[ lance feels keith pull away and he feels something cold and heavy drop in his gut — disappointment, perhaps, or maybe even fear. his shoulder feels suddenly cold, and his head feels heavy without the support of keith's hand behind his neck, but before he can dwell too much on any immediate regret, his mind refocuses enough to realize he may have admitted defeat too soon.
there is still a hand on his chest, curled into a fist, sure, but considering this is keith, it's a pretty good sign that fist hasn't yet found his nose. it stays there, nestled just beneath his collar bone, where a single shark-tooth pendant rests, but more than that — surprisingly, miraculously — more than that, there are a pair of lips against his palm, pursing with too much intent to be an accident, and lance is surprised that fist remains from how hard his heart is hammering against his chest right now.
suddenly he hears his own words echoing back at him, you should tell them, they'd like to know and he almost laughs at himself because — man. what a hypocrite. how do you know, though, how can you be sure, and also, actually, is right now really a good time to be talking anyway?
but if you aren't talking, what are you doing...
he sucks in a sharp breath, head dropping so suddenly it's a wonder he doesn't accidentally clock keith with it. the hand he's got pressed against the rock clenches into a sudden fist, because oh god, oh god, maybe he was wrong about himself all along, oh god—
his hand and his head move simultaneously; palm shifting against those lips, reaching behind to hold the back of keith's head instead, angling his face towards; his head lifting back up just to time to catch whatever protest keith might make about the sudden manhandling. with his lips. using his lips. on keith's lips. oh god. ]
=D
there is still a hand on his chest, curled into a fist, sure, but considering this is keith, it's a pretty good sign that fist hasn't yet found his nose. it stays there, nestled just beneath his collar bone, where a single shark-tooth pendant rests, but more than that — surprisingly, miraculously — more than that, there are a pair of lips against his palm, pursing with too much intent to be an accident, and lance is surprised that fist remains from how hard his heart is hammering against his chest right now.
suddenly he hears his own words echoing back at him, you should tell them, they'd like to know and he almost laughs at himself because — man. what a hypocrite. how do you know, though, how can you be sure, and also, actually, is right now really a good time to be talking anyway?
but if you aren't talking, what are you doing...
he sucks in a sharp breath, head dropping so suddenly it's a wonder he doesn't accidentally clock keith with it. the hand he's got pressed against the rock clenches into a sudden fist, because oh god, oh god, maybe he was wrong about himself all along, oh god—
his hand and his head move simultaneously; palm shifting against those lips, reaching behind to hold the back of keith's head instead, angling his face towards; his head lifting back up just to time to catch whatever protest keith might make about the sudden manhandling. with his lips. using his lips. on keith's lips. oh god. ]