Lifesavers~ Klance

12

Lance awoke to the soft sizzle of burning butter, a sweet smell wafting past his nose. The sunlight streamed in through his sheer curtains, and while it wasn't entirely unwelcome, he pulled the sheets back over his head with a grunt. "Lance! I know you're awake!" That voice. "Come on, babe, get up! I made pancakes!" Babe..?  Sighing, Lance shoved the blankets off and slid out of bed, slowly lowering himself into his chair as he did every morning. This morning, though, there was no grimace that always accompanied the pang of pain shooting through him. He wheeled into the kitchen where Keith stood in front of the stove. His hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and a light blush dusted his cheeks as he folded another pancake onto a plate. "There you are. You don't usually sleep this late." Keith rested the spatula on the countertop before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "Morning."

"M...m-morning," Lance croaked. He could feel the heat rising on the back of his neck, and was sure his face was the same. "How many pancakes for the most beautiful boy in the world, then, huh?" Keith turned away with a smile, returning to the hot stove and turning the heat down. "W..what? What are you ..talking about..? M- me?!" Lance's eyes widened, and his hands gripped the wheels of his chair a little harder. Keith scoffed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes with a quick puff. "Yes, you, dumbass. What's got you so out of sorts this morning? And why haven't I gotten my good morning kiss?" He's teasing me. He's gotta be teasing me. He's kidding. Keith bent down and rested his forehead on Lance's, grinning. "Better not keep me waiting. The pancakes are going to get cold." Lance nodded slightly, his face hot. He leaned in a little, feeling the hot rush of air from Keith's breath on his lips and involuntarily shuddering.

Another gasp brought Lance back to reality, his eyes shooting open. That sweet smell hadn't faded away yet, and somewhere in his mind, butter was still sizzling. "Lance, I know you're awake!" He glanced at his lap, piled with blankets as he still lay in bed, and then shoved his face back into the pillows with a groan. What was that dream? What was going on? "You good, man? If you don't hurry the pancakes are gonna get cold." Keith called from the kitchen. Pancakes? Lance lowered himself into his chair and wheeled into the kitchen, noting the pang that burst through his ribs and legs with a short sigh of relief. His relief quickly faded, though, as Keith came into view, his hair falling around his shoulders, humming as he turned the stove off. "There you are. You don't usually sleep this late."

"It was a... long night." You could say that.

"Are you okay? You seem... out of it."  Keith frowned, leaning closer to place a hand on Lances forehead. "Yeah! I'm uh, I'm fine!" Keith shifted his hand a bit, still growing. "Your face is hot. I think you're sick."
Lance shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, really. All good." In a weak attempt to convince his friend, Lance shot a finger gun and a wink at him, but Keith wasn't buying it. "Nah, man. No wonder you slept so much. Go lie down. I'll make some tea. You're sick." Keith turned away, his back facing the wheelchair. "Keith..? Do you ever tie your hair up?"  He looked over his shoulder. "Hmm? No. Not really."

"Would you mind if I tried?" The words slipped out before Lance could control himself. He immediately had the urge to cover his mouth, but it was too late. "...Sure, I guess. But later. First, you go lie down and start getting better."  He quickly touched Lance's shoulder before moving his hand up to ruffle his hair.  Lance flushed. "Kay, Keithy. If you say so." Head down, he returned to the room that his dream had totally ruined for him.