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Tactics

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It was tactics. Honestly, it was. There was only so many times Lance could stand to be flipped and pinned to the floor, or the wall, or find himself panting and generally staring up at the smug look on Keith’s face before drastic action was called for. 

So Lance kissed him.

Keith was probably expecting a head-butt, but Lance kissed him instead. And, okay, so maybe he got a bit distracted for a moment or so there, fingers curling into Keith’s hair, pressing closer because he was a surprisingly good kisser and -

And then Lance was pinned to the floor, with a dark-eyed Keith on top of him with a rather… intent look on his face. 

Lance swallowed, mouth dry. Unable to look away. 

“That,” Keith said, breathing a little heavier now. “Was a filthy trick.” 

 

“It was hardly filthy-” Lance scoffed, ignoring his better judgement that perhaps now was a bad time to push Keith, “-I thought it was pretty tame.”

Tame?!” cried Keith incredulously.

“Yeah, tame. You know, chaste. Innocent. PG-rated.”

“You had your tongue in my mouth!” 

“Well you put yours in mine too! You don’t see me complaining about it.”

“What do you have to complain about? You’re the one who started it!” It was almost funny how hysterical Keith was. If Lance had known that a simple kiss was enough to crack the composure of the oh-so-cool red paladin, maybe he would have tried it earlier. 

“Would you like me to finish it?”

Lance’s tone was calibrated to garner a response - sultry with a crooked smirk. Lance wasn’t disappointed.

Keith gaped at him, squeezing his wrists in a bone crushing grip. Best of all, to Lance’s unending delight, Keith blushed. He actually blushed, pink painting his cheeks and creeping down his pale neck. 

There was just something so captivating, so alluring, about throwing Keith off balance. Lance couldn’t beat Keith in a fist fight, but he would best him at this… Whatever this was.   

For a moment Lance thought Keith was actually going to head-butt him. Or kiss him. Good, he was getting under Keith’s skin; that meant he was winning. 

Abruptly, Keith released him and got up, wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.

He marched out of the training room in high dungeon, every line of his body furiously rigid.

“I’ll take that as a no, let me know if you change your mind!” Lance called after his retreating figure.

 


 

 

Lance couldn’t resist teasing Keith, just a little, over the next few days.

It was just so satisfying to make Keith stutter or blush, and it was also so ridiculously easy. All he had to do was wink, or even shoot him a cheeky grin, and Keith would barely be able to meet his gaze, cheeks flushing attractively. It felt good. It felt like he was winning their little war, and this new form of combat was a lot more fun and a lot less painful than what they used to do.  

And then a week later, Keith decided to fight back.

One evening when Lance was fresh out of the showers, there came an impatient knock at his door.

“Coming, hang on a sec!” he hollered, yanking on some boxers and slinging his towel around his shoulders so his hair wouldn’t drip down his torso.

The door slid open to revel Keith, who was pacing. His hair stuck up as if he’d been running his hands through it.

“Lance I-” Keith made a choked cut off sound and his face turned bright red.

Lance leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms with a shit-eating grin. Keith was pretty obviously checking him out. Before blasting off into space, Lance had been in good shape. He swam regularly, and he always did well in the Garrison fitness tests. Now, after months of paladin training and pushing his body to the limits, his was in phenomenal shape.

“Eyes up here samurai,” he teased. Keith did as he said.

“You told me to let you know if I change my mind,” he snapped, gaze hot.

Lance felt a little tendril of nervousness curl in his gut. He pushed it away. He wouldn’t lose his cool, that would mean Keith was winning.

“Is this you letting me know?” he intended to sound cocky, but his voice came out sounding hoarse. He swallowed.

“Yeah, it is,” said Keith, brushing past Lance’s shoulder to march into the room.

“By all means come on in,” said Lance sarcastically, turning around.

“Now, what are you propo-- oomph-”

As soon as the door had swished shut, Keith was on him.

Keith’s mouth was hot and slick against his, and it felt so so good.

Their last kiss had been colored by Keith’s shock, he’d reacted passively, allowing Lance to tentatively explore his mouth, and exploring Lance’s mouth tentatively in turn.

This time was different.

This time, Lance could taste Keith’s hunger. Hunger for him. It was intoxicating, it was addicting, and when Keith bit down on his bottom lip and sucked, an involuntary moan managed to worm its way out of his throat.

He felt Keith smirk against his mouth, obviously pleased with himself for making Lance lose control.

Lance couldn’t have that.

So he gripped Keith’s biceps and reversed their positions, pushing Keith up against the door. Keith didn’t even try to resist, if anything he went pliant in under Lance’s hands, allowing Lance to grip the hair brushing the nape of his neck and tilt his jaw back so Lance could trail wet open-mouth kisses down his neck…

Keith let out a breathy sigh and rested one hand on the pane of Lance’s bare chest, and the other at his side, brushing a thumb gently over Lance’s left hip bone, which had Lance's hips stuttering forward to grind into Keith involuntarily.

They both gasped at the friction, and Lance forgot to think. He forgot it was a competition, he only had room in his head left to feel; Keith’s soft hair tangled between his fingers, the smoothness of Keith’s cheek against Lance’s other palm, the hot press of Keith’s fingers into his pec, the dizzying nudge of Keith’s thumb against his hipbone, and the delicious friction of their pelvises being pressing together over and over...   

With an embarrassing groan he abandoned Keith’s neck in favor of his lips, and Keith’s hot mouth opened for him willingly, letting their tongues slide together enthusiastically.

Lance didn’t know how long they stayed like, pressed together against his door kissing and rocking into each other desperately, but it all came to a crashing halt when someone knocked at his door.

“Hey Lance, dinner’s bout to be served, you coming?” called Hunk.

Lance removed his hands from Keith’s hair and face and leaned his palms flat against the door on either side of Keith’s head, easing away. Keith’s hands twitched away from Lance, coming to rest limply at his sides. Even though they weren’t touching anymore, they were still close enough that Lance could feel the heat radiating off Keith’s body.

Wide violet eyes stared at him in frozen shock, and Lance was sure that the expression on his own face was probably similar.   

He had to clear his throat twice before he felt steady enough to reply.

“Sure meet you there, just changing,” shit, his voice still sounded absolutely wrecked.

There was a pause.

“You feeling okay? Your voice sounds funny…”

“Feeling peachy,” Lance squeaked.

“Alright, see you in a minute…”

They both breathed a sigh of relief as Hunk’s steady footsteps retreated.

“Well the coast is clear. I do actually have to get changed so…”

“Right I’ll go.”

Neither of them made a move to do anything.

“Lance? You’re kind of caging me in here…” muttered Keith, cheeks pink.

“Oh, whoops.”

Lance lowered his arms as if the door had burned him, scratching the back of his head.

Wow, this was awkward. 

Keith darted in suddenly and brushed a chaste peck against Lance’s cheek that for some reason made all the blood rush to Lance’s face.

When he saw this, Keith looked nothing short of delighted.

“See you later,” he said cheerfully, before letting himself out and disappearing from sight as the door swished closed. 

Lance fell forward and let his forehead thump against the closed door. The metal was still warm from when Keith had been pressed up against it.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed.

Although he hated to admit it, this round had definitely gone to Keith.

He’d have to up his game if he wanted to win.