#kinlance

This is a BIG BOY STRETCH but what if Lance’s endgame is Kinkade or something.

IK IK, ITS V DUMB BUT

Imagine how fucking plot-twisty that would be.

Out of the entire Garrison team, Kinkade is the last person Lance expected to see arms crossed, leaning his weight against the doorway entrance to the room the Garrison had provided. Considering the past several days of fighting off an entire alien invasion, a friend waiting for him shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, shouldn’t alert his senses that something’s different.  

Still, Lance can’t help if his stomach flips at the sight of him.

“Kinkade, buddy, my man,” Lance greets, nudging the other gently in the side despite the pull in his arm utterly against the motion. He tilts his head, beckoning the other to come inside instead of awkwardly in the hall. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Would’ve thought you and your team would be taking a much needed vacay right about now.”

Kinkade huffs out an almost-laugh. It’s more of an amused exhale from his nose, but it’s a start. “If the paladins of Voltron aren’t getting a vacation, our little team is far from it.” He stills in the middle of the room, eyes glancing from wall to wall despite the fact they’re bare. If he’s looking for something, he won’t find it here. “So this is where you’re staying?”

“Garrison issued room, yup. My family gets the rest of the rooms in the hall. We all wanted to stick together, y’know?” Lance situates himself on his bed. It reminds him of when he was a cadet in these same halls, which feels like a lifetime ago. “Although I have a feeling you didn’t come here to hear about my living situation.”

“Smart and perceptive. A double threat,” says Kinkade, “I came here to ask for a favor.”

Heat flushes through Lance’s, burning, and it takes him an embarrassing couple of seconds to recover from the praise to remind himself he actually has to answer Kinkade’s question.

“Uh, yeah! Sure, I can help with whatever you need,” Lance answers, brow quirking curiously. “What exactly do you need?”

“You’re one of the best snipers I’ve ever seen. Not just from the Garrison, but in general. Period.” Out of everything he expected Kinkade to say, that was not one of them. Lance opens his mouth, to thank him or to protest, unsure of what exactly he’d say to that, Kinkade cuts him off, “No, I’m serious. I’ve never seen anyone with your kind of skill and talent, and I was hoping you’d teach me everything you know. It’d mean a lot to me if you would.”

For a moment, Lance is left blinking blankly at the other. The words are stuck to his throat, mouth dry, and not for the first time in this very short meeting with the other, he’s left feeling utterly flustered at a simple compliment.

It’s true what everyone says: Lance is weak for a pretty boy who so much looks at his general direction.

Although can anyone really blame him when Kinkade’s dark, piercing eyes are looking at him instead of through him?

“Not that I wouldn’t love to hand over a few tricks I’ve picked up here and there, I’m just here wondering… Why do you need to know?” Lance sits up a little straighter, despite the ache in his ribs screaming against it. “I mean, we won, right? Wouldn’t you be trying to find your family now?”

“We won against the Galra, but the drones and patrols are still out there. We still have to liberate Galra camps. If I’m going to look for my family, we gotta be prepared to deal with those too,” Kinkade answers. “And I know you found your family, so I wouldn’t expect you to help now that you have, but if you could teach me, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Lance doesn’t even hesitate.

“I can do you one better,” Lance says, “I can teach you everything I know and I’ll help you and your team with liberating the earth as soon as I’m patched up.”

Kinkade’s eyes widen. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Lance insists, sharply, and is the one to stop Kinkade in his tracks this time. “As soon as I’m in tip-top shape, better be prepared to sign me up, Kinkade.”

“It’s Ryan,” he says. “Kinkade’s my last name. My friends call me Ryan.”

“Nolan Kinkade,” Lance repeats, testing the name out on his tongue. “I like it.”

Nolan gives another huff of a laugh, one that could’ve been a full-fledged thing a few years ago. It brightens his face, makes him appear younger and with less worry, and Lance is itching to see what a real smile on his face would look like.

Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to wait too long.

“Don’t let the other paladins know,” Nolan says as he walks backwards out of Lance’s room, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. It’s mesmerizing. “But you’re my favorite.”

Then he’s gone, the doors sliding behind him and leaving Lance sat upon his bed, face on fire and heart pounding after a boy with one of the most beautiful smiles he’s ever seen.