Keep Your Body Open, Swim [KLANCE NSFW] § Galra!Keith X Human!Lance

Keep Your Body Open, Swim

"Keep your body open, swim."
(Inter species romance/sexual contact. Vulnerable!Galra!Keith X Human!Lance)

"K-Keith, I'm - Ah!" Lance can feel his back slam into the wall behind him, the hard metal feeling cold and dry against his hot skin. Keith is beginning to get more aggressive when they spar in the training deck, and Lance honestly isn't sure what's inspired him into perusing such an aggressive position. Lance squeals (which was a very manly squeal, he'll have you know) when his broadsword is sent clattering to the ground, sparks flying from Keith's blade, which is dangerously close to his neck.

"What the hell was that? You're not John Wick, you mullet!" Keith stares at him as Lance yells in annoyance, squirming against the wall and being forced to feel Keith's body pressing against his.

A smirk splits its way across his fair complexion, lighting up his face. His expression is usually so aloof that when Lance had first met him, he had assumed he was depressed or something of the sort.

Keith steps away. Thank god, because Lance didn't think he would've been able to breathe anymore if he had to feel the pulsing of Keith's heartbeat for any longer. If they hadn't been sparring, then Lance is sure that he would have an obnoxiously obvious blush spreading across his face. Having a crush on his obnoxiously hot teammate isn't good for his current mindset.

Keith sighs, turning his back to Lance and walking over to the bench across the room. He sits next to his own respective things.

Lance follows suit, still waiting for an explanation from his friend.

Keith's expression turns to something more serious as he watches Lance sit down next to him. He isn't sure how Lance would react if he had showed him the actual reason for his recent frustration and aggression, but he's not sure if he can trust anyone else with his secret. He decides that he wants to go somewhere more private. Anyone can walk up any moment and Keith doesn't want to take any chances.

"You want to know what's been wrong with me, right." Keith starts, taking a sip of his water as he watches Lance's expression change to something akin to anticipation. "Yeah, of course." He replies, nodding his head.

"Well, follow me. We're going to the locker room."

Without letting him reply, Keith stands up and tugs Lance along with him. Lance bites his lip, watching the back of Keith's head as he walks him over to the very back of the gym. He pushes them through the locker room door and walks over to the dressing section. There's no one there, and the room is dimly lit. The atmosphere of the musky space is giving Lance too many ideas at the moment, so he distracts himself by watching as Keith stops at the back of the room.

"I uh, I have something to show you. But you need to promise me something," Keith looks at Lance shyly, and Lance slowly nods his head in confirmation for him to keep going.

Keith takes a small breath, pulling his fingers into a tight fist. "D-Don't run." He breathes, and Lance has to strain his ears to hear it. "Okay... I won't." Lance says, sitting down on the bench placed in the middle of the narrow aisle. Something is twisting in his stomach and he's not sure if he should be intimidated or not.

Keith had only been wearing his gray t-shirt and compression pants, so when he starts to take his shirt off, Lance's stomach plummets. His face is probably saying 'Panic! Panic! This is getting super gay!' Because Keith shoots him a comforting look. Lance breathes as he watches Keith slip off his gloves.

He can see the outlines of the scars on his body in the dim lighting. They're littering his chest, his sides, his shoulders, and Lance realizes that Keith might get hurt in battle a little bit more than he thought. Since when did Keith have this many scars? And oh god was that one recent?