For Klance Week 2018: Prompt 3 (Blushing/Hot) and Prompt 5 (Moral Support/Injury)

Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender


Too Hot


Hunk was a great friend, an impeccable companion, and a brilliant mind. The fact that he and Hunk had managed to maintain their friendship despite all the crazy things they'd experienced was impressive enough as it was. Indeed, it was no question that Hunk Garrett was one of the kindest, most wholesome beings on the castle ship. He was a great guy with great intentions; at least, he had great intentions most of the time.

"Stop squirming," Hunk said as Lance twisted himself on the kitchen counter.

"Is it bad?" he said, "because it feels bad. Do I need a pod?" asked Lance urgently.

Hunk laughed. "You and I both know you don't need a pod. Just some of that weird, alien Polysporin Coran keeps in the med bay."

"Okay, okay, let's go."

"Lance, I can't leave the cookies unattended, you know that."

"But I thought they were done! That's why I took them out."

"First of all, I want to make it clear to you that just because you took them out at the timer, which was set to remind me of the half-way mark, doesn't mean the cookies are done."

"Why would we have at timer to check on them halfway? Why not just a timer for when they're completed?"

"Lance, come on, man. I know you didn't bake too much at home, but touching half-baked cookies should have been an easy no-no."

"Yeah. Maybe I was just really pumped to have some of your delicious cookies."

Hunk gave his friend a smile. He finished wrapping Lance's hand in the wet cloth and beamed proudly. "Done."

"But it still hurts," said Lance before sticking his clothed hand in Hunk's face. "Kiss it better?"

Hunk chuckled. "Lance, you know that you need the weird stuff from Coran. You've got to go get it."

"But-"

"It'll scar," said Hunk warningly and Lance gulped

"Not more scars," he groaned, and hopped off the counter. "Where is it again?"

"Oh, well," Hunk began, before his expression shifted. "Actually, I can't take you, but Keith could."

Lance swivelled to see Keith at the door, half surprised at being addressed and half confused at the sight before him. "What?" he said while Lance spluttered to life.

"You want Keith to take me?" Lance waved the hand that was wrapped up. "I doubt he knows where this stuff is."

"Well, neither do you," said Keith, "but it shouldn't be that difficult, right?"

Lance looked between Keith and Hunk a couple of times before slumping off to join Keith. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Hunk wiped his hands on his makeshift apron and smiled warmly at them. "You'll be looking for the weird, purple alien Polysporin. It's in the weird side compartment of the control panel in the middle of the room. I think that Pidge labelled it with a weird cross thing. Like those hospital signs back on Earth."

"Thanks, Hunk." Keith turned on his heel and headed back out into the hallway. Lance followed him out, expression still something that faintly resembled a scowl.

"So," drawled Lance, cradling his injured hand to his chest, "what were you up to?"

"Just came back from visiting Red. She's been aching to fly again even though we recently got back from a mission."

"I guess you and Red really are two peas in a pod," said Lance. He was smiling to himself, knowing that there was probably never a truer statement said. "All you guys ever want to do is fly."

Keith looked away and hid his expression. "Is Blue not like that?"

"Nah," he said. "She's always trying to play. It's great because me and Blue are all about having a good time, but she's always wanting to do flips. It really makes me dizzy."

"You're telling me that all of those crazy barrel rolls you do are Blue's idea and not yours?" asked Keith when he finally turned back to face Lance with an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Yeah, of course." Keith raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe it's more like 75% to 25%."

"And Blue is the 75%?" Lance nodded rapidly and Keith snorted. "Sure."

"Don't you trust us?"

"I trust Blue," said Keith lightly, "but you are a whole other story."

The pair of them continued down the hallway and exchanged light quips until they got to the infirmary. It was thankfully empty, and Lance was spared from having more people know about his foolishness. Having Keith know that he'd injured himself was bad enough.

"Hey Keith?"

"Yeah?" Keith's head popped up by the central control panel.

"How long were you standing by the kitchen?"

"Not long," he said, ducking down again to continue rooting through the drawer of the control panel. "What did you do to burn your hand?"

"To be honest, it was not my fault at all."

"I highly doubt that."

Lance ran his good hand through his hair and took a seat on the steps leading to the panel. He watched Keith continue to go through the contents of the drawer before he heard Keith's quiet noise of success. "Alright, here it is." Keith walked back to Lance's side and kneeled next to him. The bottle in his hand was full of a deep purple substance that Lance had never used before. "I'm assuming we just take it out and put it on the burn."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Lance stuck his hand out for Keith to attend to. "Fix me up, medic."

"Fix you up," grumbled Keith, unwrapping Lance's hand. He held the injury carefully and poked at the edges of the burn. Lance's right hand was red, with the tips of his fingers bright and blistering. Keith tilted Lance's hand and they could see that the red of the burn spread angrily across Lance's knuckles as well. "I can't imagine how you managed to do this kind of damage."

Lance flushed hard, swallowing his pride and deciding to repay Keith's gentleness with the truth. "I burned myself on the cookies."

"Sure." Keith dropped Lance's hand and reached for the bottle Hunk had indicated as the medicine. The bottle had Pidge's marker on it, and Keith squeezed a small amount into his hand. Lance's heart thundered in the silence and when Keith looked at Lance's face again, all Lance could see was shock. "You're serious?"

"It was a serious matter!" he said quickly. "I reached for them and they were too hot. It burned my fingers so I pulled my hand away but then it hit the top of the oven 'cause I pulled away too quickly."

"Oh god."

"Keith," groaned Lance. Keith picked Lance's hand again but his hands were shaking. Keith's laughter was not contagious, as least not for Lance. "No…don't laugh." Lance covered his face with his good hand. "Ugh."

"Lance, that's the most benign thing-" Keith got out between loud laughter. Lance felt the cool gel on his burns, his face still hot, and peeked between his fingers to watch Keith's application. He slathered most of the gel onto Lance's knuckles. It only took a few seconds, but the gel glowed a bright purple before fading into Lance's skin. It was as if the gel had never existed. "You're ridiculous, you know that? So dumb."

"It was an accident! Accidents happen, Keith!"

"But of course it happens to you!" Keith shook his head, his laughter slowly dying as he flipped Lance's hands. He sounded nothing but fond, which was uncommon for Lance; it was uncommon but not unwelcome. "You're not supposed to touch anything too hot; that's common sense."

"Well, maybe I was excited. Sure me."

"There are worse things," Keith allowed. He grabbed at the bottle of gel again and put a dollop into Lance's hand. Keith took his index finger, dipped it in the gel, and began running it over the burns on Lance's fingertips. Keith might have been rougher when he fought, but he could be gentle when he wanted to be. Lance's cheeks grew hot again, this time for reasons he wouldn't dare voice. His heart beat had picked up again and his throat felt tight. "You've got to be more careful," Keith was saying as he added the last bit of gel on Lance's fingers. He'd coated Lance's fingertips in the gel slowly, with precision. The gel on Lance's first finger had dissipated and the skin glowed as it healed.

"Sounds rich coming from you," said Lance finally. He forced his gaze away from his hands and tried to focus on anything else. This proved to be difficult when Lance realized that the infirmary was empty and the only interesting subject to look at was Keith, who happened to be bowed over Lance's hand and meticulously soothing the burns with gel.

"I feel like you should have bandages, but I don't think we have any."

"Same," mused Lance, grateful to think of anything except how pretty Keith's hair looked up close or how uncharacteristically tender Keith was turning out to be. There was the chance that Keith had always been this gentle with people or things that he knew were injured, but Lance was determined not to think of that change quite yet. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Treat burns?" His mouth turned down thoughtfully. "I guess? Believe it or not, it's not something that happens too often when you're out in the desert."

"Why?" Keith paused to flex his hand and highlighted his fingerless gloves. "Oh."

"Yeah. Rope burns aren't really a thing for me, and I try not to stay in sunlight for too long, so I don't burn that way either."

"Well, you're a lucky duck," mused Lane.

Keith gave him a funny look but didn't say anything. He wiped his hands off on the towel Lance had initially been using on his injured hand and took a breath. "How's your hand?"

"Honestly, my pride hurts a lot more than these burns, but the gel definitely helped. The glow is kind of cool too." Lance bumped his knee against Keith's. "Thanks, buddy."

"No problem."

"Too bad there's nothing else I could do to help," said Keith before perking up. "Actually, maybe I do."

"Really? And what could-" Lance was cut off, his brain short circuiting at the touch of Keith's lips to the back of his hand. It went as soon as it came, and Keith rose his head with the same charmed expression as before.

"Better right?"

"Um, why did you do that?" Lance's face felt flushed again, his embarrassment and excitement mingling.

"Earlier, with Hunk, you mentioned that he could kiss it better, right?" Keith shifted from quietly proud to defensive. "Was that not something friends do?"

"No, no, no, no, it's fine. It's all fine. Yeah." Lance clenched his hand and held it to his chest tightly, as if that could stop the pulsing glow of his hand or the rapid beating of his heart. He felt a plethora of emotions: confused, relieved, disappointed, happy. "Friends can do that. Yeah, of course. It's fine."

"Oh, okay good." Keith stood. "I'm sure the cookies will be done now." He moved back to the control panel and slipped the bottle into the drawer. "Do you want to come check it out?"

"Yeah, of course. Sure." Lance stood abruptly.

"You seem kind of stiff," said Keith, "in an awkward kind of way. Are you sure everything is okay? Nothing hurts?"

"Nope, it's fine." Lance gave Keith a smile and ushered him forward. "I've never been better. Just a little too hot."

"Better keep your hands to yourself this time then."

Lance grinned wider and threw an arm around Keith's shoulders as they headed back to the kitchen. "Whatever you say, buddy."