Lance with a really high fever. Bonus points for: being confused and scared by a necessary treatment, getting carried or dragged, fainting, shaking/trembling, slowly becoming incoherent during a conversation.
I’m combining this one with @wonderingwhereileftreality‘s suggestion: “ (i’m a multishipper in a shance mood) Lance overworks himself trying to catch up with everyone else (Bonus points if he’s secretly wants the praise of a certain sexy Space Dad) and Shiro finds him and takes care of him because “I care about your you, Lance!"
I hope it’s okay!!!
It was movie night for the Paladins. Lance had instigated it, which is why Keith didn’t understand why he was being so moody now.
“You got to watch your film last week; it’s my turn to choose, so stop pouting,” Pidge chastised. Lance looked up blearily, as if his mind hadn’t been anywhere near the topic of movie night or Pidge’s (admittedly, gorier than anyone cared for) film tastes.
“What are you waiting for; press play,” Lance instructed softly. He seemed almost asleep. His head kept falling toward Hunk’s shoulder even through just the opening credits, and by the time the actual film had started, he was out cold in the yellow paladin’s lap.
“What’s with him?” Keith whispered to Hunk.
“Shh,” Pidge shushed. “This part’s important.” She seemed upset when she turned around to see that Lance had fallen asleep. “Hey,” she said, indignant, “I stayed awake through your crummy cowboy movie; you don’t get to doze off through my choice.” She kicked him lightly from her place on the ground, and he startled awake.
“S’goin’ on?” Lance asked blearily, blinking heavily.
“You fell asleep,” Shiro replied.
“Oh, sorry, Pidge,” Lance apologized sheepishly. She nodded and turned her attention back to the screen, but Shiro didn’t take his eyes away from Lance. The blue paladin rubbed his face tiredly and pulled his jacket tighter around his torso. Shiro himself was a little warm in the heat of the crowded common room, so he pulled off his hoodie and tossed it to Lance.
“You can borrow it,” he whispered, and Lance looked grateful.
The truth was, Lance was exhausted. He’d created Paladin Family Movie Night™ before things had gotten so real. Now that he spent most of his nights awake, worrying about comparing with the other paladins, worrying about what might happen if he couldn’t compare with the other paladins–well, he usually woke up in the middle of the night and found that he couldn’t fall back asleep unless he got up and trained. So he spent most nights sparring a punching bag instead of sleeping, and most of his sleep was spent thinking about how he should be sparring a punching bag.
It wasn’t Shiro’s fault. Not in the slightest; in fact, the opposite. No one had ever made Lance feel more important or worthy than Takeshi Shiro. And that’s why he had to do this for him. He would become the best he could be, for Shiro’s sake.
Lance dozed for most of the movie. He’d managed to keep his eyes more or less open through most of it, but his focus was bleary and warm. It came as a genuine shock when the film ended and the rest of the paladins sat, looking quite pale and queasy, and Pidge asking them excitedly what they thought of it.
“It was… graphic,” Shiro said. “Lots of blood.”
“It was Hershey’s syrup!” Pidge gushed, “but you can’t even tell because it’s black and white!”
“The plot was lacking,” Hunk offered, “but I liked that they didn’t kill the dog.”
“The special effects were awful,” Keith commented. Pidge’s face fell, realizing that they had not liked her film choices at all.
“What did you think, Lance?” Pidge asked.
Lance stirred and looked at Pidge, blinking confusedly with his teeth chattering. “Super good,” he sort of shot in the dark, having missed the whole thing. He guessed that was the right answer, because she looked excited.
“At least Lance knows quality films when he sees them,” she boasted.
“Next week, it’s my turn,” Shiro said uncertainly, “But I don’t know what to choose. I haven’t seen a lot of movies. Lance,” he called, trying to perk the sleepy paladin up and get him involved in what used to be his favorite part of the week, “What’s your favorite movie?”
Lance looked confused and muttered something under his breath.
“I didn’t quite catch that,” Shiro informed. Lance just shook his head and buried his face deeper into Hunk’s shoulder.
“M’too tired to watch another,” he moaned, “I’m sorry.” He sounded way more upset than he should be for just thinking about movie choices.
“Lance? Are you feeling okay?” Shiro asked. The boy’s teeth were still chattering despite wearing Shiro’s too-big hoodie, and he hadn’t taken his face out from the crack between Hunk’s arm and the back of the sofa.
Lance muttered something about being fine, tired.
“Something’s not right,” Shiro observed. “He’s been off all evening.”
Hunk pried Lance’s face away from the couch and tried to get him to sit upright, but Lance’s body was limp and hot. He dind’t want to cooperate.
Shiro took Lance’s face between his hands and was alarmed by the heat radiating from his skin. “Keith, find a thermometer,” he instructed, “he’s got a fever.” Lance stirred a bit to look at Shiro’s face.
“Don’t be mad,” Lance pleaded. Shiro’s heart broke.
“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked gently.Lance knew that he was only so ill now because he’d been running himself into the ground, but his fevered brain didn’t understand that Shiro wasn’t following.
“S’my fault,” he replied. “I ruined movie night, and m’not even a better fighter than I was before,” he muttered.
“What are you talking about, Lance?” Shiro asked desperately.
Keith returned with the thermometer. “Coran said you have to swipe it across his forehead,” Keith explained.
“Okay, Lance, I’m going to take your temperature,” Shiro said patiently. Lance flinched away from the thermometer as it approached his face, but Shiro had his flesh hand securely around Lance’s neck and it made him feel safer. The machine beeped and Shiro cursed.
“He’s got a fever of 104.2,” Shiro informed, “This isn’t something he can just rest off.”
“He sat through the whole movie like that?” Pidge asked. “And we didn’t notice?”
Shiro supported Lance’s back as he helped him sit up. “Hey, buddy; you’re sick. Did you know that?” It was entirely possible, he thought, that maybe the bug had struck so suddenly that Lance hadn’t even had time to register what happened.
“Yeah,” Lance admitted, “M’sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Shiro scolded.
“I’m not mad, just worried. I care about you,” he explained, “And I don’t want to see you sacrificing just because you think other people expect it.”
“We should get him to the med bay,” Shiro announced, and the rest of the group, quietly and guiltily, carried him there.