Chapter Text
It was Shiro’s birthday tomorrow, and Lance had decided he’d bake something, because Hunk was already in charge of a proper dinner (no disgusting food goo on Shiro’s birthday!) and he didn’t have the time to get a present. After all the work Shiro put into everything, he deserved some cookies, which is why Lance was standing here in the kitchen, trying to make something even slightly edible out of the few ingredients he had been given.
On the counter in front of him were a box of something akin to flour with the same texture and smell, but with a bright purple colour, the space equivalent of butter (very gooey butter, Lance might add), eggs that looked surprisingly similar to earth-eggs and a very sweet plant he could use as a substitute for sugar. The only thing missing were chocolate chips, but he’d probably find something if he dug a little deeper into the kitchen cupboards.
He didn’t. No chocolate chips for Shiro, then.
Right as Lance was about to start reading the old Altean recipe for the cookies (he refused to think about how this was probably going to be a disaster), the door slid open, and standing there in the entrance was none other than Keith Kogane, sweaty and gross from training all day, and Lance definitely didn’t sneak a glance when he pulled up his black shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.
Nope, he didn’t. Because that would be weird, and Lance didn’t think Keith’s defined stomach looked appealing whatsoever. Girls, he reminded himself. Girls.
Back to the recipe. He decided it would be better to ignore Keith, who was silently grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and pouring water into it, before looking over Lance’s shoulder, warmth spreading from his body and seeping into Lance’s skin. His traitorous heart quickened, painfully aware of how close the other boy was standing behind him, barely leaving an inch of space between them.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously, taking a sip of his water, and thank God, he was leaning back again to give Lance the much needed room to breathe.
He’s a boy, he reminded himself. Girls, he added, because yeah, what else was he supposed to think? It’s always been girls and that wasn’t going to change now – especially not because of Keith fucking Kogane – Lance was sure of that.
"Baking cookies. For Shiro", he grumbled, starting to put the eggs and the weird butter into a bowl.
"Shit", he heard Keith mutter under his breath. Lance’s eyes lit up, and a smirk tugged at his lips when he turned around. Keith was still way too fucking close.
"What, you don’t have a present?"
Keith glared at him, dark eyebrows drawn together over his pretty eyes. No, Lance chided himself, not pretty. Pretty ugly maybe.
"No."
He seemed to grapple with himself for a moment, reluctance evident in his sharp eyes, but then he sighed, visibly deflating and shoulders slumping down.
"Can I help you? We could make it a shared present. I’m sure you’ll somehow mess it up anyway."
Lance gaped at him. Had he heard that right? This guy had the audacity to insult him after asking if he’d share his grand idea of a present with him. Absolutely not, he was not going to let Keith ruin-
"Sure", he heard himself say, before he could even finish his thought. Stupid brain, just betraying him like that.
Keith looked surprised, and because Lance wasn’t going to make it easy for him, he added.
"Make sure you don’t burn anything, hotshot."
Fuck, he didn’t mean to say that. His face started burning with embarrassment. It was only going to get worse from here on, wasn’t it?
Yes, it was.
They managed to work together in silence for the first fifteen minutes (besides Keiths chuckle at the purple flour, which was a beautiful sound that Lance definitely didn’t file away in his brain), before something went wrong. Something meaning that they both understood the recipe in their own way.
"You can’t just throw the plant in there!"
Keith eyed him, confusion turning into annoyance when Lance snatched the orange leaf from his gloved hands. Why was he even wearing gloves while baking?
"Take those off", he pointed to the black leather, "and wash your hands. God, you’re gross."
Keith raised an eyebrow but listened to him (probably for Shiro’s sake), pulling off his gloves with his fucking mouth, because he was extra like that. It did things to Lance’s stomach. Awful things.
He really needed to get a grip on himself, because he definitely wasn’t crushing on Keith. Keith was his rival, his teammate – maybe he’d even call him his friend – but not his crush. That would be terrible for everyone, and most of all for Lance himself because how was he supposed to go about his day if he needed to train with him, and go on missions with him, and do mind melding exercises with him? Oh God, not the mind melding exercises.
The team would have to suffer too, because how were they supposed to form Voltron, if Lance was too busy keeping other emotions under control?
"What? That’s all it took for you to shut up?"
Keith had the audacity to smirk. Asshole.
Lance grumbled a few insults under his breath, before using the plant how he thought it was supposed to be used while Keith washed his hands. When he saw that Lance had continued without him, he groaned.
"Are you fucking serious?"
"It’s technically still my present, so if you don’t like it then just leave!"
The red paladin rolled his eyes, but he stayed. "Fine."
They somehow managed to finish mixing the ingredients and portioned out the dough into cookie-shaped bits. When the baking tray was finally secure in the oven, Lance sighed with relief, which turned into a surprised yell when a bunch of flour landed in his face.
He stared at Keith in disbelief, whose hand was covered in purple powder, and who had an evil glint in his eyes. Oh, that motherfucker.
"What was that for?" Lance shouted, exasperated.
Keith shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
"For you being so annoying. It’s payback."
Lance’s eyebrow twitched.
"Oh, I’m gonna give you payback", he muttered, grabbing a handful of the flour and throwing it into Keith’s face. A satisfied grin broke out on his face, when the other boy started coughing, black t-shirt and stupid mullet now painted in a new colour.
"Purple suits you", Lance noted.
"That was my last shirt, you jerk”, Keith grumbled, trying to get the powder off his clothes.
"Well, considering it was all sweaty and gross from training, you should’ve taken it off anyway."
That was the dumbest way he could’ve phrased that sentence, but it seemed to get right over Keith’s head, because he was busy with shoving another heap of flour into Lance’s face.
Their fight continued for a while, until the floor and their bodies were covered in purple, and there was almost nothing left in the once full package. Suddenly, the door slid open to reveal Hunk, whose expression morphed into horror upon seeing the chaos.
"What are you guys doing?!"
Poor guy, Lance thought. Sure, the other team members were used to their antics by now, but somehow, he and Keith always came up with new ways of annoying the crap out of each other. Keith paused mid-movement, and Lance scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Uh, sorry Hunk. I promise Keith is gonna clean that up."
Keith’s head whipped around to glare at him. But before he could react, Lance was already out of the kitchen and sprinting towards his room.
After taking a shower – he liked to take his time under the hot water, using three different shampoos and shower gels – and doing his skincare, Lance changed into fresh clothes and threw the old ones into his already full laundry basket. He needed to empty that soon, or he’d end up without clothes like Keith, apparently.
Not that Lance would mind if Keith walked around shirtless.
There was a knock on his door, and after he pressed the button to open it, he was greeted with just that sight. Speaking of the devil.
The blue paladin allowed himself a moment to take Keith in. His black hair was wet and tousled, and he’d slung a towel over his otherwise very naked shoulders. Lance’s gaze trailed down his chest, over the slight definition of muscle and down to his sweatpants.
Shit, he was definitely checking him out, and very obviously on top of that.
Lance snapped his head up, ignoring the heat creeping into his cheeks.
"What do you want, mullet?"
There was that stupid smirk again. Lance hated it.
"Enjoying the view?" he teased, leaning against the frame and making it impossible for Lance to just shut the door.
"No", he hissed through gritted teeth. Liar, his brain unhelpfully accused him.
"Sure", Keith nodded. "I’m here to ask you for a top, because you ruined my last shirt and I also cleaned the kitchen and put the cookies out of the oven, so you owe me."
Well, he wasn’t wrong there, but Lance debated if he really should give him something to wear, because why should he, when he could see Keith shirtless for a little while longer? Ugh, what was wrong with him?
But Keith would probably just ask Shiro then, and Lance had one final idea to prove to himself that no, Keith wasn’t hot, he was very, very ugly.
Now, it was his time to smirk.