Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron Legendary Defender
Follow You
"Are you looking for something?"
The question itself isn't what sets him on edge. It's always the who, rather than the what, that's gotten under Lance's skin the most. The tone and the curved mouth of the speaker has a habit of drawing out Lance's most heinously jealous side, even if he would never admit it out loud. It is 'the who' that wrinkles his brow, flushes his face, burns his insides until he feels like fire itself. He's tempted to turn around, to retort, to burn up like a phoenix and scorch 'the who' until he never dares to forget Lance's name, to do something 17 year old Lance would do. A 17 year old Lance would grin happily at the prospect of picking fights, eager to be seen and forget to see what's in front of him.
But Lance is not 17. Not anymore. No, he's a 21 year old defender of the universe and he's lived a fierce and frustrating story. He's fought and fled and wept at the thought of losing the family he's found in space. This is a Lance that's soft and silly, that's changed his colours more times than he feels comfortable, that's smoothed out his heart and nerves until he figured out that what he wanted and what he needed was in front of him the whole time.
"Me? And what exactly would I be looking for?" he scoffs with mock bravado and turns to see 'the who' holding nothing in his hands at all. In fact, 'the who' reaches out so that he's holding Lance, sweeping him forward so that their chests bump, balancing on the ever blurring line of competition and kissing. They're always bumping into each other, over and over again, so much so that Lance can hardly think of life without Keith Kogane. It's like Keith is the sun that Lance rotates around: eager, bright, magnetic.
"You know exactly what."
"Maybe," Lance sings, tipping forward into kissing territory as he presses a kiss onto Keith's mouth. It stalls him, this rival turned friend turned loving amalgamation of the two. Keith's fingers loosen on Lance jacket to snag the belt loops of Lance's jeans. Lance, ever classy, slips a well practiced hand through Keith's dark hair and kisses with the intent to bruise. Keith responds to with youthful zeal for about 5 minutes before drawing back, a full grin stretched across his face. "Maybe I need reminding."
"You need reminding that you left your phone unlocked in the kitchen?"
Lance squawks wildly and disentangles himself from Keith to avidly search his pockets and when he realizes that there's nothing there, he turns his gaze on Keith, who is failing to keep the smile of affection off his face.
"What did you do to my baby?"
"Excuse you," says Keith, "I am just fine."
"Hella fine, as I can testify," says Lance with a flirty wink before reaching for Keith. "What did you do with my phone?"
"Nothing you wouldn't do if you saw Pidge's phone laying around."
"By god," says Lance, "you've changed the password to something stupid, haven't you?"
"You admit that changing the password to 'pidge-knows-lance-is-the-best-in-the-universe' was a stupid idea?" Keith's smile is nothing but a teasing smirk. "Interesting."
Lance whines his name but Keith is already slipping away, his job at garnering Lance's attention done from the moment he opened his mouth.
"Team debrief in 30 minutes," he says, "bit of a time limit, wouldn't you say?"
"But my phone..." mumbles Lance, turning his attention to his very empty hands.
"It's back in my room," admits Keith. "You could come grab it, if you really want it."
When Lance realizes what Keith is offering, Keith's out the door and into the hall, blushing up a storm and gesturing for Lance to come along like it's another wild adventure; like they're off to save Shiro from the Garrison again.
"30 minutes, huh?"
"You coming with me?"
"Me?" Lance laughs and strolls to Keith's side, their hands interlocking with promise. "Babe, I'd follow you any where."