Inspired by the headcanon above.

Keith sighed and huffed and rolled his eyes, folding his arms and sitting at the edge of Lanced bed. Lance, who was reading a book (a comic book, actually), looked up as Keith fell onto his back, his head inches away from Lance's lap.

"Uh, you okay there, Keithy?"

Keith closed his eyes, "It's so quiet and its aggravating."

Lance tilted his head, but before he could say anything, Keith began elaborating a bit more, "My anxiety is messing with me today."

Lance folded his comic and leaned over Keith's face, "What can I do to support you, mullet?"

Lance grinned yet Keith looked away with a scowl. Lance frowned, finding his joke didn't help, and decided to lean down, "Can I kiss you?"

Keith didn't make eye contact but his scowl slightly diminished, and he nodded. Lance kissed Keith's nose first, which made Keith cringe, but then he kissed his cheek, and his other cheek, his forehead, and as Keith relaxed and closed his eyes, Lance gently pressed pecks to his eyelids, and anywhere else he may have missed.

Keith sighed. He was partly happy, because he loved when Lance kissed him, and Lance always made him feel better. But he was also frustrated, because Lance couldn't fix Keith's anxiety and Keith knew he couldn't ask him to, so his anxiety was still shot through the roof, bothering him all while Lance kissed him. If it's one thing he hated, Keith hated having mixed feelings, about anything, in any moment. But he could handle it. With Lance by his side.

"Lance?" Keith mumbled.

"Yeah, Keith?" Lance pulled back a little.

"Can you just... Talk?" he asked.

Lance nodded, "Yeah, baby. So... I was reading my comic..."