Chapter Text
Hey,” Lance slid into the bench beside Keith, flashing him a tiny grin.
Keith blinked up at him, fighting the urge to scowl. He lost. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your new fangirls?”
Lance paused at the venom in his teammate’s voice before shrugging, crossing his long legs. “I dunno,” he stole a glance towards Keith, who side-eyed him in turn.
“Guess I’m just tired of all the attention.”
“You?” Keith snorted, “tired of attention? Please.”
Lance chuckled sheepishly, smoothing back his hair. Was it Keith’s imagination or were the Cuban’s chocolate locks beginning to resemble his own?
Lance sighed, leaning back. “Yeah, I guess that’s pretty hard to believe,” he turned towards Keith and smirked. “I mean, me? I couldn’t ever let my adoring public down.”
The feeling in Keith’s stomach was back, like the fluttering wings of a hundred tiny mothmen.