Sparkle Eyes For You (Klance)

Part 8

"...ance. Lance!"

"Huh?" He jumped, his vision suddenly filled with a wet plate and Keith's glaring face.

"Do I need to get a new dish dryer? One who's not on another planet right now?"

"No!" he yelped, grabbing the plate and almost dropping it in his panic. "I'm here. I'll do better. I swear."

Keith's glare turned into a confused and slightly worried frown, and Lance realized he'd spoken a little too true to his thoughts there.

"Alright...Good, then."

As Lance vigorously scrubbed the plate dry with the soft dishtowel, Keith went back to washing after a couple more anxious glances in his direction. They worked in silence again, but this time, it felt more comfortable. Lance's heartbeat went back to its normal rate, and he leaned against the white counter as Keith passed him another plate. This kinda reminded him of his days back in the garrison, when his group would mess up and be sentenced to dish duty in the hot, stuffy kitchen. Pidge always had a technique for drying as quickly and efficiently as possible, so Lance and Hunk would switch off washing the seemingly endless flood of dishes from the cadets. He'd hated those days, but now, he didn't really mind it.

"Hey." He was so lost in thought it took him a second to recognize his own voice, but when Keith glanced up, he had no choice but to follow through. "How do you feel?" Keith raised an eyebrow, and he quickly amended: "I mean, after last night. You were totally waisted."

"Oh, yeah." Keith paused his washing to stare up at the ceiling in thought. "I'm doing a lot better. Someone brought me to my room, so I didn't have to sleep on the bridge. The headache is mostly gone too."

"G-Great." He felt his heart sink. So he didn't even remember all the care Lance went through getting him back to his room? But he wasn't giving up here. No way. "Any dreams?"

"I dunno." Keith shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't really matter."

"Oh, c'mon~" Lance pushed, setting down the dry plate and placing a hand on the counter in what he hoped was a cool way. "If you can't tell your good buddy pal about a couple little dreams, what can you tell them?"

"Why are you so interested in my dreams?" Keith snapped, and Lance noticed his cheeks flush a light pink. So he does remember. At least, partially.

"Just curious," he tried to play it off, but the red Paladin didn't look convinced.

"You're acting weird today."

"Hmm?" He leaned lower, resting his chin on his thumb and index finger, and raised an eyebrow with a grin. "Wanna know why?"

"Nope." Keith turned back to his dishes, and Lance felt a rush of annoyance run through him. No way was he letting this ass do all that to him and then act like nothing happened. Not a chance.

Throwing his arm around the boy's shoulders, he pulled him closer and whispered seductively into his ear: "You sure?"

Keith set down the plate, pushed him off, and stalked away without looking back.

"Hey!" He cried, rushing after him. "What about the dishes?"

"You can finish them yourself!"

"Like hell I will!"

"There's two left!"

"Yeah, one for each of us."

"Jesus, Lance, why are you like this?"

Lance finally reached Keith, grabbing his shoulder and roughly pulling the boy to face him, only to find his face flushed bright red. Every feeling of anger and annoyance disappeared from his mind, leaving his thoughts blank, and before he could regain his composure, he pulled Keith forward by the collar, pressing his lips against his. For some reason, this time, it felt exciting and new, instead of terrifying and wrong. His eyes were closed and his thoughts silent, so all he could focus on was the feeling of Keith's soft lips on his, and his warm breath brushing against his nose.