I Want: Lance

by Forest


Mmmph…
Not my bed.
Not a bed… floor?
I force one reluctant eye partially open. Floor. Maps. Your room.

Shit.

God I hope I didn't drool on any of your maps.

Hoping you don't notice, I raise a hand to my lips. Dry. Good. I open the other eye and sit up, prepared to catch you with an apologetic grin, but you're not sitting in front of the computer anymore. A quick glance around is enough to tell me you've left the room, and I don't hear any noise from the bathroom so I'm guessing you're not there either.

Hey, isn't it Allura who's supposed to go running off in the middle of the night?

Ah, Lance, you're a funny, funny guy. Thank you, self, I know.

I need more sleep.

Hm. What to do about that though. I get the feeling that if I just went back to my room and called it a night, you'd consider that in some way irresponsible. Not sure why, but you usually seem to consider my first (and of course best) instincts irresponsible, no reason why this one would be an exception. And I'm not resuming my nap on your floor. Damned uncomfortable, and I think I have a carpet print on my cheek. Guess I'll stay awake.

So where the hell did you go? If you left so I could get some rest, why didn't you wake me enough to put me somewhere more comfortable? I hate sleeping on floors. Gives me weird dreams. Like just now, I was in this sea of stars, and there were hands caressing me, but it wasn't sexual or anything. It was… ah, shit. Doesn't matter. There's a word in my head, but damned if I'm going to let it form the rest of the way. Anyway, then the hands were gone, and it was like I went into a tailspin, and the space, that had just been so comfortable, suddenly became too huge and... terrifying... Here's the weird part though: the hands? They were yours.

Funny, huh? Well no, I guess you wouldn't laugh at that. You wouldn't get the joke.

Ah hell. This much thought isn't good for me when I've just woken up.

I go into your meticulous bathroom and borrow some mouthwash. I hate waking up. My brain gets all… like this. Gods this bathroom is orderly. Not a surprise, of course. Everything about you is. I cringe guiltily just thinking it, knowing how much you hate it when I say things like that out loud. Maybe we've both already made up our minds about each other. Too much, maybe.

You are orderly though. As I splash some cool water over my face and scrub at the imprint of your carpet on my cheek, I wonder what it would take to put you in disarray… Oops. Bad thought, Lance. Meeting my own smirk in the mirror, I let my mind go just a little further before pulling it back. Not that I'll ever have the chance to see you in such a state. Pity. The worse part is that the person most likely to be gifted with that sight is Allura, who just seems to me to be wholly unqualified to truly appreciate it.

The two of you really piss me off. The Princess and her Knight in shining fucking armor. Didn't anyone ever bother to tell either of you that that isn't how the world really works? It's not supposed to be that way. It shouldn't be so easy, and it damn well shouldn't be so polite. Courtship. What the hell is that? You shouldn't be in a courtship. You should be challenged, fought with, seduced. Not for you those pale, chaste kisses on the cheek. If Allura was even half worthy of you, she'd dig her fingers into that long, thick black hair of yours and pull you into a real kiss; the kind that bruises your lips, the kind that involves tongues and teeth, impolite noises and the sudden inability to breathe.

If I was even half worthy of you, I'd do the same.

Shit.

You've been gone this long, wonder if I have time for a quick, cold shower? I could always just say I needed it to wake up.

So, yeah, I want to kiss you. I want to do a lot more than that. No need to worry though, contrary to popular opinion, I do have some self-control. Quite a bit actually, since I've been giving it such regular exercise over the past few years. I don't know why I don't just kiss you, let you punch my lights out, and get the whole thing out of the way. Very unlike me, really.

Probably for the same reason I'm putting my naked body under this FREEZING water instead of into your bed.

Yep, that idea crossed my mind too. What would you do if you came back to the room expecting me to be passed out on your floor and instead found me naked and waiting? These thoughts occur to me quite a bit and I don't act on any of them. See? I have self-control. That and I don't think I could handle the inevitable rejection from you. Rejection, I can handle. But not from you.

Truth is, I don't know what you'd do. This is one part of you that I just don't know at all. I watch you with Allura, and I guess I could believe you love her, but I'd hate to think that's all there is. You seem so... unfeeling, sort of distant and numb, I can't believe that's how you are in love.

I've seen you when you want something. I've seen you in weird moments when I really wish I knew what you were thinking `cuz your eyes just suddenly get this intensity that could swallow me whole. I've seen you in combat. I've seen you angry. So guess what, I'm onto you. You can be as orderly as you want, you can't fool me. I've seen it. You're the most passionate person I've ever met.

I think that's why I love you.

Whoa! No, that's not what I meant. Not what I said either, dammit. I think this water is freezing my brain. I turn off the flow and knock my forehead against the cool, slick tiles of your shower. I don't love you. I don't.

Shit.


Comments are always appreciated

Back to the I Want Index