live slow

Keith grabbed Lance in the corridor from the Lions to the Castle and slammed him against the wall. He was hot and tired and extraordinarily pissed off. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Lance laughed and pulled his helmet off and unzipped the top of his uniform. Sweat streaked his hair and when he smiled, his eyes crinkled. "Being a hero." Lance pushed Keith away and stretched. He winked at Keith and patted his cheek and started off down the corridor. "You should try it some time."

"Don't walk away from me, Lance. We're not done here." Keith grabbed Lance's arm and pushed him against the wall again. He moved to block Lance in, moved in on Lance's personal space. "Now, seriously. What the fuck do you think you're doing? Why the hell did you ignore my orders?"

"Keith. Relax. We beat the robeast, didn't we?"

"Yeah, no thanks to you." Keith poked Lance in the chest. "Somebody could have been seriously injured because you were off in your own little world, doing your own little thing. Or worse. You could have died. Do you get that?"

"Yeah well. Live fast, die young. That's the way to go, right?" Lance shrugged, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. He looked down, away from Keith. "I mean, that's why we're here, right? Because we're young and stupid. We volunteered for this gig, after all."

"We're not here to die." Keith pressed in closer, his breath hot against Lance's face. "I want to be able to go home. I'm not here to watch you die, Lance." He kissed Lance, sharp and fierce and slow and wanting. He pulled back, a little, stroked Lance's face. "Try living slow and dying old for a little while, okay?"