Lance's Guide to Love

Prologue

Note: I didn't steal this from AO3. PoorUnfortunateSoul is me. 

Lance likes Keith. Hell, he'd even go as far as saying that he's in love with the guy at this point. But, man, could he be a shitty boyfriend sometimes.

"And then," Lance continues, "he tells me that he doesn't know how to cuddle. Who the hell doesn't know how to cuddle? It's like a hug, except you like, lay down for it. It's not exactly hard."

Pidge hums to show that they are listening, but they don't look up from whatever gadget they're working on. Lance hasn't quite figured out what it is yet.

"Anyways, to make a long story short because I know that you're only humoring me because Hunk is sick and you don't want me to bother him-"

"Thank you," Pidge cuts in, glancing up at him.

"-you're welcome. As I was saying, long story short, Keith got mad that I called him out on his bullshit and stormed out. What's your genius analysis on the situation?"

Pidge pauses their tinkering for a second, thinking it over. Lance finally sits down next to them, and he's careful not to bump the thing they're working on. They seem relieved that Lance is finally sitting. He can't help it; he paces and is heavily animated when he rants, especially when it comes to Keith.

"Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe Keith really doesn't know how to cuddle?" Pidge asks. Lance snorts. "I'm serious! Keith grew up in a few different foster homes, didn't he?"

"Yes?" Lance says, dragging out the word in confusion.

"Look, you guys grew up in entirely different environments. Your family was loving and supportive and Keith..." They trail off, and both of them grimace at the words Pidge left implied. "Children that aren't nurtured when they're young, don't know how to nurture others when they're older."

Lance's eyebrows squish together in confusion, and Pidge sighs.

"Okay, a lot of how you function as an adult, depends on how well your parents or caregivers did at raising and loving you. I mean, a lot of people that we consider to be serial killers, and show no emotion when they do the killings, we call crazy. They aren't really what we consider 'crazy' because 'crazy' has no explanation, but psychologically speaking, there's a reason that they kill. Most of the time, it's because no one bonded with them when they were a baby. The whole design of a baby is to make you fall in love with them-"

Lance breaks up Pidge's ranting with a bark of laughter. Pidge gives him The Look.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just- you said 'design' like someone made a robot baby or something. I'm sorry, continue, I'm interested in whether or not my boyfriend is secretly a serial killer."

Pidge rolls their eyes.

"Keith isn't a serial killer. People who didn't bond as a baby don't feel emotions like you or I do, and we both know Keith displays evidence of feeling things."

Lance nods solemnly. Sometimes, he worries about the sheer amount of feelings that his boyfriend seems to have.

"Keith obviously bonded as a baby, but there were still some crucial years where he was basically just... alone. We learned, subconsciously, how to nurture and give affection to others through the affection we received, but if Keith never experienced the amount we did..."

"Then he wouldn't know how to give any," Lance finishes. "Quiznak, and I yelled at him for it."

Pidge hums.

"Yeah, you did. That's normally what happens. People like Keith can still learn how to do that stuff, but no one really wants to teach an eighteen plus year old what cuddling means."

Lance bangs his head back against the wall, and Pidge winces at the sound.

"So, what do I do?"

Pidge shrugs.

"Apologize."

"Apologize," Lance repeats, "Right, yeah. Okay, I can do that. Thanks for listening, Pidge."

"Anytime," Pidge says, turning back to tinker with their gadget, "And by anytime, I mean anytime that Hunk isn't sick. I'm not your therapist."

"You wound me," Lance says, but he's grinning.

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Lance, as per usual, finds Keith exiting Shiro's room. He briefly wonders if Shiro is more open to playing therapist to Keith than Pidge is to himself, before barreling right into Keith.

Keith looks at Lance in surprise, as he slaps his hands against the wall on either side of his head. They make eye contact, and Lance can see Keith trying not to shrink back from the awkwardness of it.

"You weren't loved as a baby," Lance blurts out, before realizing that he probably should've said that more delicately. Or not at all.

Keith scowls.

"Gee, thanks for the update, Lance."

He tries to sound angry, but Lance can hear the hurt undertones. He tries not to let it get to him as he pushes forward.

"Okay, that came out wrong. What I meant to say, was that I talked to Pidge-"

"You talked to Pidge about how no one loved me when I was a baby?" Keith asks, unimpressed.

"Oh, my god, can you please forget that I said that? For ten seconds?" Keith rolls his eyes, but he nods. "Okay, good. Anyways, I talked to Pidge after our fight, because Hunk is sick with some space flu, and they told me that you might've not been given the amount of affection that they or I did since your home life wasn't the best. They said that if you didn't get it, then you might really not know how to cuddle."

Keith looks away from him.

"I told you that I didn't," he mutters at the floor.

Lance's heart squeezes at the look on Keith's face. It's like he wants to be mad at Lance, but it keeps coming back to him. There's a want to know how to cuddle plastered across his expression, and Lance can't believe that something like that could exist.

"I know," Lance says, squeezing Keith's shoulders, "I know you don't. And I'm sorry that I yelled at you instead of tried to teach you. I promise I'll teach you all about love and affection and all that gross girly stuff from now on, okay?"

Keith looks back at Lance. Something like hope and gratefulness flickers in his eyes.

"Okay," Keith says.

"Good," Lance says, smiling. "Now, lets go somewhere else and I'll teach you all about cuddling, because I'm sure Shiro would like to be able to leave his room sometime today."

The both hear a muffled "thank you" from through the door, and Keith blushes. Lance snorts.

"You can tell him all about our love life, but God forbid he hear it."

Keith rolls his eyes. Lance drops his arms and they both head down the hallway.

Grinning, Lance slips his hand into Keith's and says, "This is called hand holding."

"I know what hand holding is, you ass," Keith says, dropping Lance's hand and whacking him playfully in the stomach before taking off running.

"Just checking," Lance says, chasing after him.