I'm glad you didn't die, idiot

I feel fucking fantastic

Resting his elbow on the bed, Lance leans down head in palm to stare at Keith.

"Keeeeeeef, babbbbbby." Lance sing-songs, nuzzling his nose against Keith's, who scrunches his face up in annoyance, eyes squeezed shut.

Lance presses a short peck on Keith's cheek and then one on the other.

Groaning, Keith slowly blinks his eyes open. "Wha-" His voice is deep and gravelly and Lance's chest throbs. This is what Keith looks like when he first wakes up, hair splayed on the pillows and sticking to his face in all directions, purple eyes groggy and unfocused. This is what his first words of the day sound like, morning voice rumbling deep and raspy sending chills down Lance’s spine. And Lance can’t believe that he gets to be here experiencing whatever the frick this is and whatever the frick they are.

Humming, Lance goes back to leaving little kisses along Keith's face.

"Lance, stop." Keith giggles, squirming powerlessly in Lance's arms.

Freezing, Lance stares down at Keith, a slow languid smile pulling up his lips. "Never." He whispers, going back to leaving little pecks on his cheeks and up around the curve of his hairline.

Keith laughs, batting at Lance’s chest. "Okay, stop. I'm up.”

“Fine,” Lance sighs leaning backwards.

“Sike!” He screams, darting forward to leave a short peak on Keith's lips. Laughing softly, Keith wraps his arm around Lance’s neck pulling him back down. Lance humms against his lips, before pulling back simply to look at Keith.

“Isn't this nice?”

Keith humms thoughtful, as if pondering some moral debate. “I'm not so sure you kick.”

“Hey,” Lance points his finger directly in front of Keith’s face, “I warned you about that. Besides you stole all the covers. You, sir,” Lance places his finger onto Keith’s chest pushing lightly, “are a blanket thief.”

“While you drool.”

Lance gasps placing his hand over his heart, dramatical as if he’d been wounded in some kind of battle, “I do not.”

“Do to.”

Looking up at Keith, Lance sticks out his tongue humming around it. “While you snore. I had to roll you over twice.”

“While you’re - you’re” Keith stares up at Lance’s exaggerated pouting face, struggling to form coherent thoughts.

“Oh, run out of bad things to say about me already, that’s very unkeithy of you.”

“Well, you're clingy.”

Lance leans down, face close to Keith’s, whispering softly into the air between them. “Then stop hugging me.”

Groaning, Keith tightens his arm around Lance’s waist pushing him further against him. Falling forward, Lance’s face is squished against Keith’s chest, he laughs light and airy.

"God, I love this." Pulling his head up, Lance rests on his elbows staring at Keith.

Looking up at Lance, Keith drags his fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck. Pulling him downward, Keith kisses him short and sweet. Lance hums against his lips, leaning closer. "I could get used to this."

Pulling backwards slowly, Lance bops Keith on the nose, who scrunches up his face, nose wrinkling adorably.

"What time is it?"

Groaning, Lance lets his head flop forward resting on Keith's chest, where his voice becomes muffled and distant. "Don't want to think about that yet." Nuzzling his chest, he whispers. "Want to stay here."

Keith runs his hand up and down Lance’s back, slow and comforting. "If we're late to team training Allura's gonna flip."

"Don't care. Warm."

Laughing, Keith pulls backward, staring incredulously at Lance. "Are you saying that you don't care what Allura thinks?"

Lance tightens his arms around Keith instead of answering, nuzzling his face into his chest.

"Wow. You must really like me, giving up on Allura. Didn't think that was possible?”

Placing his finger on Keith’s lips, Lance glares up at him. "Shhhhh, too early."

"You're the one that woke me up."

Lance shrugs, shoulders dragging along Keith’s chest "Semantics."

"That's a big word for so early in the morning."

Lance hits him palm flat against his chest. "Pidge isn't the only one that gets to know big words."

Laughing, Keith leans back against his pillow. "I was just saying if you're awake enough to use words like semantics you're awake enough to get out of bed."

Groaning, Lance shuts his eyes leaning against Keith’s chest. "Why do you want me to get out of bed?" Lifting his head up to look at Keith, Lance wiggles his eyebrows. "Getting sick of me already?"

Keith rolls his eyes. "Food."

"Fine.” Lance sighs short and defeated, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “you've convinced me, but it's gonna cost you."

"What?"

"Not moving till I get what I want." Lance declares lifting his arm from the bed and flopping his weight back onto Keith.

Groaning Keith's tone is somewhere between fond and frustrated, its natural state with Lance. "What is it you want?"

Leaning forward closer to Keith, Lance drags his fingers through the silky hair that falls past his chin. "What do you think?" He whispers before leaning down to press his lips to Keith’s. He kisses slow and languid. Pulling back slowly, reluctantly, Lance leaves shorter and shorter peaks, unwilling to let the moment fade.

Lance pushes himself up onto his palms, Keith reaches forward trying to grasp him before he moves out of reach, but he’s too slow and his arm flops heavily back to the mattress. He whines deep and throaty like a cat deprived of its pets.

Laughing light and breezy, Lance stands from the bed brandishing his hand dramatically towards Keith. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to this very exciting food you talk about?”

Rolling his eyes, Keith huffs but it's followed by a small soft shake of his head. He places his hand into Lance’s waiting palm and lets himself be pulled from the bed.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Hunk asks, voice dense with concern as Lance plops himself unceremoniously next to Keith, food goo clunking on the table.

"Great."

Hunk’s eyebrows crease and his lips tighten, voice soft and slow as if he’s scared of crossing some unknown line. "Are you sure? You only got out of the pod a couple days ago and you were pretty bad."

Lance’s smile is wide and most importantly real. "I'm fucking fantastic right now."

Rolling his eyes, Keith lifts a spoonful of food goo to his mouth hoping to hide the smile slowly stretching across his face.

"So," shiro drawls unfolding his arms too wave between the two of them, "is everything solved then?"

Lance turns to Keith wiggling his eyebrows, smirk wide and crooked, smugness slipping heavily into his voice. "Everything is more than solved."

"Lance!" Keith chastises.

Elbow on the table, head in palm, Lance turns to face Keith, raising one eyebrow as if declaring some unspoken competition. "What?"

Keith groans, shaking his head dismissively. "Nothing.” He says attempting for casual, but there's a soft fond undertone he can’t seem to shake.