Anul_Simetra
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Summary
“What?” Lance snaps one day, frustrated and embarrassed and tired of being the only one that Keith looks at so closely. “What are you even looking at? You’re always staring at me, man, like you’re trying to fuckin’ read my soul, or something. It’s weird.”
Lance feels bad as soon as he says it. It’s defensive and mean and he tenses, preparing for Keith’s upcoming scowl, the argument.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead Keith smiles. Not one of his quick ones, a barely-there quirk of the lips, but a real grin, wide enough to make his eyes squint and face brighten. The fondness bleeds from him; Lance couldn’t miss it if he was the densest person alive.
Slowly, like he’s given Lance time to back away, he reaches foreword and tucks Lance’s hair behind his ears, even though it’s too short for that and doesn’t do anything, even though it’s clearly all about the gesture, an excuse to touch Lance gently.
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OR: Keith is soft.Bookmarked by Anul_Simetra
24 Dec 2024