RuePetals



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    “Then come see me,” Lance murmurs, and it makes Keith’s heart pound behind his breastbone. “Us, I mean. Once a week or something? Like mental health check-ins. We can just hang out, or...or go on low-priority, low-stress missions? Scouting, or flower-picking for Coran, or supply runs. Dumb stuff. Just...so we know how you are. I don’t want...I mean, we all miss you. And I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but...it feels like you’re not...not okay, Keith.”

    Well, Keith thinks, a little weakly. He never really stood a chance, did he?

    “Okay,” he says, right away. No fight. No refusal.

    His life is a hell of a lot easier when he lets himself cave under all the ways he wants Lance's luminous attention, and company, and friendship. All the ways he wants Lance, full stop.

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    04 May 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    this fic. THIS FUCKING FIC. is so cute???? so soft???? so gorgeously written?????? and so fucking funny?????? like hacked both lungs laughing and am now genuinely concerned for my body's ability to pass oxygen into the blood and have carbon dioxide removed hilarious?????? what the fuck am I supposed to do with my self and my mushy feelings and the warm happy tears drowning my eyes as we speak????? I?? demand???? justice??????

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    Lance turns his face towards the tree line meandering off to the edge of the coast, feeling every system in his body light up simultaneously. “Keith.”

     

     

    He lifts his wrists and Keith’s hands follow them up. He shifts closer on his knees, mouth turned down, desperate.

     

    “So you can’t expect me to leave you here,” Keith says, “I know that I’m asking you to walk away from your home. But you’re asking me to walk away from mine.”

     

    (prompt: when they get to Earth, Lance wants to stay)

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    03 May 2021

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    "Huh." Hunk leans back and takes an impressive chomp of Keith's pastry, devouring half of it in one go. "I've got nothing. Though, I gotta say I'm surprised you two didn't do anything for your anniversary."

    Keith knocks over his mug in a extremely rare display of clumsiness. "What?" he asks, horrified.

    "Your anniversary, yesterday? I was going to cook you guys a nice dinner, but Lance said you were going out." Hunk tosses the last corner of the pastry delicately into his mouth before peering closely at Keith's pained expression. "Ohhhh," he says in revelation. "I get it now. But, hey! At least we solved the mystery for why he's mad at you."

    Or: Keith forgets his and Lance's first-year anniversary and struggles to make amends.

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    02 May 2021

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    "You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him.

    "Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife."

    Or: Lance is badly injured and has a few skeletons in his closet. Or maybe just the one.

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    02 May 2021

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    “Sorry, babe,” Keith says. He even smiles, no doubt proud of himself.

    And Lance knows it’s his fault. He started it, after all, but at least the biting term of endearment made sense when he was the one doing it. Keith had been talking to him like they were some old married couple. The kind who’ve been married too long and don’t love each other anymore and gripe over meaningless shit, only managing to piss each other off even further.

    That’s why Lance called him dear. Because it made sense in the situation. It was a calculated insult. A strategic jab.

    Keith, on the other hand, is weaponizing the term of endearment without any rhyme or reason, simply to get back at Lance.

    Or: Keith and Lance have gotten into the habit of using pet names as condescending insults. They're not really terms of endearment.
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    17 Apr 2021