#mushroomgarden144p

[lxiewrites]

Fic trope mashup: 46 & 71, Klance

46. Blind date & 71. 24hrs to live

1) @mushroomgarden144p Damn I’m so sorry it took so long, I just got really busy with school and making a cosplay prop before I left for home 

2) I went overboard as usual so I hope you enjoy!! shit it’s over 5k i thought it was less

“You sure you can do this, Mullet?” Lance teased. He could see his partner in crime fiddle with the silverware on the table. If his Mamá were there she would’ve smacked those elbows off the table. He watched as those fingers freeze before dropping onto his napkin-covered lap.

Lance adjusted the monitors, making the slightly blurry picture clear to the point he could see that Keith didn’t get a manicure like he told him. Reaching over he played with the dials to adjust the audio so he could hear the low bustle of the restaurant in the background. Not as good as it would have been with Hunk or Pidge but this was a solo mission. Or a solo duo mission… Whatever mission it is with only two people. Though it has been drilled into their heads to use the emergency communicator in any emergencies but it was a simple information grab.

He highly doubted that they would need it.

Keith scoffed, adjusting his glasses making the picture on the monitor jostle. “Contrary to popular belief I have gone on dates, Lance.”

“Really? Where, McDonald’s?” Lance laughed.

“No. Burger King.”

A sharp burst of laughter escaped from deep in his belly, rocking back in his glee and nearly hitting the other side of the van. Laughter tapering off he wiped away a tear that formed in his eye. “Well, this place is a slightly higher pay grade than Burger King. If you’re stuck think what would Lance do~”

He could practically hear his eyes roll. “Just focus on watching my back, Lance.”

“It’s not my fault I’m too handsome for this case, Mullet.”

“Yes, but it is your fault for being seen with Allura and being in the tabloids for two weeks straight,” Keith nagged.

Like he forgot. For two weeks his pictures with Allura were everywhere, speculating whether he was some young tycoon or some model. Anyway, they could figure out why he held The Princess’s attention. Wild stories of him being her new boyfriend or just a fling. But they did die down after a week when he kept out of the limelight.

Lance frowned at the fancy glass of ice water that appeared on the table, the video moving up to the politely smiling face of the waiter. Keith’s hand entered the bottom corner, thankfully waving the waiter away.

He got a close up look at the ice cubes as they clinked against the glass when Keith took a sip. Keeping the drink to his mouth Keith muttered, “Just for the fact that you were on the news makes you a high profile. We needed discretion.”

Lance pouted and crossed his arms. “How was I to know that the paparazzi was there? Allura was giving me the profile on your date. Remember?”

“We’re spies, Lance!” Keith whispered shouted into his drink before setting it down. “You’re supposed to know when you’re followed.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up, Keith.”

Keith’s sigh made the mic crackle with static. “Lance—“

“Shh, shut up, shut up, she’s coming.”

A tall, gorgeous, and willowy redhead approached them with a wide smile, her light blue eyes bright with enthusiasm. “You’re Keith, right? Allura told me a lot about you, I’m Roze but you can call me Ezor or Ezzy!”

The video bobbed as Keith nodded. Maybe they should’ve put the camera in the tie. “Nice to meet you, Ezor.”

“Just had to go with the boring route didn’t you,” Lance critiqued.

Before Keith took out her chair he tapped on his ear where the earring bug was, causing a screech to blare right into Lance’s ear. Keith didn’t show any signs of his ears bleeding as he pushed in Ezor’s chair for her.

“Oh, such a gentleman!” she teased. She set her forearms on the table and propped her pointed chin in the palm of her hand. “So how do you know Allura?”

“I met her through work,” Keith said waving for the waiter to come by with menus. “You?”

“Oh, I guess I don’t know her that well. She’s like this associate with my boss’s son. Just came up today and asked if I wanted to go on a blind date. And I’m not one to pass up a free meal so I was like, ‘sure! Why not?’” She smiled at Keith, blue eyes slitting in amusement.

Lance could probably guess why Allura chose this one for them to go on a date with. Friendly with a bit of a motor mouth, but Lance still had an uneasy feeling about this girl. Her demeanor too friendly, smile too sharp and getting that small piece of information buried under the avalanche of words.

He cracked his neck on either side. Leaning forward to the mike as if Keith could hear him better he said, “Game face on, Mullet. It’s date time.”

-

Lance at this point was bored out of his mind and fighting the temptation of playing games on his phone. Obviously, he can’t because that’s “unprofessional” but whatever.

“How is it that you haven’t gotten any relevant information from her so far?”

He could see Keith’s hand tighten on his fork before placing it on the table. Keith pushed his empty plate away from him, getting up from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to go to the restroom.”

Ezor beamed at him, giving him a little wave. “Go ahead, I’ll order dessert.”

Keith hurried to the bathroom, the golden ornate decorations of the restroom blurring in his haste. Reaching the bathroom and locking it behind him he tore off his glasses and glared at the small camera embedded in the frame.

Keith’s furious purple eyes took up the entirety of the screen. Despite the high definition of the camera, his skin was still perfectly clear and soft looking. “Excuse me if the subject of experimental, hallucinatory, and extremely dangerous drugs haven’t casually come up in the conversation!” he hissed.

“Just… I don’t know… bring up recreational drugs!” Lance shouted into the van, waving his hands. “Like what does she do to relax? Then just say that you use weed and go from there!”

Keith pursed his lips. His eyes darted to the side in the way that he did when he was considering something. He looked back at the screen, resigned. “Fine. I’ll try it. But this better work.”

“Come on, Mullet, when haven’t my plans ever worked?”

“Do you want the list in chronological or alphabetical order?”

“Dick,” he said without heat.

Keith smirked before putting his glasses back on. Looking into the mirror he straightened his navy suit and tightened his ponytail. In the privacy of the van, Lance allowed himself to put a hand to his chest and scream silently into the mic before going back to watch Keith fiddle with his silverware.

She clapped when the waiter deposited something oozing with chocolate and only two spoons in between them. She looked up flirtatiously at Keith, batting her eyes. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“He gay, bitch,” Lance muttered on reflex.

Keith must’ve heard him because he choked out a small laugh before turning it into a coughing fit.

Ezor’s eyebrows rose. “Ookay, then. Or not.”

Keith coughed again before waving his hand. “I’m sorry. Sorry, I would love to.”

She grinned at him again. “Perfect,” she chirped, handing over a long silver spoon.

“So, what do you do to relax, Ezor?” Keith asked, scooping up some hot fudge.

“Mmm, little bit of this, little bit of that. I like shopping and yoga,” she said scooping up some liquid chocolate on her side. She looked up at him and slowly took a bite, taking her sweet ass time licking the spoon. “You?”

“Weed.”

Lance thunked his head on the table.

She laughed. “Wow. Straight to the point. I like that.”

“It’s something I specialize in,” Keith agreed, taking a bite.

She giggled again but Lance still thought she sounded too sharp on the edges. And there was definitely something wrong with her if she didn’t just up and leave after that.

Keith scooped up more chocolate along with a bite of cake, popping it in his mouth before continuing. “So, uh, have you tried weed before?”

Ezor set down her spoon to fold her arms on the table and smile at Keith. “Wouldn’t you like to know~”

The screen moved when Keith shook his head. His hand came up and the video moved up so Lance had a nice video feed of the crystal chandelier in the middle of the room. Lance heard the silverware on the table clatter off-screen.

Fear shot through him so fast it made his stomach hurt. “Keith? You okay buddy?”

The screen focused on the white tablecloth, two elbows on both sides of the shot. “Just…dizzy…” The screen blurred again when Keith shook his head.

Off-screen Ezor hummed. “Dizzy, huh, that tends to happen.” There was some rustling and the snap of a purse before a few hundred-dollar bills fluttered down in the corner of the screen.

The screech of the chair scraping linoleum was his only warning before the screen blurred once again and he got a close-up shot of a long, pink evening gown pressed up against Keith’s blue suit. Keith’s feet were heavy and lurching as he stumbled next to the dainty gold shoes.

Lance’s heart hammered in his chest as he sent out a secure signal of their location. “Keith, buddy, you’re going to have to get out of there.”

“’M dizzy,” he mumbled.

Lance’s leg was bouncing so fast it blurred. “I know you are buddy, just hold on for a bit.” He had to get him but he couldn’t just drop everything to just go in and grab him. Millions of lives are hinged on the information. But the mission was already pretty much screwed; he should just go in and grab him. Right?

“Pft, that’s just the beginning. You’re gonna be a lot more than just dizzy soon.” Ezor muttered. She expertly maneuvered them into a less populated area, reducing Keith’s behavior as a state of drunkenness.

Out of sight in the back alley she dumped him onto the wet ground, shining in the glow of the streetlight. Keith’s head tilted back to the point where Lance could see her casually flip back her hair in a high pony and slip a vial out of her purse.

Crouching down in front of them she held up the purple liquid. “Y’all have such a hard-on for this shit.” She tossed it in the air before catching it in her hand. “Since you got this far Haggar told me I could tell you that this is quintessence. Left alone it’s one hell of a hallucinogen, but processed,” she smirked at the camera. “I’d say you only have about twenty-four hours to live.” Ezor’s blue eyes looked right into the camera as if she was looking right at him. “I would hurry if I were you.”

Fuck it.

It might be a trap but he had to go get his partner. Grabbing the communicator, he stuffed it in his pocket before grabbing a gun and rushing out of the van doors.

The streets were dark, only a few people left milling around the restaurant. Sliding the gun in the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back he snuck around the front of the building to the small alley hidden between the buildings.

With slow steps, soft splashes were the only indicator of his location. He paused before the opening of the alley, the angle of the streetlight keeping him in the shadows. He took the gun from the small of his back, cocking it in hand before leaping from his hiding spot.

Only to drop it to his side.

No one was there, the date was gone without a trace and Keith was lying there groaning on the ground. Flipping the safety on he ran to his friend, heart beating away in his throat. Dropping the gun on the asphalt and grabbing Keith’s hands he took them between his own and rubbed them to bring some warmth back. The icy coldness of his hands seeping in and turning the flesh a faint purple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I fucked up.” He wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders, rubbing them to possibly keep more warmth in. He took the communicator from his pocket and set it on Keith’s lap. “I’m so fucking sorry, Keith. Jesus Christ this is all my fault.”

He activated the communicator in Keith’s lap, the crackly voice of a tired Pidge on the other end. “Pidge, Keith is down. We need an extraction. Get 911 and poison control.”

Pidge didn’t ask any questions, the telltale clicking the only clue that she was sending out a team. “Team’s on their way, as is 911 and poison control is in process. What happened, Lance?”

Lance was silent for a moment, internally berating himself for letting this happen. “We didn’t know but his date poisoned Keith with the processed quintessence.”

Something clattered on the other side of the line. “Jesus fuck.”

“Yeah,” Lance said morosely. It was like he was hearing himself over a recording. “We only have twenty-four hours, Pidge.”

“Lance…” She trailed off, her voice small. “We need a sample of the processed quintessence for the antidote, we only have the pure quintessence and we don’t know what they did to it. The best that can happen is to feed him neutralizers and hope it either stops the process or slows it down.”

Lance buried his face in Keith’s neck, squeezing the unconscious man. “I know. Just… be ready to start examining for proteins or chemicals and shit. I’ll make sure to grab the evidence and when they pump his stomach be ready to examine the contents.”

Red and blue lights flashed down the street, the faint sound of sirens getting louder by the second. “The police and ambulance are almost here. You’re gonna have to work fast, Pidge.”

Pidge growled in frustration. “Lance, we’re going to need—“

“And I’ll get it,” he cut off. He sighed and softened his tone. “I’ll get it. Just work with what you can. I have a plan, so you just leave it to good ol’ Lancey Lance.”

There was a distinct tapping against a keyboard as she listened to his bravado. “Fine,” she spat. “I’ll do what I can.”

He hoisted Keith onto his shoulder, arm raised, badge in hand, to wave the police to their location. The alternating lights giving Keith a sickly glow that emphasized how pale he was along with the full baggage claim under his eyes.

“That’s all I need, Pigerino.”

-

Lance paced as he waited for her to answer her phone. The hallway was empty aside from the few nurses running on little sleep and caffeine. All the rooms in the hall were closed and only a few with light creeping from under the doors. The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital hurt his eyes and he grimaced, remembering the last time he had to be there that involved Keith. Except it was his fault this time.

“Yes?” a voice answered, posh and perfect like always.

“Allura, I need a favor.”

“Hello to you too, Lance.” He could practically see the eye roll in her voice. “What is the issue?”

He swallowed around a dry throat. “It’s Keith. He was poisoned and while the team has the pure quintessence the Galra did something to it so we have to get a sample of the processed drug because if we did he’s going to die—“

“Lance, slow down,” she ordered before concern softened her tone. “How long does he have?”

Lance took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes so the bright lights didn’t make him dizzier than he already was. “Pidge said they were able to slow the process to a few days but it’s still going to kill him.”

“What do you need?” she asked, though it sounded more like a command.

Leaning against the pristine white wall he sighed. “I need to get a sample of pure quintessence.”

“And what? Steal it?” A sigh heaved on the other side of the line. “Lance, if they poisoned Keith knowing he was a part of Voltron then my position is more than likely compromised.”

“You still have the keys right? The ones you took off of the son?”

“Lance, think, this is not safe. You need to wait and discuss a plan with everyone and go in with a team.”

A loud slap of skin on drywall echoed down the empty hallway. “Keith doesn’t have the time Allura!”

“Lance…”

“Please, Allura. This is all my fault, if I wasn’t seen with you then Keith wouldn’t have had to go in.”

“And have this exact same situation but reversed?” she scolded.

“Allura I have a plan, I just need the key.”

The long, poignant silence felt like a death toll. “You have to at least talk to Shiro before you try to do whatever you’re trying to do.”

Lance’s entire body slumped with the relieved sigh he was holding. “Yes, yes, absolutely, no problem. You got it, princess.”

“Remember, you ha—“

“Yes, yes, Shiro’s approval, no worries, he’ll definitely say yes. I’ll come by for the key later. Thanksloveyoubye!” The words were jumbled into one horrifying Frankenstein of a word in his haste to close the conversation before she could change her mind. Ending the call he placed his hand over his racing heart.

Blowing out a breath he slipped into the room he was pacing in front of.

He walked over to the bed where Keith was laying pale but stable. His brows were furrowed, scowling even in, essentially, a coma. Lance brushed back his bangs, damp from sweat, smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead. Leaning down, he placed a small kiss to the middle of his forehead. “Hang in there, buddy,” he whispered. “I got your back.”

-

Lance strolled up to the front doors of the Galra Inc. building, waving the stolen key card in front of the sensor. It blinked green twice before the doors slid open with a quiet woosh of air.

Most of the building consisted of sleek metal and purple accents, new technology not released to the public scattered around the room, and that was just the lobby.

He adjusted his red tie, nodding to the receptionist who didn’t even bother looking up and walked to the elevator. He prayed that the key card was the extent of the security needed. He might need to subdue someone if they used any form of retinal or fingerprint scanning. Most of it was banking on the face the keycard belonged to the son of the company. How Allura was able to get it he had no idea but he wasn’t about to question it.

The scanner to the elevator thankfully blinks green twice. Stepping inside the empty elevator he looked the buttons up and down, debating. His eyebrows rose slightly when he noticed a thin opening nearly hidden by the seam where the panel was fused to the elevator.

Licking his lips he slid the keycard in and out of the slit. As soon as he did the elevator started moving, so smoothly he almost didn’t notice. “Okay,” he said, “that works.”

There was no indicator of any floor when the elevator stopped. No ping to alert the passenger. The doors were silent. Cautiously, Lance stepped out on the dark tile, shoes making soft clacking on the floor.

As if he belonged, he ambled through the dimly lit halls, shoes clicking as he went. Lance tried a few doors, either finding no one or a few people in respirators who didn’t look up from their tablets.

He frowned at the ground, annoyed. So far he was unable to find her. It’s not like he thought there would be a flipping directory but he should have gone by her office at some point.

He wandered around more. Hands in his pockets, eyes forward; the perfect picture of someone who knew he belonged there and knew where he was going. Despite the fact he was probably walking around in circles.

The few people in masks who walked the halls merely looked at him, moving on when he nodded at them, some nodded in response. They, too, were also silent. They looked at each other and made a few gestures but he couldn’t hear whatever discussion they were having.

When he turned the corner he paused. He waited five or ten seconds and turned right back around. Stepping lightly he followed the two as they turned a corner.

Following as silently as possible he followed them until they disappeared into a metal door marked with red lights and a WARNING sight bolted over the top.

Finally some progress.

He didn’t hesitate when he reached the door. Only taking a brief moment to get into character. The cool, suave persona that will go in and smoothly demand for a moment of the Haggar’s time.

He grasped the handle when he felt the cold press of a barrel of a gun no his neck.

“Hands up,” a voice as cold as the gun demanded.

Slowly, he raised his hands, shoulder height.

“So what gave me away?” he asked. The muzzle of the gun pressed into the back of his head, tipping it forward until he saw his dress shoes. A foot clad in what looked to be a thick sock kicked his feet apart.

“You’re shoes. You were echoing all around this floor.”

Lance winced, silently cursing himself. His heartbeat pounded in his chest and up to his face and wrists. He huffed out a breath and abruptly held it when the muzzle pressed harder.

“Listen, can, can I just talk?”

“You’re talking right now.”

“I’d rather do this face to face.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Fine, but don’t try anything or I will shoot.”

Strangely, it didn’t sound like a threat or a warning but a fact.

Cautiously, he turned, hands up and eyes down. Raising his head he could see the person behind the voice. She appeared to be female clad in an armor designed to be both flexible and to withstand attacks. Her dark hair was purple in the lighting and her eyes piercing. Neither happy nor even aggressive but intense.

Her expression didn’t change as she nodded at him, a cue to continue.

“I just came here to make a deal with Haggar. My pa—friend was poisoned with quintessence and I came here to offer some sort of exchange to get the antidote or even just a sample for him.”

“Why should I care? It sounds like he was just a casualty.”

He glared. “He’s important.”

Somehow, even without changing her expression he had the distinct feeling she looked at him like he was an idiot. “That just sounds like that’s a benefit to Galra.”

“To me, he’s important to me!” he hissed out. Sighing, he closed his eyes to rein himself in. Opening them again he glared at her. “Listen, I’m pretty high up in Voltron. A favor for a favor. I just need a sample and was going to ask for a trade with Haggar.”

Her eyes flicked to the side and back. “You’re alone.”

Lance could feel his eyebrows twitch down. “Ho—“

“You don’t have a communicator. And you must be pretty stupid to think you can have a fair trade of ‘a favor for a favor’ with Haggar.” She blinked once, twice. The gun moved.

His breath stalled in his chest as he prepared for the impact of the bullet.

He waited. But nothing came.

He watched as she swiftly flipped her gun into her holster at her hip. “Haggar would never let you off so easily.” Digging in another pouch she took out a small vial of purple liquid. She locked eyes with him as she held it up, the liquid swirling in its small container. “A favor for a favor, correct?”

At first, the past thirty seconds didn’t even register. Like his brain lagged, buffered. Lance.exe not found. Then all at once, it was like he was more aware of everything. The dark colors of the corridor were more vivid. He could hear the faint buzzing of the lights at his back. The faded scent of bleach that was used to clean the floor.

He shook his head, blinking until everything came back into focus. ”What?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. Jiggling the vial a bit so the liquid sloshed against the sides she said, “You’d have a better chance of making a deal with me than with Haggar.”

“And what do you exactly have to gain from this?” Lance asked, eyeing her warily.

“A favor,” she held out the sample, “correct?”

Lance hesitated, hand reaching for it but curling in on itself before touching. There had to be some sort of catch. Why would she essentially let him off scot-free? She didn’t know if he would uphold whatever favor she had.

He looked at her where she was staring at him steadily, maybe a tad bit impatient, raising her brows at him as if asking, ‘what are you waiting for?’

He took the vial.

-

As soon as he was in his car speeding away from Galra Inc. he phoned Pidge.

“Pidge!” he shouted when she finally picked up, transferring the call to the car’s Bluetooth.

“Lance,” said operative grimaced at the sound of the stern rumble of his boss instead of Pidge’s sleep-deprived mumbles, “you better have a good explanation for going on a mission without prior authorization.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat before chuckling awkwardly. “So you see, Shiro, it was a bit of a time crunch—“

“You went without a handler or backup. No one knew you were going except for Pidge and Allura, who might I add, is not an operative.”

“Shiro…”

“You didn’t even talk to me about this. Do you have any idea how risky and dangerous this was?”

“I do, but Shiro this was important and I couldn’t wait for the department to get back to me days later when I knew I could do it now.”

“Going in alone on a mission is bad enough but there were absolutely no safety precautions, Lance—“

“It was for Keith,” Lance blurted out. “Shiro, he only has a few days. And I got it. Completely unscathed. I’m right as rain.”

There was a deep sigh on the other side of the line. “We’re not done with this conversation.”

The dial tone buzzed in the car before Lanced sighed and redialed to Pidge. “Hey, Pidge? I got it.”

-

It’s been about a week since Lance took the deal with that girl. Pidge and Hunk did their science stuff and made an antidote for Keith in as little as twelve hours. He has since then recovered quickly and they’re keeping him in the hospital to monitor his vitals to make sure he was stable. And if he knew Keith as well as he thought he did then he must have been having a ball.

Lance stood in front of the door, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. He fidgeted, shuffling from one foot to the other, going in to knock before changing his mind.

The flowers were too much. They were definitely too much. Maybe he should’ve gotten him something else? What did he like? Knives? Chocolate? He should just go home and—

“Just come in already!” a disgruntled voice shouted.

Lance sucked in a breath, exhaling before plastering a smile onto his face. “Hey, buddy!” he chirped, opening the door. He squawked when a pillow hit the wall next to him, retreating slightly before peeking in again.

Keith sat pouting, hair mussed, and arms crossed in the bed. He glared at where Lance stood in the doorway, daring him to come in and give him well wishes.

Lance glared back stepping into the room and firmly—but not too loudly, his mama raised a respectable boy—closed the door behind him.

“That’s some greeting,” he sniped.

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.” Keith nodded to the flowers in his hands. “Who’re those for?”

Sitting down at the chair next to the bed he plopped the flowers onto Keith’s lap. “Mrs. Sanchez in 4B her grandkids made little league.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, dropping the daisy petal he was playing with. “Really?”

Lance huffed. “Of course not, they’re for you dummy.”

The line between Keith’s brows softened and he resumed stroking the bouquet. “Oh,” he said, voice soft. After a few minutes in silence he set the flowers to the side and looked Lance in the eye, his gaze intense.

“Shiro told me what you did.”

“And you wanted to thank me, of course, not a problem, buddy.”

“Lance,” Keith growled, wiping the cheeky smile off his face. “What you did was stupid and risky. I would’ve been fine for a few days. Why?”

Lance focused on the different wildflowers in the bouquet, counting the different types. “Why what?”

“Why did you do that? It was incredibly dangerous, and you’re suspended.”

Lance could feel his heart pound against his ribcage. Wasn’t the answer obvious? He felt like the answer was written all over his face. Which felt really hot, was he sweating?

He felt his heart crawl up into his throat as he turned to look at Keith, smile back on. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

He held his breath as he searched Keith’s eyes for…something… anything. Some sign that despite the bickering and teasing that he felt the same as he did. That there was some kind of hope for something more.

Keith replied without hesitation. “Of course I would. But Lance, you didn’t even have a handler and you went into potentially hostile territory.”

Lance bit his lip. Unsure whether he found what he was looking for. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bed, forearms touching the length of Keith’s leg.

He tried to hide his shallow breaths as best as he could. Heart beating away in his throat and stomach nauseous he took a leap. “Well, when the other alternative was you dying it was worth the risk.”

Slowly, as if he moved too quickly he would spook him, he gently pried Keith’s hand from where it was tightly crossed across his torso.

Keith looked at him confusedly while he threaded their fingers together, squeezing.  He avoided those bottomless eyes by focusing on how his hand felt so warm and perfect in his. “I would risk anything as long as you were okay.”

“Oh,” Keith said, voice barely above a whisper.

Lance didn’t dare look at him in case of spontaneous combustion; his cheeks were already on fire. When Keith didn’t say anything his heart dropped to his stomach and he slowly started to unwind his fingers. He couldn’t say he was surprised.

So when Keith tightened his fingers and tugged their joined hands to his lips…Lance was…shocked.

When Keith looked up at him and tentatively gave him a sweet smile Lance felt his heart stutter. Heart humming, he dropped his forehead against Keith’s and smiled.