[ lance dreams that night. it's a complete contrast to their first evening there, where things had been so tense (despite the... physical pay-off he partook in, by himself) that his sleep had been restless. but this time around he'd slept so soundly that his mind actually found the time to wander. he dreams about nothing of import, and nothing in particular, just flashing images of their time on the castleship, some planets they've previously visited and, funnily enough, the cardboard voltron he and the others had performed in for the coalition. but flashing images were all they were, flipping through his mind's eye like pages of a book. by the time morning comes, he's feel so well rested that he's hesitate to drag himself out of that sleep, instead trying to burrow further and further into it as soon as he begins to notice the claws of consciousness try to hook themselves in.
his body is warm, and wonderfully rested to the point his limbs feel heavy. that "spring" poking keith in the ass is, unfortunately, a result of his body's full night of rest, blood rushing where it is sometimes wont to in the morning. a healthy reaction for a healthy body and mind.
sadly, he is not conscious enough to make much sense of it, and instead chases the little bit of friction he's offered. a low, muffled groan escapes him, buried where his face is pressed firmly into the back of keith's neck, and he rocks his hips forward in a purely instinctive motion, seeking to press himself further into that pressure. ]
( maybe it might be easier if that was a spring poking him, but it isn't and it won't be easy once they're both fully awake. at the very least, keith understands about bodies and their reactions so he won't think much of it.
or, rather, that would've been how he would've reacted before all this.
but, as soon as that groan filters through his brain, his eyes snap open and reality comes rushing in without hesitation or care. suddenly he knows what's poking him and heat floods through his body from head to toe. he's stricken immobile for a few moments, unsure what he should do, when lance rocks against him like that. he bites his bottom lip trying to decide if he should try and slip out of this hold quietly or wake lance up.
waking him up is probably the right choice.
he keeps hold of lance's hand (he won't think of the implications of what that means that they held on to each other all night) and brushes his thumb over his skin and quietly, sleepily speaks up, )
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his body is warm, and wonderfully rested to the point his limbs feel heavy. that "spring" poking keith in the ass is, unfortunately, a result of his body's full night of rest, blood rushing where it is sometimes wont to in the morning. a healthy reaction for a healthy body and mind.
sadly, he is not conscious enough to make much sense of it, and instead chases the little bit of friction he's offered. a low, muffled groan escapes him, buried where his face is pressed firmly into the back of keith's neck, and he rocks his hips forward in a purely instinctive motion, seeking to press himself further into that pressure. ]
no subject
or, rather, that would've been how he would've reacted before all this.
but, as soon as that groan filters through his brain, his eyes snap open and reality comes rushing in without hesitation or care. suddenly he knows what's poking him and heat floods through his body from head to toe. he's stricken immobile for a few moments, unsure what he should do, when lance rocks against him like that. he bites his bottom lip trying to decide if he should try and slip out of this hold quietly or wake lance up.
waking him up is probably the right choice.
he keeps hold of lance's hand (he won't think of the implications of what that means that they held on to each other all night) and brushes his thumb over his skin and quietly, sleepily speaks up, )
Lance... Lance wake up.