like a wildfire;

[spazzed]

Who: keith, shiro, lance, allura
What: catch-all for shenanigans during february
Where: casa voltron, possibly other places, who even knows
When: all month
Warnings: nothing just yet but will be updated as needed!

Comments

[spazzed]

( first off — why would lance do something like write his name on your wrist, keith? that's just … silly in a juvenile way that one might have actually expected from him to begin with, but that's not the point, because this one time something isn't actually his fault.

but moving right along because that isn't the point. the point is that eventually lance is going to notice the other's name on his own wrist, and while he might not immediately jump to the conclusion that keith had put it there himself, he might. well, of course he'll wonder why it's there, but it's more than likely he'll find himself still staring at the person the name belongs to than anything else.

so.

keith apparently notices him first, and of course it's only a matter of time before his eyes are open and trained on the other's form standing just off to the side; he rolls over onto his side in one jerky motion, trying still to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he rubs at them, but that only proves to center his focus even more on the lines of him, the way he's standing, and he's pulling himself into a sitting position before he knows it.

he can't stop staring. he should stop staring — but he can't, and he still hasn't noticed the name on his wrist, but it doesn't seem all that important when literally everything about keith is begging his attention.

finally: ) H— hi. ( like a dope. like the dope he is. but would you have really expected anything less? )

[marmoron]

[Oh. Oh god, he's awake. Horrified by the prospect of having been caught staring, Keith forcibly averts his eyes and looks down at the floor.]

...morning.

[Smooth. They're both so smooth this morning. Keith chances a quick glance back up, only to accidentally lock eyes. His heart skips a beat, and Keith bites the inside of his lip. Focus, damn it. Lance was scribbling on him while he was asleep; he can't get sidetracked by this inexplicable fluttering going on in his chest. Swallowing hard, Keith takes a deep calming breath, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten the bed head a little.]

You.... uh .. get a little possessive last night?

[Why the heck is he so okay with this if that's the case.....]

[spazzed]

( so, so smooth. the most smooth. they're so good at this and so smooth that allura and shiro are going to come out of their rooms later wondering how in the whole of everything does it feel so smooth in here.

but they have to get past this staring thing first. keith looks at the floor, and lance looks at how his hands have pretty much just dropped into his lap like dead weight, all on their own, and he finally notices the name on his wrist. now, the other's question would have been even more confusing if it had come before he'd seen this, and granted it had come in the middle of him seeing this, and it's still confusing. and.

possessive? him? why would he —

his heart does another funny little thing in his chest that there isn't a name for, because it isn't a flip and it isn't a flop but it makes him a little bit tingly all over. from the tips of his toes to the tips of his fingers and those fingers kind of really want to reach for keith and see if his intuition is, for once, right.

is his name on his wrist? is that why he's asking? why is he so pleased by the thought of that? ) No more than usual. ( he blurts out, and he's not entirely sure why he says it, but he's going to roll with it.

absently, he touches the name on his wrist, thumb brushing back and forth over it. ) Did you? ( it isn't an accusation. not in the least.

but the emphasis on you might just mean he wants the answer to be yes. or something. )

[marmoron]

[Whatever train of thought Keith had going on, it comes to an abrupt stop. No more than usual....? What kind of answer is that anyway? Is the implication that Lance is a little possessive usually supposed to be there or is it just what he wants to hear? He doesn't even get the chance to dwell on this question for long as Lance barrels on with another statement that leaves his mind racing with daydreams he's only halfway successfully managing to put aside.]

Huh? [Blurted. Genuinely confused, but then something catches up a second later and he starts out stammering.] ..I..N-no? I mean I thought about whether you were actually okay sleeping on the couch. [A beat.] ...Because of the whole eye thing.

[And also because he cares, but that is utterly besides the point.

Why is Lance turning the question around on him now..? Feeling heat rising to his cheeks, Keith immediately drops eye contact, suddenly very interested in Lance rubbing at his wrist. Like there's something on it? Time to focus entirely on that, y/y?

Keith makes his way over to the couch, taking a seat next to Lance. This is all just to see what's going on with the guy's wrist -- nothing else. Nothing else at all is being gained from sitting next to Lance.]

Lemme see your arm?

[spazzed]

( maybe he's a little possessive sometimes. maybe he doesn't normally think about things like that because he doesn't have a reason to, but now he is and he's kind of wondering why but not really because it's … geared in keith's general direction, and it doesn't seem like it's out of place.

some. how.

but. even before the other has a chance to come sit next to him he's folding his legs underneath him, somewhat comfortably and maybe it's to make space for him should he choose to stop staring at the floor anytime soon, but at the bit about the couch he gives a one-shouldered shrug. ) It doesn't bother me. ( he offers nonchalantly, even though he might be pointedly ignoring any stabbed ends of sofas that may or may not look like eyeballs. ) I barely notice anymore.

( and. oh. okay. he's coming to sit next to him and he's shifting like he means to make more room for him — even though it isn't necessary, it's just a bit of restless energy and restless movement for the sake of it — and he's still brushing his fingertips over his wrist when keith asks to see it, and he thinks that maybe he shouldn't have been drawing attention to it, but at the same time … why not?

he swallows a little bit thickly, and offers his arm. he knows this is what they're focusing on, now, so in turn: ) Can I see yours too?

[marmoron]

[Lance holds out his forearm and for a moment it's like the abyss is staring right back at him. So they both just... woke up with each other's names on their bodies? His expression softens a little, the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips before he's thought to repress it. This isn't right, this is weird, something is going on.

But his name just looks so good on Lance's beautiful skin.

He glances up reflexively at the question, blush intensifying as they lock eyes again.]

...oh. [God why is he acting like this. Lance asked to see his arm. There's no reason to act like he was just asked to strip naked, damn it. Keith repeats this to himself as he nods and rolls up his sleeve.] Sure thing, Lance.

[Heart thudding irrationally in his chest, Keith tries to get a grip again.]

Looks like we match.[Help, that is completely and utterly besides the point. Back to the bigger picture.] I mean -- if you didn't do it and I didn't do it, then....

[spazzed]

( it's a rare thing to see keith smile — really smile — and in that moment, lance doesn't want anything else than for it to stay there, regardless of how it had been put there in the first place, though it seems like …

it's the way he's looking at his own name, like he likes the placement of it and the thought of that makes the back of lance's neck tingle just a little, almost like before but just a little more intense, and the warmth building in his chest is something he can ignore. not. that he would think to do it now, but it bears mentioning.

sure thing, lance.

and now he's wondering if the other has always said his name like that, or if he's just imagining things or if these entire early-morning happenings are a dream that his subconscious mind has cooked up for him, but whatever it is he's not too keen on it stopping just yet, and. so. again he swallows around the fact that his throat is dry as the desert and reaches out to bring keith's arm close to his own.

side by side, so he can look at their names on each other's skin properly. ) Yep, we … we do match. ( he doesn't really think to stop himself from reaching out to trace the lines of his own name, over soft, pale skin like he still can't believe it, and he can't — or wouldn't, in any other situation — but it doesn't matter, because he doesn't care, because his name is there and that means something and has keith always been this warm? ) I … um. ( still distracted, give him a minute. ) I don't know.

( does it matter?

he could mention one of the gods, because it seems like something they would do, because that's what gods do, isn't it? mess with people? but this … this doesn't feel like being messed with.

this feels like the most right anything has felt in a long time. so. he can't say anything else. not yet. )

[marmoron]

[Their arms look nice together side by side with those names showing for the world to see. It's the physical manifestation of every little feeling his mind insists on having. We belong together. We're a part of each other. Stomach forming a knot, Keith holds his breath, keeping unnaturally still like maybe if he doesn't move, Lance won't notice anything.....

But then again, if he did notice, would that be so bad? Fingers brush over his wrist and--]

Ohh...

[The soft, surprised noise escapes his lips at the gentle touch, drawn out a little at the end in a way that betrays just how pleased he is about this development. Why is he so pleased? Why is his skin tingling where they're connected?

...And why is he marveling at all these observations instead of moving as far away from Lance as possible?

Does it matter? Part of Keith is adamant that it absolutely does matter if things are going around, scribbling on their sleeping bodies because that's invasive on multiple levels, but that same part of him's heavily drowned out by some other realization.]

...you're right, it doesn't matter. We can deal with it together.

[...right? Keith looks at Lance with a hopeful kind of smile. He can't be the only one who feels like as long as they're together, everything else will work itself out.]

[spazzed]

( there's a very nice contrast happening here, even in the dim light of the early morning, pale next to dark and lance can't help but to be just a little bit mesmerized by it, just for a second, thoughts trailing off to the picture they might make if he threaded their fingers together, or —

( because we're a part of each other. because it feels like we've always been. because just being close to you makes me feel like i belong somewhere. )

they're stray thoughts, because he's trying to focus but they're there just the same, little whispers in the back of his mind as fingertips keep tracing over the letters of his own name, the fragile veins beneath. because that surprised sound is something he thinks he might want to hear again — or he isn't sure, but what he does know is that he doesn't want either of them to move. doesn't want there to be any distance between them, if they can help it.

his fingers trace up, over the inside of keith's wrist and over the center of his palm, the tips ghosting over random points like the base of his thumb, following over the lines of the delicate bone beneath his skin, and when he looks up and sees that smile? he thinks again that he wants to see so much more of it, because it's pretty and it makes his heart press against the cage of his ribs in the sort of way that seems like it's reaching for the other's own in turn. )

Yeah. ( he finally says, not quite realizing that he has curled their fingers together until he's brought both of their hands up to brush his cheek over the backs of the other's knuckles. there's almost a press of lips, there, too, but not quite. ) Together … I really like the sound of that. ( and when he smiles back?

it's hidden against the back of keith's hand, pressed into it like a secret he'll be able to feel more than anything else, something for just the two of them to keep for themselves. ) It sounds good, doesn't it?

[marmoron]

[Lance takes his hand and Keith's smile colors into something more than just hopefulness. Adoration. Their palms align so perfectly together, and in some nostalgic rush he can't help thinking back to that moment he first held Lance's hand while he was injured during Sendak's assault on the castleship. That was years ago now, but it's fresh in his mind from their recent conversation about the bonding moment that wasn't actually forgotten.

His heart had done so many weird things then, too -- skip beats, flutter, stop, race. Interlacing their fingers as the other paladin told him they made a good team had come so naturally, as had gently supporting him with his other hand. I'd have done that for anyone -- was what Keith had said about it a few weeks ago, but god knows it's a half truth at best. He thought he'd gotten over ... whatever the hell that was. Correction: he had gotten over it. Pushed it as far away from him as possible when it became obvious Lance only had eyes for pretty girls; Keith's no masochist.

But everything about this makes him wonder if he'd been wrong. Being next to Lance, holding hands and feeling a smile on the back of his hand... all of it's just making him ache to get even closer. Because that's how we should've been all along.]

Together sounds perfect, Lance....

[Said so softly, barely louder than a whisper because it's only for Lance's ears. Keith reaches up to gently trace over his jaw, touch affectionate as stops to hook his thumb under his chin to keep Lance from ducking his head. Keith moves a pinch closer, smile still soft and warm. It's too early in the morning and neither of them have washed their faces or even combed their hair, but that doesn't matter. It feels more intimate to be able to look at Lance up close when he hasn't yet gone through the motions of making himself presentable for everyone else.]

[spazzed]

( he's thought about that conversation a few times since they'd first had it, mulling over the things they'd said and what he'd admitted to, even if at the time he'd felt sheepish for having pretended the bonding moment never happened in the first place. it was something that had been difficult to figure out then, when they were all still so new to each other in the larger scheme of things, and to have admitted that something like that had felt intimate in a way that he couldn't really explain was … unthinkable, for some reason.

maybe it was because he'd been convinced it wouldn't have mattered that much to keith, and it was easier to just. deny its happening in the first place than to have that pushed back on him, because it had been the easiest way out and the coward's way out, but they're beyond that now, and that's … all that matters, isn't it?

because being close like this now feels more natural than anything else has, feels right in so many ways that he thinks he might actually lose count if he tried, feels good in all the ways it should when you're so close to someone you belong with. belong to? hm.

both of those sound pretty good in his book. and maybe he'll just keep that last little bit to himself for now —

because keith is saying his name again, and he doesn't bother trying to tamp down the shiver that slithers along the line of his spine like something alive, nor does he ignore the tiny little thrill that comes from the other touching his jaw or hooking his thumb beneath his chin to keep him from looking anywhere but at him. they're so close, in rare form by way of at their most open, before they can style themselves for the way they present themselves to the others and before he's even realized he's moved at all he's aiming to press a kiss to the line of that smile. see if maybe he can take some of its softness for himself and tuck it behind his ribs.

but for all the sharpshooter he thinks he is, his aim is off just a bit and that press of lips lands at the corner of his mouth, closer to the line of his jaw than anything else and he breathes out the smallest huff of laughter, more at himself than anything else. ) I — hold on, I need to try that again. ( a beat, and he's practically speaking against keith's skin for how close he still is, having not bothered to move back in the slightest to allow for his words to remain unmuffled. )

I missed.

[marmoron]

[It's too early for his heart to be beating this fast. Lance has the most unfair, magnetic pull on him and Keith can't help laughing, half nervous half thrilled, by that meandering kiss. Color dusts his cheeks at the tenderness, skin tingling where Lance murmurs.]

That time with the dragon was just a lucky shot, huh.

[Just a bit of light teasing -- something, anything to take the edge off of the anticipatory tension. ]

Or do you need all your targets to be that massive, dragonslayer?

[And despite the nature of these little prods, that last word is said with affection. Keith turns his face a little, enough to bring the corners of their lips together.]

Helpful enough?

[spazzed]

( it isn't like he's actively trying to be unfair, or to have that kind of pull, and while at other times the sound of keith's laughter might have made him wonder if he'd mucked up, made a mistake or just flat-out made himself look like a fool, here, it … it has the same sort of pull that finds the corners of his mouth pulling up into the smallest smile of their own volition.

this is so much and not enough already, even as the fingertips of his free hand ghost over the edge of the other's sharp jaw, tracing over the line of it as he hums right back, keeping up with the teasing and the prod that he hears more affection in than anything else. ) If I said it was a lucky shot, you'd never let me live it down —

( and he's still smiling, because he can't help it when it's so easy to bring to the surface, something that he thinks is going to be a constant in his expression as long as they stay together like this. he breathes out, then in again, the closeness of their lips distracting enough in itself that he could very well miss again, but he's really, really not that bad of a shot. ) I knew you could be helpful when you wanted to be.

( and with his own bit of teasing being tossed right back so easily, he presses in close again, finally finding his mark in the form of the softest little kiss, a tentative sort of thing that sends tingles all through him, from the back of his neck down to the ends of his bare toes. )

[marmoron]

[The quip back almost has Keith laughing again, but the kiss is more than effective at turning it into a hitched breath as the noise catches in his throat. This was an inevitability; the way things between them were going they were bound to end up like this and yet... it still manages to exceed all expectations of what he thought kissing the other paladin might be like. Hesitant and gentle -- Lance feels so warm on his lips, and his face feels warm to match.]

Lance....

[The name's whispered against his lips before Keith leans in to return the kiss, soft and lingering there for a long moment. When he draws back, they're not even an inch apart, just enough to meet Lance's eyes. He doesn't know how they're both still managing to sit on the couch when it feels like someone's turned on a zero-G simulation.]

I never wanna kiss anyone else again.

[spazzed]

( it's immediate, the reaction, the way his whole body goes warm and tingly at the first touch of lips to lips, and it really does take everything in him not to press even closer — not to climb into the other's lap just to destroy whatever tiny spaces there might still be between them — because this feels right in so many ways that he'd lose count if he tried, and it doesn't matter anyway, because he doesn't need to. because this is all he needs, and all he will need in future.

not even the sound of his name can break his train of thought here, because that train is simple and monosyllabic, nothing but keith, keith, keith at the forefront and the back of his mind, every place in between that could have been taken up by any number of things before this.

( but he does hear, it, as well as the words that follow, and he can't help but to smile into that next kiss because it's everything he'd never thought he would have, everything that he'd never thought he deserved, warm and solid and real and right in front of him. he's dizzy with it, lightheaded and turned upside down but in the best way possible. )

he meets the other's gaze, simultaneously taking his bottom lip between both of his own and nipping at it gently, playfully. ) Good, 'cause I don't want you to. ( pause, and then: ) Neither do I.

[marmoron]

[A shiver travels all the way down his spine at the playful bite, and his eyes flutter closed again unthinkingly as he presses forward to steal another kiss. No more words because there's just no need for them anymore. For what feels like the first time in a long time, or maybe even just the first time ever, he and Lance know exactly what they want from each other. No mysteries, no miscommunication -- nothing. They''re connected in ways that transcend Keith's ability to put to words and as strange as that is for him, he's never felt so goddamn content. With Lance, with himself, with just how simple and pure being close can really be.

Hand shifting down to rest on Lance's chest, his fingers close around his shirt, holding him close as he swipes his tongue over Lance's lower lip, then nips back in kind. There are so many reasons why this is objectiely a bad idea that it's almost laughable. They're sitting on the couch outside where anyone can just walk in on them kissing. In fact, they will walk out and see, if Shiro's up at dawn, too, but damn does Keith not care right now.

Kissing Lance, showing him that he's wanted every bit as much as Keith himself feels wanted is just about the only thing that matters. Eyes bright, Keith pulls back only to kiss Lance's neck. And then... feeling that's not enough, Keith leaves a trail of playful bites down Lance's neck, murmuring softly between nips.]

How have we never kissed before...?

[spazzed]

( lance rarely finds moments in which he feels like there is no room for words, because there is always room for words where he's concerned, and more because he just so happens to have a lot to say than anything else; this, though, is so much different from anything they've shared up to now, even with the admittance of the bonding moment because he's at a point in his understanding of both himself and keith that it. makes so much more sense than it used to, if that makes sense at all.

what it all boils down to is that kisses are nice, and words aren't necessary. keith's kisses are nice, with the sharp little edge they have to them brought on by that one little nip of his own teeth, something playful and sweet the longer they stay close like this. like … it's something lance never wants to give up, because he's finally found a place in this too-large universe that he belongs, and it's such a heady, dizzying thing that he's almost sure he could get drunk off that feeling alone.

and it's something he doesn't ever want to give up.

they should think about where they are, in a public sort of place where either of their respective roommates could walk out and catch them — but they don't, and it seems like they aren't going to, especially with the way the other's tongue teases along his bottom lip to the point of this one trying to chase it. making a disgruntled little noise in the back of his throat when he can't keep up, a noise that morphs into something soft and pleased at the line of subsequently-placed nips, fingers unconsciously sinking into dark hair to drag blunt nails over his scalp. )

I … mm. I dunno. ( he's distracted. because you're distracting. this lack of words is entirely your fault.

but he does make an attempt to nip at his jaw in return, any part of him he can reach, because it feels like he isn't touching him enough. kissing him enough. ) I say we make up for lost time.

[marmoron]

[Keith laughs softly, is lips still pressed into the crook of the other boy's neck.]

Sounds good to me.

[And god -- he means it with every fiber of his soul. There isn't a single part of him that doesn't just want to melt into Lance's warmth and just share everything with him. There isn't a single thing in the world that could be more perfect than simply holding Lance close. Tilting his head up a little, he leaves a kiss on the underside of Lance's jaw before forcing himself to put more space between them just so he can take Lance in again with fresh eyes. Seing the way Lance's hair is mussed up from sleeping on the couch gets Keith to laugh again.]

Lance, your hair.

[He reaches out patting down a mop of soft curls, filled with so much fondness that his heart feels like it might burst. Another moment and some self awareness on just how ridiculous his own probable bed head kicks in.]

...I was going to wash up. You distracted me.

[spazzed]

Hey, don't hate on the bedhead. ( he gives back just as fondly, reaching for the hand that had tried to tame it and taking it in his own, kissing the very center of keith's palm before he gives it back to him. all of this just feel so natural that he still can't understand how they hadn't made it this far before, why they hadn't gotten this close before but it doesn't matter in the long run, because they are now and everything feels … well.

perfect is about as cliched as one can get about something like this, but as they say, if the shoe fits —

both hands find their way into unruly dark hair, not so much in an attempt to smooth keith's own bedhead but perhaps make it just a little bit worse, a grin etching its way into lance's expression as it does precisely as he predicts and stands even more on end when he pulls back. it's something, to see keith like this, soft and open with nothing to hide, and his heart swells so much in his chest that it might just burst through his ribs.

but then his face lights up like christmas with a thought brought on by what the other says next. ) I have an idea. ( famous last words. )

Instead of just washing up … wanna do a face mask with me? You won't regret it, I promise.