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"Pinned ya," Keith said, teeth sharp and smile sharper.

James let out a small whuffle of acknowledgement, the only noise he could really get out with Keith's forearm pressed so firmly over his windpipe. It was a little more than a pin, and he didn't have to b(more)
Shiro sighed as he closed the front door firmly behind him and Lance didn't even look in his direction. "You," he said, passing the couch and heading for the kitchen, his fist full of plastic bags, "need a /job./"

"Uhn?" Lance cocked his head slightly. He was drape(more)
When Lance surfaced the second time, it was with brown hair and a terrified expression that James had never seen before. His heart was beating too hard and fast for him to be rational about this, and Lance was out of reach in the water; if he leaned too(more)
Lance woke in the middle of the night, too-hot and crowded to the edge of the mattress. He shifted slightly, searching for cooler patches under the covers with his feet and curled his hand against the coarse thick fur he was pressed against.
Shiro was doing dishes in the sink when Lance flounced in fresh from the shower, leaving small puddles of water wherever he stepped. Shiro raised an eyebrow - Lance /was/ wearing a towel, but only on his head, his damp brown skin shimmering in the overhead light.
"C'mon," Lance said, head tilted back against the bathroom door as he turned the maintenance lock, the metal giving a solid, satisfying click. Shiro leaned in, forearm pressed against the door beside Lance's head, brows drawn together as he furiously, silently reminded himself where he was and what he(more)
It's different, this year.

There's a trio of school girls sitting on the old weathered bench, the two on the ends both leaning into the one in the middle, all three with their attention locked on the cell phone. They're taking a selfie, in the cool fall twilight,  waiting(more)
"I am NOT-" Lance hissed, his voice echoing despite his low tone, and he dropped it further as Shiro shut the door behind him, enclosing them both in the cramped space, "sharing a room with them, Shiro!"

"Would you rather sleep outside?" Shiro was unamused;  he was running o(more)
Allura's skin had gone ashen in the flickering, reflected light of the old television. Keith had left the set on for background noise before he'd closed the door to the motel room behind him; it remained on the channel he'd set it on, replaying some ancient budget horror movie(more)
"Be good," Shiro had said firmly, the motel door clicking closed behind him. He hadn't addressed the directive to either of them in particular, but his words still hung in the air for a few moments before Keith let out a small scoffing noise and shifted his weight, glaring(more)
As Gotou unlocked the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of a mad scramble coming from inside the apartment. He rolled his eyes and didn't rush heeling off his work shoes in the genkan and setting them beside Masayoshi's sneakers; there weren't exactly a lot of places for Masayoshi(more)
Shiro hesitated in the threshold of the cabin, a bag of ice under his arm. Lance lay mostly starfished out on the floor, one leg still hanging on the couch, arms thrown above his head. He lolled his head to assess the the threat, and seeing Shiro, let out(more)
Gotou leaned his shoulder against the door frame, watching the gentle rain of a mid-October evening. He could hear Masayoshi fussing, the rustle of papers jammed between rental DVDs louder than he realized, and smiled to himself.
He'd taken the hit as they escaped into the thick alien jungle; hesitating too long on a shot when the plasma bolt scored a line of fire across his face and caused him to stumble backward, falling into darkness.

A blur of impressions followed, a mixture of being(more)
Keith walked into the galley to see Lance and Pidge huddled around the island in the center, staring at something with a burning intensity. Lance had his arms folded and had all his attention on whatever it was they were staring at, so Keith shrugged and walked over, draping(more)