[ where keith finds his comfort in not thinking, lance finds himself ping-ponging between the two. one second caught up in the press of lips and their journey towards synchronized breathing, the next hearing sirens blare between his ears because, um, hi, hello, are you aware you are kissing your teammate? locking lips with the so-called enemy, because they're rivals, except they were never really rivals were they, or maybe they were, and now they're not, they're friends, but also now they're kissing friends which means wait are they more than friends or does there have to be some kind of spoken agreement about it first?
again, speaking would probably help them both out here, or at the very least lance, who's gradually making himself dizzy running circles around in his mind. is this okay? how could it not be okay? am i doing this right? does he like it? do i like it? how could i not like it? are we going steady now? do people even still go steady? oh my god what am i gonna tell my mom—
the tug along his neck works both as a mental tug back to reality and enough of a force to draw him closer. his knees bump awkwardly against keith's, but all it takes is a slight shift and, okay, cool, legs entwined, hips aligned. both hands now buried in damp, dark hair, and, hey, what if he tugs too? ]
[Yes to the last thing, not sure about the rest. sumimasen...
Speaking has actually never helped Keith do a single thing in his life. If urged to, he'd probably immediately deny kissing him or even thinking about doing that because not only is it weird to be kissing Lance -- as Keith, but it's weird to be thinking about crushes or any of that such nonsense. Where most teens spend their days pining for obscene forms of company, Keith can be found cracking Cicada 3301 or shitposting as 9MOTHER9HORSE9EYES9. No talking, no problem. Being as it were, the more he's not thinking about it (this must be what people on Fear Factor do when they have to eat tarantulas), the longer he just endure -- reciprocates, enjoys...
The more he feels like he's gonna freak the hell out. This is why we can't have nice things, so on and so forth. It doesn't happen, however, as they both seem to find comfort in violence. The tug isn't anything forceful; it's enough to compel his head a certain way, tilt his chin up. It prompts a soft gasp (™) and only then does he realize how out of breath he is.
There's hardly any space between his mouth and Lance's, even as he deliberately lets his chin sit at a particular angle where they aren't aligned enough to spur another liplock. A slight change could fix that, but right now he's just breathing, regarding Lance with half-lids. A leg outstretches underwater, bending behind the paladin's thigh in place of any encouraging (or discouraging) words. He's still not trusting himself to say anything...this is fine.]
[ oh, right, breathing. funny how two seconds ago he wouldn't have even cared for it, but now that his lungs are finally filling with oxygen again he realizes that the lightheadedness he'd been feeling may not have entirely been from that kiss.
not to say that the kiss itself hadn't been amazing because, hey, wow, that happened and hey, wow, who knew it could be so great?
the stillness these few moments of (necessary) breathing offers them is dangerous. still enough to breathe, but still enough too to think. fortunately (?) for lance, his mind kickstarts into overdrive now that it's been given the chance, working now at 1,000 thoughts per minute (as opposed fo his usual 100), and truthfully having too many thoughts is essentially the same as having no thoughts at all, in that, in the end, nothing really gets done at all.
oh, but there are things he wants. past it all, he can feel the longing and desire for it — to touch and taste again, in any way possible. so while they breathe, his forehead finds keith's, and one hand trades a handful of dark hair to grasp one pale (with tanlines!) hand beneath the water, fingers interlaced, hands linked. and while the glitter light doesn't offer them too much to see with, he still tries to search out keith's own eyes amidst the dancing shadows.
of course it's lance to break the stillness in the end. ]
[Were they not been immersed in the lagoon -- without it to smooth over the rough edges, Keith would've been more prone to shoving Lance off and calling it quits (even the pretty rocks don't stand a chance against Keith's bipolar outbursts of solitary confinement) -- asinine considering the last time they'd spent some time together. A lot of his thoughts are giant contradictions, though. All about teamwork for the Voltron but delving into interpersonal things beyond necessary is...
Tricky.
His hand eases off the rock, twining with Lance's automatically. A verbal response isn't so quick; Lance is right in front of him -- foreheads touching, even, but he's searching through the dim light, focused on his eyes (kinda) but trying to look beyond--]
I don't know-?!
[It's kneejerk, slightly concerned but likely not enough to undo any progress here. He'll draw his lower lip in, chewing at it awkwardly while moving his hand to Lance's ear (from his hair), toying lightly along the edge of that shell.]
everything about this is so tenuous, encroaching onto new and exciting (but all the more frightening for it) territory, that it truly is a blessing in disguise that it's all coming to fruition under the cozy haze of this lagoon. a metaphorical balm to the slight sting of keith's verbal withdrawal (a sting that certainly would have hit harder had most of his nerves not already been calmed by the warmth of the lagoon, the finger along his ear, the hand still holding his own just as easily). it keeps his own words a little milder, dulled. ]
...Who else am I supposed to ask...
[ there are little distractions — that tracing finger, the movement of keith's lower lip between his teeth — and he feels a tug to just indulge in them. but there persists a quiet voice in the back of his mind — they should talk about this, shouldn't they? prompto said pretending like these things never happened... that's the greater mistake, isn't it? ]
[There's a sigh -- and he's probably too close to Lance at the moment to be sighing like that, but he does it anyway because he's rude.]
How should I know-?
[If only the lagoon had magical properties in How To Speak To Someone And Be Nice At The Same Time as opposed to Horny Powers -- though those could arguably turn into the sameish thing. A hobgoblin like Keith just needs more. Uh. Help. Similarly, it'd be much easier for him to press on with the more physical aspect of whatever's going on here, standoffish(?) as he's being at the moment. He's like a golden retriever that's just been brushed for the first time.]
I don't know anything about this or what you want me to say.
[Whenever Keith's forced into an uncomfortable situation that's barely uncomfortable (they're pretty mutual in being gay at the moment), read as, Keith just needs to be difficult.]
But, [Eyes downward now; the dark haze isn't helping to make this any easier.] it's...fine, right?
[ they're probably too close for this too, but lance still attempts to give keith a dry look regardless. ]
How should I know, [ he responds in a similarly dry tone, but it's definitely not as antagonistic as keith's own knee-jerk response had been. if anything, it's just exasperated, but lance realizes maybe the reason they both don't really know how to respond is because they're both just waiting for the other to make some sort of decision.
and maybe that's asking a little too much of them now.
so he tries to dial it back a bit, tries to reassess. prompto had told him that people like keith — they do better with action than words. so in that case... ]
It feels fine.
[ perhaps he should let his actions do the talking instead, shifting his hand from keith's hair down to the curve of his jaw. let his fingers trace the line there like his hand just moments earlier, draw the pad of his thumb along the lower lip he'd just been abusing. the corner there where upper and lower meet is where he presses a soft kiss, lingering just close enough in case he's allowed any more. ]
[And that's what causes him to flare up; maybe because of the calculated tenderness, or because Lance is holding more of a presence through the affection; talking. There's a quick nod and his own hand drops to the crook of his neck, treading the bend there with the palm of his tanlined hand.]
Right.
[As soon as the corner of his mouth became the focal point, the abuse ceased and a purse was reciprocated. It happens again, of his own volition, turning toward him for fuller contact, initiating another short kiss.]
...You're fine with it?
[Belatedly, like, probably something he could have checked on prior to any of this, but he didn't have an opportunity to jack the question until now. Lance's fault.]
sure, yes, absolutely. he's floating there just barely containing himself from asking for — taking — even more. but also, what is it, and how the heck did they even get here?
and now that they're here, what next? ]
Yeah. [ he listens to the pull in his gut, urging him closer, that same quiet voice that signed in relief at the first tough — as if it'd been a long time coming.
he swallows around the lump forming in his throat, the movement causing his lips to purse again; pressed close like this, it might feel like another kiss. maybe it is. ] I think so.
[Oh, they've already moved onto casual kisses. This is great. He brings his head back, thumping it lightly against the rocks, just idly...watching Lance. He look earnest enough -- like he isn't just saying this to humor him or whatnot, which may or may not have been a distant concern. Like he was just going along with this to prevent things from getting even weirder...
Which isn't much like Lance, who screams like a woman giving birth at the first sight of something not-good.]
[ not for the first time, lance's mouth starts moving before his mind can— ]
Y....es......
[ the word is drawn out far longer than it has any right to be, too long even to still sound entirely genuine. not that the uncertainty comes from any lack of interest, or anything like that.
more just uncertainty for the sake of uncertainty. ]
[Keith, please solve the mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle in under ten minutes. Thanks. His jaw goes slack, as if prepared to clarify all things necessary but....
That's an awfully difficult thing to tackle. Keith's not even sure what he's talking about, actually; being cozy with Lance, yeah, but what if Lance just thinks he means come here every once in a while and be weird together? What if that is all he means? He's a novice at this lovestuff but he's sure there are arrangements like that.
He probably should've chatted with Riza more when he had the chance.
While the thought of a relationship is equally as scary as thinking Lance just wants to do this once in a great while (different versions of scary, ahem), worse than either of explaining himself and having Lance reject the idea.
In approximately eight seconds, he went from nearly blurting out his expectations to preemptively accepting defeat.]
during which, lance had been preparing himself for all kinds of responses. frankly, many of them favorable, so it's a wonder his hopes don't audibly deflate when keith's single-word response punctures through them so swiftly. ]
—What?
[ he's thrown, because of all the possibilities he had been conjuring up, this hadn't been one of them? ]
What do you mean "nothing," this isn't "nothing," this is so far from "nothing!"
[ they kissed! multiple times, so it's not like it could have been an accident!
[The only thing left to do is slowly sink against the rocks. He's on course to be an alligator again. Living about 95% underwater sounds good at the moment.]
[ it's weird to think keith could have any insecurities. the guy's a born natural, and 98% of the time, things just work out for him. if lance had that kind of luck, he'd never doubt himself.
then again, this isn't exactly the garrison, or flying an alien robot lion, is it... it's something so incredibly common, which unfortunately doesn't make it any less frightening. it's definitely something that needs to handled with great care... way more care than either of them can muster up in this particular moment.
even still, he should probably make sure keith doesn't drown or something. ]
Hey hey hey—
[ he puts a hand on keith's shoulder, attempting to pin him against the rocks before he sinks down too low. he leans down, eye-level. ]
Okay, I get it — no more talking now, alright? [ it's for both their sakes, tbh... the reassurance keith had just provided, that definitely opens up a huge can of worms that he needs time to parse through, except they're pleasant worms. scary, but pleasant. like giant hippos.
[Is it worse to dodge the conversation? Just as bad as downplaying it? He's not sure, but he was so close to hippo-ing out of this conversation...alas.]
[ yes.... take it from lance. who's totally had more than twenty whole kisses in his entire lifetime. yes. ]
That's besides the point.
[ the point here is that they were kissing, but more than that they were okay with the kissing, and also are okay for future kissings. (perhaps more than okay, even, but lance did promise they'd stop talking about it for now...) ]
[Is it, though? When everything's being micro-analyzed, the point is everything all at once.]
..Yeah..?
[And he's responding belatedly to the Make Out proposition, possibly made clearer when he makes no motion to head elsewhere...
Or start kissing him again, so, take it as he will. It's just, decidedly awkward when it's an established thing through conversation. Or, maybe he's just waiting for Lance to also confirm?!
[ it's the blind leading the blind at this point...
technically keith's given him the affirmative, but it sounds so uncertain that lance is tentative as all heck as he starts to draw away, just enough to allow them some room to glance around. ]
[Keith's mind is on kissing, so when Lance throws him a where, he's stunned into silence, 100% scandalized. In the midst of him reigning in a soon-to-be-outburst, something clicks in his brain and--
He's just talking about moving. Physically.]
Maybe we should go back.
[To their fake home. It's the fastest thing he can think to suggest, which is dumb as fuck considering how long it took to get there.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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again, speaking would probably help them both out here, or at the very least lance, who's gradually making himself dizzy running circles around in his mind. is this okay? how could it not be okay? am i doing this right? does he like it? do i like it? how could i not like it? are we going steady now? do people even still go steady? oh my god what am i gonna tell my mom—
the tug along his neck works both as a mental tug back to reality and enough of a force to draw him closer. his knees bump awkwardly against keith's, but all it takes is a slight shift and, okay, cool, legs entwined, hips aligned. both hands now buried in damp, dark hair, and, hey, what if he tugs too? ]
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Speaking has actually never helped Keith do a single thing in his life. If urged to, he'd probably immediately deny kissing him or even thinking about doing that because not only is it weird to be kissing Lance -- as Keith, but it's weird to be thinking about crushes or any of that such nonsense. Where most teens spend their days pining for obscene forms of company, Keith can be found cracking Cicada 3301 or shitposting as 9MOTHER9HORSE9EYES9. No talking, no problem. Being as it were, the more he's not thinking about it (this must be what people on Fear Factor do when they have to eat tarantulas), the longer he just endure -- reciprocates, enjoys...
The more he feels like he's gonna freak the hell out. This is why we can't have nice things, so on and so forth. It doesn't happen, however, as they both seem to find comfort in violence. The tug isn't anything forceful; it's enough to compel his head a certain way, tilt his chin up. It prompts a soft gasp (™) and only then does he realize how out of breath he is.
There's hardly any space between his mouth and Lance's, even as he deliberately lets his chin sit at a particular angle where they aren't aligned enough to spur another liplock. A slight change could fix that, but right now he's just breathing, regarding Lance with half-lids. A leg outstretches underwater, bending behind the paladin's thigh in place of any encouraging (or discouraging) words. He's still not trusting himself to say anything...this is fine.]
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not to say that the kiss itself hadn't been amazing because, hey, wow, that happened and hey, wow, who knew it could be so great?
the stillness these few moments of (necessary) breathing offers them is dangerous. still enough to breathe, but still enough too to think. fortunately (?) for lance, his mind kickstarts into overdrive now that it's been given the chance, working now at 1,000 thoughts per minute (as opposed fo his usual 100), and truthfully having too many thoughts is essentially the same as having no thoughts at all, in that, in the end, nothing really gets done at all.
oh, but there are things he wants. past it all, he can feel the longing and desire for it — to touch and taste again, in any way possible. so while they breathe, his forehead finds keith's, and one hand trades a handful of dark hair to grasp one pale (with tanlines!) hand beneath the water, fingers interlaced, hands linked. and while the glitter light doesn't offer them too much to see with, he still tries to search out keith's own eyes amidst the dancing shadows.
of course it's lance to break the stillness in the end. ]
...This is okay, right?
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Tricky.
His hand eases off the rock, twining with Lance's automatically. A verbal response isn't so quick; Lance is right in front of him -- foreheads touching, even, but he's searching through the dim light, focused on his eyes (kinda) but trying to look beyond--]
I don't know-?!
[It's kneejerk, slightly concerned but likely not enough to undo any progress here. He'll draw his lower lip in, chewing at it awkwardly while moving his hand to Lance's ear (from his hair), toying lightly along the edge of that shell.]
Don't ask me.
[???????????]
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everything about this is so tenuous, encroaching onto new and exciting (but all the more frightening for it) territory, that it truly is a blessing in disguise that it's all coming to fruition under the cozy haze of this lagoon. a metaphorical balm to the slight sting of keith's verbal withdrawal (a sting that certainly would have hit harder had most of his nerves not already been calmed by the warmth of the lagoon, the finger along his ear, the hand still holding his own just as easily). it keeps his own words a little milder, dulled. ]
...Who else am I supposed to ask...
[ there are little distractions — that tracing finger, the movement of keith's lower lip between his teeth — and he feels a tug to just indulge in them. but there persists a quiet voice in the back of his mind — they should talk about this, shouldn't they? prompto said pretending like these things never happened... that's the greater mistake, isn't it? ]
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How should I know-?
[If only the lagoon had magical properties in How To Speak To Someone And Be Nice At The Same Time as opposed to Horny Powers -- though those could arguably turn into the sameish thing. A hobgoblin like Keith just needs more. Uh. Help. Similarly, it'd be much easier for him to press on with the more physical aspect of whatever's going on here, standoffish(?) as he's being at the moment. He's like a golden retriever that's just been brushed for the first time.]
I don't know anything about this or what you want me to say.
[Whenever Keith's forced into an uncomfortable situation that's barely uncomfortable (they're pretty mutual in being gay at the moment), read as, Keith just needs to be difficult.]
But, [Eyes downward now; the dark haze isn't helping to make this any easier.] it's...fine, right?
[Doing this. Proceeding, even.]
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How should I know, [ he responds in a similarly dry tone, but it's definitely not as antagonistic as keith's own knee-jerk response had been. if anything, it's just exasperated, but lance realizes maybe the reason they both don't really know how to respond is because they're both just waiting for the other to make some sort of decision.
and maybe that's asking a little too much of them now.
so he tries to dial it back a bit, tries to reassess. prompto had told him that people like keith — they do better with action than words. so in that case... ]
It feels fine.
[ perhaps he should let his actions do the talking instead, shifting his hand from keith's hair down to the curve of his jaw. let his fingers trace the line there like his hand just moments earlier, draw the pad of his thumb along the lower lip he'd just been abusing. the corner there where upper and lower meet is where he presses a soft kiss, lingering just close enough in case he's allowed any more. ]
Right?
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Right.
[As soon as the corner of his mouth became the focal point, the abuse ceased and a purse was reciprocated. It happens again, of his own volition, turning toward him for fuller contact, initiating another short kiss.]
...You're fine with it?
[Belatedly, like, probably something he could have checked on prior to any of this, but he didn't have an opportunity to jack the question until now. Lance's fault.]
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sure, yes, absolutely. he's floating there just barely containing himself from asking for — taking — even more. but also, what is it, and how the heck did they even get here?
and now that they're here, what next? ]
Yeah. [ he listens to the pull in his gut, urging him closer, that same quiet voice that signed in relief at the first tough — as if it'd been a long time coming.
he swallows around the lump forming in his throat, the movement causing his lips to purse again; pressed close like this, it might feel like another kiss. maybe it is. ] I think so.
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Which isn't much like Lance, who screams like a woman giving birth at the first sight of something not-good.]
Okay....
[He gives the hand in his grip a squeeze.]
Then we're gonna keep doing this?
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Y....es......
[ the word is drawn out far longer than it has any right to be, too long even to still sound entirely genuine. not that the uncertainty comes from any lack of interest, or anything like that.
more just uncertainty for the sake of uncertainty. ]
What's "this," exactly?
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That's an awfully difficult thing to tackle. Keith's not even sure what he's talking about, actually; being cozy with Lance, yeah, but what if Lance just thinks he means come here every once in a while and be weird together? What if that is all he means? He's a novice at this lovestuff but he's sure there are arrangements like that.
He probably should've chatted with Riza more when he had the chance.
While the thought of a relationship is equally as scary as thinking Lance just wants to do this once in a great while (different versions of scary, ahem), worse than either of explaining himself and having Lance reject the idea.
In approximately eight seconds, he went from nearly blurting out his expectations to preemptively accepting defeat.]
...Nothing.
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during which, lance had been preparing himself for all kinds of responses. frankly, many of them favorable, so it's a wonder his hopes don't audibly deflate when keith's single-word response punctures through them so swiftly. ]
—What?
[ he's thrown, because of all the possibilities he had been conjuring up, this hadn't been one of them? ]
What do you mean "nothing," this isn't "nothing," this is so far from "nothing!"
[ they kissed! multiple times, so it's not like it could have been an accident!
unless—? ]
I mean. Is it "nothing" to you...?
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That's not it-! That's not what I meant.
[Lance's immediate, slight freakout is sadly reassuring. Better to have him doing that...than...agreeing with it all being for naught.]
No, it's not nothing. I was just saying....
[What was the point of that again? Right, it was just a spike in his insecurities which, how to even illustrate???]
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then again, this isn't exactly the garrison, or flying an alien robot lion, is it... it's something so incredibly common, which unfortunately doesn't make it any less frightening. it's definitely something that needs to handled with great care... way more care than either of them can muster up in this particular moment.
even still, he should probably make sure keith doesn't drown or something. ]
Hey hey hey—
[ he puts a hand on keith's shoulder, attempting to pin him against the rocks before he sinks down too low. he leans down, eye-level. ]
Okay, I get it — no more talking now, alright? [ it's for both their sakes, tbh... the reassurance keith had just provided, that definitely opens up a huge can of worms that he needs time to parse through, except they're pleasant worms. scary, but pleasant. like giant hippos.
heh, hippos.
but anyway, if they don't have talking, then... ]
...Wanna make out again?
[ it's. it was a joke.
mostly.
probably. ]
1/2
We can talk about it, I just....
[Wh--]
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[Wasn't that just basic kissing? Keith's much more lost than he could've fathomed.]
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that's a better reaction than rejecting the idea, he supposes.
though now lance is just as confused. THIS IS A VICIOUS CYCLE OF GAY THOUGHTS AND CONFUSION. ]
I mean... that's what you call it when you kiss more than once, right...
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I mean — yeah! We were! We were making out all over the place!!
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However,]
We haven't even moved from this spot...
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That's besides the point.
[ the point here is that they were kissing, but more than that they were okay with the kissing, and also are okay for future kissings. (perhaps more than okay, even, but lance did promise they'd stop talking about it for now...) ]
But, uh. You wanna?
[ move from this spot, he means... ]
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..Yeah..?
[And he's responding belatedly to the Make Out proposition, possibly made clearer when he makes no motion to head elsewhere...
Or start kissing him again, so, take it as he will. It's just, decidedly awkward when it's an established thing through conversation. Or, maybe he's just waiting for Lance to also confirm?!
He's playing a long game of Wait and See.]
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technically keith's given him the affirmative, but it sounds so uncertain that lance is tentative as all heck as he starts to draw away, just enough to allow them some room to glance around. ]
Uh. Where?
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He's just talking about moving. Physically.]
Maybe we should go back.
[To their fake home. It's the fastest thing he can think to suggest, which is dumb as fuck considering how long it took to get there.]
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