, trying to tug his hands free from Lance’s grip and failing.
“I’m part of the aliens we’re fighting against! I’m one of them Lance!”
There were tears in his eyes now, freely falling, making Lance’s figure hazy.
“Are you one of them? Because the Keith I know is nothing like them.”
“I’m just like them.” he whispered, voice hoarse, “I’m just as vile and horrible.”
“You’re nothing like them. You’re a stubborn mullet-head with zero fashion taste and a temper worse than my old as heck car’s engine-”
Keith snorted at that, annoyed with Lance’s nonchalant attitude towards the whole ordeal, but a finger to his lips shushed him before he could reply.
“-But, you’re still you. You’re gentler thany you let on, put hard work and dedication to anything you do. You’re loyal and care so much about others, even if you show it in your own way. You’d rather die than hurt those you love. You have a sense of responsibility that’s nearly as much as Shiro’s!”
He tried to shake his head, cower back to his knees, but Lance’s hand found it’s way under his chin, keeping him on eye level with him, tears slowly clearing.
“You’re nothing like them Keith. You’re strong-willed and passionate, and your own person. You’re not like them. Not in the least bit.”
“And even if you were,” Lance shrugged after a moment, wiping tears off of his cheek with his thumb, “You’d be one of the coolest most awesome purply Galras ever! Like the Blade guys! They’re cool right?” he grinned, leaning back to give Keith some space.
Lance smiled, grinning wide when he noticed the smile playing on Keith’s lips, more genuuine than ever. Keith hoped he could also see the adoration in his eyes, the pure honest feelings he held for Lance, even if he could only barely admit them with words.
“You literally just kissed this dork.” he beamed, pointing to himself.
“I’d like to do that again, by the way.”
Lance faltered, his cocky facade replaced with a blushing mess of a boy.
“If you’re up for it, of course.”
He relished in the way Lance gazed away, pursing his lips and scooting closer to Keith adter a moment of deliberation.
“I mean, if you really want to…”
Keith snorted and took a hold of the back of Lance’s head, never getting used to the feel of his soft hair, the bright eyes looking back at him, the soft look reserved for him.
He wondered why he ever worried in the first place.
Scarred or battered, upset or not, Galra or whatever-he was Keith.
He was part of this team.
He kissed Lance again, soft and slow in contrast to their first try, and realised he’d never feel more at home than he did in that moment.
The boy hummed, his face hidden into Keith’s chest, the fabric of his shirt muffling the sound.
Lance peeked back up with a devilish smirk.
“For making out with you?”
He tapped the back of Lance’s head, rolling his eyes.
“For what you said. I don’t know how the rest of the team will take the news but…thank you. For accepting me.”
“They all love you and you know it. A little thing like being half purply and alien won’t change that.” he smiled, and even through the light-heartedness, Keith knew he meant every single word.
He smiled and went back to rubbing soft circles onto Lance’s back, noticing how smooth his skin felt under his rough hands.
It was his turn to hum a soft, non-commital response.
“Can you say it once more?”
“What you said after kissing me. That you’re…?”
Keith scrunched his eyebrows.
Lance peeked up and nodded, putting his hands under his chin.
Keith cocked his head but complied, wondering where this was heading.
Lance scooted out of the bed before yelling what Keith would swear would be his last words.
“Nice to meet you Galra-”
“Don’t you fucking dare make a dad joke out of this or I swear I’ll throw you off the bed-”
He run after the laughing boy, aches and strains be damned.
He wondered how he ever fell in love with such a nerd.
Surprise! You expected angst? Nope! :D
I intended to write this as much longer and angstier but only had like an hour between studying so, here we are. ;u;
