Chapter Text
When Lance called the Uber, he didn't check the details - didn't realize he'd be getting picked up in a sexy black fucking mustang .
Didn't realize his boxer briefs would get this wet just from the husky "Lance?" coming from the driver's seat when he opens the door. Or how intoxicating the fresh, heavy smell of campfire would be. It's...comfortable? Yeah. Comfortable. Cottage core. Nature-y.
And when he makes eye contact in the rearview mirror? He definitely didn't realize how hot his driver was. Smitten doesn't even come close to cutting it. Lance is straight up stupid with this dude's handsome.
"Yours truly," he responds through the distracting stare of those pretty dark eyes locking onto him, offering the most laid back, charming smile he can muster.
The driver - Keith, apparently, Lance discovers when he checks the dudes info on the app - isn't much of a talker. He simply nods in acknowledgement and lowers a tatted hand to rest on the stick shift.
Hot.
"Good to go?" That same husky voice - the one that makes Lance's insides flutter - asks before rolling out of the driveway.
"Mmmhm." He draws it out, clicking the seatbelt in place and returning to stare with a subconscious smirk at Keith's sexy, inked up hand: tracking it as it reaches forward to turn up the music, drowning out the crunch of the tires on pavement and the low rumble of the engine.
It's some grungy, British rock that Lance hasn’t heard before, but he’s kinda digging the sound. Has Keith's fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the rhythm, his rings clinking together as they do.
Hot hot hot.
And look, Lance is usually a talker, could charm the pants off anyone and their mother without even trying.
But this dude, Keith, he's got this whole unapproachable vibe, and the music is loud, and Lance can read a situation well enough to know that shrugging his unbuttoned flannel off his shoulders with a drawn out, sexy-if-you-want-it-to-be sigh is a much better play here.
It gets his skin exposed with the tank top he's wearing, gets Keith's dark eyes darting to him once in the rear view, then to the road, then lingering back on Lance when he hits a red light. Drinking him in. Sizing him up.
Lance just shoots him a smile that probably comes out as more of a smirk. Holds that eye contact while he bites his lip through his grin and then lazily turns his head to stare out the window.
The rest of the ride continues in silence, and even though it's taking every ounce of self control Lance possesses not to glance back at the hottie in the driver's seat, he keeps his gaze out the window. Fiddles with his keys as discreetly as he can, unhooking all the important ones for safe keeping in his pocket.
When Keith rolls the car to a stop outside the club, Lance lets his remaining, unimportant keys drop to the floor on his way out: one from his highschool locker, another for a lock that his landlord changed months ago, the others about as essential.
He hikes his shirt back on top of his shoulders and wishes Keith a goodnight just as Allura and Romelle are waving him over.
And then he waits.
-
'Hey dude, did I leave my keys in your car earlier tonight?'
Lance re-reads the text a couple times just to make sure he typed it correctly, finally pressing send with a buzzed, giddy smile.
"What's got you giggling?" Romelle shoves his shoulder teasingly while he returns his phone to his pocket. "Y'were talking some big game ‘bout how much dick you were gunna get tonight n' you've barely even looked at anyone."
"Changed my mind,” he shrugs casually with a matter-of-fact pout.
After a skeptical staredown, her eyes widen in realization along with her smile. “ Who is it ,” she demands, both hands steadying themselves on Lance’s shoulders in preparation for some major tea spilling.
"Remember that hot Uber driver I toldya bout?"
"Uh-huh."
"Left my keys in his car."
"Ohmygod," she giggles, but it’s judgy, teasing, accompanied by a friendly slap upside the back of his head. “You dummy, what if he’s like...what if-”
"Don’t worry," he laughs. "I took all the important ones off the chain first. M'not that desperate." Just as she pushes herself off him with an eye roll and a smile, he feels his phone buzz against his thigh.
'Yeah. In my back seat.'
Ohohoh, so he uses periods when he texts. Isn't that. Hot.
'Feel like making another 30 bucks? I need a ride home'
Lance bites his bottom lip through a smile, watching the three little bubbles bounce while Keith replies.
'Call it through the app. Be there in 15.'
It's blunt and to the point in a way that has him unsure if he should be turned on or offended, but his dick doesn't have time for the latter.
So horny it is.
"Well, it's been a pleasure watching the two of you get shitfaced," he handguns to Romelle and Allura who are practically hanging off each other on the dance floor. "Ya boy's got a catch to ride."
And with that he makes his exit, rides the confident high out of the club and into the passenger's seat of one very sexy mustang.
"Passengers aren't allowed up front."
Theeere’s that voice. Lethally hot and greeting him unenthusiastically. Except it's lacking disdain. It’s not really bothered.
Keith’s being cheeky.
And glaring at Lance with the faintest trace of a smile, one hand resting on the stick shift and the other draped limply over the steering wheel. And oh….
Oh .
Holy hell Lance didn't realize how hot this guy was until now.
He's hot hot. Pretty hot. Effortlessly hot and Lance can just tell he knows it, too. Knows it and doesn't even care.
"Uuh...heh," he's recalibrating, backtracking the convo and letting out a huff of a laugh at how floored he sounds. "You really gunna make me sit in the back seat where all I can hear is your music?"
Keith stares him down for a moment, analyzing like he's trying to get a read on him (as if the drooping shoulder of his flannel and some tastefully thirsty fuck-me eyes aren’t enough of a hint). And when he’s made whatever assessment he needs, he blinks slowly in a sort of acceptance while he reaches into the cupholder between them.
"Here's your keys."
Lance takes them with a small nod of thanks, swinging them lazily around his finger a couple times on their way to his pocket.
"And if you don't like my music, say sumthin’."
Excited butterflies dance in his stomach as Keith reaches one arm around the passenger's seat to back himself out. Lance can smell his cologne this close, can trail his gaze over the black and grey sleeve wrapping itself up his arm.
"I like your music. Just can’t hear anything over it."
Keith raises his eyebrows in consideration as he side-eyes Lance, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk before returning his attention to the car.
"And what exactly are you listening for?"
Lance shrugs, gaze wandering out the window in a performance of nonchalance. “Maybe how you ended up driving drunk college kids around in a Mustang?” All he gets in response is a huff of a laugh. “S’gotta be an interesting reason.”
“Not really.” Keith deadpans, facing forward again with a lingering smile. “Need the money, have insomnia, end of story.”
Lance narrows his eyes with skepticism, staring Keith down until he glances over at the lack of response.
“What?” He laughs. Actually laughs, lips spreading in a toothy grin that’s hands down the prettiest shit Lance has ever seen.
“Nuthin, nuthin.” Easing off with a smile of his own, he hooks his arms over the headrest of the seat and spreads his legs, getting sluttily comfortable. “You don’t exactly seem like the type to willingly spend your free time with strangers, though.”
It earns him another chuckle, punctuated with eye contact once the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “Well, you definitely seem like the type to willingly leave your keys in a stranger's car.”
Well.
Fuck.
Well, fuck him, then.
Lance’s eyes roll to the back of his head and squeeze shut in embarrassment. He can’t help the guilty smile working its way out of him, but his reaction has Keith laughing again, shaking his head a little while he puts the car into gear and continues driving.
“What gave it away?”
“Besides literally watching you drop them and ditch?”
His ears are burning, but he doesn’t even mind because Keith’s teasing, he’s flirting - and Lance can take a little embarrassment if it means he’s the reason for that pretty smile.
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? Got me back in your car, at least.”
“It did,” Keith admits. “Although I’ve never had someone sacrifice their keys for a sweet ride before.”
Lance sucks his bottom lip in thought, letting his teeth graze over it before finally conceding with an easy grin. “Yeeeaah, it wasn’t the car I wanted to ride.”
He can practically see it sink in - the moment it clicks and the doubletake Keith gives him before remembering that he needs to watch the road. It has Lance barking out a laugh at how animated it all is - at how animated Keith is, because for a split second he drops all pretense of seeming cool. Looks genuinely flustered until Lance’s laughter has him chuckling in spite of himself.
“ That makes more sense,” he nods to himself. “Sacrificing your keys for a ride is one thing, but sacrificing them for ass? Completely understandable.”
Fuck, and he’s funny too? He’s hot and sarcastic?
“Oh, please tell me I have a shot,” Lance giggles through an increasingly genuine outburst of laughter.
He’s never wanted to bounce on someone’s dick so bad.
Keith licks his lips through a smile, giving Lance a quick once-over like he’s pretending to make up his mind.
“Open the glove box,” he eventually orders, focusing back on the road while Lance does as he’s told.
He’s expecting condoms, maybe some lube, but what he’s met with instead is a sizable purple strap-on. After some quick mental dot-connecting, he holds it up between them with a playful smirk. “This for me, orrr…?”
He lets it trail off, chest giddy with excitement because if this means what he thinks it means then….
“It’s mine,” Keith chuckles, slowing the car down and parking it around the corner from Lance’s apartment, then turning to face him. “That cool?”
“Oh fuck yeah, it’s cool.” Lance’s grin grows wide, delightedly unashamed and already sitting up, because Keith is leaning in, and Lance is leaning in, and they’re meeting halfway, lips crashing into each other-
It’s an out of body experience, immediately electric and giddy as all fuck because holy shit it’s actually happening !
He’s - they’re - he’s actually sitting here, making out with the stupid-hot Uber driver he met earlier that night in a fucking Mustang .
It’s every slutty British drama show he’s ever watched come to life - but better .
Because Keith kisses good. He kisses deep and patient and classy. It’s far from the sloppy drunk fuck Lance was expecting when he agreed to hit the club with Romelle and Allura. This is fun, and private. This is Keith’s inked up, decked out fingers raising to smooth across Lance’s cheek and around to the back of his neck, tilting his chin up so he can lick into his mouth.
It keeps him frozen in place, strap in one hand, the other holding loosely to Keith's forearm, head empty and stupid because Keith’s tongue has him hypnotized. Stuck in a repetitive dance of slow, heavy swirling, sucking - moaning, soft and weak before he can even try to hold it in.
He’s putty in Keith’s hands, running his fingers through messy black hair as the lips smiling against his slowly trail down his neck, pressing tender, sweet kisses to his pulse point so softly it almost tickles. It leaves him wet and wanting more as Keith’s hand drops from the back of his neck down to his wrist and gently takes the strap from him.
For whatever reason, that's what breaks the spell he's under, has his eyes fluttering open and his now-free hand reaching into his pocket. When Keith looks up to see what he’s doing, Lance tosses his keys into the back seat with a smile.
“Think I dropped my keys back there,” he speaks lowly. “You wanna help me find ‘em?”
The look Keith gives him - the look this dude fucking gives him - biting his lip through a smile and shooting a flirty eyebrow flash as he leans in for another quick kiss, sealing the deal - fuck . Lance has to stop himself from squirming at the pleasant, horny pulse it shoots through his entire body.
Has to get himself together because Keith is pulling away, mischievous grin stuck on his face as he opens the door and steps out of the car. Leaving Lance blanking for a second and then scrambling to do the same.
By the time he gets his butt in the back seat, Keith is already leaning in with that same smirk, reaching past him to pull Lance’s door closed and crowd up on him.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, wrapping an arm around Lance's waist, sliding himself in until Lance gets with the program and straddles his thighs. It’s close, and hot, and has them resuming the makeout that stirs up butterflies in his stomach.
Except now it’s even more. Even heavier. Now Lance can roll his hips in slow, smooth waves down into Keith’s lap. Now Keith’s hands can explore his body, trailing down his sides and up the back of his neck where he seems to like keeping a hold on him. It’s loose and gentle but something about it, about the way Keith’s thumb grazes back and forth along his jawline a couple times…it’s intimate.
It’s got Lance’s hands framing Keith’s face while their tongues dance, keeping things slow and heavy - patient in a way Lance didn’t realize he liked.
Because when the hands holding him steady finally trail down to his ass and squeeze, pulling him in nice and tight for Keith to grind up on - it’s big. It’s a thing .
It sets them in motion for more.
For Lance to move on his own. To pick himself up and slide down to the floor between Keith’s knees, hands tugging lightly on the jeans at his calves. It’s an offer - there for the taking if he wants it.
It’s heated eye contact between where Lance’s cheek rests lightly against Keith’s thigh and where Keith licks his lips. A beat of decisive silence and then he's lifting up his hips and unbuckling his belt.
And Lance has no doubt that the triumphant way he sucks his bottom lip through a devilish little smile is thirsty as all hell, but fuck if that isn’t him right now. Fuck if he can’t contain it - ‘cause there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than leaning forward and kissing his way up the inside of one of Keith’s thighs.
Nothing he’d rather feel than those gentle fingers carding through his hair, and nothing he’d rather hear than the deep, husky sigh Keith makes as he slides further down the seat, and nothing he'd rather taste than the tangy slick clouding his senses as he dips his head in and licks through pretty, soft folds.
He has Keith melting into it like hot wax. Thighs spreading wider, lips parting slightly, one hand pulling Lance in closer by the back of his head while the other brushes the bangs from his eyes and holds the side of his face gently.
And Lance? Oh Lance is in heaven. Lance is in the astral fucking plane. He’s moaning, low and punched out from the back of his throat. Getting lost in the warm, sweet slick, nuzzling into it because fuck, how can he not ?
He's good at giving head, knows how to work his tongue and read his partner - but apparently Keith's pussy is the death of Lance's talent. Because he just - he'll get to work in a minute but right now - he just - he needs to play .
Knows it's probably not doing much for Keith, but fuck if making out with those sweet supple folds isn't scratching every sensory stimulation itch Lance has ever had.
And he'll get to work in a minute - he will.
In a minute.
Just one more kiss.
One more taste.
One more suck around that sloppy wet hole.
Ugh it's so warm , how is he even supposed to think when he's got a faceful of everything good in the world-
" Lance," Keith rasps above him, but it's not encouraging. It's chastising. Teasing a little.
Accompanied by the hands in his hair pulling him away with a bratty whine, face all slicked up and pouty puppy dog eyes as Keith chuckles down at him.
“Tongue out,” he orders, but it’s fond. It’s kind.
So Lance listens. Follows Keith's direction as he guides him with his hands and rolls his hips down. Swollen, heavy clit grinding against Lance's waiting tongue and stuttering a couple times to get that good friction going - but then he's easing off. Tilting Lances head up to look at him.
“Got it?”
Oh.
Ohohohoh fuck. Keith is giving him back the reins. Giving him a second shot - fuck yes he’s got it.
Can’t help the smirk that melts over his lips as he nods. Doesn’t want to help it when Keith returns the look, pulling him in again by the back of his neck with a heavy, satisfied “atta boy,” as Lance grazes the flat of his tongue up his clit and back down again.
This time he does his job.
Rolling, flicking, dragging his tongue through Keith's pussy with purpose now. Bouncing it on his dick in little, teasing pulses and watching to see how it fucks him up. How he keeps licking his lips and flexing his jaw, eyelids fluttering whenever Lance licks long, sloppy circles into him.
It's half the fun - watching Keith. Seeing him slowly lose his composure until he's pressing the back of his head into the seat with a whine, eyes squeezed shut and hips bouncing in tiny, encouraging stutters while Lance gets messy .
He eats him out with sloppy abandon until Keith is pulling him closer, starting to twitch - mouth dropping open when Lance wraps his lips around that juicy clit and sucks -
Fucking jackpot .
All at once, Keith locks up above him, choking on a drawn out, husky moan. His thighs flex like he’s trying to resist squeezing Lance’s face between them, but Lance wants it. Reaches around and pulls them together until they’re finally closing, trapping him face-first in Keith’s pussy to suck, and lick, and chase. Working to stay connected as Keith’s hips finally buck, rolling in heavy waves against Lance's face while the hands fisting in his hair keep him pressed as close as physically possible.
And it’s a shame that whatever no doubt gorgeous sound Keith makes gets muffled by the thighs trembling on either side of him, but it’s so worth it when he can feel the pulse against his tongue. Fluttering fast and adorable - and he just wants to kiss it. Just wants to spend the rest of the night doting on the sweetest pussy he's ever had the pleasure of tasting.
Unfortunately, that’s not in the cards for him, not when Keith’s hands suddenly switch from pulling him closer to pushing him away with an overstimulated whine. Not when his thighs are squeezing in front of Lance’s face, eyes pinched shut, mouth dropped open and jaw flexing in a hot, fucked-out groan.
He gives Keith a second to feel it and then noses his way back in, parting his thighs and pressing gentle, open mouthed kisses through his folds to soothe him down from his orgasm. And slowly, Keith relaxes into it, trembling muscles going slack, placid fingers carding through Lance's hair.
Lance could - and probably would - love on Keith until the sun came up if it weren’t for the hands in his hair pulling him away again. More gently this time and accompanied by a little chuckle at the stupid, hazy smile plastered to his face.
Tilting his head up to inspect, Keith spreads some of his own slick around with his thumb, guiding it into Lance’s mouth to be sucked clean.
“ You ...are a mess,” he laughs.
Lance pops off with a smile. “Good head always is."
“Hmm,” Keith's response is something between a laugh and a hum, but it’s unmistakably fond, an unhurried moment of appreciation before his eyebrows are raising in concession. “You’d certainly know.”
Oh, that pacified praise boosts Lance’s ego so deliciously. Makes him want to kiss his way back up Keith’s thighs and lick a couple more of those shaky moans out of him until his face is nice and drenched.
But Keith is pulling his hand back - away from where Lance has been absentmindedly sucking chaste little kisses into his fingers - so he can pat his own thigh.
“C’mere.” He beckons, but it’s quiet. Nearly whispered, and said so sweetly Lance wants nothing more than to please him. “Off the floor.”
Fully aware of the dark eyes tracking his movements, Lance crawls his way back on top of Keith. Straddles his bare thighs and settles his hands in his lap while Keith slides the flannel down his arms.
His movements are slow, savoring every inch of skin he uncovers until Lance is slipping his hands out of the shirt all together. Tossing it to the side and lifting the hem of his tank up to his mouth...holding it between his teeth...rolling his hips in a lazy grind….
Keith takes his time drinking it in, eyes pouring over Lance's body with hungry desire, hands trailing lightly up his sides, around to his ass, over his thighs. It’s leisurely in a way that makes Lance feel like he’s worth appreciating. Like he’s not the only one who still can’t believe he got this lucky this easily.
“You’re…” Keith starts, but he doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to with the way he’s practically fucking him with that gaze, fingers already working slowly at the button of Lance's shorts.
When he speaks again he's attentive, eyes snapping up to Lance’s face as he sits forward, leaning in closer.
“How do you want me?” It’s quiet, guiding Lance in by the back of his neck with one hand, sliding the other under his shorts to cup him through his boxer briefs. Sucking more of those sweet, gentle hickies into his pulse point - the ones that make him drop the shirt from his mouth so he can bare his neck a little more.
“Uuuuh,” Lance flounders, preoccupied by the pretty little buzz of pleasure he’s chasing, rocking his hips delicately into Keith’s palm. Short circuiting when Keith starts to suck slow kisses into his earlobe.
That has him moaning, drawing in heavy, shaky breaths because all he can hear is the stuffy sounds of Keith’s mouth but it’s hot - it's a delicious sensory overload that turns his brain fuzzy.
“You can have my mouth…”
Fuck- ohfuckohfuck that asphalt voice is right in his ear, breath hot on his neck and lips still loving on him between Keith’s words.
“Or my fingers...”
“ Hhhuh- ”
The hand down his pants is starting to coax him on now, meeting his stuttery grind halfway, and it has him clutching at Keith’s shirt, chasing the friction-
“Or you can take a ride on my strap like you wanted.”
“Nn fuck - that - I want that- ”
He can feel Keith’s lips curving into a smile against his neck, whines at the sudden loss of the hand down his shorts, but supposes it’s fine when the only reason it’s leaving is to grab something to fuck him with.
“Up.” Keith instructs with a pointed tap to Lance’s ass, suddenly eager and moving things along too quickly for the horny fog in his brain to keep up.
But at least he can follow orders.
Can sit himself up on his knees and work at getting his shorts and his underwear off. He can sit pretty and rub gentle circles into his junk while Keith straps himself in.
When he's all dicked up and ready to fuck, Keith reaches forward, fingers joining Lance's in his pussy. They feel their way nice and slow through his folds, down to his entrance. Swirling in gentle circles over it, testing the slick while Lance licks his lips through a shaky, steadying sigh. Then he’s pulling away, leaving Lance to chase after the touch with a stuttery buck. But when his eyes drop open, Keith is tasting his fingers.
And oh.
Oh.
That's hot, isn't it?
That's stroking Lance's ego, isn’t it?
That makes him feel sexy and special when Keith's eyes flutter closed, head tilting back and voice groaning low and drawn out like it's a delicacy.
Lance watches the way he sucks the pads of his first two fingers with undivided attention, like he doesn't want to let them go.
" Fuck , you taste good," he whines dramatically, eyes finally falling open and focusing on Lance's smile with a captivated, slack-jawed little pout. "C'mere and kiss me."
This time, Lance makes it sloppy. He makes it needy and impatient and wet, because the kiss tastes like pussy, like both of them melting together. Like the memory of Keith's warm, sweet, perfect cunt on his face.
It has him sitting up and kneeing closer, mouth working hungry and rough against Keith's, just like their bodies. Just like the way he blindly lines himself up and starts to sink onto Keith's cock. Just like the way Keith grabs his hips , pushing him down, bottoming out and punching his hips up into it.
"Mm fu-uck- " Lance gasps into the kiss, broken and surprised.
It’s everything all at once, shock and pain and pleasure shooting through his body, to the tips of his fingers, spiking his adrenaline-
And then it all slows back down. Then, Keith kisses at Lance’s bottom lip with a mumbled apology, snaking his arms around his waist in a hug and holding him close until Lance starts to crave it again.
Until he starts to rock his hips a little. Getting that friction going. Finding that tasty hum of pleasure and starting to chase it, sitting up and bracing his arms behind himself on Keith’s knees.
He warms himself up with quick, timid bunny humps, but soon he’s riding wantonly, taking as much as he wants, as fast as he wants - and Keith lets him. He holds onto Lance’s ass and bumps his hips up to give them that extra bounce while Lance loses himself in it.
And when his thighs start to tremble, Keith snakes both hands up his waist, over his chest, cupping his face until his eyes flutter open.
“You ready?” His voice is dripping with composure, calm and even and everything Lance’s isn’t.
Because Lance is far from composed. He’s riding high on Keith’s strap and letting his pleasure build up nice and reliable, but this - whatever he’s supposed to be ready for - comes out of left field.
“Whuh... hnn - ready for what?”
And if he wasn’t currently fucking himself dumb, he might roll his eyes at the little scoff of a laugh he’s met with, like it’s obvious what Keith’s talking about. But he is fucking himself dumb, so his eyes rolling to the back of his head is more about the sweet spot he’s hitting than Keith’s teasing.
“For me to fuck you, sweetheart.”
“ Hhhnn-” Oh his dick likes being Keith’s sweetheart. “What exactly do you call th- ohh... this?”
The smile Keith gives him is downright wicked.
“Watching a very sexy boy sit on my dick.” He’s dragging his thumb across Lance’s bottom lip. “Which I’m happy to do….” Staring intently where Lance licks it into his mouth. “But I’d be happier makin’ you scream.”
Now it’s Lance’s turn to scoff.
Keith may very well be the sexiest motherfucker he’s ever had, but-
“M’not a screamer.”
And look. Usually. Usually, having someone else tell him how he’s gunna cum is a surefire way to guarantee that he doesn’t cum at all. But for whatever reason, the laid-back, polite, “we’ll see,” Keith gives him has Lance’s pussy betraying him.
It’s not a promise. Not a challenge.
Just an offer.
An offer that leaves him clenching around Keith’s dick and trying to stifle the embarrassing, horny shiver wracking his body. To absolutely no avail, he might add, seeing how that only makes Keith chuckle to himself, which, if it hasn’t been made abundantly clear by now, is very very sexy.
“C’mon,” Keith prompts him gently, rolling his hips as an incentive - a sample of what he has to offer. “Let me use this thing.”
And it’s working all too well - the added movement doing wonders, the tender coaxing starting to convince him, and the pretty, entertained smile on Keith’s face as he watches Lance’s fortitude slowly crumble at a little temptation somehow making him even hungrier for it.
“Hh- god- yeah….okay,” Lance nods his head, drunk on the warm, heady pleasure Keith fucks into him. “More of that .”
A chuckle. That’s all he gets before his world is tilting.
Before one of Keith’s hands is wrapping around him, supporting his back while he leans forward and reaches for a lever that makes the front seat collapse. It has Lance clinging to Keith’s shoulders until he feels the back of the seat under him. Barely gives him time to register what’s happening before those hands return to his waist, holding him up so Keith can fuck him proper .
"Hhoh- holyshit- "
He snaps his hips sharp and accurate right away, right where it counts, right there, right there - fuck yes-
Pitching Lance’s body up with the force of it, fucking him boneless against the front seat where his arms slowly drop to his sides and his legs fall open, spreading wider because he can’t hold them up. Not when he’s got a tidal wave of sickly sweet bliss decimating him from the inside out.
It's heat spreading, pleasure pooling. It's everything he's ever needed - abusing his sweet spot and fucking him out of his mind where all he has to focus on is the heady orgasm bubbling up inside him - building, building building and then spilling. Overflowing .
Clenching around Keith's strap while his body stutters through it on held breath. Silence and then a long, broken, punched out-
" Ooh-ho-hohffuck-"
And okay. Okay . That was quick. Like. Faster than he’s ever cum in his life….but he didn't scream .
He rides it out until all he can do is catch his breath. Plans on shooting Keith a smug, bratty 'I told you so' smile but before he can get there, he's being manhandled again. Repositioned, turned around and hugged tight so his back is flush with Keith's chest, where Keith's mouth can suck on his ear again and put whatever Lance was about to say on pause.
"Wh- …. hhhnn …."
It's scary how easily that turns his brain to mush.
"M'not done with you yet, love."
God that voice . It's warm, raspy, liquid honey, sweet and fond and authoritatively kind - gentle in a way that makes Lance feel like he's running the show, even though Keith’s words are telling him the exact opposite.
Because he’s not demanding; he’s doting. Giving Lance exactly what he wants before he even knows he wants it.
All Lance has to do is sit back and enjoy himself.
So that’s what he does.
Sits back into Keith's arms and groans a tortured, amused whine into his neck in spite of himself, but he’s smiling through it - laughing through it - weak and blissed out.
"Alright," he mumbles, still breathless and nipping playfully at Keith's throat. "Show me what'chya got."
The hands around his stomach slowly trail south, fingers fanning out over the insides of his thighs and then squeezing the fat. They spread his legs a little wider, drawing a quiet, barely-there whine out of him as Keith’s voice replies, amused and husky, right in his ear-
“Yes sir. ”
But Lance is too turned on for some playful sexy banter. He’s busy scrambling to reach for the grab handle above the door because Keith is lifting him. He’s fucking lifting him like it’s nothing and doing the work to line his dick up so he can sit Lance down on it.
This time it’s gentle, but that doesn’t stop the moan escaping him as he goes slack in Keith’s arms, head lolling back to rest on his shoulder because he’s all sensitive and stimulated and this angle is heaven inside him. Keith doesn’t even have to move for Lance to feel the strap pressed up nice and snug against his soft spot.
And once he’s got Lance limp in his lap, Keith slides his hands around his hips, under his thighs, hooking his arms around Lance’s knees so he can fold him in half and hoist him up enough for his dick to start pumping.
“ Ohh my god-” If Lance thought he was in heaven before, he’s in fucking nirvana now - knew he would be as soon as Keith started moving but it still takes him by surprise.
It’s got him moaning out a slew of unintelligible praises as Keith babies him through it. Because it’s not hot and heavy right away like it was before - now he’s hitting a nice, comfortable pace that lets Lance savor the heavy drag of the strap along his walls. It leaves him with enough wherewithal to feel it, and enjoy it, and melt into it - into Keith - to be soothed through the pleasure.
“Yeah?” Keith answers his whines with a smile in his voice, nosing at the side of Lance’s face encouragingly. “That doin’ anything for ya?”
“Oh it’s doin’ so-hohh good for me-”
The hot chuckle in Lance’s ear sends pleasant little shivers down his spine.“That’s what I like to hear.” Fuuck. “Ready for more?”
“ Hmmmm ,” he hums a laugh into Keith’s hair, speaking slow and sultry and drunk on pleasure. “Do your worst.”
Lance doesn’t even have the fortitude to curse himself and his damn hubris once Keith complies - because he’s sinking his teeth into the meat where Lance’s neck meets his shoulder, and he’s boosting him up even higher off his lap with a grunt of effort, and he’s snapping his hips like his life fucking depends on it.
And Lance short circuits.
He freezes up, every muscle flexing, eyes squeezed shut and voice caught in his lungs while his mouth hangs open in a silent scream because holy fucking shit.
Whatever sorcery Keith’s hips are pulling is fucking every thought from Lance’s mind until he’s drowning in his own body. He feels everything, everywhere , but there’s nothing he could possibly do to manifest it.
So he’s stuck trembling, squirming in Keith’s arms, holding his breath until Keith noses at his neck, one of his hands straining to slap lightly against the inside of Lance’s thigh to get his attention.
“Hey,” his voice is ragged now, out of breath and labored. “Hey, talk to me.”
And by some miracle of the universe, Lance manages a struggling; “ff- c- can’t”
“Can’t what?” Wait wait wait, Keith’s hips are slowing down, now. “S’it too much?” Not hitting as hard, anymore. “Need to stop?”
Fuck no absolutely not-
Lance scrambles to claw at Keith’s shoulder with his free hand, head shaking insistently. “Nuh- no ‘can’ttalk - s - don’tstop -”
Without another word, Keith almost clumsily hurries to meet Lance’s demands, hips returning with newfound enthusiasm to fuck his brains out like they never stopped. Except this time, Lance remembers how to use his voice - not that it’s of much use for anything besides choking on fucked out sounds he’s never heard himself make before.
Because Keith is giving him dick like he’s never had before.
He’s fucking Lance numb except it’s not numb at all - it’s beyond numb - it’s ecstasy.
It’s out of body until suddenly he’s being tilted off kilter, hips on a diagonal for Keith’s dick to hit an entirely new, entirely sweet angle, because one of his hands has dropped to rub his fingers slow and deliberate over Lance’s dick, pressing down so he feels it and then chasing the high with quick, feather-light circles over and over and over-
“Fuh- ohhfuck-!”
And right when Lance thinks he’s gunna black out, he detonates instead. He throws his head back with a sound that doesn’t even register as his own voice, it’s shrill, broken, and high pitched. A gutteral yelp because he’s seeing explosions on the back of his eyelids.
He’s being rocked to his core by white hot adrenaline, held in place by Keith’s hands so he can fuck him through it nice and slow and heavy. Rolling his hips into every thrust so it’s as deep as it can be, as devastating as it can be while he pets Lance along until his thighs snap together with a loud, punched out moan.
It’s the most he’s ever felt , clings to his body like it’s never gunna let him go.
But slowly, surely, Lance’s bearings return one by one. Keith’s hot, sweaty body gasping underneath his...the arms wrapped around his torso, holding him tight…his own lungs fighting for air...the overstimulated pulse aching betweenhislegs -
“ Hhhnn- ” without warning, another tremor shoots through his body. Pussy clenching, body squirming as the aftershock works its way through him - a second (third?) orgasm in and of itself.
It’s only after he recovers that he notices the hot liquid trickling down his thighs, down his stomach - because that’s...not sweat. That's….
Fuck .
It takes his eyes a few seconds to adjust, but sure enough, when they do - covering his legs, and Keith’s legs, and the collapsed car seat in front of them….
“D...did I do that?”
Oh he sounds wrecked.
Keith huffs into the back of his neck, still struggling for breath but doing leagues better than Lance.
“Yes you did, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy with exhaustion but still carries that sweet, amused cadence that makes Lance's already weak legs tremble even more.
"I...I…" Lance struggles, still gasping for breath and trying to make sense of the fact that Keith….
Keith made him squirt .
"I've...never done that before…."
Unhurried beneath him, Keith starts to sit up straighter, carefully pulling his dick out of Lance and kissing his cheek at the sensitive whine he makes. Then, those tattooed arms are snaking around his waist again, hugging him into his chest. It’s comfortable, and cuddly, and intimate when he hooks his chin over Lance’s shoulder to inspect the mess between their legs with a calm smile.
“Hmm,” he sounds impressed. “Two firsts in one night.”
“What’s….” Lance trails off at the fingers dragging through the cum on his thigh, getting nice and slicked up and sending shivers down his spine. “What’s the other?”
Keith takes his time playing with Lance’s mess, getting wet and then raising his hand to his mouth so he can lick his fingers, suck them clean and pop off with a smugly matter of fact; “made you scream.”
Lance’s face scrunches up indignantly. “I didn't scream.”
“You absolutely did.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“ No, ” he sits up, only to stagger at the dizzy headrush and return to Keith’s shoulder - but not without shooting the guy a pointed look. “That was not a scream.”
Keith just smiles at him, far less sweet and far more entertained than Lance would’ve liked. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed.” As frustrating as his nonchalant teasing is, it turns Lance’s pussy into an even bigger puddle. “Just relax and enjoy havin’ your world rocked, baby.”
Keith can barely finish his sentence without laughing at the way Lance’s eyes roll. But Lance can barely finish rolling his eyes without his lips twitching into a smirk, so they’re at a standstill.
In any case, he takes Keith's advice and relaxes into his arms, head resting heavy against the seat behind them with a sated, lingering smile. He allows himself to fall into a comfortable, dreamlike haze at the languid hand dragging through his folds, spreading his slick around and soothing his hyper-sensitive pulse with slow, deliberate fingers.
And as Keith dotes on him with careful hands, Lance experiences a self aware moment of unbridled, real-time bliss, because he's got a sexy, funny, sweetheart of a dude that he barely even knows sucking soft kisses into his neck. Treating his pussy right and loving on him so sweetly like there's nothing in the world he'd rather be doing.
Lance just wanted a hookup when he dropped his keys in the back seat, but that was before it actually happened. Before Keith kissed him dizzy and fucked him dumb and made him feel safe, and sexy, and special.
Now he doesn't know what he wants except for Keith to keep touching him.
He knows he wants that, because when Keith starts to remove his hands from Lance's body, making like he's ready to wrap things up, Lance is pulling them back without thinking. Doesn't even get them where he wants before realizing what he's doing and releasing them lightning fast.
"Sorry," his hands fly to his chest, absolutely mortified.
But Keith doesn't seem put off by it. He watches with a confused pout as Lance starts to clamber his way out of his lap, muscles still threatening to give out on him at random but he needs to move. Needs to recover. “You can, uh - I’ll cover whatever it costs to clean the seats.”
“Lance.” Keith’s calm voice barely registers in his brain as he clumsily tries to get himself dressed.
“You’ve got like, paypal or venmo or sumthin, right?” He’s embarrassed and panicky for a reason he can’t even identify.
“Lance-”
“You can just text me whatever-”
“ Lance. ” Suddenly, Keith’s hand is on the back of his neck again, gently guiding his jaw until Lance is looking at him. “Slow down.”
It’s said with a smile so secure and unconcerned it stops him in his tracks. Puts an end to whatever anxious spiral he was about to have before it even begins. Has his eyes darting between Keith and anywhere but Keith because he may not be spiraling anymore but he’s still embarrassed.
“But,” he blubbers, at a loss. “What about the seats?”
A bubbly laugh responds before he’s being pulled into a kiss-
Oh.
Oh, yeah.
That’s something they can do.
Immediately, it has the tension leaving his shoulders. Has him melting into it and waiting a beat too long to flutter his eyes back open once it’s over.
“Don’t worry about the seats,” Keith whispers against his lips in far too sexy a fashion for the words coming out of his mouth.
Lance couldn’t stop his smile if he tried - and he does. But his lips are twitching into it all the same, amused with himself and with the situation - because wow, he really lost his cool for a sec, there.
But he’s better now.
He sits back in the seat beside Keith, rubbing his palms over his thighs a couple times to get the anxious jitters out and then continuing to get himself dressed. Much more coordinated this time around and hyper aware of the calm, observant smile watching him.
But Keith seems to notice Lance's reticence, only letting his gaze linger for a moment before relieving him of the scrutiny and starting to get himself together, as well. He fidgets with his strap until he can shimmy his hips out of it and then begins the search for his clothes.
“Could you pass me my- ah, thanks.” The smile they exchange as Lance hands him his pants is more than cursory. It's well-mannered, sure, but it's genuine, too. It lingers a second longer than it needs to and Lance gets that feeling again.
The panic in his chest when he realizes he's disappointed. Not disappointed with Keith - fuck, no - but disappointed that they're finished. He wants to go back to half an hour ago when he was tasting Keith's pussy for the first time. When they had the rest of the fun ahead of them.
They might be done fucking, but Lance isn't ready to be done with Keith.
"Here." He's snapped out of his thoughts at the jingle of keys held out in front of him where Keith offers them politely.
And in a quick moment that lasts an eternity, Lance eyes his keys, Keith's face, back to his keys. He's frozen with indecision until Keith's expression falters, barely noticeable but definitely confused as to why Lance is hesitating.
"Keep 'em." He finally pushes through with a hail Mary, swallowing his nerves enough to muster a flirty smile. "You can give 'em back next time."
Worst case scenario he gets rejected and never has to live it down. But Keith is smiling slowly as it dawns on him, closing his fingers around the keys for safe keeping.
"Don't you, like, need them?" He asks with a chuckle.
And Lance has embarrassed himself enough for one day, so rather than reveal the important keys he kept in his pocket he just gives Keith a nonchalant shrug.
"This is a much better use."
Because if he can leave tonight with even a fraction of his charm intact, he’s absolutely gunna try.
Keith leans in with this disbelieving, amused smile on his face. “You...are somethin’ else,” he mumbles as he pulls Lance in for one more kiss, pressing into it fervently. Snapping off only to dip back in for another, and another...and another ... .
Like he can’t bring himself to pull away.
It would threaten to heat things up again if Lance wasn’t fighting off an entertained smile, because it’s kind of adorable. It’s sweet in a way he wouldn’t expect from looking at Keith, especially when he starts smiling, too. Soon enough, any shred of sexy they managed to salvage quickly gets forgotten, because they’re laughing into each other's lips so candidly they’re forced to give up on kissing all together.
“I should get home,” Lance eventually mumbles through a lip-bitten grin. Not because he wants to leave, but because it’s a good note to end things on. And now that he knows this probably won’t be the last time he soaks Keith’s car seats, he’s gunna leave him wanting, just a little bit. Just enough to remind him of all the fun they had every time he looks at Lance’s keys. Just to at least try and ensure that Keith will be as thirsty as he is for more of it.
And if the way Keith hesitates and huffs out a laugh in spite of himself is any evidence to go by, Lance would say he’s successful in that endeavor.
“Lemme drive you up to your place.” After having his little moment, Keith opens the door, using Lance’s thigh to brace his hand while he gets out. He’s moving things along with a spring in his step that seems almost compensatory, like he’s ripping the proverbial band-aid off their backseat vibes.
So Lance follows suit with a laid back performance despite wanting nothing more than to pull Keith back in and kiss his stupid-cute nose because this guy really is way too adorable for the edgy impression he gives off.
Even when he’s pulling the car out and changing gears so confidently it shoots a pleasant little tremor through Lance’s body at the memory of those hands working him with the same confidence, Lance can see through the veil of composure. He can see the way Keith’s knee bounces up and down at the red light, and the way he licks his lips as he rolls the car to a stop outside Lance’s apartment.
Oh, he has no doubt Keith will be thinking about him even without his keys serving as a reminder.
“Alright,” he sighs matter of factly, putting the car in park and getting out.
Lance gathers his flannel in his arms as he watches Keith cross over to the passenger’s side door with a relaxed gait, running his thumb along his bottom lip and then reaching forward to open it.
“And they say chivalry is dead,” Lance smirks, taking the hand Keith offers him and letting himself be pulled up.
Keith just shrugs, using his hold to calmly draw Lance in closer with a cheeky smile as he sandwiches him into the side of the car. It’s got ditzy butterflies dancing in Lance’s stomach, because he didn’t realize until now that Keith is just the slightest bit taller than him, barely an inch but it feels significant this close.
“You just call me the next time you wanna take a ride,” Keith mumbles, hooking the index finger of his free hand through the belt loop of Lance’s shorts and tugging slightly - just to make the double entendre crystal clear.
Lance responds with a chuckle, snaking his hand up Keith’s torso and using it to push him backwards, but it’s gentle, playful, just to give him enough space to slip past.
“Will do,” he nips at Keith’s lips, patting his chest a couple times and pushing forward. When he gets to the lobby door he turns, smiling to himself at the way Keith is rubbing the back of his neck as he makes his way over to the driver’s side of the car.
Lance leans against the doorframe, and sure enough Keith glances in his direction, bracing himself against the open car door and giving Lance a short, simple wave goodbye - which he returns by snapping his free hand into a finger gun. The last thing he sees before continuing inside is the cute way Keith drops his head with a smile, shaking it to himself and getting in.
A couple days later, Lance receives a text. It’s a picture of the back seat of Keith’s car, spick and span and littered with cleaning supplies.
‘ Next time I’m fuckin u in a bed.’