Archive of Our Own ^beta

Throughout their time in space, now years, Lance had learned that some experiences were shockingly universal. While some things like communication methods and cultural expectations couldn’t be more different, viruses? Yeah, those were pretty much the same. You could speak through your mind or have skin made of stone, seven sets of arms or none at all, but everyone gets sick.

It started on Taleran. A freshly liberated planet of round, tailed creatures that was nearly entirely intact by the time the last Galra ship had left the atmosphere. They weren’t nearly as bogged down as some of the planets they’d been to, The Galra a mere looming presence rather than draining and sucking the planet and its resources dry. Despite that, they were thankful all the same and were happy to indulge in a small celebration before they were off again.

It was nothing elaborate, more of a gathering in their royal gardens with drinks and pastries. They’d come straight from the fight, armor still on, helmets carefully cast aside. And while celebrations were usually kind of his thing, Lance would have liked nothing more than to decompress with a nice steamy shower, go through his skincare routine, and crawl into bed. Preferably with Keith at his side. But instead he endured the friendly conversation of the Talerians, the stories of their persistent faith in Voltron finally paying off, heartwarming to say the least. It was just… the particular one Lance was speaking with now had a lot to say… and spray.

Lance had been doing his best to ignore it. Everyone’s had their spit go flying out of their mouth mid-sentence at least once in their life. But this was a little more than once. It was damn near every sentence. Distantly he wondered if it wasn’t on purpose. Like some passive aggressive kind of silent rebellion. But the guy hadn’t seemed to notice at all.

He’d intelligently got himself backed into a corner, up against the side of a hedge, which the gardens were full of. Every time he tried to put distance between himself and the Talerian, he just stepped closer. At that point he wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation anymore, more focused on being pelted with spit.

Just breathe. You’re fine. You have been sprayed with so much worse than spit. You will make it through this conversation with dignity and poise and—

It hit his cheek. The one before it hit his nose. And it was when the next one landed on his lip that Lance decided he needed to take his exit. 

“—but then today you really showed up! And I told my sister, ‘see, Voltron has returned!’”

Lance nodded and opened his mouth to kindly interrupt, an excuse about needing the restroom on his tongue, when it landed in his mouth. Spit. In his mouth. Hot alien spit. In his mouth.

“You’ll have to excuse me real quick,” he forced out before he practically sprinted across the lawn, looking for anything he could rinse his mouth out with or a break in the crowd in case he couldn’t stop the sudden urge to vomit from rising in his throat.

Finally he spotted Keith, lurking away from the crowd, some kind of clear beverage in his hand, and made a beeline for him. 

It wasn’t that Lance was a stranger to having other people’s spit in his mouth, he’d shared drinks with Hunk since the Garrison and ate the rest of Pidge’s food when they were too stuffed to finish one of Hunk’s masterpieces and he didn’t want it to go to waste. Hell, he’d had more of Keith’s spit in his mouth than anyone’s in the entire universe. But he was close with them, they were friends. No, they were family. And this was a random alien man who kinda smelled like stinky feet and he didn’t even want to think of all the foreign bacteria and microbes that were now crawling in his mouth.

Foregoing any sort of greeting, Lance grabbed the drink from his hand and poured half of it in his mouth, immediately spitting it back out onto the lavender grass that lined the path.

“Um, what the fuck?” Keith responded confused, tilting his head to the side.

Lance took the rest of the drink into his mouth, this time swishing it around a bit before spitting it back out again. He gasped, breathing heavily in through his nose and out his mouth, not realizing he’d been holding his breath the entire way over. With a groan, he finally looked up at Keith from his doubled over position, one hand on his knee. “Man, I thought I was gonna puke.”

Keith only continued to stare at Lance, waiting for an explanation, one eyebrow raised intently. Lance straightened himself back up to properly face Keith. “This dude spit right in my mouth.”

Keith’s lips quirked up, amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s not funny!” Lance whined as Keith gave way to a grin, a low laugh wracking his chest, “Seriously, like, I’m not trying to be insensitive to their culture or anything, but what evolutionary benefit could spitting like a quiznaking fountain when you speak possibly have?”

“Mm, I dunno, nobody I talked to spit on me. Maybe he just had something against you,” Keith teased.

“Oh yeah? Well if they’re treating you so well, why are you off here in the corner by yourself?” Lance retorted playfully.

“You know I don’t like these things.” Keith snatched his cup back from Lance’s hands, placing it on a nearby table.

“Right, how could I forget? My emo, loner boyfriend—”

“Shh!” Keith hushed as Shiro stepped over to them.

“You guys about ready to head back?” he asked with a warm, but tired smile.

“Please,” Keith groaned while Lance nodded.

They were the last to be rounded up and after giving their formal goodbyes to the Talerian royal court, they were headed back to the castle ship. Once inside, before they all split off, Coran gave a reminder to be up bright and early tomorrow, promising some kind of special training.

With Lance finally back in his room, he had his long-awaited hot shower and spent maybe too long scrubbing down every inch of his mouth. He may not have Keith in his bed that night, what with the early morning plans and all, but they’d surely have a free night eventually. Maybe even sooner than Lance realized.

⁂

Lance groaned, finally moving to get up after he’d snoozed his alarm for the third time. He felt exhausted. They hadn’t even been out that late the previous evening, and the battle wasn’t that rough either, but his whole body ached like he’d just had his ass handed to him by the training bot set on hand-to-hand combat level ninety-nine.

He dragged his hands down his face, taking in the slight stuffiness of his nose before he stretched his arms over his head, trying to lose some of the tension in his stiff muscles. He didn’t bother to change out of his pajamas, knowing he’d just have to change again when they suited up in their armor. So after a quick trip to the bathroom, he smoothed down his bedhead and began to shuffle his way to the kitchen, distantly recognizing a dull pulse behind his eyes before discarding it without another thought.

Mostly everyone was still seated at the island in the kitchen when Lance walked in, with the exception of Coran and Allura who were off to the side talking animatedly to one another. Hunk smiled brightly and got up to make Lance a plate of goo pancakes, surely about to pile it full when Lance quietly stopped him. “Just a little bit today.”

Hunk nodded, his face unreadable as he plopped two circles onto his plate and they made their way back to their seats. Lance wasn’t particularly hungry this morning and looking at the goo on his plate, he felt his stomach twist slightly. Still, he cut a piece off and stuffed it into his mouth. The texture, which he’d grown to accept, felt wrong on his tongue. Thick and runny, like snot. Something in the back of his mind told him if he ate much more of it, he’d be seeing it again in the cockpit of his lion.

The rest of the table was busy in their own conversations, having grown to know Lance wasn’t much of a morning person. He made brief eye contact with Keith before he turned his attention back to whatever Shiro was saying. Curse him for being so awake and alert and pretty this early in the morning. 

Lance convinced himself to eat one more bite before he carried it off to the sink, hoping no one noticed. He wasn’t too lucky though, as Hunk caught his eye and frowned a little. Lance returned the gaze with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. There was nothing to worry about. Besides, they’d be sitting in their lions, missing a little breakfast today was really no biggy.

Not long after, they split up to suit up and meet back on the bridge. Lance had made it about halfway down the hall before someone grabbed his arm.

“Hey,” Keith breathed, having speed-walked to catch up with him.

“Hey,” Lance returned, offering a warm smile his way.

“Just wanted to say good morning before training,” Keith whispered, sliding his hand down Lance’s arm to clasp their hands together now that everyone else had passed in front of them.

Lance couldn’t help the spread of warmth across his chest. It had taken months for Keith to initiate any contact between them, and now that he was, he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.

“Well good morning to you too. And how are you at this ungodly hour in the vast expanse of space where time doesn’t even exist?” he drawled out, keeping his voice low.

Keith shrugged. “I’m fine. You?”

“Eh, I’ve been better. Just tired is all.” Lance schooled his tone, squeezing Keith’s hand in his own.

“I don’t think we’ll be out there that long.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Lance joked. “Coran and Allura seemed pretty hyped about whatever they’ve got planned.”

Keith shrugged again as they reached the intersection where they’d part ways.

“See you out there, Samurai.” Lance winked as he let go of Keith’s hand.

Keith rolled his eyes, but shot Lance one last grin before he went his separate way.

As Lance pulled on the tight suit and snapped closed the clasps of his armor, he was forced to realize the dull ache behind his eyes had begun to spread and throb. Ok, so he had a headache. That was fine! He woke up with headaches all the time back on Earth. Granted those were usually because of allergies, but who knows the last time Coran had the vents in the castle cleaned! A headache was hardly something to worry about. He’d been through much crazier. He could get through this and nobody would have to know.

On the bridge, Coran and Allura excitedly explained that they’d set up an obstacle course of sorts on an unoccupied planet in the same solar system as Taleran. It was a way for them to practice formations and battle sequences in their lions without causing any real damage or risking any lives. It seemed fairly simple, but the practice would be invaluable. It was definitely a little late in the game to be learning these now, like, two years too late, but ever since they’d been thrust into this war it’d been nonstop. And unfortunately it didn’t look like it would be ending any time soon either. It’d be much easier for Shiro to call out a drill number rather than explain where he wanted each of them to go, especially in the midst of a battle.

“Why exactly is this planet abandoned?” Hunk spoke up after Coran explained the gist of their training for the day. “I mean, how do we know The Galra aren’t just like… underground?”

“Well, believe it or not AC-410 is actually quite useless! The soil is incapable of sustaining life and the rocks make for some of the worst building materials out there!” Coran answered cheerfully.

“Ah. That’s... great,” Hunk said, a frown painting his features.

“It’s alright, Hunk. I don’t think the planet has feelings.” Lance patted Hunk on the shoulder and then froze. “Well, actually, don’t quote me on that. I never really know anymore since the Balmera.”

They parted ways again to get to their lions, the castle already having landed on the rocky terrain of AC-410. Blue welcomed Lance as she always did, swirling their consciousnesses together until they were one. She prodded curiously at the throbbing in his head, not entirely familiar with the sensation not being accompanied by an injury. He could feel her quickly scan through his body, looking for the cause, but he gently brushed her off.

AC-410 did indeed look quite useless as they exited the castle and reconvened on the uneven ground. The topography was mountainous and sharp, no signs of vegetation for miles. It reminded him of the Grand Canyon back on Earth, but if that type of terrain spanned an entire planet. The rocks were a rusty sort of brown and it didn’t look like there was much of anything on its surface. 

“Well, let's get started and see how it goes,” Shiro announced without much fanfare. “Formation number one.”

As they took off, one of the screens in front of him displayed the formations in a blueprint type manner, each equipped with tiny 3D versions of each of their lions. A swipe through several of them showed they were a mixed bag of flight and attack patterns. Formation one was as simple as it could get; a straight line with the Black lion in the middle, the arms, Red and Green on either side of Black, and the legs, Yellow and Blue on the ends. Eventually they’d be expected to have these memorized, but for now Lance was allowed to marvel at the tiny lions in their tiny formations.

It started easy enough. The headache was annoying, sure, but he easily powered through. Flying in formation was something they’d done often at the Garrison, and thankfully didn’t require too much concentration. But despite the distance and development Lance had between that time and now, he still couldn’t help but feel the familiar prickle of inadequacy under his skin. Like any moment he would be reprimanded for something he didn’t even realize he was doing wrong. He tried to shake it off as they moved through the drills, his head never ceasing to throb. 

“Formation number two!” Shiro called and Lance swiped to the next screen.

V-formation. Ok, this was seriously giving him deja-vu to being back at the Garrison. Nevertheless, Lance pulled back on his controls, letting Blue drift behind Black and Red, becoming the outermost flank.

“When are we ever going to need to use these formations?” Keith asked impatiently.

“A parade,” Lance answered snidely.

“Seriously, Shiro, I get why you guys did these kinds of drills at the Garrison, but we’re not even in ships. We’re in lions,” Pidge complained. “And even then, we travel in the castle! We’d never do long distance like this!”

Shiro sighed, “You never know guys! What if one day we don’t have the castle and we do need to travel by lion?”

“I think you could just tell us where to be if that ever happens,” Keith deadpanned.

“Fine,” Shiro relented, “since Keith wants a challenge, how about we turn it up a notch?”

“Um, no thank you, that’s alright, I’m very fine still going through these formations!” Hunk cried.

And as much as he agreed with Keith, Lance was with Hunk on this one. He’d be lying if he said his head wasn’t kinda killing him. The pace they were at right now? He could handle. But he wasn’t exactly eager to do more.

“Formation number eight. Follow my lead.” Shiro ignored Hunk, lowering the Black lion closer to the ground.

Shiro led them through a series of tight turns between the mountainous landscape, every twist increasing the pounding within Lance’s head. And the pace only accelerated from there.

As the drills got more complex and he moved around more in his seat, his nose had begun to drain down his throat. It was a little disgusting, but in order to keep his hands on the controls, he swallowed the mucus down (not that he had any tissues up here anyway). And it didn’t take long for it to start irritating his throat.

And now he really felt like he was at the Garrison again, holding in his cough as to not disturb the lecture or avoid verbal berating from an officer. Except now he was mostly trying to avoid worrying or distracting his team. Everyone’s comms were open, as they’d been instructed to be, and sure, he could turn them off for a quick second and if anybody asked he could lie and say he bumped into them, or he could just hold it in. Besides, he was kinda busy at the moment, flying a giant sentient magic robot lion and all.

But the tickle in his throat didn’t care about that. And Lance had tried to soothe it, swallowing his own spit, hoping to calm the soreness. But each inhalation of oxygen brushed against it, reawakening the irritation and making it harder to ignore. And as was inevitable, one of his breaths got caught and forced the coughs out of him. Not one, not two, or even three, it sparked a whole fucking fit. One or two coughs he could wave off, but no, he had to go make a scene out of it. He’s pretty sure he coughed for a minute straight before he managed to get his breathing to even out. If only he had a water pouch on hand.

“You alright there, Lance?” Great, it was Shiro who asked. 

He took another steadying breath and cleared his throat, “I—I’m good. I just, uh, choked on my own spit is all.”

He wished he could turn his video feed off. He could feel the heat creeping up his face, not entirely sure whether it was from coughing his lungs out or the embarrassment he felt from the looks he was getting from the rest of the team.

He hit the mute button and averted his eyes. It was too late now, but at least no one would question it. He coughed a few more times, trying to clear his throat. It felt raw now, and joined the list of culminating pains in his body.

His reassurance must have been enough though, because not long after they switched to attack patterns, the targets and drones Coran and Allura programmed finally getting put to use. 

Similar to the flight patterns, they didn’t start too hard, but steadily increased in difficulty. Even so, Lance was already off his game.

It wasn’t that he was missing, no, not yet, but they weren’t as clean as they usually were. Shots that he could usually nail in his sleep were just getting lousy taps. And he had no real reason for being sloppy. Yes, his head hurt. And yes, his throat was a little sore, but that wasn’t reason enough to be slipping up. Though if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. He should be able to fight through a little headache. This wasn’t rocketscience. This wasn’t new. 

He wanted to pull his hair out. Maybe then his head would stop fucking pounding.

He’d vaguely noticed earlier that the cockpit felt warmer than usual, but he didn’t think much of it. Maybe AC-410 was really hot! He didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to check the temperature of the atmosphere. But he did, however, start to get a little nervous when as they continued it became apparent that it wasn’t just warm anymore. It was hot. Even as a chill ran up his spine. Hot like sitting in the middle of the desert and sweltering in the midday sun, hot. And it was starting to make him feel dizzy.

“Blue, baby, you didn’t turn up the heat did you?” he half joked to her, feeling sweat start to bead on the back of his neck.

She let out a low rumble at him, taking his question as an accusation. Was this supposed to be part of the drill? See how well you can fly while your lion’s overheating? He glanced over at the other paladin’s faces on the video comms. None of the others seemed fazed, no sweat, faces full of concentration.

Lance, on the other hand, was sweating in his suit, his hands starting to lose their firm grip on the controls. He worried his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe… maybe there was something wrong. Just a little bit.

He let out what he hoped was a discrete huff while Shiro explained the next drill, but he could’ve sworn Keith was eyeing him through his comms. He just needed to sit still for a second. Then maybe the cockpit would stop spinning. Just a little bit longer. Just get through this next drill and maybe Coran can give you some kind of painkiller or something.

“This next one we’ll go through in pairs. I’ll go first, then Hunk and Pidge, then Keith and Lance.”

Great. Now they all got front row seats to the shit-show that is Lance flying with a headache. Could you be more pathetic?

“There are fourteen targets you need to hit as a team. We’ll start at the corner of the canyon and end on the other side of this mountain. Sound good? Any questions?”

They all gave affirmative grumbles and then Shiro was taking off to show them how it was done.

Lance had been hoping that the short break while Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge completed the course would be refreshing, or that he would at least have a handle on his head by the time it was over. And he could’ve sworn he only closed his eyes for a minute, but before he knew it, Keith was calling his name, “Lance. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, quickly re-muting himself and urging Blue to meet Keith at the start of the course.

He tried to stay optimistic, and it worked for a little while. They alternated the first few targets seamlessly and coasted through the empty cavern of the canyon. But it was quickly becoming hard to think at all, let alone positively. And when the drones came out, every movement sent his head and stomach reeling, his brain fighting to keep up.

He came up on a series of three targets pinned to the mountainside. He hit the first two, albeit not as head on as he’d have liked, but missed the third entirely.

“¡Mierda!” Lance blurted, Keith coming up beside him and taking out the missed target.

There was no way any of them didn’t see that. His hands had completely slipped in their grasp against the controls, throwing his aim off the target altogether. He was lucky he didn’t hit someone. It was just so hot. His gloves were soaked and slick at this point, and his limbs felt so heavy. If he just wasn’t sweating so goddamn hard…

A soft beeping sound drew his attention to the console in front of him. Keith was private lining him. Shit. He cleared his throat and accepted the call.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You completely missed that last target,” Keith’s voice was rough, but he could hear the worry underneath it.

Lance tightened his grip on the sticks and tried to play it off, “Me? ‘m alright baby, ‘m good.”

He cringed inwardly at how breathless he sounded. So much for trying to ease Keith’s worry.

“Lance,” Keith started off harsh, but it quickly faded into genuine concern, “seriously, are you ok?”

Lance let the act drop with a sigh, his voice going flat, he was see-through to Keith anymore, “Yeah man, don’t worry. My hands slipped, I’m fine.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. His hands were losing their grip on the controls, a deep ache settling into his muscles. Keith gave him a disbelieving look through his video feed, but grunted and ended the call, both of them returning to the main channel.

Lance’s stomach turned as he tried to fight down the climbing disappointment in himself. He almost wanted to cry. He was fumbling now, messing up simple things he knew how to do, just barely making it through the course, scraping by, making Keith pick up his slack. 

And the drill wasn’t even over yet. The pace didn’t relent, and neither did the heat. It felt like it was climbing faster now, setting his wet skin on fire. He was glad he muted his comms earlier, because now his breath was coming out in pants, his body desperately trying to cool itself off.

He couldn’t think past the thrumming of his head and was sweating so much at this point that the suit wasn’t even wicking it up anymore. He could feel it rolling down his back and his forehead, sweat slick bangs trapped underneath his helmet. The combination of his suit and being in Blue was seriously not helping how boiled he was feeling. They were meant to keep heat in, but his body needed it out.

He felt sick. He felt like he was going to be sick. There was no choice but to admit it now. He tugged uncomfortably at the neck of his suit and shuddered as he felt a large bead of sweat drip down his stomach. He swallowed thickly between heavy breaths, wishing he could take off his helmet just for a moment to wipe the sweat running into his eyes.

He knew he was screwed when his vision started to swim. Normally he could do evasive maneuvers without much of a problem, but with the climbing heat and the black spots now dancing in his sight, his nausea increased tenfold. It was like his vision was lagging and every time he turned his head it took a few seconds for his sight to clear. Blue growled in his mind, worried. Just a little more. Just a little more and you can rip this stupid helmet off your face.

He could see the end now, only a little more to go. Faintly he realized if he did throw up, there was nowhere for it to go. Oh god. He wasn’t going to throw up was he? He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping when he reopened them the world would stop spinning.

That was a mistake. His stomach lurched harshly as his vision doubled and he let out a low groan. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn’t see. How the hell was he not hitting anything?

He screwed his mouth up into a tight grimace, warding any bile crawling up his throat to stay in his stomach as he reached the last target.

It was too much. His eyesight wouldn’t steady. He knew there was only one target, but no matter how many times he blinked, he couldn’t focus on it, and if he didn’t act now he’d pass it entirely.

Fuck it. He chanced a shot in the vague direction of it, hoping he’d at least graze the edge of it. He missed by a long shot.

He landed messily near the others, not waiting for Blue to fully touch down before ripping his helmet off. He ran his arm across his eyes and clenched them shut, breathing hard and tasting salt.

“Alright guys,” Shiro called, “let’s take a break. Everybody meet back in the hangars.”

While no one had explicitly said it, they all knew they were stopping because of Lance. They’d only been training for maybe an hour and a half. They know. A little voice in the back of his head told him. They know something’s wrong with you or else you’d have been chewed out already.

Lance let Blue do most of the work guiding them back to the hangar, letting the built up sweat drip down his neck as he continued to struggle to regain his breath even with the helmet off. When she landed, he let his head pitch forward, resting on the cool metal control panel in front of him as it pulsed. He felt like shit. And he knew he ruined the practice for everyone else too. What was he supposed to say? He knew if it had been real, if it were a real mission he’d be able to power through. Adrenaline did that to him. But today? There was no excuse.

He let himself sit a few seconds more before moving to stand up, everyone else likely waiting for an explanation from him outside his lion. Whether he’d be met with anger or disappointment, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t hide away in Blue forever. When he finally pulled himself to a standing position, his vision swam with spots again, the cockpit tipping dangerously. His hands grasped out for anything to keep himself upright. 

Blue sent waves of worry as he steadied himself. “‘m alright, babygirl,” he slurred to her.

She didn’t believe him for a second. 

Using the interior wall as a crutch, he carefully made his way out of the cockpit. Getting down Blue’s ramp however, would be a more difficult task. There was nothing to hold onto, nothing to steady his gait, and he was distantly aware he was shaking. So he simply took a breath and began his descent.

He could see where the team was gathered outside their own lions, watching his each and every step, though his vision swayed with each one and he couldn’t make out any of their faces. When he finally made it to the bottom, he stumbled, his legs shaking as his foot caught on the bottom of the ramp and he tried in vain to stop his knees buckling underneath him.

“Lance!” several voices cried out at his stagger.

Someone caught him before he could hit the ground, slowly lowering him as his legs folded beneath him, and he heard more than saw the rest approaching as well. Any remaining grip on his consciousness was lost then. He was mush, and everything was too foggy to make sense of. His bleary eyes met violet ones, thick eyebrows furrowed, and a frown on pretty lips. Oh. Keith caught him. That was nice.

“Hey, you alright, sharpshooter?” Keith whispered to him, removing his glove with his teeth before swiping his sweat-soaked bangs from his face. He could only blink up at him, the words not registering properly in his brain. He was definitely not shooting sharp today.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“I don’t know, he was fine this morning,” another said.

He felt someone take his helmet from his hand as he was propped on steady knees, but his eyes didn’t move from the ones locked with his.

Keith tsked, as he pressed the back of his hand to Lance’s forehead before sliding it down to cup his cheek. “He’s burning up,” he said to someone nearby.

“I’ll let Coran know you’re headed to the med bay,” he heard Allura respond, her footsteps clacking into the distance.

“Ok everybody,” he heard Shiro’s voice next, “get changed and meet back at the med bay in ten, alright?” Shiro instructed before lowering his voice a bit, “And Keith?”

Shiro didn’t even have to finish his sentence before Keith replied, “I got ‘em.”

⁂

The walk to the med bay was slow going. Keith braced Lance with an arm around his waist and Lance’s arm around his shoulder. Lance’s legs shook with each step they took, his breathing unsteady, but thankfully not too fast. It would have been faster if Lance had just let Keith pick him up, and he was still half tempted to, but he insisted he could walk. It wasn't like it would be difficult with how little he weighed. Lance didn't, however, have any reservations about leaning into Keith’s side. Heavily. But Keith didn’t mind. He mostly felt guilty for not noticing it earlier, or making Shiro stop when he did start to notice him slipping up.

Lance was hot to the touch, the heat seeping right through his suit, his skin wet and pale with the exception of his cheeks which were ruby red. He was also uncharacteristically quiet, nothing but the sound of his heavy breaths and their footsteps echoing throughout the hall. Keith's stomach churned and he urged Lance on a little faster.

Eventually, they made it to the med bay and Keith tugged Lance into the brightly lit room. Once close enough to the exam table, he lifted Lance up onto it, Lance still cognizant enough to turn a bright red at the action.

Out of habit, Keith began unbuckling Lance's armor, starting with his chestplate before moving to his gauntlets. They’d all been on both ends of this procedure before (Lance far too often on the receiving end, if you asked Keith) and it had become second nature. To rip each other’s armor off, to find the source of the pain and bleeding.

“The Princess informed me Number Three isn’t doing too well?” Coran appeared then from the med bay’s storage closet as Keith unclasped the last piece of armor from Lance’s upper body.

“Pretty sure he’s got a fever,” Keith told him, combing Lance’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“Well let’s check just to be sure,” Coran said, finally making his way over to the table, a white infrared thermometer in his hand.

Coran pointed it at Lance’s forehead and gave it a second to take his temperature. It gave a little beep and Coran frowned at the result. “I believe these numbers are too high for someone of your species,” he said, showing Keith the results.

He glanced over at the device. 103.2. He sucked in a little breath through his teeth, “Yeah, those aren’t great.”

Coran hummed, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he opened a drawer and handed Keith an ice pack to use on Lance. “Could it be…?” Coran mumbled to himself.

Coran gave one more curious hum before he excused himself and rushed back into the storage closet and started rummaging around.

Keith snapped the ice pack to activate it, pushing Lance’s bangs aside again as he pressed it to his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact, a full body shiver running through him at the same time.

Keith let out a sigh and began carding his fingers through Lance’s hair. “Does that feel better?”

Lance nodded, keeping his eyes shut and leaning into Keith’s touch.

Keith bit his lip, carefully considering his words before speaking again, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “What the heck happened, Lance? You seemed fine when I saw you earlier. Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?”

Lance slowly opened his eyes and took in Keith’s concerned gaze, they were glassy, and struggled to focus. He took a raspy breath before answering, “Didn’t think it was that bad.”

That only made Keith’s frown deepen. He slid the ice pack from Lance’s forehead. He wanted to see his face. But Lance pitched forward, resting his head atop Keith’s shoulder.

“‘m sorry,” Lance mumbled, voice muffled by Keith’s shoulder, but it almost sounded watery.

“No, I—” Keith started, wrapping his arms around Lance’s back and then huffing out another sigh, “you just worry me sometimes.”

That much was true. Lance had a tendency to cover up whenever something was wrong. And it was a tough habit to break even now that he and Lance were closer. He hid injuries, faked smiles, tried to overcompensate if things didn’t go as planned on missions, and took any and all blame regardless of who’s “fault” it was; all in the name of not being a burden.

So despite him wanting to scream “why, why, why” over and over again, he knew how that pipeline ended. “I didn’t want to bother you,” “I didn't want to distract you,” “I didn’t want to” interrupt, get in the way, hold you back; all of which were things Lance physically could not do. All of which were things Keith simultaneously admired and endlessly frustrated him. So the real question became, why didn’t Keith say anything.

The two stayed like that for a few minutes, Lance pressed against Keith’s shoulder and Keith slowly rubbing his back, the distant sound of Coran scrambling through the closet in the background. Only when there was a far off “Aha!” did they separate, Keith replacing the ice pack back on Lance’s forehead.

Coran scurried back into the med bay, a strange contraption in his hands.

“Lance, my boy, do you mind if I run a little test? I have a suspicion as to what might be ailing you,” Coran said, mustache between his fingers.

“Mm, no, go ahead,” Lance muttered sleepily.

Coran wasted no time, digging through drawers and cabinets, pulling out an assortment of equipment.

“Ah! Here we go,” he finally said, handing Lance a vial.

“Huh, you want me to pee in it?” Lance questioned, making Keith blush slightly in second-hand embarrassment.

“No, no!” Coran quickly corrected. “Just your saliva will do.”

“Oh,” Lance said and promptly spit into the tube.

“Many thanks!” Coran said, taking the vial from him and placing it into the contraption he had brought out from the storage closet.

It looked like he was running one of those tests where they take your samples and then stick it in some kind of solution to see if it turns a piece of paper red. Or a line shows up. Or whatever. He didn’t know how that all worked. But Keith was clueless as to what he could possibly be testing for.

Shiro was the first to arrive, causing Keith to quickly drop his hand from Lance’s hair, stepping out from where he was nearly between Lance's legs. He made his way swiftly to the exam table, stopping beside Lance to get a good look at him. Keith moved the ice pack from Lance’s forehead and Shiro took its place.

“How you doin’, buddy?” Shiro asked gently.

Lance leaned into the touch, a soft hum emanating from between his lips, but otherwise didn’t respond, so Keith answered for him, “He’s got a fever.”

Shiro sighed, as though he’d already assumed as much. Coran picked up from there, explaining he had a hunch and was running a quick test.

Just as he finished explaining all the science behind the test he was running, (which went over Keith’s head just as much as it went over Shiro’s) the test's timer went off and Coran was quick to read the results. He humphed in triumph, “Ah! Just as I suspected. Lance has Parafebris sibilasis.”

“Say what?” Lance grumbled from his seat on the table, half leaning onto Keith’s shoulder again.

Hunk and Pidge arrived just in time to hear Coran’s explanation, now out of their suits and joining the little semicircle that had formed around Lance.

 “Parafebris sibilasis,” Coran repeated. “It’s a virus from Taleran, the planet we allied with yesterday.”

“So I have space flu?” Lance muttered.

“A Talerian space flu, I suppose,” Coran replied, chipper as ever. “One of the Talerians I spoke with mentioned they were having a small outbreak of it.”

“What!?” Keith yelled, jostling Lance from where he was pitching over onto him. “Why didn’t they tell us they were having a fucking outbreak?”

“Language,” Shiro reprimanded.

Weren’t there some kind of rules against that? They held a fucking party for them for Christ’s sake! And didn’t say a damn thing!

“Wait,” Pidge took a few steps away from Lance, their arms held out in defense and eyes wide, “it’s not contagious is it?” 

“Not to worry!” Coran quickly placated, arms folding behind his back. “It only spreads through very specific means. We don’t need to worry about quarantining or anything of the sort!”

“Oh thank god,” Lance sighed breathlessly, once again leaning heavily on Keith who was still tense beside him.

“Symptom wise it seems to be similar to many of your Earth viruses. Coughing, sneezing, congestion, sore throat, body aches, fatigue, fever, nausea—”

“Ok, Coran, I think we get it,” Shiro tried to interject.

“— headaches, loss of appetite, and in Talerians specifically, increased saliva production.”

“Thank you, Coran.” Allura appeared seemingly from out of nowhere.

“The treatment is rest,” Coran continued, turning to Lance. “Unfortunately the pods don’t exactly work on viruses. You’ll simply have to wait it out. But don’t worry! We have a few things here that should hold you over. You should be feeling fine in a few days or so.”

“Alright,” Shiro announced, regaining control of the conversation, “everyone’s dismissed for the time being. We can probably pull into an unoccupied area of space until Lance gets his bearings. We all deserve a little break anyway. Will that work, Princess?”

“Most certainly. It would be best that we avoid any confrontation with the Galra while we’re down a paladin.” she nodded and began to make her way swiftly to the bridge, Shiro hot on her heels.

Everyone else started dispersing too, Hunk naturally beginning to make his way over to Lance. But Pidge stopped him, gently grabbing his arm. They gave his furrowed expression a meaningful look before casting their gaze over to Keith and Lance. It seemed Keith had already assigned himself to taking Lance back to his room. Keith whispered something to Lance, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear before holding up the pill Coran gave him and a pouch of water for Lance to take. Hunk looked back to Pidge, wearing a question on his face. Pidge simply shrugged and led the two of them back through the door they came in. Hunk gave one last look at Lance’s lanky, hunched frame before leaving him in Keith’s care, the whole exchange unbeknownst to them.

After he’d taken the pill and downed the water, Lance slid off the table and let himself be braced by Keith without a word. He made a mental note to remember to retrieve the rest of Lance’s armor later. 

“Sure you don’t need me to carry you?” Keith lightly teased.

“Mmm,” Lance hummed drowsily, “think ’m ok.”

The walk to Lance’s bedroom didn’t take as long as the one to the med bay, the tremors in Lance’s legs replaced with a sluggish sort of drag. And once inside, Keith gently deposited him on the bed. He crouched in front of him, unclasping the remaining armor around his legs and pulled off his boots. He then moved to sit next to Lance and carefully turned him to the side to unzip his suit from the back. His bare skin was burning and his suit was damp on the inside. It stuck to his skin as he peeled it off until he was just in his boxers, another shiver leaving goosebumps on his exposed flesh.

Normally seeing Lance nearly naked would’ve had Keith feeling butterflies. And there was still something twisting around in his stomach, but it was more worry than anything. Lance was just so out of it. Not joking or flirting with him, just floating there. It made Keith worry his brains really were boiling.

Still, he went over to his closet and tossed him a shirt and his pajama pants. “You ok getting those on by yourself?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded wordlessly, his hands loosely clutching the clothes in his lap.

Keith smiled back and started to make his way to the door. Suddenly, Lance snapped out of his haze. “Wait!”

“Hm?” Keith turned back to face Lance, eyebrows furrowed, “Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t leave me,” Lance pleaded, coming out more as a question.

Keith’s gaze softened as his heart stuttered in his chest. Something about this fever-riddled Lance, looking so small and unlike himself, was absolutely yanking at his heartstrings.

“I have to change out of my armor,” Keith smiled, huffing out a little laugh. “And you need to rest. I’ll be back later though, I promise, ok?”

“Ok,” Lance conceded quickly and quietly.

Keith shook his head fondly at Lance’s little pout before stepping back out of his room, leaving Lance to get dressed and hopefully sleep.

⁂

When Keith finally made his way back to Lance’s room, he was surprised to see he was awake. Keith had knocked lightly before entering without a reply, assuming Lance would be asleep. Instead he found him squished into the corner of his bed and the wall with several blankets wrapped around himself, a datapad loosely in his grip. Upon seeing Keith enter, he startled slightly.

“Hey.” Keith awkwardly raised his hand in greeting. “Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep.”

As Keith moved deeper into the room, Lance carefully discarded the datapad beside him on the bed and began shedding his mountain of blankets. A quick glance at the screen revealed Lance was looking over the drills from earlier. Keith met him at the edge of the bed, whispering a quiet “c’mere” and pulling Lance up and into his arms. The two wrapped in an easy embrace, Lance sighing as he relaxed into Keith.

Keith took note of the boy in his arms. He’d changed into the clothes Keith set out for him with the addition of a cottony blue hoodie and one of the blankets draped around his shoulders. He was warm, and his hair was slightly damp, smelling of not-strawberry shampoo (Lance had told him the name of the alien fruit several times, but it smelled like strawberry to Keith, so not-strawberry it was). Lance must have managed to drag himself to the shower despite being told to rest. Though he couldn’t exactly blame him, he had been completely drenched earlier. Lance bent just slightly to bury his nose in the crook of Keith’s neck and Keith breathed him in.

Keith himself had showered and changed into sweats after he removed his armor. He spent the better part of the afternoon restless, restraining himself from checking up on Lance. It wasn't that he thought he wouldn't be taking care of himself—he was holed up in his room, how much trouble could he really get into—but that he just wanted to see him. Needed to see him. After Keith had left him in the state he was in, he'd been itching to see if he was doing any better. But even Keith, in all his socially inept glory, knew that would be at least a little suspicious. Especially after he'd already been all over Lance and vice versa earlier today. So he drifted. If the others thought it was best to leave him be, Keith would too. Even though he wanted nothing more than to have stayed with Lance like he’d asked.

That being said, when Hunk asked for someone to go fetch Lance for dinner, he jumped at the opportunity.

“How come you’re awake? Weren’t you supposed to be resting?” Keith questioned softly.

“Couldn’t,” Lance murmured into Keith’s neck, “head hurts too much.”

Keith let out a concerned sigh making Lance shiver and tighten his hold around Keith’s waist, “I’ll ask Coran for more of whatever he gave you earlier.”

Lance hummed, seeming content in Keiths arms, “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling? You know, other than the headache.” Keith pulled back so he could see Lance’s face. The color had returned to his skin, though now it was flushed a warm red. “I came to get you for dinner. Hunk made you some kind of special soup.”

Lance shrugged. “Cold. Tired. Soup sounds good though.”

“Good.” Keith smiled. “Everyone wants to know how you are.”

Lance hummed again, separating from Keith just long enough to slip his socked feet into his blue lion slippers before reattaching himself to Keith.

Keith couldn’t stop the soft chuckle from bubbling its way out of his chest as Lance wound his arms back around Keith from behind him this time. “Lead the way,” Lance mumbled into his shoulder.

Keith took that as the go ahead and started making his way out of Lance’s room. It was a little awkward like this, walking with Lance draped across his back, trudging behind him. He couldn’t really get a hold on him, not unless he wanted to twist his arms uncomfortably behind him, and instead they hung empty at his sides. Lance rested his head on top of his shoulder, and when Keith craned his neck to get a look at Lance’s face, his eyes weren’t even open. Keith couldn’t find it in himself to complain though, if this was working for him, he wasn’t about to stop him.

However, the closer they got to the kitchen, the more the tiny spark of anxiety in Keith’s chest grew. Was Lance going to get off of him? Or were they going to walk in there like this? In front of everyone... They still hadn’t told the team that they’re a thing now. And up until today they haven’t been “touchy feely" (Lance’s words) with each other in front of the others (with the exception of maybe Coran, but those were accidents and Coran knew how to keep his mouth shut).

So when he reached the kitchen door, Keith paused for a second, giving Lance one last chance to untangle himself from Keith. But when he made no move to do so, Keith didn't have the heart to pull him off. Guess we’re doing this.

He felt the heat rising up his neck before he even pushed the button to open the door. And when it finally slid open and everyone looked up at them, Lance plastered to Keith’s back like a koala, he felt it blossom across his face.

Hunk and Pidge both sent him knowing smirks from where they were adding finishing touches to the soup, and Keith felt his face flame farther because he didn’t know what it was that they supposedly knew. Allura and Coran seemed indifferent towards Lance's apparent clinginess, but Shiro looked mildly surprised. And maybe a touch confused. But sent Keith a proud look anyway.

Right. Shiro still saw Keith as a touch-averse teenager.

It was Allura who spoke first as Keith maneuvered Lance to his seat, “Lance,” she asked politely, “how are you feeling?”

“Just peachy, Princess,” he croaked out, his voice rough. Keith could hear the congestion in his sinuses as Lance finally let go of him, plopping tiredly into his chair. “Thank you, though.”

She frowned slightly at the gravelly tone, but nodded nonetheless.

“He was awake when I went to get him,” Keith announced as he sat in his own seat, though he couldn’t help but feel like he was snitching on him. Then he turned towards Coran. “I think the meds wore off, you don’t have any more of those do you?”

Shiro stepped over to Lance while Keith was talking and rested his hand on top of his head, subtly gauging his temperature while ruffling his hair. “Yeah,” Shiro hummed contemplatively, “he’s still a bit too warm.”

“Certainly,” Coran smiled softly at Lance. “But it’s best not to keep taking them on an empty stomach! After dinner will do.”

“Um,” Lance ground out before coughing a little. “I… I wanted to apologize. To everyone.”

Lance shifted in his chair, eyes sweeping across all of them before landing on Coran, Allura, and Shiro. “I didn’t mean to ruin training for all of us. I should’ve—”

“Lance—” Shiro tried to cut him off, but he wouldn’t let him.

“No, I really mean it. Coran and Allura worked so hard setting up all those courses for us and I…” he took a deep breath— well, as deep as he could with clogged airways— before continuing, “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have let a cold get in the way of that.”

“No, no, this is my fault. I should’ve stopped us as soon as I noticed something was off. I shouldn’t have waited until you were on the verge of collapsing to pause,” Shiro amended.

And just like that the blame game had begun. Sometimes Shiro could be just as bad as Lance.

“Besides,” Keith shot in before Lance could refute it, “you had a ridiculous fever, that’s not just a cold, Lance.”

“I’ve been pushing us too hard. All of you. I see that now. Especially if your immune system was compromised enough to allow you to get sick,” Shiro added directly at Lance. 

Lance looked as if he was about to protest again when Hunk barreled over.

“Alright, alright!” Hunk called abruptly. “Everybody sit down, it’s mama Hunk’s turn.”

And with that it was dropped, even Shiro smiling and returning to his seat.

Hunk doled out bowls to everyone, each filled with a dark reddish liquid, little green bits floating within it.

“Oh! Is this the plant you picked up on Borbator a few movements back?” Allura asked, holding up her spoon with a few of the green pieces on it.

“Yeah!” Hunk answered excitedly, finally taking his own seat across from Lance as they all began to dig in. “They said it was supposed to have some kind of immunity boosting properties, so I thought, what better time to use it?”

“Thank you, Hunk,” Lance smiled sincerely towards him before spooning more of it into his mouth. “It tastes really good.”

Hunk beamed. “I was hoping you’d say that. It took a little bit of trial and error, but I think I finally got it tasting almost like a tomato base. Couldn’t get rid of that little tang in the aftertaste though—”

“It’s wonderful, Hunk,” Shiro interrupted before Hunk could discredit himself any farther. “Tastes just like Earth.”

“Oh my!” Allura made a face after her first bite. “Earthen food must be salty.”

A casual discussion of culinary tastes from Earth and Altea broke out then, and Keith used the distraction to sneak a couple glances at Lance. He was slowing down, his bowl only half empty, before he put his spoon down altogether. Keith didn’t expect him to finish it, Hunk had dished him a large serving and Coran had mentioned something about lack of appetite earlier.

Lance sat back in his chair and just like that his eyes began drooping. No more than three minutes later and his head reconnected to Keith’s shoulder. He felt himself tense at the light touch, but it quickly fizzled out when it was clear Lance was already drifting off. And god, how he wanted to reach out and wrap his arm around him. To secure him against his side. To hold his hand. To sweep his bangs back and smooth his hair down and just touch.  

And belatedly Keith realized there’s a whole side of himself that the others don’t know. A whole version of himself he’s been keeping tucked away for only Lance to see. A soft version. And yeah, he’s mellowed out over the last two years, but an ever softer one. One that likes hugs and cuddles. And is even starting to initiate those things sometimes. One that’s not so prickly, and that can handle Lance’s abundant affection. One that invites it. One that gives it back. One that’s—

A small snort from across the table snapped him out of his thoughts. And Keith’s cheeks absolutely burned when his eyes shot up to see Pidge already staring at him, a hand clasped over her mouth as she tried not to laugh, and Keith felt his lips tug downwards into a scowl.

Everyone was looking at them with various amounts of amusement. And, fuck, Shiro had this little smart-ass smirk on his face. Even Coran was smiling to himself, though he at least had the decency to not stare.

But this… this was why he had been hiding it. Why they haven't told anyone yet (you know, apart from being in the middle of actual war). It's the attention. The looks. The assumptions and the expectations and everything else that people felt entitled to know when you tell them you're dating someone. Knowing that every look, every movement, every touch would be analyzed by everyone, Keith didn't want it. Or at least he was enjoying not having to worry about it yet. Because being with Lance was something he kind of treasured. Something he wanted to keep to himself for a little while. Something he felt proud that nobody else got to see. And Lance, much to Keith's surprise, felt the same. Despite his love for attention, he didn't want his love life on blast, not when it mattered.

And that was only the half of it. Then there was the teasing. He just knew Shiro would make his life a living hell if he found out Lance, former bane-of-Keith’s-existence Lance, curled up with him at any opportunity they could get. And Hunk and Pidge would be relentless with Lance, no doubt, they already were when he had a crush on Allura. 

And then there was Allura. Based on her current reactions she’d probably just gush over them. Which was honestly better than the alternative that Keith and Lance have spent far too much time worrying about; That she would forbid them from being together, say it would interfere with their work as paladins. Though Keith’s pretty confident he could refute that sentiment now, seeing as they hadn't let it get in the way for the past several months. But who’s to say she still wouldn't try?

“This is just too hilarious,” Pidge snickered. “It’s like when a cat purposely curls up with the one person who hates them.”

Keith’s frown deepened. He didn't hate Lance… 

“He’s clearly not feeling well,” Keith muttered.

“You're right though,” Hunk continued fondly. “Lance latches when he’s sick. Like a baby to it’s mother’s—”

“That’s disgusting, please never use those words ever again,” Pidge cut him off, a revolted look on their face. Between all the commotion, Lance didn’t even stir at his side.

“I think it's sweet,” Allura mused. “I never knew humans became so vulnerable when ill.”

“Well, yeah, we're kinda built to find others to take care of us when we're sick, social species and all, but Lance also has it pretty bad.” Pidge cast a concerned gaze toward Lance as she studied him, her lips twitching downwards just slightly.

“Plus Lance is clingy,” Hunk added.

“Plus Lance is clingy,” Pidge agreed, the frown vanishing off her face.

“Ah, Alteans are much the same. I suppose I should have expected that. Though our illnesses can be vastly different. I’m sure you all remember Coran’s case of the slipperies.” Allura shivered in remembrance.

“Don’t remind me.” Pidge stood up from the table, grabbing her empty bowl and she went. “Well, I’m off to play Killbot, I’ve been waiting for a break to beat this next level.”

“Ooh! Wait for me!” Hunk jumped up before freezing and looking back at Lance.

“You can go ahead, I got em.” Keith waved his hand dismissively towards Hunk, hoping that came off as simply a-friend-helping-a-friend and not… whatever the truth was.

“And I’ll take the dishes,” Shiro added, collecting everyone’s bowls from the table.

Keith nudged Lance lightly as the room cleared out, Coran leaving Keith a singular pill to give to Lance before he too, left. “Hey, wake up.”

Lance groaned a bit, opening his eyes to the now empty table.

“Come on, I’ll take you to bed.” Keith grabbed Lance’s arm to haul him up, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Nooo,” Lance whined sleepily.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Keith laughed.

“Wanna stay up. Hang out with you.”

Keith snorted, but tried to force a serious face, Lance was too fucking cute like this, “You’re supposed to be resting, you can’t even keep your eyes open!”

Lance simply pouted at Keith, eyes still glassy with fever. And really, how was he supposed to say no to that?

“Fine. But only for a little bit, and then I’m taking you back to bed.”

Lance leapt into Keith’s arms. Keith just rolled his eyes and made Lance take the pill before carting him off after Hunk and Pidge.

“Guess who wouldn’t go back to bed,” Keith announced as he led Lance into the lounge where Hunk and Pidge were already set up, the gaming console plugged into the screen and the two of them reclined on the couch.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Pidge said, only taking their eyes off the screen for a second.

“Come here, you big baby,” Hunk chuckled and opened his arms up for Lance.

Lance practically skipped into Hunk’s arms, leaning into his side as Hunk dutifully wrapped his arms around him. And Keith tried not to feel jealous as Lance nestled into Hunk’s hold and laid his head on his shoulder, winding one of his own arms across Hunk’s torso.

He grabbed an extra blanket and a data pad before he made his own way to the couch, dropping the blanket on Lance’s legs and sitting a few spaces away from the pair. Lance shot Keith a small smile in thanks and proceeded to unfold the blanket and bury himself underneath it.

The next little while passed uneventfully, Pidge working her way through whatever level she was on while Keith devoted most of his attention to the report he was writing about their mission on Taleran (the others had surely finished theirs earlier in the day, but Keith had trouble focusing with Lance unwell and locked away in his room and… yeah). Pidge was getting frustrated though. Keith hadn’t been paying close enough attention to know why, but his eyes shot up to see when she let out an agitated groan.

“Ok, seriously what the fuck. What am I possibly missing, this room is empty,” she complained.

“You gotta jump in the blue lava pit. That’s how you get to the next section,” Lance told her, pointing at the screen where there was in fact, a pit of pixelated blue lava.

“Yeah right, you’re just trying to trick me into losing a life,” Pidge brushed him off.

But Lance was adamant and he shook his head, “No, I remember this level. I got stuck on it as a kid. Marco had to show me how to get past it. You have to go in the blue lava.”

She ignored his advice for another ten minutes, retracing her steps and coming up blank until she finally relented and did as he said.

And miraculously, she did not die, but instead text appeared across the screen announcing she’d made it to the next level.

Lance grumbled out a sly “I told you so,” though there was no malice behind it. Unfortunately his victory was short lived, as coughs began to wrack his chest, devolving into a whole fit just like earlier.

“Shit,” Lance choked in between the coughs.

Hunk pulled him upright, rubbing his back through it as he hacked and even Pidge set her controller down, poised to act if needed. “Breathe, Lance, buddy, you gotta breathe.”

A rock made its way into the pit of Keith’s stomach and suddenly his throat felt tight. He tore himself from the couch, determined to not be useless and came back with a glass of water from the kitchenette in his hand.

After the worst of it was over, Lance took several shaky breaths before raising the glass to his lips, taking a few careful sips before Keith grabbed it from him and he slumped back against Hunk’s body.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Hunk whispered gently, pushing Lance’s bangs back and resting his palm across his forehead.

Hunk frowned, presumably from the heat he felt coming off Lance’s skin and Keith felt his stomach twist once again.

He sat back against the couch, and Pidge slowly picked up her controller again. Lance had just taken another dose of medicine from Coran, so he probably shouldn’t take anymore. Maybe he could get another ice pack? 

Hunk decided to use the brief disruption to get up and get himself some snacks, wriggling out from underneath Lance, and he pouted at the loss of his human-heater.

Keith almost laughed, but then Lance started crawling his way over to him instead. He took advantage of the fact that Keith’s hands were momentarily free and laid himself right in Keith’s lap, still bundled up in his blankets.

Keith went rigid. Every muscle in his body tensing up. Because despite how well adjusted he was to being physical with Lance, he was not used to doing it in front of others.

Lance on the other hand nuzzled closer against Keith’s thighs. His heart pounded in his chest. Jesus Christ. He was trying to kill him.

Hunk returned to the couch with a light chuckle, and Pidge turned around at the sound and sent Keith another sly grin. Hunk mouthed the word “Latches” and Pidge sent him a dirty look. And by some stroke of luck, they both turned back to the game without teasing Keith anymore. Though if he had to guess, it was because they didn’t want to rouse Lance, who’s eyes were beginning to flutter sleepily where he lay.

Gradually, Keith let himself relax under Lance’s weight. Moving an arm to rest on the dip in Lance’s side, the other combing gently through his hair. Distantly he realized Lance was definitely still too warm.

Lulled by Keith’s ministrations, Lance was out again in no time. Keith could tell by the even rise and fall of his chest. And he was half tempted to carry him off to bed, but Pidge kept sending him soft looks, and Hunk looked like he wanted to say something.

“You’re actually kind of good at it,” Hunk finally spoke, and then continued when Keith made a confused face, “Taking care of him.” Hunk waved towards Lance, fast asleep in Keith’s lap. “Lance turns into a bit of a baby when he’s sick. I kind of expected you to be all stiff and awkward about it. But you’re handling it really well.”

Well shit. Was it really that obvious? How easily he relaxed into Lance’s touch anymore? How comfortable he was with him draped across his lap? Keith bit his lip.

“I was just trying to do what you would do.” Keith felt his cheeks darken, hoping it didn’t sound as much of a lie as Keith knew it was. “Is he always like this when he’s sick?”

Hunk smiled fondly, “Oh, yeah, he’s pretty much a body heat leech when he’s under the weather.”

And then Hunk’s smile faded from his face. “But I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen him this sick. Not even when he caught the flu on Earth… That fever, man. I don’t know how he was still standing.”

Keith’s hands never stilled on Lance’s body as there was a heavy pause.

“I…” Hunk started, “I should have known. He didn’t eat all his breakfast this morning. You know how he is. I should have known right then.”

“You can’t blame yourself like that,” Keith spoke softly. “You know he hides things. I even asked him if he was alright before we left the castle and he said he was fine.”

“But we all knew, didn’t we?” Pidge chimed in and Keith looked up to see she had paused her game. “Once we were out there. It was obvious something was wrong. He pushed himself and we let him.”

There was a beat of silence again and Keith thought back on earlier, when they were out on AC-410. Keith knew Lance looked off on the video comms. The sheen of sweat on his face, his ruddy cheeks. The coughing fit and how unusual it was for Lance to miss shots. But Keith asked, didn't he?

Yeah. You asked, he denied it, and then you let it go even though you knew he was lying.

“It’s a really nasty habit of his.” Hunk wrung his hands together. “I just wish he didn’t feel like we’d think less of him for being human.”

And that’s how he saw it, right? To be ill was to be weak. To be injured was to be useless.

Dumbass… Keith peered over Lance’s shoulder where he was facing away from him. His brows were furrowed and his lips were tugged downwards, still asleep.

“Maybe we should pay closer attention to him,” Keith suggested. It was all they really could do without holding an intervention. And believe Keith, he had tried.

But Lance was stubborn and downplayed things even after the fact. Today was just another example of it. If he could just get Lance to trust him with these kinds of things…

Hunk and Pidge nodded and they all vowed to try a little harder to break Lance of his unhealthy and quite frankly incorrect, pattern of thinking.

They all resumed what they were doing. Pidge unpaused her game, Hunk went back to watching her, and Keith picked his data pad back up, using Lance’s back to rest his arms on. But by then it wasn’t long until they started to turn in.

“Alright, I’m done,” Pidge said exasperated, “if I fail this level one more time tonight, I’m going to break something.”

Hunk laughed and moved to help her unplug all the wires of the console, “Yeah, it’s pretty late anyway. Time for bed.”

“See y’all tomorrow!” Pidge made their way to the door, arms full of equipment.

Hunk on the other hand hovered for a second, “Do you want me to take Lance?” Hunk gestured to the boy passed out in his lap. “I kinda feel bad, leaving him to you twice today. I can carry him to his room.”

“Oh.” Keith couldn’t help but blush again. “Um, nah, that’s alright. I’ll still be up for a little longer. I don’t mind.”

Hunk just laughed again, likely at his abnormally bashful expression, “Ok, but I’m warning you, there’s a ninety-five percent chance he won’t wake up and you’ll have to carry him to bed.”

“I think I’ll take the chance,” Keith smiled at Hunk.

“Alright,” Hunk raised his arms in faux defense, “goodnight, Keith.”

“Night, Hunk,” Keith said back, the smile on his lips not falling even after Hunk had left.

Spread across his lap, Lance breathed evenly. Keith had never seen him sleep so heavily. He must have really needed it. He ran his hand along his blanket covered back and a content sigh slipped past Lance’s lips.

Keith turned his attention back to his datapad. He only had a few things to write and then he’d be ready to turn in too. 

It didn’t take too long, maybe a quarter of an hour before he set the datapad aside and stretched his arms up above his head, hoping the movement might jostle Lance awake. But to no avail, Lance slept on. So he gripped Lance’s shoulder and shook him lightly. Ok. Maybe Hunk was right.

Then again, he wasn’t trying very hard. That was ok. Carrying Lance had never been a problem for Keith. It was kind of ridiculous how easily he could heft the taller boy into his arms. And he would take carrying a sick and sleepy Lance over a bloody and bruised one any day. So he gently turned him over and looped his arms under Lance’s knees and around his back, tenderly hoisting him up bridal style. He clutched Lance tightly to his chest, taking in his sleeping face before starting off to his room. The walk was quiet and the castle was dark, everyone already having gone to bed. Keith took his time as Lance’s head rested against his shoulder, cheeks still faintly flushed with fever.

Once inside Lance’s room, Keith eased him down onto the bed, and removed Lance’s lion slippers before pulling the blankets over his curled up frame. He did his best to tuck him in, adding a few extra blankets overtop of him. If how cold he was earlier was any indication, he’d need them. Finally he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. 

Just as Keith was about to leave, body poised to step out of Lance's room, a hard shiver wracked Lance’s body. And then it didn’t stop. Despite being underneath all those blankets, Lance still quivered beneath them. Keith’s heart clenched again and he couldn’t stop himself.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Keith was kicking off his shoes and climbing over Lance, getting into the bed beside him. He slipped himself under the covers and turned onto his side, settling behind Lance, and tenderly pulled him to his chest. Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist and almost immediately, he stopped shivering, body relaxing back into his touch.

Keith exhaled, letting the tension in his own muscles seep out as he buried his face into Lance’s shoulder. Seeing Lance like this left his stomach in a state of unrest. He knew he wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was still weary. And he didn’t think the feeling would go away until Lance was better. He still wasn't used to it. Caring about someone so much. He let the rise and fall of Lance’s chest lull him to sleep, Lance safe and warm in his arms, at least for now.

⁂

It was sheer luck that Keith woke up early enough that no one had come to check on Lance yet. He’d played it quite riskily, not setting an alarm the night before, but he’d miraculously awoken anyway. Lance, however, was still completely out. There was a hot minute where he wouldn't let go of him and Keith was sure his luck was going to run out, but he was able to placate him with a kiss to the forehead and slip out otherwise undetected.

It wasn’t normally a problem they ran into when they slept in the same bed together. No one bothered Lance much in the early hours of the morning. Not because he was difficult, but because his tardiness really only lasted the first two weeks in space. After that, he knew when he needed to be prompt and when he could get away with being a little late. They only ever had to go after him if he was really late. And that was almost always an indicator that something else was amiss (read: hiding something).

Today was different though, Hunk would almost definitely be coming to check on him and Keith could not be found in the same bed as Lance when that happened. It felt wrong to leave, and his heart screamed at him to turn around and get back in the bed, to take care of Lance himself. But just as Keith expected, he passed Hunk in the hall, clearly on his way to Lance’s room, a bowl of reheated soup as well as a few other things in his hands.

Keith gave him a nod and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying his best to look innocent as he made his own way to the kitchen. Shiro was already having breakfast when Keith got there, and they wordlessly stepped around each other as Keith pulled out a bag of what they’d been using as coffee. By the time Keith sat down with his mug and was letting the steam of it warm his face, Hunk was back with Lance in tow.

Lance announced his arrival with a cough into his sleeve that sounded… worse than yesterday. It was wet. And crackly. His hair was still mussed from sleep and there were heavy bags under his eyes. But he was on his feet, and not leaning against Hunk for support, so that had to mean something. Keith forced himself to look away before he could be caught staring. Morning Lance was… a gift, to say the least.

“Morning,” Lance croaked and turned for the same cabinet Keith had just been in.

“Guess who’s temperature is back in the ninety’s!” Hunk cheered. “Well, 99.9, but still!”

Shiro laughed warmly over to Lance, “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Mmhm,” Lance agreed, steeping his infusion bag in a cup of hot water. “So what’s the plan for today, bossman?”

“Plan?” Shiro questioned. “There is no plan, we’re just relaxing today.”

Lance frowned at that, “You guys don’t have to hold back because of me. Besides, I’m feeling much better today, so—” his sentence was punctuated with another wet cough, his cheeks pinking as his body exposed him.

Shiro just smiled at him, “Nice try, buddy. We’re just gonna take it easy today. All of us. I was serious when I said I was pushing you all too hard. So you have nothing to worry about.”

Lance grumbled something too quiet for Keith to hear and shuffled his way over to his seat. He sat with a huff and draped himself across the table.

Finally he turned his head to face Keith. “What are you going to do today?”

“Hmm,” Keith thought for a second, a smirk on his face, “there’s a few things I’ve been putting off fixing with Red.”

“The point is to relax, Keith,” Shiro reminded.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll read a book.”

“That’s more like it.” Shiro grinned into his own mug as he stood up and left the room.

The day rolled on just as lazily as the morning. Keith and Lance spent most of their time camped out in the lounge, Keith on his data pad and Lance slowly collecting a pile of used tissues. He remained glued to Keith’s side, bundled in his blanket, though thankfully not on top of him this time. And any time Keith got up to go get something, he pinned him with an affronted glare that said “don’t you dare leave me.” 

He napped fitfully and tapped at his own data pad in between. Coran gave him another dose of medicine, though it didn’t seem to do much for the built up mucus in his throat. Hunk had stayed with them for a good while too, taking a turn being Lance’s personal heater. The others came and went throughout the day and every time Lance had begged them to let him help out. To clean, or train, or anything. He even suggested to Allura that they go back to AC-410 and try to run the courses again. Anything but rest.

It wasn’t until after they had an early dinner that Shiro all but banished him to his room for the night. Shiro had laughed at the pout on Lance's face and told him the quicker he got better, the sooner he could go back to being around everyone. And really, Keith couldn’t argue with that logic. But Shiro had much more of a backbone than Keith and was immune to Lance’s puppy dog eyes, so Keith ended up escorting Lance back to his room for the day. The only downside was that Lance being confined to his room meant Keith was confined to it too. Which wasn’t terrible, oh no, you have to spend time alone with your boyfriend! But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to hit the training deck.

Lance seemed to be restless too, what with him rolling around in his blankets, complaining to Keith every five minutes. He was a lot more cognizant today than he had been the day before, but also a lot more uncomfortable. He was congested and achy and all around unhappy. And while it was good to see him returning to his normal self, Lance was, well… whiny.

Keith was reading through mission briefs (against Shiro’s instruction) when Lance called out to him again, making it six minutes this time since the last, “Keeeeeith.”

Keith finally looked his way and quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Yes, Lance?”

“Ugh,” was all he replied before flopping back down onto his mattress.

Keith couldn’t help but laugh. His boyfriend was being very dramatic and if it were anyone else it wouldn’t be nearly as endearing.

“Stop laughing, I feel gross,” Lance whined, voice muffled by the blankets.

And really, Keith could understand. He was still sick and confined to his room, everyone insisting he rest when despite how tired he was, he was too uncomfortable to sleep. His heart squeezed ever so slightly.

Keith got up from where he was sitting at Lance’s desk and moved over to the lump of blankets on the bed. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

“Mmm,” the lump of blankets groaned, twitching slightly.

“How about I run you a hot bath?” Keith suggested. “It’ll help clear your sinuses, you’ll be all nice and warm, and you can wash the sweat off your skin.”

Lance’s head popped out from the lump of blankets. “That actually sounds really nice.”

“Yeah?” Keith grinned, stepping towards the bathroom to fill the tub.

He pushed a button on the control panel next to the shower and the floor began to lower itself, seamlessly converting into a tub. He cranked the faucet to hot, just the way Lance liked it and started to pour some of what he knew was Lance’s bubble bath (despite the fact that he couldn’t read a lick of the label) into the stream. When he turned around Lance appeared behind him, a shy look on his face. “Will you join me?”

Keith chuckled, it wasn’t exactly what Keith had in mind, but would it be so wrong? “Okay.”

Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and tugged him closer. Then he gripped the hem of Lance’s hoodie and pulled it up and over his head, leaving his hair ruffled and sticking up. Keith felt warmth spread across his chest as he let his eyes roam over Lance’s flushed face and he couldn’t fight the smile off his own.

Lance just rolled his eyes, the fond look never leaving his face and pulled the remaining shirt off his torso. Keith chuckled again and went about removing his own clothes, the same as Lance.

Stepping into the tub, the water was scalding. Keith preferred his shower temperature a little lower than Lance, but he’d manage. Once he was settled in, he motioned for Lance to join him, his back facing Keith.

Lance sighed as he hit the water and practically melted into Keith’s chest. They stayed like that for a few minutes, the bubbles floating around them and Lance shut his eyes and breathed deeply, letting the steam open his airways.

“I already feel better,” Lance murmured, eyes still blissfully shut.

Keith leaned forward and uncapped Lance’s not-strawberry scented shampoo. He poured a bit out onto his hand and coaxed Lance into sitting up again so he could wash his hair. Keith gently massaged the soap into Lance’s hair, dragging his nails along his scalp, dreamy sighs falling from Lance’s mouth. The sounds stirred the butterflies in Keith’s stomach and he felt warm all over.

Never in all Keith's twenty years would he have thought someone could make him so soft. Yet there he was, taking a bubble bath for Christ's sake with the man who’d stolen his heart. But then again, there were a lot of things he never thought he'd be. A war hero. An alien. A brother. A boyfriend. But he was learning there were endless possibilities to the things he could be. And they didn't have to be confined to one category either. Next week there would be war. And he'd be a fighter, and a pilot, and a killer. He'd be covered in blood and bruises and sweat. But today he was a friend, and a teammate, and a lover. And he was covered in bubbles and soft linens and affection. 

It was Lance who showed him that, that he could be so much more than what he felt he had to be. “You can be both,” Lance had told him in the early stages of their relationship. When Keith was still struggling with the concept of what it meant for him to be in a relationship. “You can be the Keith who's all badass and crushes Galra beneath the weight of his sword and you can be the Keith who does face masks with me and lets me cuddle him to death. You don’t have to choose, cariño.” For all that Lance acted young and goofy, sometimes it felt like he was wise beyond his years. And that was just one of the things he adored about him.

Keith leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of Lance’s neck, soap clinging to his lips as he backed away. He rinsed the shampoo from Lance’s hair and pulled him back to lay on his chest. Lance sank into him again, head resting back on his shoulder as Keith began to shampoo his own hair.

Keith had to admit he was a little surprised Lance was keeping his hands to himself. Bubble baths between them usually went a little… differently. But maybe he was too tired. Or enjoying the peacefulness of it too much to break it. Maybe he was aware of his own limits for once and decided to save himself the exhaustion. Yeah, probably not that.

Once he rinsed his own hair, Keith moved on to soaping Lance’s back and shoulders, slipping in an impromptu massage while he was at it.

“Jesus, Lance,” Keith sighed as he worked at the muscles between his shoulders, “you’re covered in knots.”

“Yeah, yeah, when am I not?” Lance winced slightly before letting out a low long sigh.

After Keith loosened a few of the knots and deemed him good enough, Lance moved to face Keith.

“Turn around, I’ll get you too.”

Keith just smiled and shook his head, “Nope. Let me take care of you for once.”

“Jerk,” Lance muttered under his breath.

“Mmhm, I love you too,” Keith grinned as he pulled both of them up and drained the tub.

He flipped the water back on and pushed the button to redirect it to come through the showerhead. Lance stood beneath the spray with his head tilted back, arms wrapped around himself and eyes closed while Keith took the opportunity to wash his own body. They finished quickly after that and soon enough Keith was turning the water off.

He wrapped Lance in a big fluffy towel before grabbing one for himself. And once he had it secured around his waist he dropped a smaller one on top of Lance’s head.

Lance made a little sound of a surprise and then Keith was ruffling the towel on his head to dry his hair. When he removed it, Lance’s hair sticking up on all ends and a light dusting of pink across his cheeks, Keith couldn’t help but laugh. Lance grinned and slapped the towel over Keith’s head, which Keith then used to dry his own hair.

Lance transferred his towel to his waist and started on his skincare routine while Keith moved back into the bedroom to find them both fresh clothes to put on. He changed into a pair of sweats and brought Lance his pajama pants, a spare shirt, and boxers. He still wore his paladin sleepwear, but more often than not, he omitted the top in favor of shorter sleeves. Something about “breathability.” 

By the time Keith made it back into the bathroom, the air still warm and foggy, Lance was on the second to last step of his routine (which Keith had genuinely thought was at least ten steps, but it turns out it was only four, and yes he knows each of the them despite Lance only successfully getting Keith to do them a handful of times.) He wrapped his arms around him and pressed a few soft kisses to his bare freckled skin. He could see the small smile that had made its way to Lance’s lips through the mirror and found a similar one plastered across his own. Lance handed Keith his toothbrush and then grabbed his own. And once they were slathered in toothpaste, they stood side by side until they were finished brushing.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Lance said quietly, flicking on the faucet to rinse off his face, and Keith busied himself with changing the blankets and sheets on the bed.

Lance had made quite the mess of them with all his tossing and turning earlier and he knew fresh ones would feel much better.

When Lance finally made his way back into the bedroom—dressed in the pjs Keith had set out for him and flipping off the light as he went—Keith grabbed him by the hands and dragged him into bed.

Bathed in the soft glow of the blue accents of the ship, Keith settled behind Lance as he’d done the other night, but Lance turned around in his hold so they were face to face.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me these past few days,” Lance breathed out, minty breath just barely brushing past his face, “I know I can be a little difficult.”

“Who, you?” Keith feigned disbelief. “Never.”

“Keeeith,” he whined. “Come on, I’m trying to express my immense gratitude to you.”

Keith let out a quiet chuckle, “I know. I’m sorry. But really it’s no trouble. You are my boyfriend, even if you are a heat leech.”

Lance didn’t hide the smile that graced his face at the word. Keith didn’t either. It felt good. It felt right. And Keith didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. 

Taking care of Lance like this was honestly the least he could do. Lance was always going out of his way to do things for Keith, even when he was perfectly capable of doing them himself. Bringing him snacks, patching his wounds, making sure he didn’t train himself to death, making him feel good. “It’s what partners do,” he had told him. So this? Was nothing. But more than that, Keith had wanted to. 

He let himself bask in the closeness, his head rested comfortably on the pillow beneath him. If he could, he’d stay like this forever.

“Please kiss me,” Lance whispered, desperation bleeding into his voice.

Keith sighed out of his nose. The fact that Lance was even asking meant he knew that he shouldn’t. But Keith did. On the forehead.

“Keeith,” Lance whined again, pouting this time, “you know what I mean.”

Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, “You know I can’t. I don’t want to get sick, sweetheart.” he kissed each of Lance’s cheeks between the sentences.

“Remember what Coran said? It’s fine, Keith, please,” Lance protested.

“Actually,” Keith retaliated, “Coran said it spreads in specific ways, not which ways. Kind of an important part to leave out actually,” he said that last bit more to himself.

Lance groaned wordlessly, pouting harder, “Please? Just one?”

He really wasn’t going to give it up was he? Keith gave a big sigh, accepting the defeat he knew he was only prolonging in the first place. He couldn’t say no to him.

“Just one,” he repeated, leaning in to gently kiss Lance on the lips.

It wasn't long by any means. It was chaste and Keith could feel the chapness of Lance’s lips while still somehow being infuriatingly plush. He’d just begun pulling away when Lance, the sneaky bastard, pressed in again, purposefully deepening the kiss.

Keith pulled back with a laugh, "What, the bubble bath didn't leave you relaxed and sated?"

"I think you got me a little too relaxed," Lance teased back in that deep voice he knows drives Keith crazy. He felt a spark of arousal low in his stomach.

And at that point Keith just couldn't hold himself back. So affected by the man in front of him, that he couldn’t help the growl that escaped his lips as he tugged Lance closer by the waist, “Insatiable.”

And then Lance’s lips were on his. Or his lips were on Lance’s. It didn’t matter when Lance was so intoxicating to Keith. All he could do was revel in it, open his mouth when Lance parted his lips, and hold on tighter. The kiss was wet. More so than usual. And their lips slid together far too easily, as if Lance’s mouth was producing more saliva than it’s supposed to. Distantly Keith thought it should be gross. He should be grossed out. But instead all it did was light something further in him.

This time when Keith swooped back in, he took Lance by surprise, taking his face within his hands as a low rumble of approval reverberated between their mouths. And he wasn't really sure how, but at some point he ended up on top of Lance, straddling his hips, the blankets pooling around them. Lance let himself be pushed back into the pillows and kissed silly, his hands wrapped tightly around Keith’s back where they snuck their way up and down the ridges of his spine beneath his shirt, skin-on-skin.

Lance broke the kiss, panting hard already. Keith took it as an opportunity to start kissing along his jaw and down his neck. Lance tossed his head to the side, giving Keith better access to the skin there, chest heaving as he failed to catch his breath. When Keith reached the junction of Lance’s neck and shoulder and sucked the skin into his mouth, Lance let out a breathy gasp, the hands that had been teasing the dip in Keith’s back swiftly finding Keith's ass and pawing at it.

Both the sound and touch ignited encouragement through Keith and he let his hands start to wander. They easily glided down Lance’s sides and snuck up under the hem of his shirt. His hands were met with flushed skin that erupted in goosebumps as Lance shuddered beneath him. Keith’s lips slipped from Lance’s neck as he turned back to face him head on. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Lance was pulling Keith back down to meet his lips. Keith was met with an open mouth and their tongues collided as Lance gripped the ends of Keith’s hair.

Keith slowly brushed his hands up and down Lance’s lithe sides, hiking his shirt up past his ribcage. His skin was warm to the touch and he was all tight muscle and golden brown skin, not even his assortment of scars could stop the glow of him. Lance let go of Keith’s hair as Keith ghosted his hands across Lance’s body. Then he gripped Keith by the hips and pulled him down into a slow grind. Keith’s breath caught and a moan escaped his lips at the sensation. He could feel Lance’s bulge against his own through the thin fabric of their pajamas and he felt the pleasure start to coil in his stomach.

Lance dragged Keith down onto himself again, this time lifting his hips up to meet his. Keith rolled his own hips down at the same time, relishing in the friction, and it wasn’t until Keith’s name shot out of Lance’s mouth that he remembered the situation they were in. 

Keith pulled himself out of the kiss, panting, “Fuck,” he breathed out, “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

Still inches from his face, Lance let out a sad whine through his own heavy breaths. All Keith could do was shake his head, a smirk on his lips as he started to move off of Lance. But before Keith could get far, Lance pressed his hips up into Keith’s again and Keith barely stifled the whimper the action had caused. And yeah, ok, Lance was hard, straining against his pants in fact. And Keith was too, but this just screamed “bad idea.”

So Keith forced himself to sit back, resting on Lance’s thighs, his hands slowly dragging themselves away from Lance’s stomach, leaving his shirt rumpled where it was pushed up to his chest. Lance was still sick and should be resting. His skin wasn’t quite feverish like it had been yesterday, but Keith could still tell it wasn’t the arousal alone. The last thing he needed was physical activity of any kind. And he told Lance as much. Lance, however, returned the sentiment with a frown plastered across his face where he was beneath Keith. 

“Keith,” Lance grumbled, massaging his hips, “I feel fine, I swear. Let me make you feel good.”

His face was flushed an oh-so-pretty pink and his lips, though pulled downwards, were red and plump from being kissed so feverishly. And god, was it tempting, it had been one hot minute since they’d had proper alone time, but…

“Nope,” Keith remained adamant. “We are not having sex right now. Not while you’re sick.”

Making out was one thing. His boyfriend was attractive, sue him. But sex? Who in their right mind has sex with someone who’s sick? Honestly, who in their right mind makes out with someone who’s sick? He could just see the aftermath now; Lance getting worse again and no one knowing why. Except Keith would know why. Wouldn’t that be a way to reveal their relationship. “Sorry guys, it’s actually my fault Lance is worse, ‘cause I was horny and decided it was ok to screw around while he was still sick!”

Lance huffed out a sigh, “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

Lance didn’t wait for an answer before he started reaching into his still tented pants, just inches from Keith’s own crotch. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Keith was frozen for half a second before his hands shot out, stopping Lance’s where they were just beneath his waistband. “Wait.”

Lance quirked a single eyebrow at him before Keith continued, “Let me?”

Lance wordlessly moved his hands out of the way, a look of eager but cautious anticipation taking over his face.

Keith shuffled forward slightly, his hands reconnecting with tan skin, dragging them down from his ribs to his waistband, before he gingerly reached into Lance’s boxers. He pushed them and his pants down just far enough to spring Lance free from them and took his time admiring the freshly exposed skin. Keith breathed out a sigh and Lance’s dick twitched slightly at the brush of air. He was always a little mesmerized by it. The way it always looked so pretty, pink and silky, how it moved under his touch, the slight curve of it, the length, the things it could reach. When he finally wrapped his hand around Lance’s gently pulsing cock, Lance sighed at the contact, throwing his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

Keith adjusted his grip, running his thumb slowly up the underside and past his veins before squeezing lightly, feeling him harden at the touch. He swiped the freshly leaking precum from the head and spread it down his length, starting a slow pace. Bringing a hand up beside Lance’s head, Keith braced himself on one arm, leaning down to reconnect his lips to Lance’s, much more softly this time. He matched his strokes to the slide of their tongues as he felt Lance hum against his lips. Lance’s hands made their way back into Keith’s hair as he tried to keep up with Keith’s pace of fervent kisses. They were slow, but they were deep and it was a testament to Lance still being unwell, breaking away to gasp a breath before sealing their lips again.

Keith didn’t stay there long. Showing him mercy, he left his mouth to trail back down his jaw to his neck as he worked Lance the way he knew he liked, twisting slightly on the upstrokes. Lance’s hands trailed down Keith’s back and landed on his hips again, tugging him forward and into his body. He shifted under him so that Keith’s crotch slotted into the crease between his thigh and hip, encouraging Keith to grind down into the space. His breath hitched at the contact and then he sighed into Lance’s neck, taking pleasure in the way Lance’s Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his lips when he swallowed. He let himself rut against Lance’s hip, breath shuddering as he relieved the pressure. He didn’t even have to look to know he was leaking through his pants.

Lance was slowly turning to putty in his hands as he laved his tongue across the junction of his shoulder and neck, dragging his teeth lightly over the mark he already made there, causing another shiver to ripple through Lance. He let out a wrecked “Keith,” at the action as his hips ticked forward just slightly. He’d been keeping himself still and Keith wanted to change that.

Spurred on by his reactions, Keith ran his thumb along the underside of the head before pressing it to the slit of Lance’s cock, needing to hear Lance say his name again. 

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance moaned loudly, his hands flying up to grip at Keith’s shoulders as his hips began to cant upwards into Keith’s hand.

Lance was consumed by the pleasure now, chasing his orgasm as Keith sped up his hand, the slick slap of wet skin amplified by the way Lance was rocking his hips to meet Keith’s hand. Keith was aching in his pants now, impossibly hard as his dick begged to be touched. But he couldn’t reach down to palm at himself. He wouldn't take his eyes off Lance for even a second, not when his sick addled brain was letting Keith see a side of him he hardly ever got to see. So he resolved to grind himself harder into Lance’s hip. He nearly choked out a moan at the sensation. With Lance’s perfect velvety length in his hand, his breath in his ear, his hands wrapped tightly around him, and his hard body beneath him, it was almost too much. He was completely enveloped by Lance and he couldn’t get enough.

Lance's grip tightened on Keith’s shoulders when he began to suck a new mark next to the previous one on Lance’s neck. 

“Keith,” Lance stuttered out, “I’m— hah —I’m close.”

Keith detached his mouth from Lance’s neck, abandoning the mark to see him writhing beneath him. Lance’s eyes were scrunched shut and his eyebrows tightly furrowed, mouth parted as fast breaths left his lips. His hips were starting to lose their pace, thrusting erratically and without rhythm, fucking into Keith’s hand.

Keith wasn’t much better off, practically humping Lance’s thigh, the friction starting to burn, but not caring in the heat of the moment, ready to get off on pleasuring Lance alone. And yet, Keith could tell Lance was holding back, like he was trying to make this last as long as possible, shaking with the exertion of keeping himself together.

Pressing their foreheads together, Keith whispered to Lance, “I got you, let go for me, sweetheart.”

As the last thread of his restraint snapped, Lance keened against Keith’s open mouth, lips going all but slack, back arching as he released into his hand. Hot jets of cum shot across Lance’s stomach and that was enough for Keith to tumble after him.

“Shit, Lance—” Keith cried as his hips jerked, a warm, wet sensation growing in his pants.

Keith managed to slow his hand, stroking Lance through his orgasm, careful to stop before Lance reached overstimulation.

They were both reduced to panting gasps, chests heaving with each breath as Keith dropped his head onto Lance’s shoulder. They stayed there for a moment as Lance began to soften in Keith’s hand. He let go gently, reaching over to Lance's desk to grab the tissues from it. He wiped off his hand first, but when he moved to clean off Lance's stomach, he was stopped with a hand around his wrist.

“What about you?” Lance’s eyes searched Keith’s.

Keith felt himself blush deeply and he averted his eyes from Lance’s heavy gaze. “Uh, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed for a second and then he dropped his eyes to the front of Keith’s pants. He found himself following his gaze down. Aaand yeah. He needed to change.

Lance let out a breath of astonishment, gaping at Keith. And Keith rolled his eyes, finishing wiping down Lance’s stomach before it could dry and then he’d really need to clean up.

“Like you’ve never come in your pants,” Keith grumbled.

“What? No, that’s not—Keith that’s hot. I didn’t know I…” Lance looked up at him, at a loss for words.

With a delicate press of his lips to Lance’s, Keith gently tucked him back into his boxers. And then snapped his waistband for good measure as he got up from the bed. He tossed the tissues out and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up and change his clothes. 

Lance really shouldn’t be so shocked. Keith’s literally in love with him for Christ’s sake. Honestly all Lance really had to do was put his hands on him and that would be enough. Of course he’d get off on getting Lance off.

When he got back to the bed, Lance was already starting to drift off, finally worn out and sated. Keith couldn’t help the growing warmth in his chest or the butterflies taking flight in his stomach as he slid himself back in beside Lance again. Wrapping his arms around him, Lance wrapped his around Keith, curling himself into his chest.

“I love you,” Lance sighed contently without opening his eyes and Keith held him a little tighter. 

⁂

The next morning Lance woke up before Keith, sitting up and yawning, stretching his arms above his head as his joints cracked in response. His muscles didn’t ache as much today and it felt like the fog that had been surrounding his head the past few days had finally cleared. 

The past couple days were nothing short of awful. Ok maybe that’s an exaggeration, but his head had felt like it was filled with cotton and everything around him was a fuzzy mirage, especially that first day. He’d alternated between freezing and scorching and his head had insisted on throbbing through it all. Don't get him wrong, he was still stuffed up, and his throat was still scratchy, but he was finally on the up and he couldn’t be more glad.

He peered down at the sleeping body next to him. Keith’s arms were still loosely wrapped around his waist, and his brows were furrowed, his lips parted just slightly. Lance nudged him gently, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Wake up, mouthbreather.”

Keith groaned and tightened his grip around Lance’s waist, burying his face into his hip. Lance laughed and ran a hand through Keith’s hair, “Come on, let’s see what’s on the schedule today and then maybe we can go back to bed.”

He carefully extracted himself from Keith’s grasp and slipped into the bathroom. And after doing his business and brushing his teeth, he reentered the room to see Keith sitting upright in bed with his head in his hands.

“Oh come on, it’s not that early and we didn’t go to bed that late.” Lance crossed his arms, a fond look on his face.

“It’s not that, idiot,” Keith grumbled, looking up at Lance with a scowl on his face, “you got me sick!”

“What?” The playful look on Lance’s face dropped, replaced by a frown and eyes filled with concern.

He walked the remaining distance to the bed and knelt down next to Keith, cupping his cheeks between his hands to get a better look at him. His eyes did look bleary… and he could hear the growing congestion as he sniffled.

Keith pouted and looked away. “I knew this was gonna happen.”

Lance just rolled his eyes, frown not budging. “Then you need to eat and you need medicine. Come on.”

He grabbed Keith by the hands and pulled him out of bed. He stalked off to the bathroom and Lance set out a sweater and Keith’s red lion slippers for him before heading off to the kitchen. It was probably better that they didn’t show up together, right? He trusted Keith would meet him there, even though he’d rather usher him there himself.

When he arrived, everyone was already milling about, Pidge trudging in right after Lance. They greeted him with warm smiles and Lance assured Hunk that he didn’t need his temperature taken again.

Keith arrived no more than five minutes later and unceremoniously plopped himself down into his seat without bothering to get himself anything to eat, letting his head fall face-first onto the table. Lance grabbed a second bowl of goo and sat down beside him, sliding the bowl in front of him.

“Here,” Lance spoke quietly, “since this is my fault anyway.”

Keith lifted his head, peeled his eyes open, and took the bowl, making an affirmative grumble as he did so.

Lance met Hunk and Pidge’s gazes from across the table, a sheepish look on his face. Pidge shook her head and Hunk simply shrugged, though both did so fondly. No one seemed surprised, even Shiro had a look on his face that said “Well what did you think was gonna happen?” They all expected this. Lance could only imagine how he must have looked, hanging off of Keith the past few days. And Lance felt bad, ok! He really did! Coran said he wasn’t contagious and yet…

“Hey, Coran?” Lance called out. “Do you have any more of those pills you gave me? I, uh, I think I got Keith sick…”

“Of course, my boy, but, hmm, that’s odd.” Coran’s brow furrowed as he pinched his mustache. “Parafebris sibilasis only spreads through saliva.”

… what?

Suddenly everyone’s eyes shot to them, wide and accusative. Keith’s spoon clattered onto the table and Lance felt a furious blush creep across his face and all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Why didn’t you tell us that!?” Lance shrieked, refusing to look over at Keith who he was positive was just as red, or redder, than himself. 

“Well I figured you locked lips with someone on Taleran. Thought you might not want everyone to know,” Coran replied easily. “In fact some even call it the smooching sickness.”

Lance's mouth dropped open and he was rendered speechless for a couple moments. Mono. He had space mono. Not space flu, space mono. And while that was… actually very considerate of Coran, it was also not helping!

But it was ok! It was all good! They hadn’t totally let the cat out of the bag yet! He could’ve spit in Keith’s food! Or— or shared a drink with him! Yeah! They just needed to get on the same page.

But when Lance turned to face Keith, an alibi on his tongue, Keith was already scowling at him and muttered, “I’m never kissing you again.”

Well fuck! Nevermind! The cat was now very much out of the bag. In fact, the cat was running across the table, stepping in food goo and smearing it along as it went.

“I knew it!” Pidge’s voice rang across the table, pointing at them before Lance could get his bearings. The grin on Hunk’s face was bigger than he’d ever seen it, and Shiro looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Well, I knew there was something going on with you two, though I’ll be honest, I thought Keith was somehow responsible for you getting sick. I didn’t know you two were sittin’ in a tree,” Pidge continued.

“Oh we’re doing a lot more than sitting,” Lance said without thinking.

Keith’s scowl somehow deepened at that. Fuck.

“I wasn’t aware you brought a tree into the castle,” Allura said, sounding genuinely confused.

“I’m leaving,” Keith growled as he stood up from his chair and started stomping his way to the exit.

“Keith! Wait! It was the spitty alien, come on!” Lance cried, scrambling after him.

“Hold on!” he heard Hunk call out. “For how long?!”

Lance expected Keith to have taken off down the hall and prepared himself to chase after him, but was surprised to find him waiting right outside the door. 

“Kei—mmph,” Lance started, but Keith grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and crashed their lips together.

The kiss was searing, and hard, and over way too soon. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together and Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck.

“So much for never kissing me again,” Lance said, breathless.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to out us like that,” Keith breathed, surprisingly earnest.

Lance sighed, “It was a little overdue, though, wasn’t it?” He reconnected their lips before parting again. “What do you say? Wanna go back in there and answer all those questions?”

“Mmm,” Keith pretended to think, capturing Lance’s lips once more, “maybe in a little bit. I think I’d rather sit in a tree with you a little while longer.”

Lance snorted and leaned in to kiss him more deeply this time. They had a lot of explaining to do. But as long as they had each other, they had nothing to worry about.