Chapter Text
It doesn't take more than three seconds being awake for Lance to discover that something isn’t right. He can't tell if it's because a small step was left out of his daily skincare routine or because his mind is foreshadowing another attack from the Galra. But something isn't sitting right with him. Something feels strange.
Coincidentally, it’s also so, so cold...
Sitting up, he wipes the sleep from his eyes and shivers as he rubs his bare arms in an attempt to keep them warm. Wait... bare arms..? Lance is pretty sure that he was wearing long sleeves when he fell asleep. As he continues to rub his hands against his arms, a sudden realization hits him as hard as the cold does.
His jacket has vanished. And there's only one paladin that's notorious for snatching jackets when no one is paying attention.
"Looks like Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up~" Speak of the devil and she appears.
Lance narrows his eyes in Pidge's direction as she makes her way into the lounge room, wearing something that doesn't necessarily belong to her. "Pidge," he says coldly, shooting an obvious glance at his jacket before returning his gaze to her face.
If Pidge notices him hinting at something, she's damn good at not showing it. "That's me!" she grins, adjusting her glasses. "How was your nap?"
"You know, I would have had a wonderful nap had someone not stolen my source of warmth in the middle of it," Lance responds as he eyes his jacket again. Pidge continues to feign obliviousness.
"Aw, what a bummer... That's why we have thermoregulation!" Lance knows she can tell that she’s getting on his nerves, clear by the way her grin morphs into a shit-eating smirk as she stretches her arms above her head. Lance watches as her sleeves—well, his sleeves, technically—fall down from her fingers and stop at her upper arm, clearly many sizes too big for her.
Knowing she’s going to make him spell it out before she does anything, the taller paladin sighs as he stands up, placing his hands on his hips as he looms over her small figure in a playful attempt to intimidate her. “So, would the little thief like to return my jacket any time soon?” he questions, tugging at his hoodie. Lance has to admit, if he weren’t so focused on trying to keep his arms from freezing, he might kiss her right then and there, because damn, she looks really good in his clothes.
Pidge mirrors his pose, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows, and Lance immediately realizes he isn’t going to get his way by simply asking. “Hmm... Nope~” As she responds, she gives the ‘p’ a little pop to emphasize her answer.
Lance scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes as Pidge mimicks him once again. “If you’re unwilling to return stolen property, I’m afraid I’m just gonna have to take it back,” he warns, quickly reaching for his jacket again.
But Pidge is faster, dodging his attempt as she hops back. “Take it back then, Lance. I dare you~” she smirks.
“Oh, is that a challenge I hear, Miss Holt?" Lance chuckles, taking a step forward as Pidge takes two steps back.
"Perhaps~" Pidge retorts, winking at him before turning to leave. "If you're the sharpshooter you claim to be, you should know how to win your hoodie back."
Oh, Pidge sure does know how to rile him up. If it's a fight she wants, it's a fight she's going to get. Lance waits for Pidge to be out of earshot before leaning against the wall with a mischevious grin. "Trust me, I know how to win~"
Lance doesn't know how to win.
No more than two hours into their little game, he quickly realizes how much he wrongly underestimated Pidge. Despite all his claims of being able to easily get to his target with his "sharpshooter skills," his embarrassingly low success rate begs to differ. Each time he plans on sneaking up on her, Pidge is already two steps ahead with some kind of device or distraction to fend him off. Waiting for Pidge to take off his jacket also proves to be largely ineffective. No matter how many tricks he tries to play, whether it's turning on the heater or challenging her to a race, the stubborn green paladin keeps the hoodie glued to her like it's her skin. Finally, Lance settles on a new plan, one that his siblings would constantly pull to trick him into doing what they want.
Guilt-tripping. It's a low blow, Lance knows that. But his arms are starting to get goosebumps and they are not a good look on him. And Lance knows more than any of the other paladins that Pidge doesn't like to see her friends sad and upset. It's the perfect trap.
Noticing the door to her room is wide open, Lance slips in and slumps against the chair Pidge is sitting in. "Hi Pidge..." he says, feigning as much sadness in his voice as he can.
"Hey, what's up with you?" she returns, glancing over at him from the corner of her eyes. She's caught sight of the bait. Now all she needs to do it bite it so he can reel her in.
"Oh, nothing much," Lance sighs again, sticking out his bottom lip in a slight pout.
Judging by Pidge's expression, she can tell that Lance is acting a bit unusual. "You sure..?" Her voice is a bit hesitant as she lightly nudges him. She's swimming towards the bait.
He averts his gaze to the floor for a few seconds for dramatic effect before standing up and looking back at her. "It's just..." He pauses again as he sniffles, rubbing a finger under his eye. "I'm so cold... If only I had something to keep me warm..." He barely finishes his mini-drama scene before a green blanket is tossed at him, landing on top of his head as Pidge snickers quietly. "You wound me, Pidge."
"And you think your terrible acting hasn't wounded me?" Pidge responds with a playful grimace, preparing to throw another blanket at him.
Lance whines in defeat, sulking as he flops onto her bed and sticks his leg in the air. "I'm never gonna get my hoodie back, am I?" he questions.
Pidge lets out a small hum, getting up from her seat and joining him on her bed. "Get up, you big baby," she teases as she lightly smacks Lance's exposed stomach, causing him to jump up with a small yelp. "How badly do you want it back?"
Lance furrows his eyebrows as he shoots her a questioning glance. Somehow, this feels as if Pidge is testing him, and he might end up having to do something he would rather die than think about doing before he gets what he wants. Still, he decides to answer as any desperate man would. "I'll do anything," he pleads.
"I see..." Pidge lightly taps her chin in thought. "In that case, you may have your hoodie back."
"Really?" Lance ends up sounding a lot more excited than he intends.
Pidge flicks his forehead before he can get too hopeful, resting her elbow on his shoulder. "You didn't allow me to finish. You can have your jacket back, but it's gonna come with a cost," she continues.
He really should have expected as such. Sighing slightly, he nodded and motioned for her to continue. "Okay, and what's that?"
A small smirk takes over Pidge's features, and Lance begins to worry that this cost isn't necessarily going to be a fun one. "Well, all it's going to cost you is one kiss," she responds, holding up a finger.
Something clicks inside Lance's mind before Pidge can even finish, and without giving himself the time to consider what he's about to do, he blurts out a quick "okay" and cups her cheeks in his hands. Lance only has a nanosecond to glance at the startled expression on her face before pressing his lips against hers.
Pidge stiffens, clearly caught off guard by the sudden kiss. Lance is in no place to blame her, surprised by his own actions. But he's not about to back out now, especially not when her lips feel so nice and relaxing against his. Within a matter of seconds, he feels Pidge start to relax into the kiss as well, a good sign that he isn't being too rough or too awkward. But the moment ends a lot faster than he's thoroughly content with as Pidge quickly pulls away, her cheeks now flushed a deep reddish-pink. She opens her mouth a couple times as if she's trying but failing to say something. Finally giving up, she huffs as she covers her mouth and tries to hide her face in the hood of his jacket. Lance finds it insanely cute.
"So, do I win?" he jokes, leaning over her shoulder and poking her side.
"Shut up..." Pidge mumbles, her already quiet voice muffled by his hoodie.
Lance beams triumphantly, crawling to the other side so he can catch a glimpse of her face. "I take that as a yes then?" he grins.
Pidge sticks out her tongue, lightly smacking the underside of his chin. "Hm, I dunno. We may have to try that again for verification."
There's that infamous smirk that Lance despises but loves so much, and his heart leaps with excitement as she teasingly inches her way closer to his face again, Lance following suit without hesitation. "Well, only since you insist~"