Breathe Deep

Fire

It was always fairly routine for Lance to wake with a grand gesture; arms and legs reaching out as far as his limbs would allow with a grand lion's roar of a yawn. He would sit up and do a few twists at the waist, side stretches, ankle rolls – you know, get some good ol' blood flow going before starting his Classic McClain Morning Regimen to walk out with that perfectly cultivated handsome morning glow. But not this morning.

This morning was a hushed, slow, extended breath. This morning was a hesitant flutter of eyelids before any other muscle stirred; staring at the ceiling overhead and simply feeling the weight against him, the warmth on his skin, the soft breath spilling over his chest. Lance wanted to really carve into his being the feeling of waking up and having Keith beside him, comfortable, peaceful, dare he even consider 'content'. Finally, Lance moved. He reached a hand over his chest and brushed the dark strands of hair that curtained over Keith's face back. He wanted to see how calm he was as he slept. He wanted to see what it was like to have Keith next to him without the lines of worry or confusion over his features, or the creases of anger and irritation distorting them. As he did, Keith shifted at the touch. The arm he had draped over McClain's stomach slid up to Lance's chest and Keith nuzzled into his shoulder with a breathy sigh. Lance felt his heart race for a moment and a smile pulled at his lips. He could get used to this.

After a few cherished moments more, Lance slithered out from underneath Keith and mentally patted himself on the back for doing so without more of a stir than the first. A quick shower and change and he was well on his way to find some breakfast. Lance noticed how light he felt inside. There was more of a McClain pep in his step than usual and the kitchen suddenly seemed only half the distance it normally was from his room.

"Mornin' Hunk!" Lance chirped as he slipped behind the island counter and beelined it to the refrigerating unit. There was definitely enough to peruse through after the grand feast Hunk had for them. The question was, what did he want?

"Good morning, Lance." Hunk answered as he got up and wandered to the sink to stash an emptied bowl.

Actually, cereal does sound good. Lance smirked as he grabbed a jug of relatively fresh Kaltenecker milk. "Where is everyone?" He ask as he made for a bowl of his own and a box of grains.

"Come and gone." Hunk answered as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. "It's practically half passed 11, bro. It's nearly lunch by now."

"Ah." Lance said before shoving a spoonful of 'brunch' in his mouth. He mimicked Hunk and leaned back against the counter next to him, shoveling food in his mouth. "So what's up, man?"

Hunk kept quiet a moment, watching Lance eat with suspiciously lidded eyes. He took in a thoughtful breath as he reached for his chin. "Sooo..." Lance chomped another spoonful. "You and Keith, huh?"

Choke. Sputter. Cough. Hack. He nearly dropped the bowl entirely.

"W-what?" Lance froze a moment. He attempted a few sidelong glances at Hunk, but he saw nothing that gave him any read to the situation enough to know how to handle it. He opted for innocent ignorance, "What the heck are you talking about? Who the hell started that rumor?" He would try playing it off casually. He cleared his throat and shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

Hunk wasn't buying it. His answer was flat and deadpan. "I saw you in the hall the other day."

Lance spit milk and cereal out over the spoon in his mouth in a glorious spray of half chewed cornmeal bits. Busted. He looked over at Hunk and there was a raised brow that solidified the 'I dare you to talk yourself out of this one' look on his best friend's face. Hunk knew it for a fact. Lance was defeated before he could even try. He set the bowl down on the counter behind him and crossed his own arms as he leaned back again with a soft smirk.