It’s the final day of shance month and I am feeling a little emotional. It’s been so muhc fun writing something every day for shance this month and it’s helped keep my writing going. I decided to do a little reverse shance type au for this one with a younger Shiro looking up to and admiring an older Lance. Hope you enjoy this final installment and thank you so much to everyone who’s read these drabbles so far, and thank you to everyone who said nice things and just enjoyed these stories. You are all wonderful 💙 🖤
-
“Mom, how did you get dad to like you?”
Takashi sat at the kitchen table daydreaming about his crush. It was a question he'd been pondering for a while, how could he get someone to like him back? His mother was a safe person to ask for advice; she wouldn't tease him or accidentally let slip his feelings to the wrong person.
“Well, I suppose it started with lunch. When we got to high school, his mother made him cook his own lunches, and they were dreadful. I felt sorry for him, so I started to make him a bento every day.”
“Food?” the boy asked disappointedly. He'd inherited his father's lack of skills with cooking which was why he wasn't helping his mother with the baking. He'd been banished to the table and forbidden from even getting too close. His mother took her baking seriously, but she appreciated his company.
“Isn't there anything else,” he asked hopefully.
“Oh, there's plenty. But the best way to saman's heart is through his stomach.” she turned to her son and winked. Takashi blushed and stared down at the table hard. His crush was no secret to her, but it was still embarrassing to talk about.
“Tell you what, after I'm done with these cakes I'll help you with some simple bento dishes. You can even take all the credit I promise I won't tell.”
“Really? Thanks, mom!”
“But in return I want you to tell me more about this Lance boy. I have to make sure he's good enough for you.”
“Moooom” Takashi groaned and hit his head against the table. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.
In the end, telling his mother more about lance wasn't as embarrassing as he'd feared although she did make him promise to invite Lance over for dinner one day, which Takashi felt he would never be ready for.
But he had a bento he could be proud of, the food only a little burnt.
“Now don't forget to take it with you tomorrow,” his mother said kissing him on the forehead, “and good luck.”
****
“Ok, you are Takashi Shirogane, you can do this,” Takashi took a deep breath and smoothed his fingers through his messy black hair. In his other hand, he held the lovingly prepared bento box, his hand trembled slightly.
He could hear Lance's laugh, musical and hypnotic. It was a laugh that drew people to him, making everyone a friend.
“I can't do this,” he groaned taking a step back. How could he just go up to Lance, who was always surrounded by a gang of friends, and ask if they could eat lunch together?
“The very first bento I made your father I left on his desk with a note saying ‘You better eat this or else’. He got so scared he ran to tell a teacher someone was trying to poison him,” his mother laughed when she told Takashi the story of her disastrous first attempt at handing over the bento.
Maybe he could do that. Leave the bento on Lance desk with a note that wasn't quite so ominous.
“But the best thing was when we ate lunch together, and I could see him enjoy the food. My cooking want amazing, but he always looked so happy when he ate it and said it was tasty,” she sighed dreamily.
Takashi wanted to see that. At the very least he wanted to see that Lance liked the food he'd made.
He had to try! Taking a deep breath, Takashi squared his shoulders and marched over to Lance's group.
“Hey Lance do you have a minute,” Takashi voice rose a few octaves higher and cracked a little at the end of his sentence. He hoped Lance didn't notice, though judging by the way some of the people with him were snickering he probably had.
“Takashi! Sure, what is it, my man?” Lance's greeting was as kind and open as ever. It made Takashi feel warm.
“Ah, um, I was wondering if you'd like to eat lunch together.”
Silence followed.
“It's just you helped me a lot with club stuff, and I wanted to thank you that's all, so I made you this, but you don't have to eat it if you don't want,” he babbled thrusting the bento box forward towards Lance.
One of the guys near Lance laughed which set off a ripple of laughter around the table.
“Oh my god, is he serious?"
“That's so old school.”
“And gay."
Lance still hadn't said anything. He turned slowly to the group and glared at them.
“Do you ever get tired of being such huge assholes?” he asked them flatly cutting off their boisterous laughter.
He turned to Takashi with a kinder expression. “Sure, I'd love to eat with you. Eating near these guys will make my food taste bad. Let's go, he jumped to his feet and led Takashi away from the group, who watched them leave with open-mouthed expressions of disbelief.
“Are you sure? Your friends don't look too happy,” Takashi said, casting furtive looks over his shoulder at the group as he hurried after Lance.
“Friends? I'm not friends with people who throw around gay as an insult,” Lance scoffed.
“I only ever sit with them if Hunk's not here, but I won't be doing that again.” He added. He was walking so far Takashi had to jog to keep up with his long strides.
They found a free bench outside in a quiet corner that allowed them some privacy, by the time they got there Lance's frustration appeared to have evaporated, and he was all smiles again.
“So what's in the box?” He asked eagerly.
Takashi suddenly wanted to run. It wasn't a very extravagant lunch. It might not even be enough to be a meal for Lance. It was too simple and boring.
“Ah...” He clutched the box tighter and held it close to his chest.
“What, don't want to share now?” Lance asked teasingly.
“No. I really did make it for you!” Takashi said quickly. Now he wished he could run, or maybe just hit himself over the head with the bento box hard enough to end it all. He flushed and stared down at his feet.
“It's just, it's not that exciting and pretty simple, so it's probably really boring. And I'm not the best cook, my mom helped a lot, but I still might have burnt things a little too much….” he trailed off.
“I appreciate the honesty, Takashi,” Lance laughed, he reached out and placed his hand against Takashi on the box, “but if I can eat my sisters cooking and convincingly act like it tastes good, then I can eat whatever in here.”
Takashi was sure his heart had stopped, and if it hadn't, well he was pretty sure he was not going to get through this alive.
Nodding mutely, he set the bento box down on the table and opened it. Lance shuffled closer and peered at the contents curiously.
“So what's all this?”
“Mostly rice, chicken and vegetables,” Takashi said, he pointed to each section of the bento giving a quick description of it. There was rice with some furikake seasoning, karaage chicken, some pickled vegetables as well as fresh, tamagoyaki, and little hot dog sausages cut to look like an octopus.
“These are so cute,” Lance laughed pointing to the sausages, “is it really ok for me to eat it?”
Takashi nodded and handed him the chopsticks. Lance too them with a slight frown. It wasn't his first time using them, but he'd never quite got the hang of them and usually ended up swapping them for a fork pretty quickly. Now he didn't have that option.
Takashi couldn't help but laugh. Lance's confused, focused scowl was cute.
“Hey it's not nice to laugh, some people have never used chopsticks before you know,” he admonished playfully. Lance wasn't angry, and his smile felt like sunshine, warming and soothing Takashi.
“Do you want me to show you how to hold them?” He offered.
“Please!”
Takashi fist showed Lance how to hold the chopsticks by demonstrating holding them himself, he then passed the chopsticks back and got Lance to hold them. He adjusted Lance's hold on them, touching and moving Lance's fingers. He tried not to overthink about how much he was touching the other boy, and he resisted the temptation to allow his touch linger for longer than need be.
“There, keep a hold of them exactly like that!” he said proudly when Lance had the correct grip.
“Now you just move the upper chopstick with these fingers to grab the food,” Takashi instructed, tapping the fingers Lance should be moving.
“Right, doesn't seem too hard.”
It took him a few attempts, but Lance quickly managed to work the chopsticks and grab one of the hot dog sausages he'd been so taken by.
“Hmmm, this is great!” He said with a grin.
“It's just a hot dog,” Takashi said modestly. His mother was right. Watching Lance enjoy the food was the best feeling in the world.
Shaking his head with a little laugh Lance tried the chicken next, and then the rice.
“Still tastes good, this all tastes good. You're a much better cook than my sister,” Lance said joyfully before taking a bite of the tamagoyaki.
“From what you've told me that isn't really hard,” Takashi laughed. It felt good to have Lance praise his food and to see him enjoy it with such gusto. He was falling harder for the older boy.
“Hey, where's your lunch?” Lance asked after taking another bite of tamagoyaki. He seemed to like those. Takashi made a quick mental note.
“Oh...I uh. I already ate,” he lied. His lunch was in his locker. He hadn't brought it with him.
“You gotta eat too, Takashi. Here try some of your cooking,” Lance said holding the chopsticks out to Takashi. Takashi stared at them.
“Oh, sorry. Is it weird if we use the same chopsticks? It's weird, right? You can just use your finger if you want.”
“No it's fine,” Takashi said quickly, taking the chopsticks from Lance.
He could use chopsticks that Lance had used. Chopsticks that had touched his lips, been in his mouth. Takashi's hand trembled slightly as he held them. He grabbed a piece of chicken with them and ate slowly, the chopsticks brushing lightly against his lips.
“Hey, this actually does taste ok.” He muttered as he ate. The karaage was a little too crispy from being overcooked, but it still tasted good. He sampled the rice and the tamagoyaki and found they all tasted ok.
“See I told you, you're a pretty good cook. Maybe you can cook for me again sometime?” Lance chuckled.
“Sure, I wouldn't mind,” Takashi agreed readily, “I mean if you want.”
“Yeah...” For the first time ever Takashi saw something almost shy pass over Lance's features, but it was gone before he could analyse it further.
“You know what if you like cooking Hunk is an amazing cook. I'm sure he could teach you a few things, and he'd love to learn how to make some of this stuff, and I'm always happy to be a taste tester.” Lance offered.
It was like a dream come true, even if it was just friendly conversation that might never lead to anything, it felt like he was being invited into the inner circle, into Lance's true friendship group. Hunk was Lance's best friend, and there were only a few other Takashi had ever seen hang out with both Lance and Hunk together.
“That would be cool. I can get my mom to show me how to cook some more complicated things too.”
“Awesome. Hunk's away this week, but we can probably arrange something next week if you're free?”
Takashi almost choked on a mouthful of rice. Lance had been serious.
They split the rest of the bento between them, conversation soon turned to club activities.
“How are you getting on with your tumbling skills?” Lance asked.
“Much better, my back handspring is looking much snappier now.”
“Excellent. You've worked so hard, you know I think you work harder than some of the girls,” Lance said proudly.
Cheer was not a sport Takashi had planned to join when he started high school, but after watching the squads welcoming performance on his first day of school he hadn't been able to take his eyes off Lance, the only male member of the team at the time. He'd stood out amongst all the girls because of that, but he'd blended in with them too, keeping up with them. He wasn't just the token guy who only performance as the base, he could flip, jump, and tumble with the others and at the end of the routine he'd been thrown up in the air and performed a complex spin that had Takashi heart jumping into his throat. It was spectacular.
At first, Lance had been on the receiving end of some teasing for being on the team, but his winning personality soon won over even the most sceptical and more boys joined the team, including Takashi.
Lance, being the only guy on the team had taken responsibility for teaching the new boys and had probably had to help Takashi the most out of all of them due to his inexperience. At first, he'd only joined to be close to Lance, but Takashi found he enjoyed the sport too.
“If there's anything you want to go over during practice just let me know ok. I'll sport for you.”
“Sure, thanks, Lance.”
Lunchtime passed all too quickly, and soon it was time for them to go back to class.
“Thanks for lunch, it was so good. Do you want me to like, take the stuff home to wash it up or something?” Lance offered awkwardly, feeling he should do something to show his gratitude. Takashi shook his head.
“No, it's fine, just promise me you'll teach me your finishing stunt,” Takashi said boldly, feeling brave.
“That stunt? You want to steal my signature move?” Lance gasped.
“It's pretty complicated you know. Are you sure you're ready.”
Takashi thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
“I'm ready.”
“It's going to take a lot more lunches for me to teach it to you too, at least one lunch per session,” Lance said seriously.
Takashi nodded again.
“Ok deal! I'd hate to leave this school and not pass on my legacy to someone,” Lance grinned. Takashi had to resist the urge to jump for joy.
“Lance!” Shiro cried his name desperately as he leapt forward.
The next thing Lance knew there was gunfire. Shiro groaned from the impact of the shot and fell forward, landing heavily against Lance. He'd been hit.
“Shiro! No!” Lance caught him as best he could and quickly dragged him to cover while avoiding further fire. Shiro dragged his feet putting most of his weight on Lance as he stumbled after him.
“Hey, you ok? Talk to me,” Lance hissed urgently. He sat Shiro down as carefully as he could, but Lance didn't know how to help him.
Shiro hissed as he sat down and bent forward into Lance's waiting arms.
“It's my back,” he groaned, clinging to the other man, “he hit my back.”
Lance cursed. “That bullet was meant for me. Why did you do that?” He cupped Shiro’s cheek lifting the man's head to face him. Shiro smiled weakly and lifted his own hand pressing it lightly against the side of Lance's face.
“I couldn't let him get you. You’re our best hope,” he gasped struggling for breath. Lance sucked in a breath and tried not to cry.
“I will avenge you,” he promised tears shining in his eyes. He bowed his head and pressed his forehead against Shiro’s.
“Will you call me by my name? One last time, I love the way my name sounds on your lips,” Shiro whispered his thumb pressing against the corner of Lance's mouth. He was fading.
“Takashi, I love you,” Lance said in a shuddering breath.
“I love you too.”
They kissed soft and bittersweet. Then Shiro’s hand fell away from Lance’s cheek, and he was still.
Lance gasped, but he did not cry. Now was not the time. He gripped his gun tighter and took a deep breath to steady himself. First, he would get revenge; he would make Keith pay for shooting Shiro.
- - - - - - - - -
“You two are so overdramatic. You didn't need to shoot me ten times,” Keith grumbled bitterly. He was sore and covered in bruises.
“You shot my boyfriend!” Lance retorted. Shiro has his arm wrapped around his shoulder and Lance curled into him, snuggling closer.
“It's paintball, Lance. That's the whole point!” Keith exclaimed exasperatedly.
“Well I was just getting my revenge, that's a part of the game too,” Lance huffed. Shiro laughed, hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“You were amazing babe,” he said before kissing Lance on the lips.
“I did it all for you Takashi,” Lance cooed when Shiro pulled away. He smiled then grabbed the back of his boyfriends head and pulled him in for another, deeper kiss.
Keith pulled a face and decided arguing with them really wasn't worth it.
“Hey guys wait up,” he yelled after Hunk, Pidge and Matt who had wisely decided to walk ahead.
“Are they kissing again?” Pidge asked once Keith caught up with them.
“Yes."
“Do you want to leave them behind?” she asked.
“Yes!" Keith said emphatically. He walked faster.
“Guys come on we can't just leave them,” Hunk turned around to call Lance and Shiro but abruptly turned back a moment later, his face flushed.
Lance is adamant that Shiro needs to relax. Shiro is too tried to refuse.
-
“You need to relax,” Lance said sharply.
“What I need is to defeat Zarkon and free the universe from Galra control, then I can relax,” Shiro sighed. It was an old argument, but ever since Lance had become the right hand of Voltron, it was one he was having more frequently.
Lance had never been afraid to challenge Shiro's leadership or question decisions he saw as poor, but now he seemed just as concerned for Shiro's physical well-being as well as his integrity.
It was nice, to know someone cared enough to nag him about such things but it was also exhausting.
“And how do you plan to do that if you collapse from exhaustion?” Lance said smartly.
“Come on Shiro, even Keith tried to take time off to go for a swim,” Lance huffed remembering their disastrous attempt at visiting the A pool.
“I still don't get why it was on the ceiling what gives?” Lance muttered to himself. The pool was still a sore point for him.
Squaring his shoulders, Lance met Shiro with a sharp, stubborn glare.
“Now,” he commanded. He grabbed Shiro by the shoulders and marched him away from the empty bridge. Shiro could have fought back, all he had to do was dig his feet in, and Lance wouldn't be able to force him to go anywhere. But Shiro was tired, and if he went along with things just this once and proved to Lance that he didn't need to ‘relax’ then maybe Lance would finally give up.
“First put this on,” Lance ordered when they got to his room. He shoved a pair of black pyjamas into Shiro’s hands and moved over to his bed to grab his own.
“Where did you get these?” Shiro asked looking down at the black and silver paladin pyjamas that matched Lance's blue ones.
“Same place I got mine. These pyjamas are so comfortable you'd have a better nights sleep if you wore them.”
Shiro didn't bother to mention that on the occasions he did sleep he preferred to sleep in his underwear, as he found any clothing too restrictive in bed. It was not something Lance needed to know.
He made no move to change and instead he watched Lance as the other stripped out of his clothes and tossed them on the floor revealing an endless expanse of glowing bronzed skin and long elegant limbs. Shiro winched as he caught sight of the gnarled skin on Lance back, a reminder of how close Shiro had come to losing one of his team, only moments after they'd arrived. The scar was soon covered by Lance's pyjamas, but Shiro could still see it. He could never forget the sight of it.
“Why aren't you dressed yet?” Lance demanded, turning around to face Shiro.
“Uh,” Shiro floundered, clutching the pyjamas tighter he worried he'd been caught staring.
“I can leave the room if you want some privacy," Lance added more gently and full of understanding.
“No. It's fine,” Shiro turned around to face the wall and got changed. He could hear Lance moving around behind him, keeping busy so Shiro wouldn't feel like he was being watched.
When Shiro turned around again, Lance had set a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, and a collection of pots and bottles set to one side nearby.
“Take a seat,” Lance said with a grin. He sat down near the pots and patted the pillow next to him Shiro did as he was told very gingerly, he felt more than a little foolish sitting on the floor on top of a pile of pillows.
“First we apply the face mask,” Lance said picking up one of the pots beside him.
“Close your eyes" he instructed, and Shiro listened. Well, he'd come this far he may as well see it through to the end.
Lance slathered the goo over Shiro's face, and Shiro tried not to recoil at the wet slimy sensation.
“It tingles, is it meant to tingle?” Shiro asked.
“Yes, that means its working. It's when it starts burning you need to worry.”
Shiro's eyes snapped open. “What?!”
Lance was grinning at him eyes shining with laughter. “Shiro relax this stiff has been tried and tested on my beautiful skin. I would use something that might damage it."
Shiro scowled. “You know it's hard to relax when you make jokes like that.”
“Sorry, sorry," Lance chuckled and scooped up some more goo on his fingers, “now close your eyes again please, I'm almost done.”
When Lance finished, Shiro was given strict instructions not to touch the mask while Lance applied the goo to his own face. That done Lance fixed the lid back on the pot and swapped it for one of the small bottles.
“Give me your hand,” he held out his own hand expectantly. Shiro hesitated looking at his Galra hand and then his flesh one.
“I'm not the engineering genius Pidge and Hunk are, I only know how to deal with skin,” Lance said softly, apologetically. Shiro gave a small smile of understanding and placed his human hand in Lance's hand.
Lance tipped a few drops from the bottle on the back of Shiro's hand, set the bottle down and then used the fingers of both hands to massage the oil into Shiro's skin. His fingers worked quickly and with force, pressing along each of Shiro's fingers working the oil into the skin at each join before moving on to the next finger. After massaging each of Shiro's fingers, he moved to his palm.
Even with the pressure from Lance's fingers, Shiro could feel how soft and callous free his hands were.
“Your hands are so soft.” Shiro only realised he'd spoke out loud when Lance froze.
“Just because my hands are soft doesn't mean I don't work hard. You could have soft hands like there's if you took care of them,” Lance said defensively.
“I didn't mean it like that,” Shiro said quickly.
Lance flinched. “I know. I'm sorry.” He muttered, his head hung low. He was ashamed of himself. This was supposed to be about Shiro and helping him relax. Shiro's hands were so rough from hard work and worn from all the fighting he'd done. Lance held his palm against Shiro's for a moment and just held it there, comparing them. Shiro's fingers twitched, curling around his hand lightly in a gentle act of forgiveness and an apology of his own.
Lance quickly pulled his hand away when he realised just how long he'd been holding his hand against Shiro's.
“Right, that's that. Now let's look at those shoulders.” Lance said briskly. He shuffled over the pillows and sat behind Shiro.
Lance’s hands settled on his shoulders and got to work. They may be soft, but they were strong, his fingers moving firmly and dexterously to kneed the tights knots out of Shiro's muscles.
Shiro melted. He hadn't realised how tense he was until Lance's hands were forcing the tension from his shoulders. He groaned and sank into the touch.
“See I told you,” Lance said smugly.
When Lance was finished Shiro felt lighter, and completely at ease.
“Now what?” He asked with a contented sigh.
“Now we just lie down and let the face mask work its magic.”
“But what about you?” Shiro asked. Something wasn't quite right.
“What about me?”
“Your shoulders. Don't you need a massage too?”
“Shiro, are you offering to give me a massage?” Lance asked with a suggestive smirk that quite frankly looked ridiculous with his face covered in green goo.
“Sure why not?” Shiro shrugged.
“Oh, ok then" Lance shuffled awkwardly having not expected Shiro to agree so readily.
Shiro moved to sit behind Lance and tried to replicate what Lance had done though he was cautious about applying too much pressure and mindful of the twisted scarred skin that reached up between Lance's shoulder blades. He didn't want to hurt him.
But as usual, Lance wasn't afraid to call him out. “Come on Shiro you need to press harder than that or you won't do anything.”
“A little to the left….left...up...yes there!” Lance moaned when Shiro hit a particularly tough spot.
“You're pretty good at this, we should do this more often,” Lance mumbled happily. He flopped down on his back, and Shiro lay down next to him.
“That would be nice,” Shiro agreed with a sigh. Lance turned to face him.
“Seriously?”
Shiro grinned and nodded.
“Yes! Finally, someone understands my love of spa dates!” Lance crowed triumphantly punching his hands in the air. Shiro laughed, Lance was so excited, so cute. He wanted to do this again.
“What are you two doing?” A voice interrupted them.
“Pidge?” Shiro turned to the door, blinking owlishly at her.
“Don't you know how to knock?” Lance demanded snappily.
Pidge smirked and held up the orange device that allowed them to take photos. She snapped a photo.
“I have got to show this to the other," she said gleefully before running away.
“Pidge you get back here right this instant!” Lance yelled, scrambling to his feet he ran after her.
Shiro sighed and settled back down. He was in no hurry to leave nor did he care if Pidge had an embarrassing photo of him. He was happy to wait for Lance to come back. They still had to wash off the face masks and who knows, maybe there would be more for Shiro to discover after that.
I could have gone for some angsty life or death scenario, I didn’t, I went for something silly
-
“Shiro? Are you awake?” Lance asked in a low, sleepy voice. According to glowing blue numbers of Shiro's digital clock, it was 3 am, so Lance had been trying to sleep for about two hours now, and he was failing miserably.
“I'm awake.” Shiro's reply was smooth and clear. He was wide awake and was also having trouble sleeping, which did not surprise Lance, the floor was not the best place to sleep.
“Sorry,” Lance whispered. He rolled over onto his side to look down at Shiro.
“What for? I was already awake,” Shiro smiled. Even in the gloom of the room, Lance could see the twinkle of Shiro's kind eyes and the glint of his perfect white teeth.
“It's my fault you're sleeping on the floor,” Lance mumbled. They'd been studying together in Shiro's dorm for an upcoming test, and neither had noticed how late it was or the fact Lance had missed the last bus until it was more than an hour too late. Unless he wanted to try walking or spend money he didn't have on a taxi there was only one option left.
“I would be fine on the floor.”
“But you're a guest,” Shiro said graciously. Shiro had insisted Lance take the bed, claiming he was equally as guilty for letting Lance stay so late. He gave Lance one of his shirts to sleep in, a shirt that would be tight on Shiro but hung loosely on Lance's lanky frame. The shirt drooped off one shoulder and the hem reached just passed his ass. (Shiro had done an admirable job of hiding just how thrilled he was to see Lance dressed like that.)
Now, dressed in one of Shiro's shirt, a shirt that Shiro had worn, that had touched Shiro's skin and was now caressing his and wrapped up in Shiro's bed sheets, swathed in the other man's smell Lance could not fall asleep.
“Shiro?” Lance said again. The room was too quiet.
“Yes?”
“Would you rather be able to turn invisible or be able to fly?” Lance burst out.
Shiro blinked at him.
“Sorry. I just….can't sleep. Forget it,” Lance groaned. He rolled over on his stomach and buried his face into the pillow. Shiro's smell flooded his senses. Ok, so that was not helping. Lance took a deep breath of it anyway.
“Fly,” Shiro answered. Lance slowly lifted his head. Shiro was smiling, eyes shining with mirth.
“Really?” Lance settled down on his side again, “but if you were invisible, you could like sneak around and go anywhere you wanted.”
“Hmm, but flying seems a lot more fun and free,” Shiro said throwing his arms up in the air and spreading them out as if he were flying, “plus if I could fly, I can travel all over the world and see all sorts of things.”
Lance considered what Shiro was saying for a moment and then nodded in agreement.
“Ok, you have a point.”
“Would you rather see into the future, or change the past?” Shiro asked.
Lance shuffled in bed pulling the blankets tighter around him. He hadn't expected Shiro to continue the game.
“Can I change anything in the past? Even if it's not related to me?” Lance asked thoughtfully.
“Sure,” Shiro agreed.
“Hmm. And I can see into any point in the future?”
“Of course.”
Lance was quiet for a bit longer considering his answer.
“Look into the future, that way if I see something I don't like I can at least try to change it,” Lance decided. He dangled his arm off the bed, his fingers scraping lightly across the carpet. He wanted to reach out to Shiro but didn't dare.
If he could see a future where he was with Shiro, then that would be a dream come true, and if he saw a future where Shiro was with someone else...well at least he would know.
“I'm not sure if that's cheating,” Shiro pondered, and then he shrugged, “but I'll allow it.”
Lance grinned. “Would you rather live one life for 1000 years or ten lives for 100 years each?”
“The 1000 year life, do I get to live it with the people I care about?”
“Hmmm….no.”
“What about the 100-year lives, can I still have the same friends?”
“Yes, you can meet the same people, but they won't remember you, so you have to form all your relationships all over again each time.”
“Then I choose the ten 100 year lives. There are people I can't live without,” Shiro looked right at Lance when he spoke, his eye boring into him with such sincerity Lance could almost believe Shiro was counting him as one of the people he couldn't live without.
“Even if our relationships aren't always the same, I'd rather take the risk and always have them in my life rather than live hundreds of years without them.”
Lance pulled the blankets up past his chin.
“I can understand that.” He said softly. Even if he lived a hundred lives, and Shiro never picked him once in any of them, as long as he got to be with Shiro, as long as he got to be friends with Shiro, he would be satisfied with that.
“My turn again, would you rather meet an alien on earth or travel to outer space but never meet anyone?”
“Can this alien and I understand each other?”
“Yes.”
“Then I choose to meet an alien on Earth, then I will woo my new alien friend, and we'll run away together and travel all through space.”
“Ok, that's definitely cheating.” Shiro laughed.
“Tsk fine, I'd still pick meet an alien, I can ask them all sorts of questions about space and learn so much. It'll be fun.”
They passed a few more rounds of questions, the options getting sillier and sillier. Lance was starting to doze off, but he couldn't fall asleep, not yet. Not while Shiro was still stuck on the floor.
“Would you rather sleep on a bed of nails, or sleep in a single bed with a friend?” Lance asked softly.
“Well if it meant my friend could sleep comfortably on a bed then I wouldn't mind sleeping on a bed of nails,” Shiro answered. Lance rolled his eyes, of course.
“But what if that friend was ok with sharing a bed and didn't mind getting a little squashed?”
The room was silent and still. Had he said too much?
“Well, I suppose if the friend didn't mind, it would be better to sleep on a bed.”
Lance let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding.
“Good. Then get up here, my guilt is keeping me awake,” Lance huffed with an air of indifference as if the only reason he wanted to share a bed with Shiro was that he felt bad. Nothing more, no ulterior motive.
Shiro sat up and watched Lance as he shuffled back on the bed and pressed his back right up against the wall leaving a small sliver of space on the single mattress.
“It'll be really cramped. I don't mind sleeping on the floor honestly,” Shiro said, but he was already leaning towards the bed, leaning towards temptation.
“It's fine, just let me spoon you and we'll both fit,” Lance said it as a joke, but after a moment of hesitation, Shiro accepted.
“Ok.”
Lance forgot how to breathe again.
Shiro moved across the dark room and sat on the edge of the bed. Lance felt the mattress dip under Shiro's weight and almost slid towards him. Lance pressed himself harder against the wall.
Gingerly Shiro lay down, making sure he wasn't in any danger of crushing Lance.
“Do you have enough room?” He asked, his back to Lance. Even lying on the very edge of the mattress he could feel the heat of Lance's body against his back.
“Yeah, I'm fine. You can move back a little bit.” Lance said. Shiro tried not to shudder as the words tickled the back of his neck.
“Ok, but just give me a shove if you need more space.” Shiro offered. He moved back just a fraction and felt Lance press up against his back. He hadn't moved that close, had Lance slide closer to him too? Shiro froze.
“Right. Good night,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah. Good night,” Lance whispered. Shiro did shiver then.
Both men were exhausted, and the warmth and comfort of each other's bodies so close lulled them to sleep despite the awkwardness of their positions and their racing heartbeats.
When Shiro woke the next morning, he found Lance's arm draped across his waist, and Lance's face pressed between his shoulder blades. Shiro couldn't move for fear of waking him, and although the bed was dreadfully cramped, it was the most comfortable night's sleep Shiro had ever had.
He rested his hand over Lance's and held on tight. He was going to enjoy this moment for as long as he could.
I’d like to thank @skylocked for giving me some suggestions for what to write for this prompt (and you can thank my own lack of self control for using all of them)
Domestic fluff and a love story told in socks
-
It was late, and the train was quiet; peaceful compared to the usual hectic commuter trains. Shiro had to stay late at the office, which was not unusual, but this was the first time he's a caught the last train home.
He sat in the four-seater space, he needed the extra leg room, and a young man sat a seat up opposite, headphones on, his foot bouncing to the music. He’d been sitting there before Shiro and didn't seem to mind sharing the space on the mostly empty train, he smiled and given a small nod when Shiro asked if he could sit. Thankfully he hadn't taken his headphones off and tried to start a conversation after that.
Shiro settled his briefcase on his lap and took out some papers, his job for the day wasn't quite over. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted at the words, his tired eyes making everything fuzzy.
From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the man's foot bouncing to the beat of his music. It was distracting.
Shiro lowered his papers and considered if he could reasonably get away with asking the man to stop. He wasn't noisy or disruptive, and he had been sitting there first… but his bouncing foot was so annoying.
Shiro watched it, growing steadily more hypnotised by the repetitive movement. The man's pant leg rode up, and Shiro could see his sock. It was a shark, its mouth opened around the leg of the sock, so it looked like it was eating the man's foot. As the man continued to bounce his leg, it looked like the shark was swimming through the air.
Shiro laughed. The man stopped bouncing his foot and looked at him. Shiro quickly returned to his papers, but it was too late. He’d been caught staring.
“You're not some weird foot fetish guy are you?” the man spoke cautiously, his foot resting on the floor with the other one ready to get up and leave if he had to.
“No! Your bouncing foot was distracting, and your sock looked funny!” Shiro said briskly.
“Oh good. I was worried you were going to try and cut my feet off next time we went through a tunnel or something,” the man laughed all signs of suspicion gone. He stood up and flopped down on the seat next to Shiro.
“I'm Lance. What's your name?” Lance asked. He smiled, and Shiro's heart fluttered. Lance was gorgeous, tall with long elegant limbs and golden bronze skin. His eyes were bright and mischievous. Shiro smiled and introduced himself.
“So you like cats?” Lance asked teasingly. Shiro blushed and shuffled his feet his feet to the side.
“Hey you were looking at my feet, it's only fair I saw yours. I like cats," Lance reassured him.
Shiro felt a little better about his decision to wear the cute white cat socks today. There was a cat face stitched into the leg of the sock and little triangles of white on the cuff for the cat's ears.
After only a few minutes of conversation, they'd exchanged numbers, and the journey was coming to an end.
They reached Lance's stop, and he got up to leave. “Call me,” he winked.
- - -
The first time they slept together in the same bed together, without the wild passion of sex, just the comforting presence of another person to fall asleep with, Shiro wore socks.
“Shiro, you forgot to take your socks off,” Lance complained. Tiredly he tried to shove his boyfriend away.
“No, I didn't, my feet get cold,” Shiro grumbled back. His arms coiled around Lance and pulled him close. He tried to loop his legs with the other man, but Lance moved his legs away.
“You wear socks to bed?” he asked incredulously.
“How else would I keep my feet warm?”
Lance looked pained. “But… it's weird" he whined wriggling in Shiro's arms.
“Why is it weird?” Shiro chuckled. He found Lance's disgust far too entertaining. His socked feet chased Lance's legs under the covers.
“You haven't worn socks any of the times I stayed over before, " Lance accused glaring at Shiro.
“Well all those other times I was exhausted after fucking you into the mat-” the rest of Shiro's words were muffled by Lance's hand.
“Pervert," he grumbled. Shiro wiggled his eyebrows at him.
Lance lowered his hand from Shiro's mouth and snuggled up to him.
“You know you're lucky I love you or else I would seriously have to reconsider this relationship.”
Shiro froze. So did Lance.
“Oh shit. No, I didn't mean to say that yet. Forget I said anything!” Lance rolled out of Shiro's arms and turned his back to the other man.
It took a few moments for Shiro to recover and for the words to sink in. He wrapped his arms around Lance's waist and spooned him.
Lance was tense. Afraid his impromptu confession had ruined everything. Shiro kissed the back of his neck and held him tight.
“I love you too.”
The next time Lance stayed over, he gave Shiro a soft, comfortable pair of slipper socks to wear to bed. Lance stayed over more after that.
- - - -
“Lance can you please explain why I found these odd socks behind the sofa?” Shiro asked with a tired sigh. Work was hectic, and Shiro was constantly exhausted, he didn't need his boyfriend/almost fiancé (if he ever caught five minutes to himself to actually ask Lance to marry him) leaving odd socks all around the house. It was frustrating never being able to find a matching pair.
“I don't know I didn't leave them there."
“You're the only other one who lives here.” Shiro dropped the handful of socks on the coffee table like a damning piece of evidence.
Lance stared at them unimpressed.
“Those aren't all mine.”
“But some of them are, and you're always stealing my socks,” Shiro retorted testily. He didn't mind Lance wearing his socks, but his exhaustion and the fact they hadn't had any quality time together for weeks was getting the better of him.
“You wear my socks too! How do I know you aren't the one just dumping your socks where ever you feel like it? You spend so long at work lately and always come back so late you probably don't even remember where you left all your socks!” Lance challenged his hands clenched into fists. He wasn't the only one feeling the strain of Shiro's job.
“I'm not that out of it,” Shiro defended though he no longer sounded so confident. It was a possibility, but after coming so far in the fight, he was too proud to back down.
“Shiro, last week you came back so late you took a shower in your clothes and then fell asleep in the bath. If I weren't such a light sleeper, you would have flooded the place.” Lance said flatly.
“I know that but-” Any argument Shiro had died on his lips as he caught sight of their cat, Blue, jumping off the coffee table with one of the socks in her mouth. His eyes followed her as she ran behind the sofa. When she reappeared again a moment later, there was no sign of the sock.
“Blue! It was you?!” Lance admonished. He scooped the cat up in his arms, nuzzled the top of her head and kissed her.
“You know kissing and cuddling her isn't really telling her off,” Shiro sighed, but he was no longer angry.
“I can't believe we almost had our first major fight over socks,” Shiro muttered stoking the cats head.
“Blue, you almost made your fathers have a big fight. You should be ashamed of yourself!” Lance coddled her and kissed her again. Blue meowed and nuzzled his cheek.
“I'm going to quit my job,” Shiro announced smiling as he saw Lance fuss over the cat. He didn't want to lose this; the job was not worth it. Lance stopped fussing Blue and looked up at Shiro wide eyes.
“You're going to quit?” Lance breathed.
“Yes. I need a job that doesn't require I work twenty-seven hours a day. Besides I've saved up enough, and I'll find a new job pretty quickly.” Shiro said confidently.
“Saved up for what?”
“You'll see,” Shiro kissed Lance's forehead.
- - -
“And so the Cat kept looking at the Shark, and the Shark noticed!” Lance said emphatically waving the shark sock puppet on his right hand around. He turned his hand to the left and right making the shark look around.
The cat sock, on his left hand, looked away, pretending it hadn't been staring.
Mirana giggled and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“Now the Shark was a little creeped out that the Cat kept looking at its tail fin but the Shark was brave, and he thought the Cat was kinda cute.” He waved the shark through the air closer to the cat.
“'Are you planning to gobble up my tail?' The Shark asked boldly,“ he waved the shark again his fingers moving as he gave the shark words.
“The cat was startled ‘No I am not!’ he said smartly. ‘I just think your fin is very pretty’,” Lance waved the cat around now making it nod it's head as it spoke.
Mirana giggled again. “But Papi cats eat fish and sharks are fish,” she said sagely.
Lance gasped. “Not this cat!” he said bopping her nose with the cat. The girl laughed and rolled over in bed hiding her face in her pillow.
“Now where was I? Oh yes so the Shark sat by the Cat," he moved the shark again and held it next to the cat, “and the two talked all through the journey home," he moved their mouths animately imitating lively conversation.
“Papi?”
“Yes, dear?”
“How did the shark ride the train?”
“Well this shark is a special shark, he can swim through the air as well as water," Lance explained waving the shark through the air imitating swimming.
“Sharks can't swim through air.”
“Oh really? Then what is this one doing?” He moved the shark puppet through the air towards her and tickled her with it. Mirana shrieked in delight and tried to swat her father's hands away.
“Ok ok I'm sorry Mr shark,” she screamed.
From the doorway, they both heard a deep laugh.
“Papa!” Mirana stood on her bed and jumped up and down. Blue, their old cat who had been curled up on the end of the child's bed until then meowed indignantly, hoped off the bed and ambled slowly out the room. Shiro moved over to the bed and caught Mirana mid-jump, he swept her up into his arms and smothered her with kisses. She laughed loudly and tried to wriggled away.
“Now why aren't you in bed young lady?” He asked after he felt he'd given his daughter enough kisses.
“Papi was telling me a bedtime story,” Mirana said brightly.
“Oh really? Was it a good story?” he looked down at lance and smiled. Lance waved the sock puppets at him.
“It was fun but not really believable," she said critically. Lance gave an exaggerated gasp.
“I wanted to hear the story of how you met, but Papi told me a story about a cat and a shark instead.”
Shiro laughed and put her down and tucked her up in bed.
“Well maybe next time I'll tell you the story, but for now you need to sleep," he kissed her forehead and stepped away.
“Goodnight angel" Lance kissed her forehead too.
“Good night papa, goodnight Papi," she called after them, yawning. She closed her eyes and snuggled up in her blankets.
They left her room turning the lights off but leaving the space nightlight on; it shone a gentle pattern of stars around the room.
“So a shark and a cat huh?” Shiro asked when they were in their room. He held Lance's wrist looking at the handmade sock puppets.
“What else?” Lance asked with a grinned. He wiggled his fingers making the sock puppets mouths move.
“I did want to use the socks we were wearing when we first met, but they didn't really work.”
“I think you did a good job.” Shiro smiled. The shark was a deep navy blue with blue eyes. The cat was black, with a white tuft of fur on his head and a white line across its nose.
“It's your turn to tell the story next time. Maybe you can tell the story of the Cat and the Shark's wedding,” Lance said as he pulled the puppets off his hand and carefully handed them to Shiro.
“I think Mirana will like that,” Shiro chuckled. Their daughter would probably get tired of the silly sock puppet stories as she got older, but socks had paid an oddly important part in their lives, in bringing them together and keeping them together, it only felt right to tell her the story of their love through socks.
Posting this early since I wont have time to post later on today. I hope you al enjoy this installment
-
“Shiro, you're supposed to be the mature big brother here. Can we please go?” Keith chided, trying, to no avail, to drag Shiro away from the shooting game. Even when he grabbed the other's arm and pulled putting all of his weight into it, Shiro didn't budge. Keith huffed and smacked his brother's shoulder.
“But...it's so cute,” Shiro whined staring up at the large plush toy that hung at the very front of the stall longingly. It was a lion, sat on its stomach, it's fur and fluffy mane a deep, shiny black.
“You do know it's probably a defect or something. It's just there to attract people,” Keith tried to reason. Who'd ever seen a black lion cuddly toy anyway? It was probably meant to be a panther, and someone had accidentally stuck a mane on it or something.
Shiro was not deterred, but his pout deepened. He was big, broad and muscular and looked like he could crush a car with his bare hands, and yet he now wore the expression of a kicked puppy.
“Look we tried, but we spent all our money,” Keith hit him with harsh reality. It was the kindest thing to do. Shiro flinched and hung his head, his shoulders hunched so low he looked half his normal size.
They'd both tried, more than once, but even Keith throwing the gun at the target hadn't netted them more than a pathetic consolation prize.
“One game please!” A man suddenly appeared beside them and slapped his money down on the counter. He was tall, tanned and gorgeous, with a playful smile that drew Shiro's attention. Keith rolled his eyes at the man's confidence and was not impressed.
Sensing eyes upon him the man turned to face them, shooting a brighter smile and a wink that said 'watch me'. Keith scoffed and turned away, but Shiro was captivated.
The stall holder took the man's money and handed him a gun with as much indifference as he'd treated Shiro and Keith. He seemed bored, positive that no one would be able to win the big prize.
The newcomer took the gun and settled the butt against his shoulder. He took careful aim each movement practised and precise. Shiro thought he almost looked like a professional, Keith thought he was showing off. The man held still for a moment so poised and deeply focused it was hard to tell if he was still breathing.
Then he pulled the trigger. The first shot hit it's target dead on, as did the second and every one after that. He hit everything he needed to get the grand prize.
Straightening up the man turned to them, resting the gun on his shoulder with a smug smirk.
“And that's how it's done!”
“Nice work sharpshooter,” Shiro grinned. He applauded the man.
The man flushed a little, a rosy glow to his cheeks he lowered his gaze bashfully. He turned back to the stall handing the gun back to swap it for the big black lion plush toy.
“Here,” he turned back to Shiro, holding the lion out to him. Shiro blinked, and even Keith turned back to them, curious and surprised at the stranger's generosity.
“The name's Lance, by the way, but sharpshooter has a nice ring to it.” He smirked.
Shiro's heart skipped a beat as he took the lion. He hugged it tight and buried his face into the fluffy mane. It was just as soft and cuddly as he'd thought.
“I'm Shiro, this is Keith,” Shiro said lifting his head from the lion's mane once he felt he'd recovered enough to meet Lance's eye again. Keith gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement but said nothing.
“I have to repay you somehow for this...” Shiro said, though as Keith reminded him earlier, they had no money and giving Lance the consolations prizes they'd won hardly seemed like a fair trade.
“How about we exchange numbers, and you promise to call me back?” Lance grinned.
Shiro was more than happy to agree to that, though he still felt he was getting the better half of the deal.
When Shiro got home, he found Lance hunched over the dining table scribbling furiously. The sound of the pen scratching and tapping against the table drown out his low mutterings, and a heap of papers covered the table and floor around him.
Lance was stressed about the wedding, so it wasn't unusual to find him at the table pouring over wedding invitations, catalogues, or seating plans, but this was new. The only thing written on the papers was his name, which he'd signed in large looping letters right over the page.
He grabbed a clean sheet of paper, scribbled his name out again, and studied for a moment. He scowled, shoved the paper aside, sending a fresh flurry falling to the floor, and grabbed another sheet of paper. He did the same thing all over again.
Shiro watched him for a few moments hoping he might be able to figure out what was wrong without interrupting Lance and frustrating him further. He had nothing, and if left any longer he feared Lance would end up wearing holes in the table.
“Sweetheart? Everything ok?” Shiro called gently approaching Lance with the caution of someone attempting to sneak up on a dangerous wild animal.
“Kashi!” Lance whined. He dropped his bed and looked up at Shiro desperately with a wild look in his eyes.
“None of these look right” None of them fit!” He exclaimed with a hitch in his voice, fighting back tears.
Shiro took a step closer to get a better look at the papers. Lance was practising his signature, but now that he looked closer Shiro could see he wasn't signing his name as it was, but as what it could be. Some of the papers were signed as Lance Shirogane, others as Lance Shirogane-McClain and several as Lance McClain-Shirogane along with all possible combinations and abbreviations of the name.
The one thing they hadn't decided on yet was what name they would take after they were married.
'So that's what's all this is about.' Shiro thought to himself.
Smiling in understanding, Shiro offered a hand to Lance. Head hung dejectedly Lance took Shiro's hand. Shiro held his hand tightly, squeezing it before pulling Lance to his feet. He held Lance against him, and Lance sank bonelessly into his embrace as if he didn't have the energy to stand. How long had he been doing this?
“What's wrong with them?” Shiro asked calmly as he rubbed soothing circles on Lance's back.
“Everything,” Lance grumbled sullenly.
Shiro squeezed him once and then lead Lance over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled Lance onto his lap. He tried again.
“Do you not want to change your name?” He asked. He'd made it clear that he didn't expect Lance to change his name, that he wouldn't love him any less no matter what he decided. Lance was attached to his name, and his family as much as Shiro was attached to his own. They didn't have to share a name to get married and be a family of their own.
“No, I do!” Lance said quickly.
“I do but..it just doesn't suit me,” he whispered. His head fell on Shiro's shoulder heavily.
“My name doesn't suit you?”
Lance shook his head the tucked his head into the crook of Shiro's neck.
“Then I could change my name to yours. Takashi McClain has a nice ring to it," Shiro hummed running his fingers through Lance's hair. He liked his name, but if it was causing Lance this much heartache, then Shiro would change for him.
“You shouldn't have to change your name because I don't suit your name,” Lance muttered.
“Or we could swap names” Shiro went on.
“What, and I'd be Lance Shirogane, and you'd be Takashi McClain?”
Shiro nodded. “Why not?”
Lance laughed, a small laugh but he relaxed in Shiro's arms.
“That sounds dumb.”
“I don't think I like your tone Lance Shirogane,” Shiro chided. He turned on Lance and started to tickle him. Lance shrieked and tried to escape, but Shiro had a firm hold on him.
“Ok ok, I'm sorry Takashi McLeish!” Lance said between his giggles. Shiro stopped tickling him.
“I still think it sounds dumb though."
Shiro kissed him.
“Whatever name you take, you'll always be the Lance that I love,” he whispered against Lance's lips.
--
They settled on taking each other's names as their middle names in the end, and the wedding of Lance Shirgane McClain and Takashi McClain Shirogane went passed without a hitch.
Lance now signed his name 'Lance S McClain' the S between his names written in a big, bold swoop.
I’m sorry this one is horribly rushed because I wrote for the wrong prompt today and only just noticed, so I wrote this at the last minute....anyway I hope yo enjoy this little ‘Lance and Shiro watch a horror movie’ trope
-
It was team movie night and Lance's turn to pick what they would watch. He selected the move carefully, after considering many factors, he settled on a horror movie.
Not that he was a particularly big fan of horror movies, but Lance had a plan, and that plan was to show that he was the bravest and most unflappable member of the team. He was also going to get the satisfaction of making Keith scream during the movie, if the film itself didn't scare Keith then Lance had a backup plan, which mostly involved tapping him on the shoulder when Keith was focused on a particularly tense moment. Well, it worked with his siblings.
The added advantage was that it was an Altean horror, which meant even Allura might get started, and if she needed someone to hold onto, well Lance was determined to sit neck to her and provide her with that service.
He was just in the middle of setting everything up when the door opened, and Shiro walked in.
“Hi Lance, look like it's just going to be you and me tonight,” he greeted his eyes not quite meeting Lance as he spoke, a clear sign of a guilty conscience but Lance was too busy fussing with the snacks to notice.
“Hmm?”
“Keith said he wanted to train and Pidge is working on some project. I ran into Hunk on the way here, and he said he wanted an early night, and Allura and Coran had some business to attend to on the ship, they said it couldn't wait.” Shiro rattled off the list of excuses smartly. He sounded like he was reading from a script, but in his disappointment, Lance didn't question it.
“Really? What's the point in scheduling movie nights if everyone goes off and makes other plans? And I expected better of Hun,” Lance huffed crossing his arms. Shiro smiled at his indignation and tried not to think too much about how adorable it was.
“Oh well guess we may as well call it off, I'm sure you have better things to do,” Lance grumbled sullenly, moving to take apart the comfortable next of pillow and blankets he'd made on the sofa.
“No!” Shiro said sharply. Lance froze.
“I mean, I'd still like to watch the movie. I could do with some downtime.” He smiled.
“Oh.” Lance hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
“Ok then.”
They made themselves comfortable on the sofa, and the film began. It started out as strangely as any of the other Altean movies they'd watched so far, which was to say it was full of confusion references that they didn't understand, but the story was easy enough to follow.
The first scare of the movie passed with them both jumping in their seats and pushed them closer together. They smiled at each other sheepishly and shared a nervous chuckle.
“That was weird,” Lance said. He settled back on the sofa and leant a little closer to Shiro.
“Yeah.” Shiro agreed. He leaned closer to Lance their shoulders just touching.
The next scare made Shiro yelp. He grabbed Lance's arm. Lance had turned an odd shade of grey.
As the movie progressed, the two men clung tighter to each other. A hand on an arm turned into hands held tight. Shiro tucked his head into Lance's shoulder, trying to hide from what was on the screen and Lance curled into him, almost crawling into the other man's lap as he too tried to escape.
Both were too horrified to do the sensible thing and turn the movie off.
When the movie ended neither made any move to let go of the other.
“Let's never talk about that...” Shiro said in a low whisper, his voice trembling.
“Especially not to Coran or Allura,” Lance agreed. Neither wanted to encourage the Altean's to try an explain the movie to them. There were some things they were better off not knowing, the movie alone was bad enough.
“So uh…do you want to stay here for a bit?” Lance asked. He held onto Shiro tighter and snuggled closer. Lance didn't want to go back to his room alone.
Shiro held onto him tighter. “Yeah. I don't think I can go to sleep yet.” He admitted.
Both men spent the night sleeping on the sofa curled up in each others arms.
