day 1- music

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Keith had been laying awake for hours now. The motel room was dark and damp and silent and he felt alone. Lance was in the room next to his, but even through the thin walls, Keith felt miles apart from the Cuban. He glanced at the alarm clock on the rickety bedside table beside him and sighed. It was past midnight.

Slipping from his sheets, he pulled on a T-shirt and left his room, turning to his left to Lance's. He knew that the blue-eyed beauty was most likely asleep and would hate to be woken up, but Keith just wanted to see if Lance had a solution for Keith's restlessness.

He hesitated before the door, hand in a fist, knuckles poised inches from the door, the cold night air surrounding him. He knocked.

Through the poorly insulated door, he heard a loud groan, then the sound of someone bumping their way through the room to the door. "Who izzit?" Lance grunted from the other side of the door.

"It's me," Keith replies weekly.

There was a slight pause. The door opened.

Lance stood in his boxers, hair messy, a face mask on and an eye mask pulled up over his forehead. "Keith," he said groggily, "what's up?"

Keith bit his lip. He suddenly realized that this was probably not the best idea. At all.

"I can't..." he started, "I can't sleep."

Lance blinked slowly. He promptly turned away, but left the door open, inviting Keith in. Lance stumbled through a mess of clothes on the floor (he had overpacked) to a large guitar case propped up against the wall. He turned to look at Keith and pointed vaguely at the bed, which was a tangle of sheets and blankets.

Keith nervously slipped under the covers, wiggling as far as he could to the left as to leave space for Lance.

The young man was opening the case and pulling out a large, scratched guitar. Lance padded over to the bed, briefly rubbed his eyes with his free hand, and then sat down on the bed next to Keith, arranging the guitar in his lap. He fiddled with the strings for a few moments, hesitated, then set his hands on the frets and strings, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.

His fingers slowly began moving across the strings in a slow pattern.

"Recuerdame~" he sang quietly, his voice gravely and low. Keith's eyes widened slightly. Lance looked so pretty in the yellow lamplight, his hair disheveled, his eyelashes kissing his freckled cheeks. "Hoy me tengo que ir mi amor."

Keith smiled softly. He didn't know Spanish, but he recognized those last two words. Sometimes, Lance referred to him as that, but he'd never looked it up.

"Recuérdame, no llores por favor."

As if only called by the sound of Lance's voice, a sense of tired calmness floated over Keith's mind. He straightened out the sheets and blankets and pulled them over Lance's legs and himself.

"Te llevo en mi corazón y cerca me tendrás."

They'd been on the road for several days now, each night stopping at some small motel. They'd slept in the same bed before, but Keith felt bad sharing because he knew that he always stole all the blankets.

"A solas yo te cantaré soñando en regresar."

Or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe, even though Lance called him 'mi amor' and kissed his forehead and held his hand, he was scared of their feelings for each other. He'd never had someone like Lance- someone who loved him differently than a family member. Someone he wanted to spend his whole life with.

"Recuerdame, aunque tenga que emigrar."

Keith pressed his body closer to Lance's feeling his warm skin. He slid his arm around Lance's waist, the peach fuzz on the Cuban's stomach soft under his fingertips. He hummed softly as Lance sang the end of the lullaby.

"Recuérdame, si mi guitarra oyes llorar."

Keith closed his eyes and sighed, sleepiness washing over him peacefully.

"Ella con su triste canto te acompañará."

As he slowly slipped into sleep, he managed to listen to the last few words of Lance's song.

"Hasta que en mis brazos estés."

The guitar stopped and he heard Lance set it down softly beside the bed. He shifted around Keith, drawing him closer still and pressing his lips to Keith's hair.

The last thing Keith heard before drifting off completely was Lance soft voice whisper-singing, "Recuérdame..."

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