#but yeah. now I have to take a washrag and clean around the base of the kitchen sink

[orionangeline]

You can tell my grandma is expecting a tense brunch tomorrow bc she had my grandpa move the fridge so we can clean underneath it

[thatonecurlygirl]

Mercy {Part 4}

Fandom: Stranger Things

Billy x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Read the previous parts One // Two // Three

Based on: Mercy by Shawn Mendes

The sound of your palms smacking the warm asphalt as you catch yourself is a deafening sound in Billy's ears. He doesn't need to turn around to know what had happened, he is very aware of your surprised gasp leading up to the fall and the heavy footsteps behind him. Billy isn't about to let that shit slide for anything.

Billy quickly turns on his heels, throwing a wild punch at Trevor and landing it right on his jaw. As Trevor goes stumbling backward into the neighboring car, Billy walks over to you and helps you off the ground. Distracted by you and making sure you are okay, he isn't paying attention to the quickly approaching footsteps of a furious Trevor.

"Billy." You barely gasp out as he turns back toward Trevor who swings at him. He throws a punch that hits with a harsh smacking of skin and a sharp intake of breath from the forming crowd.

Trevor smirks as he watches the thin line of blood drip from Billy's lip and down his exposed chest. Billy, on the other hand, is terrifyingly calm, watching Trevor's gloating eyes and smug smirk. Billy takes a step toward Trevor, head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed in a deadly glare. 

Consuming all the air inside my lungs

Ripping all the skin from off my bones

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life

I would gladly do it twice.

There is a flash of fists thrown along with the sounds of skin angrily hitting skin and pained grunts. You watch in horror as the two of them fight, your ex-boyfriend and your best friend who just admitted that he loves you. Trevor falls back on the ground and Billy hovers him with no intention of stopping. Still, in shock at what is happening before your eyes, Billy gets a few more punches in before you step in.

"Billy!" You yell, your voice cracking as you try to hold back the tears. "Billy, stop!" You don't dare take a step forward to stop him, no one does, everyone knows it's best not to get in the way of Billy when he's fighting.

As quickly as he began fighting he stops, backing away and pointing down at an already bruised and bloodied Trevor and mouthing something you can't quite make out. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away the blood from his busted lip and looks at you. His eyes are unreadable but searching yours as if trying to figure out what you are thinking. 

"My house." Is all you say before turning toward your car, glaring at everyone that is still standing around. 

You and Billy arrive at your house at the same time. You don't say a word to him as the two of you walk up to the front door. You glance at him with a small sigh before you open the door and the both of you walk in. Of course, the first person you run into is your dad who looks at Billy with a slight surprise. Billy automatically knows what he is thinking and a smirk plays on his lips as he puffs out his chest.

"You think I look bad, you should see Trevor," Billy says pridefully as he smiles at your dad.

"I knew I liked you." Your Dad chuckles in approval as he claps Billy on the back. "Way to go kid." 

"Dad, what happened to not promoting violence?" You ask shocked that your peaceful father is congratulating Billy on fighting.

"Sometimes that rule has to be broken, honey. Especially if it involves someone hurting you. I'm just glad Billy and I are on the same page." Your Dad says as he kisses your forehead. "I'm heading off to work. Be good." 

You watch as your dad chuckles at your astonishment, walking out the front door. As the door closes you turn to Billy who is standing there just looking at you. The smile he was previously wearing for your dad is now gone and he is emotionless as he studies your face.

"You should head off to the bathroom and get the blood cleaned off you. I'm going to get some ice." You turn and head into the kitchen.

You can hear your younger sister and Billy talking in the other room as you dig around the freezer. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there is no ice left, so you grab the bag of frozen peas that have been sitting in there for months. You walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway to your room, pushing your sister out of the way and shooing her down the hallway as you walk in.

"No ice." You say as you lift up the bag of peas.

Billy smiles and nods, as he gently wipes the blood from his knuckles with the damp washrag. Sighing you take a seat next to Billy on your bed and lift the bag of peas to his already bruising face. His eyes flick over to meet yours as your fingers lightly brush across his cheek.

"Look, Billy, we should probably talk about... what you said earlier." You say softly and you can see him tense up as he looks away from you.

"Yeah, I guess your right." He sighs.

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. What do you even say to him? You try to figure it out but you just end up sitting there in silence like a fool. A couple awkward moments later Billy looks up at you, his eyes full of hope and anxiousness and you know that words alone will not suffice.

You slowly pull the bag of peas away from his face, eyes breaking from his as you casually glance down at his lips and lean in without warning. At first, Billy is overcome by shock, never in a million years would he have expected you to do that but he'll be damned if he looks a gift horse in the mouth. He smiles against your lips as he feels you rest your hands on his chest. Your cold fingers warmed by his chest.

"Does that answer your question?" You ask quietly as you slowly pull away from the kiss.

"It does." He smiles and leans back into your lips, cherishing the sweet taste of your lips. He grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap but with your hands on his chest, you gently push away.

"I still just broke up with Trevor. We need to... take it slow." You say as you climb off his lap, biting your lip.

"I can do that as long as I have you." He stands up and steps up to you, his chest pressed against yours as he reaches out to gently caress your face as he leans down into your lips. "I'm going to show you what it feels like to really be loved." 

"You know, I'm team Billy and all but that was just cheesy and don't you think you've kissed her enough?" The nonchalant voice of your sister stops Billy short of pressing his lips to yours and the two of you look over at her.

She stands with her head peeked around the door, eyebrows raised and a smirk on her lips. You watch as she lifts a camera and takes a picture of you and Billy standing with your chests pressed together and surprised. She runs away laughing.

"Was that cheesy?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks flushed red, you've never seen him blush before.

"Not at all." You say quietly and lean in to peck his lips. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Stepping out of Billy's arms you turn toward the door and running out, yelling at your sister. Billy just laughs as he leaves your room, watching you chase your sister around the house armed with a wire hanger. He sits on the arm of the couch and watches in amusement shrugging his shoulders at your mom as she walks by, a confused look on her face. Billy never thought he could actually enjoy the company of someone else's family. He can't even get along with his, but here he is smiling and laughing and it feels... natural.

@xicarcalii @dacremontgomerylover @annoyingbitxhass @supernaturalimagine @thoughstofaredhead  @baebee35

[justheretobreakthings]

Remember Me - Chapter 6

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Word Count: 3,913 (Total Word Count: 20,760) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

It was strange enough for the paladins of Voltron to have found another human this far from home, locked in a Galra prison. But it was stranger still when this human insisted that he knew them, and even that he was the former red paladin of Voltron.

That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, if this Keith was actually a part of the Voltron team, then why does nobody remember him?

Chapter Preview:

“Ready when you are,” Lance said with a nod. “And hey, I know you’re still kinda convalescing right now, so I’ll go easy on you for the first couple of – ”

And before he even noticed Keith was moving, his legs were swept out from under him and he landed hard onto his back. After taking a moment to shake his head clear, he glared up at Keith, who had settled back into his beginning stance, looking perfectly innocent and for all the world like he had absolutely no idea how Lance had wound up on the ground.

“Don’t bother,” Keith said. “I think I can handle it.”

The night before a conference with a dozen planetary leaders from the coalition was a terrible night to have had difficulty sleeping. Throughout the seemingly endless meeting – the timekeeper on the wall of the room measured out three vargas, and Lance couldn’t remember how to convert that to Earth time, but he assumed it was somewhere in the ballpark of thirty years – he constantly found himself dangerously close to nodding off completely and would have to shake himself awake, barring one instance where it took Hunk kicking him in the shin under the table to get him upright again.

It wasn’t that the conferences were boring, exactly; more that they were mentally draining. Although all of the paladins had taken the time to study up on interplanetary geography and relations, they had barely made a dent in all they needed to know when it came to which planet was which, who was allied with whom, how trade systems on different galaxies worked, what embargos were in place, who had what resources, which planets had military forces, what types of governments and laws different planets had, all the important names to know…

If they didn’t have Allura on their side, Lance was certain the team would forever be hopelessly, embarrassingly lost. Sure, Shiro was always nodding along and focusing hard during these meetings, but Lance wasn’t sure if he was actually following everything, or just trying to look like he knew what he was doing. He didn’t speak up all that much when they weren’t discussing Voltron specifically, so Lance suspected it was likely the former at least as often as the latter.

In any case, his I-definitely-know-what’s-going-on face was on in full force today, and Lance tried to match it as best he could as he listened to the aliens on the different screens discussed the positioning of security personnel on trade routes that had been experiencing interception by rival forces. Allura had holographic maps up, with routes highlighted in clusters that looked to Lance like glowing bunches of yarn more than anything else, but which Allura was reading and manipulating like a piano.

Lance zoned in and out listening to the princess speak, searching out for names and places he recognized. “Our cargo line from the Griftsor system to the rebel outpost on Karimaw has been compromised, but now that we have a trade deal in place with the Yltraxians, we can reroute through their quadrant. There’s a tarriff in place on vulcanized esmerite if we cut through Theta-J-1-7’s orbit, but ultimately it would be less than the price of the fuel it would take to go around the rings of Yltrax altogether, so it’s worth the cost,” Allura would say, and Lance would understand some of those words individually.

The conference ran this dry for the majority of the meeting, until finally they reached discussion of recent activity in the battle campaigns on both their own side and the Galra’s, and Lance straightened up, back at full attention; this was the part where he could actually get use out of the information. They ran through an update on encounters since their last meeting – a handful of base raids by the Blade, transport vessels taken down by their rebel forces, the Galra attacking one of their armories and invading one of the moons of Qrandor, and the destruction of the public archives building in Olkarion’s capitol city.

Allura kept calm and composed, face neutral, during the full report, but at that last bit, her brow wrinkled a bit in worry. “They’ve been back to Olkarion? That’s… distressing. We had word a movement ago about an attack on Arus, and recently the Taujeerians reported signals of Galra activity in their vicinity.”

“There seem to be signs of planets previously liberated by Voltron being targeted through relatively contained attacks,” an Alien on one of the screens said – Lance recognized him as Puigian, but couldn’t recall his name. “It would be one thing to work to contain the coalition’s threat to their forces, but strategically it doesn’t seem to make sense for them to be focusing efforts and resources into reclaiming old planets when they could be using those resources to continue expanding outward.”

“We’ll pass along instructions to our Blade undercover operatives to look into this as soon as possible,” Shiro said. “In the meantime, Ryner, what’s the damage on Olkarion?”

“No fatal casualties,” Ryner answered. “There were eight parties injured by the incident, two of whom were considered to be in critical condition initially, but all are expected to make recoveries. It seems the contents of the public archives were being targeted more than the people maintaining and accessing them.”

“That’s a relief,” Allura sighed. “Any other significant damage worth noting?”

“Fortunately no major research operations nor particularly sensitive material was harmed, at least not beyond repair. But the public archives do have historical significance, not to mention sentimental value, so it was still quite the loss.”

“If you have the time to spare for it, I’m sure the Olkari would highly appreciate a visit from Voltron in a more ceremonial context. Never underestimate the importance of keeping up morale.”

The rest of the meeting was spent first on arranging for a visit to Olkarion within the next couple of quintants, and then on the status of and ideas for the public image campaign. Normally Lance would enjoy discussions on this topic, but the meeting had been running for so long by that point, they could have been talking about crowning him king of the universe and he still wouldn’t have wanted to sit still for another minute of it.

He let out a long sigh of relief when the screens finally shut off and they were excused to get up from the table. Immediately he made a beeline for the kitchen to grab a snack, snatching up one of Hunk’s handmade fruit bars before heading out toward one of the rec rooms in search of fun. Around one corner, he bumped into Shiro, only narrowly avoiding splattering the fruit bar all over his shirt. “Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t looking.”

“No harm done,” Shiro said. “I take it you were pretty eager to wrap up the meeting and get your free time in?”

“Was I that obvious?” Lance asked.

“You left the room at about a thousand miles an hour, so, yeah, I’d say so. You know, if you’ve got spare energy to work off, you could head over to the training deck with me. I was going to stop by the kitchen real quick, so I could meet you there right after.”

Lance smiled and nodded. “God, yes, that’d be great.”

“Excellent. I’ll be back in a moment,” Shiro said, nodding to him and continuing down the hall toward the kitchen. Lance finished his own snack there in the hall before making his own way in the direction of the training deck, passing by the open doors of a ballroom, the holodeck, the med bay –

He paused and doubled back when he passed the med bay, peering through the open doorway. Apparently, Keith had relented and taken Allura up on her suggestion of helping Coran with cleaning, since there he was, back to Lance as he scrubbed resolutely at the glass of one of the cryopods. Lance couldn’t help but pause, taking a moment to stand in the doorway and observe.

He was wearing another set of Lance’s clothes, jeans that were too long for him and one of the close copies Coran had made of the blue-and-white baseball tee that Lance favored (after seeing the garish designs Coran had come up with when he first had made the paladins new clothes to cycle through, the paladins had all decided they’d prefer it if he just use the clothes they were wearing already as a style guide with minimal alteration; the Altean had muttered something about ‘stifling his art’, but had nonetheless agreed).

Lance couldn’t help but feel just a little miffed at Keith. It seemed he had taken the fact that Lance had let him borrow his pajamas as an indicator that Keith was free to raid his wardrobe to his heart’s content. Sure, the guy needed clothes, of course, but the least he could have done was ask, even if just as a matter of social convention. Besides, blue still looked terrible on him.

As Keith moved around to the other side of the cryopod to clean, he finally spotted Lance, and jumped back an inch in surprise. “Um,” he said, “… Hey.”

“Hey,” Lance answered, and for a brief and uncomfortable moment, the two of them were silent, just warily observing each other. “So, um,” he continued, scratching uncertainly at the back of his neck. “What, uh, what are you up to?”

Keith stared at him for a moment, then he shifted his gaze first to the cryopod, then to the washrag in his hand, then the bottle of cleaner at his feet, and then finally back to Lance. “I’m auditioning for Cats on Broadway,” he said flatly.

“Okay, mister sarcastic,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes. “Just trying to make conversation is all.”

“Oh.” Another pause before he edged back to the cryopod and continued wiping down the glass. “If you’re going to just be hanging around here anyway,” Keith said after Lance spent another half a minute watching him in silence, “You could go ahead and grab another washcloth and lend a hand.”

“Oh, no, um, I’m busy.”

Keith raised a brow. “You don’t look busy.”

“Well, I will be in a moment, just meeting Shiro to, uh… to train…”

The expression on Keith’s face softened, fell, a flicker of something that Lance couldn’t identify flashing across his eyes before he simply said, “…Oh.” For a moment he stood in silence, chewing at his bottom lip, then he pointedly turned his back to Lance to resume scrubbing at the cryopod, more vigorously than what was necessary, as if he were trying to sand a hole right through it.

“Lance,” a voice came from behind him, and Lance whipped around to see Shiro approaching him from down the hallway. “You coming to train or what?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Lance said. “Just, ah, got held up.”

“By what?” Shiro asked as he reached the med bay as well and looked past Lance, seeing the answer to his question. “Ah. Hi, Keith!” he called. “Morning going all right?”

Keith leaned around the cryopod to look back at the doorway again. “Yeah,” he answered tonelessly.

“How long you been working on the cryopods?”

“I dunno.”

Shiro raised his brow and gave him a soft smile. “So, all morning?”

Keith shrugged. “I guess.”

“Don’t suppose you could use a break?”

“Nah, I’m okay,” Keith sighed, returning his attention to the cryopod. “I’m okay. Go – go ahead to your training, don’t let me keep you. I, uh, I’m okay. Go train.”

Shiro frowned as he watched Keith work. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you’d rather be training than doing this.”

Keith paused his scrubbing, and then after a few ticks, resumed, expression unchanged, as he answered, “Doesn’t matter. Can’t train, remember? Allura’s orders.”

“Actually,” Shiro said slowly, “Technically, she didn’t put a ban on training altogether. She just said you’re not allowed to use any of the training equipment.” He shrugged. “There’s training you can do without weapons and armor, you know.”

This time after his obligatory pause, he turned back toward the doorway, eyes wide. “Wait, are – are you serious?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

Lance frowned up at Shiro. Nothing against the new guy, but he had been rather looking forward to getting to have some one-on-one training with the black paladin. He didn’t get the chance to often, especially considering that it should be a fairly common thing for leader and right-hand man, so the times he did, they were, well, nice. Now a wrench had been thrown into the works, and it was too late to double back; there was no way he could uninvite Keith without seeming like a major dick.

Keith, for his part, hesitated. “But, um, Allura said that if I question whether or not I should be going somewhere, then I – ”

“Well, I think that rule leaves a lot of wiggle room for claiming plausible deniability,” Shiro said with a shrug. “Come on, kiddo, you want to spar or not?”

Again Keith hesitated, and then, the corners of his mouth turning upward by just a hair, he slowly nodded. “Yes. I do, just, uh – just let me finish up here real quick, won’t be a minute.”

“Uh, Shiro?” Lance asked, tugging lightly at Shiro’s shirtsleeve. “Are you really sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’ll be fine,” Shiro replied. “And if Allura finds out and has a problem with it, I’ll take the heat, no big deal.”

“Well, yeah, uh, that too, but I was thinking more, um…” Lance worried at his lip as he fished for something to say, finally settling on, “He’s kind of a twig? You spar with him, you’ll probably break him in two with one hit.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Keith called from across the med bay, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Lance. “And you’re one to talk.”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe he could break me in two, too, if I wasn’t so great at defense. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” Shiro said with a wave of his hand. “I can pull my punches if I need to.” He paused, and then smirked over at Lance, raising his brow. “Unless you’re hinting that you would rather be his sparring partner instead? I suppose two twigs would be a better match.”

Lance punched Shiro in the shoulder. “I’m not a twig! You’re just a hulk. Your perception’s all warped.”

“All right, all right, I’ll take him. Seeing as you’re not up for the challenge.”

“Hey, that’s not it at all!” Lance snapped, and he turned back toward Keith. “Hey, Mullet! I’m your sparring partner now!”

“Um, okay?” Keith said.

Shiro gave Lance a nudge. “Go get changed if you’re gonna spar with him. Wouldn’t be all that fair for only one of you to be wearing armor.”

Lance nodded. “Right. Meet you at the training deck.”

He took off down the hall, reaching his room and getting changed into casual clothes in record time. It had been a while since last he had done any sort of training in day clothes; it actually felt kind of nice, looser, lighter. He stretched his arms and legs out a couple of times and then, satisfied with his range of motion, headed back out to the training deck, where the others were already at their marks, Shiro standing against one of the walls along the deck, Keith out on the floor, his arms looking thin as ever as he stretched them.

“You ready?” Shiro asked.

“Am I ever,” Lance answered, striding toward the center of the room and taking his position.

Keith met him there, situating himself across from Lance and settling into his stance. “We going for three-second pin?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lance said with a nod. He set his feet and lifted his fists into a starting stance. “Ready when you are. And hey, I know you’re still kinda convalescing right now, so I’ll go easy on you for the first couple of – ”

And before he even noticed Keith was moving, his legs were swept out from under him and he landed hard onto his back. After taking a moment to shake his head clear, he glared up at Keith, who had settled back into his beginning stance, looking perfectly innocent and for all the world like he had absolutely no idea how Lance had wound up on the ground.

“Don’t bother,” Keith said. “I think I can handle it.”

“I – I didn’t know we were already starting,” Lance grunted.

“Gotta be on your guard, Lance!” Shiro called from the sideline, and Lance scowled at him before replying, “I know, I know!” He finished straightening himself and firmly planted his feet. “We’ll count down this time, keep it fair, okay?” Keith nodded his agreement. “All right. Three – two – ”

He struck out with a fist before reaching ‘one’, but Keith ducked out of the way before it could hit. He glared at Lance – uncalled for, really, he had just been trying to even things out in regards to false starts – but he didn’t say anything, instead opting to dive right into the spar.

And, honestly, unexpectedly, he was good. He wasn’t packing much power behind the jabs or attempted holds he threw Lance’s way, but it was immediately clear that he knew his way around a fight. He was strategic and calculating even as he kept up a rapid offense, aiming for pressure points and keeping watch for openings and opportunities. His form also wasn’t perfect, as he still stumbled or overshot a couple of times, probably just still unused to fighting at his current weight, but he made up for it with speed and, especially, reaction time.

Lance grew increasingly frustrated as Keith dodged or blocked everything thrown at him, and seemed to catch every opening Lance left even if it was only for a fraction of a second. He gritted his teeth as Keith landed another tap on his left arm as he turned out of the path of the punch from his right almost before he’d even thrown it. They kept a steady distance, Keith matching Lance’s footwork perfectly without even looking down. It was like a dance in which only one partner had been taught the choreography.

In fact, that was exactly what it was like, he realized, and mentally kicked himself for having taken so long to realize it. If Keith remembered training with Lance before in his little possibly-fantasy universe, then he would already know all there was to know about Lance’s moves and fighting style, already had learned how to tell when he was feinting or where he was aiming the next hit. And the same couldn’t be said for the other way around.

There came a point when a hit to the knees and a push to the chest brought Lance to the floor again, and Keith was quick to press Lance’s shoulders down. He was panting hard, Lance noticed, a sheen of sweat coating his pale face, but he didn’t seem to notice. “One – ” Keith counted between panting breaths. “Two – ”

Lance brought his knees up and bucked hard, managing to toss Keith off of him, and the smaller boy wasted no time rolling back onto his feet, going back onto the attack with just as much intensity before, if not more, despite the fatigue starting to take a noticeable effect on him.

They lasted several minutes more, each getting one more almost-pin in that the other managed to break free of, before, finally, Keith overcorrected dodging a hooked punch from Lance, nearly losing his balance and giving the other the opening he needed to bulldoze him to the ground. “One – two – three!” Lance shouted out, and Keith stopped his attempts to throw Lance off of him, instead letting his head collapse to the ground as he closed his eyes and caught his breath.

Lance clambered off of him and to his feet, and, after Keith’s breathing started approaching its normal rate again, he did the same, standing up unsteadly and then bending down to set his hands on his knees, expression unfocused as if seasick. Shiro moved from the sidelines and joined the two of them at the center of the training deck. “You all right, Keith?” he asked, brows pinched in concern.

“Yeah,” Keith said between panting breaths, not taking his hands off his knees. “Yeah, I’m good. Just – stamina’s not what it used to be, I guess.”

“If you’re not feeling well – ”

Keith waved him away. “I’m fine, honest. Just need a moment. I, ah, I haven’t done that in a while. Must have been going harder than I realized.”

“You really didn’t have to go all-out for this, you know. Don’t need you hurting yourself.”

“I know. I just, um, I wanted to.”

Lance snorted. “Wanted to what? See how long you could go before fainting?” Keith rolled his eyes.

“Well, hey,” Shiro said. “For your first time back on the horse in a while, that was really good.” At Keith’s raised brow, he continued, “I mean it. It’s pretty obvious you know what you’re doing a fight.”

Lance frowned and glanced between the two of them. “And, uh… any feedback for me, Shiro? I’m the one who won, so, if he’s good, then…”

Shiro smirked and brought up a hand to ruffle Lance’s hair. “Sure, Lance, you’re the universe’s greatest warrior.” Lance batted his hand away, and Shiro turned to Keith. “I think we’re gonna want to get you hydrated again. Come on, Coran’s got plenty of water pouches at the ready, and it won’t hurt to grab you something from the kitchen too.”

Keith finished straightening up and nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Excellent,” said Shiro. He turned and started toward the door. “You coming too, Lance?”

“Nah, that’s, uh, that’s okay,” Lance answered. “I think I’m gonna hit the shower first.”

“All right. Come on Keith, I’ll lead the way.”

He strode toward the exit, and Keith trailed behind him, but paused before he reached the door. “Hey, uh,” he said tentatively, turning back toward Lance. “Thanks. I - I missed this.”

Lance smiled at him. “Right. No problem.”

Keith nodded a goodbye and ducked out the door. Lance watched him go, letting his smile fall. There was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth from that sparring match, one that he couldn’t quite place, and he didn’t know where it had come from. He was feeling off his game, off-kilter somehow.

Sure, by the end of their spar, Lance had gained the upper hand, but that had only been after Keith had worked himself to exhaustion. He couldn’t forget that at the beginning, he had been getting his ass handed to him. He wasn’t the best fighter in the world, sure, and he’d had his ass handed to him before… so he didn’t know why this was bothering him as much as it was. Something just felt off.

Maybe he had been going easy on him, he thought. Subconsciously, that is. Maybe he’d thought he was giving it his all, but on some level had been all too aware that he didn’t really want to beat up a guy who looked like he hadn’t gotten a minute of exercise or a crumb of food in days, and had pulled his punches accordingly. Some sort of pity thing.

That made sense. That was probably it. Pity. That was probably why Shiro was going out of his way to be chummy with Keith, too. Just being nice and cheering him up a bit since he was down. And that must have been what had left Lance feeling off, too, reading that odd vibe on a subconscious level before the rest of his mind caught up.

Satisfied with that explanation, Lance left the training deck to head back toward the living quarters, deciding he’d go for a nice bath instead of a shower, just a little reward for a fight well fought.