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“Jesus Christ, date me.”
Not for the first time, Lance regretted talking. The room went silent, and Keith, the recipient of the desperate request, stopped and started at him. Pidge raised her head from her computer for the first time in hours. Time appeared to stand still.
Lance could hear the space crickets.
Slowly, unbelievably slowly, Keith opened one of his weird tool belts that he always wears, still staring at him. Lance gulped.
Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god he’s going to kill me with that knife he always has on him oh god –
Something hit Lance in the stomach. He looked down. It was a fruit. What did that have to –
Fucking Keith.
It was a date. He “dated” him.
“Keith, what the –“
But Keith was already out of the door.
The only sound in the room was Pidge’s laughter.
Lance sank lower into the couch, ashamed and disheartened.
xxxxx
This time, Lance was going to get a straight (haha) answer out of Keith, no matter what.
No dates (except of the romantic kind) were going to be involved this time.
“Hey Keith.”
Keith looked up from the book he was reading.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to go on a date?”
Keith stared at him again, then again, slowly, got something from his tool belt.
Oh no, not again.
Keith stood up, dropped the date, and stood on it.
“Yes, I did want to go on a date, thank you for reminding me Lance.”
He then walked out of the room.
Damn. Lance had been played again.
xxxxx
This had gone on for far too long.
Lance was going to settle this once and for all.
The gulitands, ever thankful for the paladins help, had invited them to a ball.
“Keith,” Lance called out.
“Yes,” came the muffled reply from Keith’s room.
“Do you want to be my date to the ball tonight?”
There was a scuffling sound, and Keith opened the door.
“Sure,” he said.
He was in a date costume.
Lance walked away.
This was a game that he never was going to win.
xxxxx
Lance was in his room, just minding his own business (i.e. being mad at Keith for being impossible to ask on a date) when the mullet himself walked in.
Lance stared at him, and Keith stared back.
The silence was almost as bad as the dates.
Then, finally, Keith broke it.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
Lance gave a sigh of relief.
“Yes, yes I do Keith. How did you know?”
Keith rolled his eyes.
“We could have a date night.”
“Are you saying what I think you are saying.”
Keith gave him A Look.
Lance groaned.
“No more dates, please. No more dates.”
Keith threw a date at Lance.
“I hate you.”