Work Text:
“Keith!” Lance calls into the living room, dragging out the vowels.
Travel days are always a bit boring. He’s grateful for the free time, but there’s only so many hobbies you can have upkeep for on a space ship. Lance has exhausted his time with everyone else today and the only person left is Keith. It’s like Keeping Up with the Kardashians except with the six other people he knows, sometimes Lance will even narrate for funsies.
Keith and Lance’s “relationship” is a work in progress. Lance likes to call it Operation Boyfriend or Operation Catch Feelings , he’s still workshopping the name. Even though Pidge calls him a coward for not confessing himself. There’s a process to this. Lance is 87% sure the feelings are reciprocated. He needs to get a feel of the waters before he makes his move.
And overpreparedness never hurts anyone!
Lance is taking it one high-five and intimate bandaging session at a time. Liking someone for a whole year makes a person a bit of an expert. Lance is an expert on Keith and his Keithness and how to translate and tackle. His method is simple: If you can’t kiss them, bother them. Or whatever the saying is.
Keith doesn’t answer his shout. His back is turned to Lance, clearly too busy scribbling away on his holopad, bright orange headphones standing out against his dark hair. Probably listening to space punk rock or something.
There’s papers and files scattered onto the table and somehow Keith has hoarded two other holopads in here. It’s a mess. Lance doesn’t even know what he could be working on that needs this much stuff.
His curiosity gets the best of him. Sneakily, Lance reaches over the couch and plucks one of the notes next to him.
The reaction is immediate. Keith whirls around the couch, eyes wide in panic, reaching for the note. “Give it back!”
“Woah! Relax, dude–it’s just me!” Lance exclaims. He holds his hands up in surrender, glancing at the note. Keith would have to run around the couch in order to catch Lance—no chance that’s happening. “It’s not like it’s your password, emo—”
His sentence trails off, his arms lowering as Lance reads the note.
To buy:
Holopad connecters, juice pouch (blue), blorangberry, mineral oils
Get those “chips” that Lance likes (hlony flavor) / or rock candy / also sjif dip???
Lance can feel the heat rise to his cheeks. Everything on this grocery list is something Lance has mentioned to Keith. It’s all his favorite flavors and snacks or stuff he’s been wanting. The last time he had those chips was weeks ago and Keith remembered.
And Keith hated that flavor.
Oh.
The realization settles into Lance’s chest warmly, heart swelling at the gesture. Keith’s face is tomato red, his headphones slumped haphazardly onto his neck now, his eyes wide and horrified. Lance has to play his cards right now. Operation Boyfriend is a go!
He gapes at Keith with an excited grin. “You’re a secret softie! I knew it!” Lance yells, throwing his arms into the air.
There’s a hint of relief in Keith’s face and electricity ignites Lance’s entire body, thrumming up his veins. This is all the confirmation he needs.
“What the hell? No, I’m not,” Keith protests.
Lance nods, exasperated. “Yeah, you’re a big softie.” He waves the grocery list in Keith’s face. “The evidence says otherwise, Keithy boy! You’re like a marshmallow.” Lance squishes his fingers over his eye, like he’s squishing Keith’s head.
“How is it soft to write a grocery list?! It’s just a list of stuff,” Keith deflects. He turns around fully now, kneeling on the couch cushions to lean over the back, face to face with Lance now.
“This is all about me !” Lance exclaims. “You think you’re so slick with your emo mullet and your sword and your stuff everywhere.” He points over to the scattered papers. “But I know the truth now.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no.”
“Yeah, yes,” Lance retorts, eyes sparkling. “Who knew our red paladin had such a sweet side?”
The blush on Keith’s face darkens. “Shut up!” Keith frowns with not much malice and punches Lance’s arm. He doesn’t make any move to leave or yell at Lance, just stays there accepting it all.
“Ow! You can’t force me into silence!” Lance yelps, faking an injury and rubbing at his elbow. Lance bows forward, bravely taking a step forward to the couch. “I caught you y’know. Fair and square. It’s really sweet though,” he admits.
There’s a pause, like Keith is trying to play his own game, trying to piece together what he says next. He smirks, “Figured I’d get the gross flavors for you before you made me try them again.”
“Hey! They’re good! And I know you like some of those, liar!”
Keith makes a face. “Those chips are the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Lance gasps again, offended. That familiar rhythm between them is comforting, something Lance always falls onto and even looks for these days. He teeters on the balls of his feet gleefully. “You like me,” Lance teases, smiling brightly.
“I’ve got my corkboard. I can still convince you otherwise,” Keith assures. His smile is just as wide as Lance’s, the apple of his cheeks look sweet, red.
“Yeah, I know you do, moth man.” Lance shakes his head amusedly. He has seen and heard plenty of Keith and Pidge’s conspiracy board. Well, it’s more of a wall now. “I’m not bigfoot, y’know.”
“More like big mouth”
Lance doesn’t have time to grumble at the insult as he catches Keith’s eyes darting down to Lance’s lips. Their closeness is striking, like the gap is loud somehow, highlighted by the couch between them.
It’s always the two of them, shooting for the stars as a team, moving as one. There isn’t any hesitation when they come together for their first kiss. Keith’s lips are soft, just like his squishy heart, Lance thinks. Keith closes the space there even further, grabbing Lance’s hand, skin calloused and a little sweaty. It’s the best kiss ever.
When Lance pulls away, he rests his forehead against Keith’s, squeezing their hands together. He resists leaning in and kissing Keith all over again, sealing his taste on Lance’s lips. “I can’t believe you punched me and said I had a big mouth before you kissed me,” Lance hums.
“I still kissed your mouth.” Keith shrugs. He quickly swipes the note out of Lance’s hand, tucking it into his jacket pocket. “I’m going to need this back now. Thanks.”
“Wha–” Keith shuts him up with another kiss.