Marked For Death | klangst

One.

"I don't get it," Lance frowned, his leg hanging carelessly over the arm of the couch in their castle's lounge.

Keith rolled his eyes at him. "What is it this time?" he asked, annoyance protruding clearly in his tone.

"If we saved the universe and all..." Lance started again, scratching his head with lean fingers, "why can't we go back to Earth, yet?"

Glaring at him, Keith responded, "I'm sure Zarkon wasn't the only threat out there."

Lance scoffed and ran a hand through his short, brown locks. "Do you ever stop being a pessimist?"

"To be blunt, the answer to that question is no," a new voice said. Lance and Keith both followed with their eyes to the sound, recognizing their friend's voice. Pidge entered the room, her eyes bright with humor. In her arms was a box that was almost the same size as her.

Lance laughed. "Pidge, that thing looks like it could swallow you whole!"

She pushed her round glasses up on her nose. "Don't be ridiculous," she started. Before she could continue, Keith interjected with words of his own.

"That's hard for him, remember?" he reminded her, smirking slyly at Lance, whose jaw was hanging open in protest.

Pidge released a small fit of giggles before she went on. "The only way this box could possibly gain the spirit of life and physically consume me is if I animated it... Or if some of that evil energy from Sendak's crystal infected it." She paused for a moment to look at the bewildered faces of Lance and Keith. "Anyways," she began again, drawing out the word with a nervous smile, "it couldn't possibly happen."

The silence that followed afterwards was broken only by Lance clearing his throat. "What's in there, anyways?" he asked, swinging his leg over the arm of the couch to sit correctly. With both elbows on either of his knees and his hands clasped in front of him, he leaned forward in curiosity.

Pidge blinked. "This?" Lance nodded slowly. "It's just some spare mechanical parts from the hangars. Hunk wanted me to get them for him. Apparently, the goop machines are acting up again."

"Wonderful," Keith scowled, his body sinking into the gray couch. "Just what we need: More food to attack us."

"And to think," Lance chimed in, wiping a fake tear from his eye, "food used to be only thing we could depend on." In mock sadness and immense drama, he put a hand to his forehead and "fainted," his head landing softly on the cushions beside him.

Keith and Pidge both frowned at him. "What about your team?" Kieth inquired, glaring at him again.

Lance sat up straight, his eyes free from emotion before becoming brooding and smart-allicky. "I'm just saying," he started, his voice laced with subtle hints of accusation, "you guys both had your own secrets. Not holding any grudges," he rushed on, holding his hands up in defeat, "but food never did that. Food was always honest and true to itself."

"Careful, Lance." The Blue Paladin looked up at the person speaking. "Talk so much about food like that, you might have to marry it," Keith warned him, a ghost of a smile haunting his lips.

While he and Pidge were laughing, Lance shot unthreatening daggers at Kieth. "Ha-ha. So hilarious. Take humor lessons from your face recently?" At that, Lance joined in on the laughter.

"Oooh," Pidge said, her voice raising at the ends, a smirk of her own playing on her mouth.

Keith's laughter ceased instantly and a smoldering expression grew on his face. "Feeling especially arrogant today, are we?" he asked in an overly-kind voice.

Lance shrugged, a forced look of thought crossing his features. "Not more than usual, no," he denied, that same look entering his eyes.

Pidge giggled again before coughing. "As much as I just adore watching you two throw insults at each other, Hunk needs these, so I'm gonna get going," she told them, beginning to walk towards the door at the opposite side of the room.

As she was about to leave the lounging room, Lance called to her, "See ya, Pidge!"

"Make sure the food doesn't attack us when it's time to eat again!" Keith added, the smolder gone from his face.

"No promises, of course, but I'll try!" she called back, the weight of the large box slowing her down.

Soon, it was just Keith and Lance remaining in the lounge. They sat in awkward silence, both either fiddling with the hems of their shirts or bobbing their knees up and down. To amuse himself by annoying Keith, Lance started whistling a tune with no name. Moments later, Keith's mouth twitched into a permanent frown and his dark eyes narrowed.

"Will you stop that!" he exploded seconds later, his annoyance getting the best of him.

Lance smirked at him. "What's wrong Keithy?" he asked in a voice that resembled one talking to a puppy. "Is my ickle whiddle whistling bothering you?"

Keith stood up menacingly, glaring at him. He walked over to the Cuban teen and grabbed the collar of his army green jacket, lifting his body from the couch. "I'm warning you now, McClain. Stop it," he almost growled, releasing Lance's jacket harshly. He fell out of Keith's grip and unto the cushions.

"Hey, I do believe we come from a free world. I can do what-ev-er I want," he boasted, enunciating every syllable.

"We're in space, remember? We're not there," Keith tried to continue the joke, but Lance's face fell and shattered.

"Yeah, no need to remind me. I'm perfectly aware that we're thousands and thousands of miles away from Earth," he sighed, his eyes filling with sadness.

Keith turned his gaze to the floor beneath his boots. "Lance," he began awkwardly in attempt to amend his mistakes, "I didn't mean to upset you."

But the cause was lost. Whatever humor had filled every particle of air in that room had dissipated into nonexistence in an instant. Keith looked at Lance, his face remorseful and guilty. Then, something new entered his heart. It was a feeling he had never felt previously. It was want -- a deep yearning to heal the wounds he had inflicted onto Lance. He wanted to make the Blue Paladin smile goofily once again, and hear his harmonious laugh -- a feeling so foreign to the pilot of the Red Lion, he had to turn away from Lance, even though he was looking down.

Lance shook his head dejectedly. "That's new," he said shortly, his voice tight and clipped.

"I mean it... I-I had forgotten how much you miss Earth..." Keith continued on, his vision tunneled on making Lance feel upbeat again.

"Yes, let's just keep bringing it up," Lance scowled, turning his body even further from the Red Paladin.

Keith extended his hand hesitantly to comfort him, debating on whether or not it was wise. In the end, he drew his hand back and let it fall to his side. "I... I'm going to go see how Shiro is doing," he announced softly, his voice rueful.

As he walked away, his steps heavy with guilt, he craned his head to look at Lance once more -- just to make sure he was going to be alright, and that he wasn't going to be consumed by the immense sadness hanging over him like a heavy cloud right before a storm. Lance didn't notice. He remained in the same hunched over position, his head droopy. Keith's heart ached -- for reasons still unknown to him, and for reasons just as perplexing -- before leaving the room, the mechanical door sliding open with a dull scraping sound.

What Keith didn't know was that Lance was aware of what he had done, and that he himself had felt the same feelings. His own heart ached for the comfort of Keith's arms. His own heart yearned for his smolders and his brooding nature. His own heart longed for every part of Keith's essence.

As Keith left the room sullenly, Lance moved his gaze up to where he just exited. He swallowed the lump of emotions building up in his throat, tapping his fingers nervously on his legs. His thoughts swirled and bounced within his mind, revolving mostly on the boy he was unknowingly and utterly falling in love with.