Lance turned it around with a contemplative frown. "Uhhh… Well. We could claim it's toothpaste?" He offered weakly before actually looking at Keith - sweaty and hair-mussed and covered in hickeys. Just like anyone who just woke up brush their goddamned teeth. "Or. Oh shit, did we leave our jackets back in the training room?"
Keith had to stop halfway in the act of pulling his disgusting shirt on to bury his face in his hands.
They snuck back to the training deck without running into anyone, which was actually pretty logical considering the actual size of the castle. Keith pulled on his jacket, both of them stopping to observe how it did absolutely nothing to cover up the stain streaking across the belly of his shirt and soaked through on the other side.
"That's - okay this is not acceptable," Lance sighed, abandoning the act of pulling on his own coat halfway through to sling it over Keith's shoulders haphazardly. "You can't go walking around looking like a porno advertisement, and at least mine zips... up…" His words trailed off when he watched Keith actually take the jacket, slipping his own red one off and handing it to Lance as he pulled his arms through the soft sweater-lined material of Lance's looser coat. Keith looked up at Lance curiously, only to see that his normally hazel skin had gone atomic red with a blush. "Jesus dude, you are deadly to my health, you know that?!" He gestured to… All of Keith. "How am I even supposed to deal with this?!"
Keith looked down at himself in confusion, shrugging one side of the jacket back up where it had been sliding down one shoulder. Once again, he had no idea what Lance was going on about. "Deal with what?"
Lance smacked a hand to his forehead. "Nevermind." He shook his head. "It's nothing; you're adorable. Go take a goddamned shower before my mind explodes." He gave Keith a light shove towards the door, and even though their rooms were only a few hallways away from each other they ended up separating almost immediately, one short parting kiss before they wandered off in separate directions in search of cleanliness.
Keith stood in the shower for longer than he normally did, letting the hot… uh… Clear Altean water substitute that smelled lightly of juniper leaves run over his body while he stared vacantly at the soft white walls of the bathroom. Eventually he shook himself out of it, washing his face and hair with the soaps Lance and Allura had given him and kept repeatedly asking if he was using, because at least if he got on board with this "good hygiene" thing they keep railing about everyone would finally stop calling him a greasy Jawa.
Every room in the castle that possessed a shower in it also contained an Altean washing machine. Keith was not sure what, exactly, an Altean washing machine was or how it worked, but it was about the size of a waste paper basket and steam-cleaned your clothes to professional cleanliness in less time than it took to actually bathe. He put his freshly-purged shirt back on with a tired little sigh, leaving his jeans in favor the small indulgence of a pair of Altean pajama pants he'd been given by Coran. It had taken ages to get used to the castle, but now even when they were landed Keith was finally comfortable enough here to feel safe sleeping unarmed - a luxury he hadn't always been granted in his life.
He stepped out of the bathroom back into his small adjoining bedroom. He looked around the room, feeling a little awkward and uncertain for reasons he couldn't name. Well shit. What was he supposed to do now? Should he just… Go to bed? It seemed early for that. Or, no, it seemed weird to do that. He sat down heavily on his bed. His hand twitched with the need to do something, and Keith ended up rubbing at his lightly-bruised wrist absent-mindedly.
Lance's jacket was sitting on the foot end of the bed, strewn lazily where Keith had tossed it on his way to the bathroom. He picked it up now, running fingers along the worn fleece lining of the empty coat, the only coherent thought forming in the swirling fog of his brain being that it smelled like Lance.
The same scent Keith had just finished washing off of his body. He felt his face heat up red again, remembering all of the dirty-awful-wonderful things they'd just done together. Holy shit. Holy shit, Keith had just lost his virginity. Was this… Was this normal? That it had just sort of happened like that, no real thought or planning involved? Was that how it happened for everyone? Keith figured it probably actually was. Sometimes girls had the time and location and situation planned out ahead, but he was pretty sure for the most part sex tended to happen spontaneously. So, this was normal. Keith was normal. Feeling like this was… Probably normal.
And how DID he feel, anyway? Keith wasn't even sure. Satisfied, but at the same time, sort of… Empty. It wasn't that he felt like something was wrong, or regretted what they'd done. Far from it, the fresh memories rolling around in his head carried warmth and contentment with them, it was just… It was right now. Sitting in his room alone, holding his boyfriend's coat and probably only seconds away from doing something pathetic like using it as a pillow to sleep or bringing it up to his nose to smell like a schoolgirl with her sweetheart's letterman. This hollow, lonely feeling that was getting so oppressive Keith could almost choke on it, and suddenly he was frozen. Frozen like earlier when he'd been too afraid of absolutely nothing to reach out and take his boyfriend's hand, tense and shaking and lonely and so, so goddamned confused. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just… stop feeling like this and be normal again? Why couldn't he move?
Keith felt his fingers curl into the jacket, grip so tight he might just tear finger-shaped little holes in the fabric. Just that tiny bit of motion was the thread Keith needed to grab onto, dropping the heavy coat from his hands like it was a lead weight and shooting up to stand to his feet in one jerky motion. He didn't know why he was standing or what he was going to do yet, but if Keith stood still for longer than a half a second he was going to be stuck frozen in baseless panic again and started walking, stepping over the fallen jacket and striding right out of his door and down the hallway.
And… That was it. He was moving, even if he didn't know where he was going yet, and that small affirmation that he had at least that much control left was all Keith needed to calm down, breath slowing down back to normal and oddly certain that if even he stopped walking he wouldn't be caught up and petrify again. Well that was… That was a weird time to have one of those, Keith thought with a frown. That sort of thing usually happened in more predictable situations, like that time he'd foolishly tried to work a job in the food industry and proved that people with social anxiety should not try to be morning diner waiters. Disturbed, Keith resolved not to go back to his room yet, not until he felt… Normal again. He wandered down the empty spaceship corridors, bare feet cold against the hard tile.
He wound up, to no one's surprise, in front of Lance's door. Not bothering to knock or alert his boyfriend in any way, Keith walked in, the doors sliding closed behind him with an automatic whir.
"Oh, hey Hon," Lance greeted in surprise when he entered. He had also showered, opting to dress in full Altean sleepwear plus shiny blue bathrobe, looking entirely comfortable and happy even while having been burst in on unannounced. "What's up?"
His total nonchalance was relieving in an indescribable way, and Keith let a deep sigh of air leave his lungs. He crossed the space between them in three long steps, striding over to Lance and unceremoniously knocking him over onto the bed, Keith following after and climbing half on top of Lance to curl into his chest as he tried to sit up. "Um," Lance only hesitated for a moment, adjusting himself to sit more comfortably against the headboard and wind an arm around Keith's shoulders. He smelled more like soap and the tea-leaf shower water than himself, Keith noted with distaste, but other than that everything was pretty good right now, and was finally truly relaxed for the first time since yesterday at least. "Apparently commandeering my lap is what's up," Lance said in amusement. "Not that I mind, but I think we passed the mark for post-coital cuddling like, fifteen minutes ago."
"Yeah, well fifteen minutes ago I was a virgin," Keith mumbled into Lance's shirt. "Shut up and cuddle me, damn it."
From this position it was easy to hear when Lance's heart stuttered and sped up at the comment. "Oh, man, seriously?"
Keith didn't raise his head, only looking at Lance with a flicker of his eyes. "What, like you didn't know?"
Lance's hand wound around to pull him closer, Keith's forehead pressed against his neck. "Well I mean I guess I hadn't assumed that you HAD ever done it, but that's not the same as realizing that'd you'd never done it before, you know?" Keith did not know, in fact. Lance paused, possibly realizing this for himself. "Er. So I guess it's more like I knew, but just… Wasn't thinking about it. At the time. A little while ago here," he explained stiltedly. Keith decided to just let him stew in his awkwardness, perfectly content where he was at this moment. Lance swallowed thickly. "So is it bad that knowing that just made what we just did like, a hundred times hotter? Because I was already gonna be able to jerk it to this memory for like the next twenty years, but now knowing that was the first time anyone had touched you just totally doubled the potency of that as spank-bank material…"
Keith, quite despite himself, couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest. This ridiculous pervert, he thought to himself affectionately, letting his eyes slip closed as the two of them laughed in each other's arms.
--
Keith wasn't sure when they fell asleep or how long he was out for. Just knew that he was waking up still sprawled all over his boyfriend, and sat up carefully to try not to wake him.
The lights in Lance's room where all still at full, but Keith got the impression that it was the middle of the night anyway. Or, human body night anyway, since both space and Elpis herself had trouble with that distinction.
Too awake to fall back asleep with Lance, Keith careful slipped off the bed with a brief stop to turn off the lights and pull a blanket up over Lance as he left the room.
Not quite ready to return to his own room but not certain what else he could do, Keith wandered off towards the kitchen in hopes of scoring some of tonight's leftover dinner before it was ravaged by the others and gone for good.
When he got there he was only mildly surprised to find the lights already on. Even less shocked was he to see Hunk, leaning against a white countertop sucking tortilla soup out of a spoon. He barely spared Keith a passing glance, staring sleepily at the wall and muttering "There's still some cobbler in the fridge."
Keith mumbled a thanks in return, and was soon hopping up to sit on the counter with a plate full of something that tasted a bit like peach cobbler but was somehow spicy-sweet under the fruitiness. For a few minutes they ate in companionable silence, staring vacantly at the same wall and sharing moment of peace. Delicious, syrupy red peace. "This is such a good friggin' cobbler, dude," Keith praised tiredly. "That whole dinner tonight was probably the best I've ever eaten in my life."
"Thanks, man." Hunk didn't even pretend to stop eating while talked, shoveling another spoonful of soup into his mouth as he said, "I'm glad y-" before his words cut off into a choke and a cough when looked at Keith.
Keith frowned. "You okay, buddy? Maybe you shouldn't talk and eat at the same time."
"I'm fine," Hunk said in a high-pitched voiced, then pounded on his chest once, clearing his throat with a final cough. "I'm fine," he repeated in an only marginally more stable voice, but didn't actually look like he was in any real distress. Other than being oddly embarrassed, bright red and looking everywhere but Keith's face as he squeaked out, "Just, um. Couldn't help but notice what a… fun and eventful night you look like you had yourself."
Keith raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher what he was talking about. And then all at once he figured out what he must look like with his rat's nest hair and love-bitten skin, slapping an embarrassed palm over his sore neck in the reflexive hope that he'd happen to cover a bite mark with it. Hunk just laughed, apologizing with a shake of his head. "Oh man, that's not gonna do you any good, dude. You've… you're sporting more hickey than neck right now, my good man. You look like you were mauled by a vampire." Keith groaned, burying his humiliation in more alien fruit cobbler. God damned Lance. "You WEREN'T actually mauled by a vampire, right?" Hunk joked, "Because if my best friend is a blood-sucker I think I should probably know in advance."
Keith chuckled. "You know, I think the vote's still out on that one. I'll be sure to get back to you as soon as I figure it out."
Hunk laughed, hearty and infectious, and the two lapsed into another friendly quiet together. Hunk finished eating, draining the last of the soup by drinking directly from the bowl and setting it on the counter, spoon ringing against the inside of the dish when it hit the countertop. Conversationally, he asked "So, did you have a good night?"
Keith thought about that question, idly licking syrup off his fork. "He did not, at any point, stop talking," he stated with a decisive nod.
Hunk burst out with another laugh, this time mixed with a pained groan. "Oh, man, don't tell me that! I can picture it WAY too easily."
It was Keith's turn to laugh. "Hey, you asked, man."
"I did not ask that and you know it," Hunk denied. "I was being friendly and making polite conversation and you ruined it with shit I just do not want to know. I'm already gonna hear enough about this from your boyfriend tomorrow, and I just don't want that kind of behind-the-scenes info on anyone's sex life at all ever, thank you."
Keith grinned. "Well yeah, that's why we can tell you. Your not caring about people's sex lives is one of the finer of your many good traits," he chuckled.
Hunk smiled, too, but it was a bit thin. "Yeah, well. Tell that to my dad," he shrugged, rinsing out his used dishes.
"Huh?"
Hunk blinked at Keith's question, probably having not meant to say that last part aloud. "Er. It's just Dad Issues. He's disappointed in me, I'm disappointed in him, et cetera." He tried to wave off before realizing Keith had no idea what that would mean. "Oh. Right. Well, like…" he trailed off. "It's not that he's a bad person, just…" he tried again, frowning in concentration. "Dad is sort of the xenophobic racist gay-bashing, type, is all," he decided on finally. Keith stared at him. "That sounded bad." Hunk sighed. "Okay the thing about families is, that you love them no matter what! Which means they can be an asshole, or someone you don't like or want to spend time with, but you love them anyway because they're your family, and you've all seen each other at your bests and worsts and you know each other. You can't help who you love, and generally speaking for most people, you can't help but love your family," he explained.
"I… Think I can understand that," Keith said hesitantly. He'd been in and out of probably a dozen foster homes, seen and lived with all kinds of families as a kid. Never been a PART of one, but he'd seen them.
Hunk was still frowning like he felt like he hadn't explained the situation adequately. "Yeah, maybe you can," he said after a moment. He shrugged stiffly. "Anyway, the way it is with my dad is that we don't happen to get along so well. Different ideas, mostly, but if it wasn't for my mom and sister we'd probably never speak to each other." Hunk put the clean dishes away, and then turned and automatically grabbed the now-empty plate from Keith's hand before he had the chance to protest that he could clean it himself, turning back to the sink and continuing to speak. "I still love him, and I respect him and respect that he's mostly the way he is because his ideas are old-fashioned and also grandpa was a huge dick, but…" He ran the sink, and Keith twitched with the desire to stop him and clean up after himself, but it seemed more important to let Hunk use the minor chore as anxiety-born distraction tactic it seemed to be. "But once, when I was like eleven or twelve there was a gay wedding at the local church and I can still remember he turned to me and said 'If you ever to try to bring a faggot home and call him your boyfriend I'll kick you both out on the streets.' Like, holy crap, Dad! Good to know your love is conditional on who I get a crush on in the future!"
"Wow," Keith winced empathetically. "That's fucked up,"
Hunk shrugged again, putting Keith's clean plate away too, and then grabbed a sponge to wipe down the still-clean counter. "He wouldn't actually do it - Mom would throw a fit at the prospect of turning ANYONE out on the streets, much less her own son. But yeah, for the most part. We'd just as soon have nothing to do with one another." He finally ran out of things to clean or pretend to clean and looked at Keith again, still sitting on the countertop. "But… Yeah. You can love someone and still recognize that your life would be better off without them, you know? Some ties are ones that you have to cut, because they're toxic and they'll eat you alive."
Keith slipped off the counter and onto his feet. "And… Your dad is one of those toxic relationships?" He asked after a moment.
"Nahhhhh," Hunk said with an easy smile. "Just stating a general fact. I'm a pretty forgiving guy, personally. All we have to do is not talk about anything that involves personal opinions and me and Dad get along just fine." He laughed, slapping Keith's shoulder jovially. "But I 'spose I don't need to explain how families work to you now that you've got us, eh?"
Keith smiled at him. "Whether I like you all or not, right?"
Hunk returned it with a grin of his own. "Now you're getting it," he said cheerfully. "Now if you'll excuse me, we should probably get our asses some sleep. We're both gonna look ridiculous if Lance is more well-rested than us tomorrow after so clearly getting laid."
Keith looked down at as much of himself as he could, and even from his own point of view could see a hickey glaring red on his collar bone just under the collar of his shirt. "As much as I'd like to, there's really no hiding it, is there?"
Hunk patted his shoulder sympathetically. "None at all." His smile beamed even further. "And if Shiro gives you guys The Talk? THAT I wanna hear about. I bet it'll be great."
Keith found himself oddly grateful for the fact that all of his friends were, without exception, kind of assholes. It was a good place to call home.
--