Tickles

                                    

                                          
So quiznakingrobeast just sent me an ask on tumblr with the word "tickles" and I take it they meant it as a prompt, so here you go fam ;)
                          
WC: 1,429 (wouldya look at that large number lol)
                          
~💚🌱💙~
                          
"You never mentioned you weren't busy today!" Pidge yelled, bounding after Lance.
                          
"Well, I told you, I was planning on doing stuff... you know, just... chilling."
                          
"When you told me you had 'big plans' for the afternoon, lying down face-first on your pillow was not one of them."
                          
"I need a break, Pidge, come on!" 
                          
Pidge snorted. "Fine. Then since I'm already headed over to your house, what if we take a break together?"
                          
"What happened to your master plan of dragging me out of my room to work on that science project?"
                          
Pidge thought a minute. "I don't believe you would care enough to move even if I smacked you with something."
                          
Lance snorted, a smirk forming on his face. "Really? Think I'm that much of a couch potato, Pidgerino?"
                          
"I know you are, Lance McCouch, King of Couches. The couch is your humble abode, my good sir. Stocked full of cracker crumbs and bubble gum."
                          
Lance choked on his water as they crossed the street to his house. "Okay, first of all, there is not bubble gum in my couch."
                          
"But you do not deny the cracker crumbs?"
                          
Lance paused.
                          
"I do not deny the cracker crumbs."
                          
Pidge smacked Lance in the arm playfully as he opened the door for her. "Thought so."
                          
Pidge inhaled the warm smell of cinnamon as she stepped into the McClains' house. It wasn't very big, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in character. Pictures decorated the wall, some beautifully painted (probably by some of Lance's older family members) and others scribbled in various, mis-matched crayon colors. Definitely the work of a budding young artist. 
                          
Her fingers traced the carving on the side of the antique table she'd always loved that sat between the living room and the foyer, accentuating the low, terraced ceiling and the bright wall fixtures. 
                          
Lance kicked off his boots against a dirt-stained wall and struggled out of his jacket before looping it over his arm. He took a deep breath before yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'M HOME MAMA!" 
                          
Pidge winced, but took off her shoes and set them by Lance's, chuckling at his antics. There was a slam and then the sound of footsteps, and then two young kids came barreling down the stairs. 
                          
"Uncle Lance!" They yelled in unison, hugging him tightly around the legs. 
                          
He laughed, ruffling their hair as they strangled him with hugs before running to go play outside. 
                          
Lance's mother followed gracefully after them, her arms loaded with a basket of laundry and a dish towel over her shoulder. Pidge had offered her some help on a few occasions, but she had quickly denied it; she never minded taking care of her large family, so Pidge let her be. She definitely didn't want to receive a good smack with a shoe like Lance always mentioned. 
                          
"Mrs. McClain!" She greeted, hugging the woman tightly after relieving her of the basket. She gave a warm squeeze in return, then held Pidge back to look at her, warm brown eyes crinkling, tanned skin the same shade as Lance's framed in dark brown hair.