Summer Moments [Klance]

Summer Moments

The rooms quite, all soft hums from the fan sitting in the window of Lance's far too small room, the air hot and sticky, lingering on every inch of his skin. It's uncomfortable, the way the summer heat intrudes on them. The soft, caramel brown of his hair sticks to the top of his forehead, clinging to the damp sweat that's collected there. He's in the least amount of clothing you can have on with another person in the room to not make it uncomfortable. His pale blue tank top rests disheveled on his body, showing the faint trail of hair that almost blends into his skin around his belly button, trailing down to the black waist band of basketball shorts. He shifts cautiously as to not bump into the boy lying next to him. He moves his hands so they're under his head, studying the texture of the white ceiling. Lance never understood why they bothered with the ridges and dips, it seemed like a useless waste of time and material.

"You should invest in an window air conditioner."

Lance shifts his gaze for a sheer moment. Keith doesn't look any more comfortable. His cheeks are a light hue of flushed pink, it's visible among the rest of his pale skin. His hair is pulled up in a makeshift ponytail- if you could even call it that anymore, a good majority of his unruly hair has fallen out of it by now, unattended during their movie marathon. Dark bangs are clinging to his forehead. His dark eye meet Lance's slight lighter ones.

"Have one, just not working," Lance hums in reply returning his attention to the ceiling as if it's going to give him answers to why it is the way it is. Who made such a dumb decision? It doesn't even look good.

"You're coming to my house until it works again then."

"Ew no. Your dad hates me." Lance has heard the man say it before, maybe not in those words exactly, or in any words at all, but he shows it in various other ways. It's a good thing Lance doesn't particularly care much for him either.

"Be more likable then."

Lance rolls his eyes in reply. It's nearly midnight, he doesn't have the energy to come up with a snarky reply back. The small, ancient TV sitting on his long, wooden dresser has long since been turned off. The only glow in the room is that coming from the full moon outside. It gives the room a soft glow through his blinds hanging over his long window. The moment is quiet, calm. Lance lives for times like this. The soft chirps of crickets outside his window add to the vibe.

"I haven't told him yet."

Lance returns his gaze to Keith once more. He needs more context.

"Haven't told him what yet?"

"Us- I haven't told him about us."

"Oh."

Lance should have put that together. As far as he knew, Keith and his father had always had a close relationship. Lance could see this, even from an outsider's perceptive. However, giving the middle-aged man's mindset, he can understand why Keith hasn't said anything to him yet.

"I.." He paused. Lance takes the opportunity to read his facial expression for emotions. Where was this going?

Keith's eyebrows are lightly furrowed, gaze intent on the door at the foot of his full-sized bed. He's trying to find the words, Lance recognizes. He remembers the look from countless memories that felt like so long ago, despite the most important one only being from a month ago. So, it's going there.

"Do you think he'll get mad?"

Lance recognizes this one too. The tone of his whispered voice is unsure, his eyes are begging for reassurance, it seems. He doesn't hesitate to give him that.

"If you're talking about being gay then he shouldn't. Your dad loves you, Keith. But, if you're talking about me, then yes, he definitely will be."

"He doesn't hate you that much. He just thinks you're a little annoying."

"That's reassuring," Lance's tired voice laces with a dose sarcasm, "Really helps the ego too."

"You don't need help with your ego. It's already big enough."

He glares in his boyfriend's direction, however, there's no bite behind it. There's hasn't been any for quite a while now.

"But really," Keith pauses, turning on his side so he's facing Keith, arm underneath the pillow covered with a black and white star case, "Do you think he'll still.. He doesn't really.."

Lance turns on his side, his elbow ends up touching Keith's under the pillows sitting under their heads. He can tell Keith doesn't want to say it, he can't force the words to leave his lips. Lance won't force him to either.

"Everything's going to be fine, Keith, I promise," Lance doesn't know if he should promise something like that. He knows Keith's dad, and his views on the topic, but he does it anyway, "If not I'll kick his ass."

Keith rolls his eyes, "Sure you will."

Lance gives a distant, 'mhm' in reply, eyes gently closed. The room returns to being filled with the hum of his fan, and the soothing sound of crickets from outside. He's reminded once again why summer is his favorite season. It's because he can have moments like this, moments where they're not worried about their appending high school doom, or the stupid drama that surrounds the school's hallways. It's soft and gentle, a moment that can't be touched by any outside presence. It's just him and Keith, laying in his bed, enjoying the hushed conversation between them. It's times like this when he remembers just how hopelessly and utterly in love with Keith Kogane he really is.

"Lance?"

Dark blue eyes open slightly, starring at Keith, who again where's that face. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

Keith has never said those words to him. They've used 'like', not 'love'. With the slight change of words, he feels at tremendous change in the way his chest flutters with an indescribable warmth, one that isn't uncomfortable like the long forgotten humidity of his room. His lips pull into a warm smile, one softer than his usual grin. This one has far fewer teeth.

"I love you too." The words roll off his tongue with ease like he was meant to say them. Keith shifts a bit, propping himself up on his elbow so he's slightly over Lance. He leans down and presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips before he shifts, resting his head on his chest.

And, yes, he thinks, I was meant to say them.