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The sun was shining brightly upon the quad of the University of Altea, as Lance ran through the weaving paths of desire, made by many other college students of the past who were also running late to class. Lance held tight to his shoulder strap with one hand, and held his everything bagel in the other.
I’m gonna be beyond in trouble with Iverson.
It’s all Pidge’s fault anyway. She’s the one who kept saying “one more game” , and then repeating the phrase with each win. He supposes his ears are permanently damaged with her loud and explicit complaints when he cut himself off at 1:30.
“Don’t be a dweeb! Don’t forget I can hack into your facebook and your mother’s too!”
Lance was also gonna blame her for him missing the change in the ground he misses, as he collides with the ground, bagel lost to an anthill a foot away. Lance’s bag thuds down next to him, and he picks up his hands to inspect the now ruined skin that was donated from his palm to the concrete.
“8 out of 10.”
Lance perks up, hissing as he uses his bloodied hand to help himself up and look over to his voyeur. “Excuse me?”
There’s a boy sitting there on a bench across the paved path, on the other side of it. He’s sipping his coffee and eating a breakfast sandwich at leisure. “Well it’s good your face isn’t fucked up.” He takes another bite. “But you lost a point for it.”
Lance scoffs and stands, brushing his knees off with the back of his hands.
These are gonna be SO bruised…
The man doesn’t offer to help him, and relaxes further into the bench. His dark hair falls in a shaggy way around his head and neck, like he did his own hair with a mirror and kitchen scissors. He’s fit, with broad shoulders, covered by a black leather jacket over a black shirt with a red logo, and some sort of car printed across the front of it. His outfit would be normal, if it wasn’t for the leather gloves that hold the remainder of his food he eats recklessly, jaw moving in every direction as it chews. Like a caricature of a boy raised by wolves, or some other wild creature, he looks intimidating, but his eyes hold Lance’s as he continues to munch away wildly. It’s like staring at an animal as it devours a corpse.
If he’s kinda hot, Lance decides to put that information away for a later date.
Lance picks up his bag and fixes the strap back on his shoulder, which hunches inwards as he looks at the other. “Sorry I didn’t smash my face in , entertaining your breakfast with a show.”
The other man rolls his eyes and pops the rest of his food in his mouth, taking a second to lick his fingers before wiping them with the napkins inside the takeout bag next to him. “You’re probably just upset because you lost your breakfast to some ants–”
“You think?”
“Running to a class you won’t be able to get into.”
Lance bristles and takes a step closer. “What do you even mean?”
The boy crumples his trash together in his hand and tosses it at the bin next to him, where it goes in and down, not even missing the small opening of the receptacle. “You’re running late for Iverson’s class right? You sit a row or two ahead of me, always put up your hand? Well thing is, Iverson locks the door to class two minutes before it starts. If you’re late, you missed it.”
Lance takes a second to breathe in deep, tries to let it settle the uneasy feeling inside him knowing he’s skipping class, and will have to skip the rest of it too. “Okay great! I love knowing that me almost eating concrete was worth nothing in the end.” He laughs and kicks a small stone at his feet into the grass. “This is a great way to start my week.”
Keith looks at him for a second, thick eyebrows coming together, before he sighs and stands up, grabbing his own bag.
Lance raises his own eyebrow as they meet face to face, Keith tall enough to make Lance have to look up at the other. “What?”
“I don’t have another class until one. If you want something to eat, on the house, I’m only offering one time.”
Lance squints at him, trying to size up the other. “For real?”
“I’m only offering once.”
“Thanks,” Lance says, “I appreciate it.”
Keith grunts and moves past him, motioning for Lance to follow. “Coming?”
Lance takes a second to look at him, dark eyes, and dark hair, gently moved by the wind as the trees shake, and golden leaves pass through the image.
“I didn’t catch your name, I’m Lance.”
“Keith.”
…
October came quickly and cold. The trees traded green for cadmium shades of yellow and red, before stripping themselves bare. The only similarity with college students was the pile of jackets set aside on booth benches inside the small diner.
Keith reached his 21st, and they all decided to go have dinner together at the small diner. They would have consummated the date with alcohol but knew there would be plenty of parties coming around the weekend, and their alcohol would be free .
Keith’s small act of kindness a year ago combined the two’s friend groups.
Lance brought with him Hunk and Pidge. Hunk is Lance’s best friend from their days in the sandbox. They went through a lot together, and Lance wouldn’t trade him for the world, or do anything short of murder for him. They knew Pidge since high school, she’s a year younger, and finally in the college scene with them. Lance is more scared of getting murdered by her, knowing she could well enough do it all her own.
Keith’s older brother is studying for his master’s degree, and owns an apartment that they’ll all hang out at sometimes off campus with his boyfriend Adam. And somehow through it all, Shiro also dragged in Allura, who has been his friend since their under-grad days.
The seven of them more than filled in the back booth of the small-town diner. So here Lance is, squished in beside Keith with everyone’s coat in his lap.
That way they don’t have to question me about why I’m not getting anything to eat.
College is hard for Lance these days. He finally told his parents on summer break what he had known in his heart since middle school. Lance loves his parents, and he would never bring it up, but he knows that's why his piggy bank was running dry these days. Whenever he calls his mom, she always mentions how hard times are financially for her and his dad back in Miami at the moment. They’re struggling to make ends meet, but seem to have enough to give Rachel help with her college expenses.
It’s fine … or at least it will be.
If I don’t burn out from working 30 hours a week on top of taking six classes this semester…
So Lance hugs the jackets closer to him on his lap and pushes his menu into the center. Everyone is too busy chatting to notice him anyways.
“What are you getting?”
Or so he thought…
Lance looks next to him at Keith, who is pressed against his side, shoulders, hips, and legs. Pidge had strapped one of those stupid, little, cone-shaped birthday hats on him, and Lance pulls it out of his hair so it doesn’t poke out anyone’s eye, setting it down on the table next to Keith’s menu.
“Oh, I’m not getting anything. I already ate before we came.” Lance says quietly enough for no one to catch up on his words, or the lie they are.
And Keith is one of those people smart enough to see through it, as he smirks and raises an eyebrow. “You ate before this when you were at work?” he crosses his arms for good measure. “The same place of business where you aren’t allowed to eat on the clock, and you’ve been there since your morning class ended at 10:30 this morning?”
Keith turns his wrist out to look at, making sure Lance can see it too, the numbers lit up in green that tell the viewer that it is now almost 8:15.
Lance flexes his hands in the coats that cover him, trying to let them bring him heat and comfort. “My paycheque doesn’t go in until next Wednesday.”
He can’t look at Keith’s face, shame burning hot across his own. He just wants Keith to have a good birthday, he shouldn’t be worrying about Lance.
They’re silent for a minute before the voice of the waitress picks up in Lance’s ears, and he listens to everyone's order like they're underwater.
Keith leans forward into their shared spot on the table, knocking into Lance as he settles his elbows on the tabletop.
“Let me get a cheeseburger and fries, medium done with a coke,” Keith pauses for a second, kicking at Lance’s foot under the table to get his attention. “And then another coke, with garlic knots and fries on the side.”
The girl smiles sweetly at him. “No problem!” She turns to Hunk on the other side of the table, squished into that side of the booth’s corner, like Lance. “And for you?”
Lance distantly listens to Hunk sputter over his words talking to their waitress, who’s name tag reads Shay , and the rest of the table’s orders.
He then turns to glare at Keith, “Hey birthday boy, what was that? I thought you hate their garlic knots?”
Keith leans back from the table, and Lance is overwhelmed with his cologne, tobacco and vanilla, as he moves back into Lance’s space. “I do.”
“Then why did you order them?”
“They’re yours. So is the extra coke and extra fries.”
“But–”
“Lance.”
He stops his retort and looks up at Keith, who has a gentle look on his face.
“Don’t worry about it. I can spare a few dollars to make sure you don’t go any skinnier than we already tease you for.”
Lance almost yelled back at him, for the jab, but Pidge beat him to it, reaching across the table and smacking Keith across the head, yelling something about him not wearing his birthday hat.
Keith refused to give Lance his venmo the Wednesday after.
…
Rain was soft against the pavement outside, petrichor filling Lance’s dorm. But still, Lance sat wrapped up in his robe staring out the window to watch it fall. He watched each droplet hit the glass and slunk its way down until falling off the side, dropping again past the screen part of the opened window, wetting the pavement.
Lance’s glad he put his bed right next to the window. The cool air felt good as it came into his lungs, doing as much as it could in clearing up his sinuses. Any normal day, Lance would have the window shut tight, keeping the warm air inside the dorm.
But Hunk was going to be sleeping over at his new girlfriend, Shay’s place tonight. Which meant Lance could indulge in keeping the window open and the dorm room cool, even though he knew that it was only going to make him sicker.
And Lance couldn’t afford to miss another day of work .
It was bad enough he was already missing out on all the fun, everyone else was at a frat party, but Lance knew he would be stopped at the door with his red face, and tired eyes. And that was without him opening his mouth, and letting them hear his voice, which was now faint and scratchy, a joke compared to what it usually is.
His phone started going off, and Lance groans before picking it up and bringing it over, and answering it, not bothering to check the caller ID on it. “What, did you leave your overnight bag here? I doubt you’ll need it Hunk–”
“God Lance, is that really what you sound like right now?”
That’s not Hunk…
“Keith? Why are you calling me? You should be getting mono right now–”
Keith’s laugh cuts Lance off. “ Give me the code to your building, yeah?”
Lance moves to check over his room, moving dirtied tissues from his nightstand to his wastebasket, and slipping his blue lion slippers on. “It’s 48-29-04, are you coming to see me right now? You know my room is currently housing patient zero, right?”
“ You have a cold Lance, not malaria, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” There’s the sound of movement on the other side, as he adjusts his phone. “ I put on a mask earlier anyways, Shiro gave it to me and started saying how they do it back in Japan when someone is sick, starting doing his Shiro lecture .”
Lance sprayed down the surfaces in his room with disinfectant, “Ah yes, a Shiro lecture, I haven’t gotten one of those in a while–”
“ I’m sure you’ll get one soon enough. Let me in?”
Lance opened the door, and when he spoke, the sound doubled through their phones, “You know you can be an ass sometimes right?”
Keith rolled his eyes and moved into the dorm, putting a paper bag and a plastic one down on Lance’s desk before closing the door, turning off their phone call. “I’ve been told by enough people it’s gotta be at least half true by this point.”
Keith flips on Hunk’s desk lamp, moving towards the window. “Why the fuck do you have the window open?”
Lance huffed and flopped down into his bed, so his words were muffled by the mattress. “It’s raining outside. I like when it rains, it reminds me of Cuba and Miami.”
Keith shut the window and started rifling through his bags. “Did you take any meds yet?”
Lance sat up and looked over at Keith. “I’m due another dose right now but I ran out of– Hey!”
Keith threw a new box of Theraflu at him, and smirks from his stance near the table. “Are you hungry?”
“Are you gonna throw food at me too if I say yes?”
Keith drops the paper bag onto his lap, before sitting on Hunk’s bed across the room.
Lance moved to open the bag, and wanted to cry seeing what was in it, in one of those plastic containers with a plastic spoon next to it, the item giving off heat in his hands.
Keith layed back on the bed, flipping through his phone. “I asked for no meat so you should be fine.”
It’s just lentil soup, but it means so much more than that because of Lance feeling sick, craving something warm and comforting.
“Well are you gonna eat it? If not, you can put it in the fridge for later, but you need to eat when taking medicine.”
Lance let out a breath, forcing the tears to stay inside his eyes, knowing if they come down his cheek he’ll be inconsolable, a complete mess. “Thank you, Keith.”
He looks up from his phone, back at Lance. “Don’t worry about it, just shut up and eat your food.”
“Okay.”
…
It’s cold and dark out, but it's a welcome relief against Lance’s skin, warm from the buzz of his system. His mind feels hazy, and out of touch, like that prank Marco used to play all the time, his hand suddenly too high , or too low , or too slow . But this has to be impossible, Lance only drank water at the party, there’s no way he should be feeling like he had taken 20 shots of tequila, and then some.
There’s warmth on his right side, a body holding his own upright. “Wwheress Unk?”
His voice is distorted even in his own ears, like he was listening to an altered recording of himself from that one app on his nintendo ds.
“ Lance.”
The world swirls in his vision as he tries to look at his companion. The world is an unfinished painting, just colors without defined shapes, the artist unable to make any definitive lines of what’s reality and what’s not.
“Eith? Don’t feel sso good…” Lance’s voice trails off as he starts to dry heave.
Keith moves him bodily over to the nearest trash can, and the spinning of the world makes him more nauseous. Keith holds him up and rubs his back as he continues to dry heave, with only spit coming out.
If Lance could stand on his own feet, he would, but instead, he’s dead weight in Keith’s arms.
“I called Shiro, he’ll be here any minute now.” Keith sounded like he was talking through a brick wall. “I need you to try and remember everything tonight before you fall asleep.”
Lance stopped dry heaving, and turned to try and catch Keith’s eyes, his own widening. It might have been whatever he was on, but being told he can’t sleep sounded like a death sentence to him, “Mm tired! Please, jjust wanna, go to, to, to, bed.” Lance feels the tears in his eyes, and hears the whiny notes of his voice. “Keith?”
The other pulls them down to the ground, pulls Lance into his lap, and presses his face into Lance’s hair and neck. Lance shivers from the feeling, the breaths tickling his dulled senses.
Keith’s words are whispers of promise, into his skin. “I’m gonna kill whoever did this to you. I swear it.”
Lance laughs, relaxing into their hold on eachother, the closest they’ve ever been in each other's space. “I only had water Eith. Mm fine, Jackson from, from, math re-filled my bottle for mmme.” Lance laughs again, everything is so funny right now. “His tapwater’ss salty n gross!”
Keith pulls Lance back from him, something frantic in those dark eyes, as he looks into Lance’s. “Jackson refilled your water bottle for you?”
If Lance wasn’t feeling great right now he would have seen through all the details in Keith’s look, the one he got when someone pushed past them on the street, or when someone cut the line at a restaurant. There was untapped energy there, the feral animal’s leash worn down to a thread, ready to release something with sharp teeth, snapping jaws, and no mercy left in its soul.
Lance was distantly aware of the wetness falling from his eyes, but made no move to dry them. “I ffucked up, didn I? Nn you’re mad at, at, me, I’mm sorry Eith.”
Lance took a shaky breath in, and it seemed to rattle his frame as it was used to let out a small hiccup of a sob, the sound wet in his ears. He was too far gone to recognize his mistake of the night, all he knew was that his emotions were all over the place. Extreme highs and lows, all inside of Keith’s arms.
It’s bad enough Lance feels like a failure in general, but he’s feeling it tenfold now. He’s snowballing in his addled mind. He’s not doing as well in his classes as he wants to, and some of his teachers like Iverson like to make it known. They don’t need to keep telling him he’s stupid if it’s something he already knows, already believes himself to be. He’s still studying his ass off every chance he gets, between classes, at work during his 15 minute breaks, even walking around campus. But it's just not enough at the end of the day, and his ranking is dropping.
He doesn’t feel like himself these days.
Lance opens his eyes back up at the soft touch against his damp face, Keith’s calloused thumb running back and forth under his eyes, palm cupping his cheek. His large hands are warm and gentle as they hold Lance’s broken pieces together. It makes the heaving sobs stutter and stop.
Lance pushes into the palm like a cat being petted, grabs tightly to the wrist and holds the hand tightly to him, afraid of losing it, of Keith letting go.
Keith doesn’t need to say anything, and Lance doesn’t either as they sit and stare at one another. There’s something heavy in the air, that makes Lance’s heart beat funnily, but he doesn’t feel aware enough to recognize it, or call it by name.
It is only a minute or two before headlights shine onto them, and a car horn feels like it bursts through his ear drums. Shiro must be there, ready to pick them up and take them away from their spot near the trash can, sitting on the pavement with melted snow. Keith would probably complain later about the road salt bleaching his jeans, Lance spared of the same fate because of his spot on top of Keith.
“Keith?” Shiro shouts and steps out of the car, not bothering to close the door as he makes his way over to them. “What’s going on? You said something about Lance, and drugs, and something wrong? I want a full explanation in my car–”
Keith lifted up Lance as much as he could, handing him up to Shiro to carry, before standing up on his own. “We have to go to the hospital. Some piece of shit decided to put shit in Lance’s water and now he’s really fucked up.”
The two were jostling Lance as they carried him into the car, trying to put him into the backseat. It wasn’t until he was settled down, and looking at the other two through the door before he started to dry heave again, leaning through the doorway.
Shiro and Keith both panicked, holding onto him so he didn’t fall face first back out of the car.
Lance moaned out, and curled into himself. “Eith?”
“You should probably stay back here while I drive, to keep him awake and all,” Shiro muttered.
Keith nodded and slid in the backseat, letting Lance lean heavily into his chest, and into his coat, settling his face against the rough grain of the fabric.
The doors locked as Shiro sat in the driver's seat and looked back at the two through his mirror. “Is he gonna be okay Keith?”
Keith’s eyes flicked back and forth from Lance in his lap, and Shiro in the mirror, settling his eyes out the window when he couldn’t bear to look at either of them.
“I’ll make sure of it.”
…
Red and blue fluorescent lighting filled the bar, making shades of purple where the beams of light crossed paths. It’s a nice place to hang out with friends for the night, listen to music, drink and dance.
Making his way through the crowd, Lance went up to the bartender. “Miss? Could you get me a coke, no alcohol?
The woman gave him a strange look, but nodded and slid over a cold can to him.
She’s probably wondering why you came to a bar full of alcohol as a college student and ordered something sans alcohol.
Lance turned 21 over the summer before the new year. His mom and dad had wondered why he didn’t go out that night and get drunk, or even take a sip of the celebratory wine they had poured for him. But he could never tell them the truth about what had happened last semester. He wasn’t even drinking, and still got drugged. His only saving grace that night was Keith rescuing him, and Keith telling him later that the hospital said that he was smart to not indulge, or else he wouldn’t be able to press charges.
“They said if you were drunk the police wouldn’t be able to file a report, and they wouldn’t be able to find the drug in the drug test. ”
Lance was able to file a restraining order against Jackson, who had come clean to the police about spiking Lance’s drink, he hoped he would be able to take Lance back to his place after the effects came in full force, and Lance wasn’t the first person he had tried/ done it with, the police found a bag of the drug in his room.
There were six other accusations facing Jackson before he got caught.
But now Lance never really wanted to try it, to get drunk and lose himself in the world of alcohol, after that fiasco.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Did you get your drink yet?”
Lance turned around into Hunk and smiled, lifting the closed can up between them. “I got a coke! You guys better watch out!”
Hunk laughed, tipping his head back. His face was flushed from alcohol like the rest of their group, and his face was beaded with sweat that stuck in his hair and the scruff on his chin. He neglected to shave this week and so there was a nice 5 o'clock shadow coming in.
Lance made a note to himself to try and convince Hunk to keep it, it looked good on him.
Hunk looked back down and turned pulling Lance with him. “I should get you back to the table, Keith is getting all grumpy again without you there.”
It was Lance’s turn to laugh as they weaved their way through, occasionally getting a dirty look from dancing patrons as they made their way to the booth their friend group had set up shop in. “I still don’t get what you guys mean, Keith can be grumpy sometimes, but you guys make it sound like he’s miserable to be around.”
“Keith’s not grumpy when you’re with us, but as soon as you leave he becomes all snappy again, like a kid who had his favorite toy taken away.”
“I doubt I have that much of an effect on him, we’re all just friends anyways.”
Hunk looks back at him with a raised brow. “You don’t have to watch Keith look at your best friend's butt anytime he gets the opportunity.”
Lance feels himself flush and is about to yell back at Hunk, call him out for the lie, but Hunk is quicker, pushing Lance into the booth, knocking against whoever used to be sitting on the end. Hunk mutters “scooch” and pushes his way in until Lance is practically sitting on them.
When Lance looks at the person who’s space he invaded he flushes. “Hey Keith!” Lance forces himself to move into a more comfortable position, so he’s not on top of Keith (who is also blushing? What is that about?). “Didn’t mean to bulldoze my way into your space, I apologize on behalf of Hunk.”
On the other side of Keith, Pidge laughs and continues sipping on her drink (obtained with a fake ID). “Nice one Hunk, though I wish It didn’t include me getting squished down here too.”
Hunk laughs and moves to high-five her, pushing Lance up against Keith again.
Lance sets his drink down on the table and pops the tab to open it, taking a sip of it, liking how the liquid sugar pops on his tongue and down his throat. “I needed that,” he sighs. “It’s way too hot in here for January.”
Pidge sigs from her spot, and spins the straw in her drink around lazily. “I can’t believe this is you three’s last semester, who am I gonna cause chaos with my senior year?”
Lance feels his heart drop at the thought. Come next year he’ll have a big boy job somewhere, and he won't be able to see his best friends whenever he feels like it. The most he has is right now with them, and his little apartment he shares with Hunk and Keith.
For some reason, he feels sick at the thought of not being able to see Keith everymorning…
Lance interjects, trying to get rid of the sad storm cloud brewing above their table. “What I can’t believe is that Hunk just turned 22.”
Keith takes a swig of his drink and sets it back down. “It’s not the achievement you think it is.”
He would know, he’s already 23. Keith was a year behind in school because of growing up in the foster care system. He’s in the same grade as Hunk and Lance, but a year older because of it.
Things are different now for Keith. Around his 23rd, he got a letter from his mom, who never had a part in his life before. They reunited, and now she lives in the states, giving Keith a home to go back to when breaks come around.
Keith’s dad was an American, who served overseas in Korea. He fell in love and got her pregnant, and to Krolia’s pleading, took him back across the waters to Texas, where she hoped Keith might have better opportunities than she had. And Keith did, until his dad died in a fire, and left Keith to fend for himself as a 13 year old.
Keith’s saving grace was Shiro, who worked in the big brother program, and helped Keith overcome his struggles.
“Oh!” Hunk leaned forward into the table. “We should still have cake later! I can make one and we can have a little party for it next weekend at the apartment!”
Pidge chugged the rest of her glass, sliding it across the table to Shiro and Adam, who looked up from their private conversation to join the larger one. “I’ll bring booze.”
Shiro took the glass to inspect before settling it back down. “You are not getting booze Pidge, it’s bad enough you use a fake ID at bars, let alone using it at a store!”
Adam takes the glass and sniffs it, making a face before placing it back down. “I don’t even want to know what disgusting combination that was, you better take it easy on the next few drinks.”
Pidge adjusted her glasses so the light reflected off of them from the table. “I go for efficiency in my drinks, dear Adam.”
Keith laughs next to Lance, and he can smell the light lingering scent of alcohol on his breath, mixing with his cologne.
He seemed to wear more cologne these days, even just around the apartment hanging out with Lance.
Hunk suddenly bounced in the seat next to him, with enough power to roughly shake him too. “I love this song! Let’s go dance Lance,” Hunk didn’t wait for a yes or no before tugging on Lance’s arm, and pulling them into the crowd.
Lance laughed as they landed somewhere on the dancefloor, and Hunk took his hands to spin Lance around.
They both loved this part of parties. It was fun to twirl around with people, to go around and feel the baseline move them. Usually at parties, Hunk and Lance would be dance partners. Lance could playfully grind back on him and Hunk would move him around for different parts of the song.
They both came from places where people danced night and day, and dirty dancing was just dancing to them.
Lance thought nothing of it when everyone was trading dance partners, and he ended up leaning back into someone he realized a bit too late wasn’t Hunk.
The man is decently attractive, tall with broad shoulders, and large hands holding tight onto his waist.
His dance partner spun him around and pulled him close so they’re face to face, one hand holding Lance’s wrist, and the other traveling lower, squeezing his backend. His dopey smile as he presses in close to Lance let him know he was more than just drunk.
Lance moved to try and move the hand back up to his waist, with a gentle, “Hey now–”
But the hand didn’t move, and instead the man pitched a leg between Lances, rocking into him, mouthing against Lance’s ear. “Come on sugar, just keep moving those hips.”
Lance pulled his head away from the wet tongue trying to lick his earlobe, but the man took that as an invitation to try and move towards his neck. “I’m done dancing, let me go.”
Lance shoved at the other’s chest, trying to create space, but his dance partner still wasn’t getting the picture, groping Lance’s backend to try and pull them together. Lance squirmed his whole body, using every muscle to pull away.
“I’m done! This isn’t fun anymore! Get off of me!”
Lance was almost ready the give up as the man started to untuck his button-up in the back, before he heard someone call out beside them, and pull them apart roughly.
“He said get off asshole ,” Keith hissed out at the man, pulling Lance behind him.
The man tried to reach back out for Lance, hand extended. “I was just gonna show him a good time–”
Lance cried out as his wrist was grabbed roughly, the grip strong enough for his fingers to tingle with pinpricks.
“This one definitely knows how to work his hips just right–”
It’s a flurry of movement as Keith punches the man right in the face, shoving him to the floor. In the commotion he hears some girls next to them scream out as the man flies back, and Lance himself falls down.
The man let go of his wrist with the impact, but Lance’s pulling backward had no opposite force to stop him from falling back on his butt.
Looking up at Keith, his chest extends out and in with his deep breaths, and Lance sees his hands still clenching, like they’re aching to swing at the man again.
Keith has had to beat people up in the past, and told Lance how hard it is to hold back after the first punch, to ensure that the other is more than just down, but won't get up for a while.
“Keith?”
The man in question looks down at Lance, expression changing, hands relaxing. One extends out to Lance. “You okay? He had your wrist pretty tight–”
Lance didn’t get to take the hand, or assure he was okay before the other man stood up, and decided to throw a punch of his own. The crowd watching yelped, as Keith only took a step back from the impact, still standing, but brought a hand to his mouth, it coming away with blood in its palm.
This isn’t gonna be good, is it?
Keith took a second to stare at his hand, wet with his own blood, before clenching it, and launching himself at the other man.
Keith might have come a long way from the kid he used to be, in the foster program, fighting for his life, he had the body of a grown 23 year old man. But underneath it all, in a part he kept hidden like a secret, he was still a 13 year old kid, who knew the world to be unfair, and knew that you weren’t safe until your opponent was down for the count.
There were few times that Lance saw this uglier side of Keith. Most of them in a whisper of a memory, 2 am talks through the phone before the apartment. And then there were other sides of it too, like Keith squirreling away snacks in his bedroom closet, or the fact that it took weeks for Keith to finally unpack and set up his room. Or even the fact that more often than not, Keith kept his room locked when he wasn’t home, and only told Lance, not Hunk, where the key is.
And as Hunk and Shiro appear, pulling the two apart while Adam and Pidge help him up, Pidge asking a million questions, Adam asking none, he sees that side of Keith.
Lance had the feeling the day he met Keith that he was meeting another person who was almost feral, all frayed edges and sharp corners.
But the way Keith spit blood at the man after being pulled off of him reminded Lance that no matter how domesticated he might seem, there was still a side of Keith that never could be.
…
The lights were soft, just a warm yellow glow inside of Ryan’s room. Smooth RnB music played from Lance’s phone on the nightstand. It was quiet enough for Lance to hear the sounds of Ryan’s breath, and the sound their lips made coming together and apart.
Lance finally has a boyfriend. It’s been exciting having a hand to hold as they walked to classes, to have someone just peck him on the lips because they couldn’t help it.
It was going great, they were taking it slow, even now with slow kisses as Ryan hovered over him on the bed, no plans to go any further than a gentle grind.
The music stops, and Lance’s phone rings loudly in the room.
Ryan groans and settles back, rolling over as Lance goes for the phone, answering it without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“ Can you walk me through getting the printer to work? I need to print something out for class and it’s not working.”
Ryan crosses his arms beside him, and talks loudly enough for the phone to pick up his voice. “Hey Kogane , can’t Hunk help you with it? And didn’t Lance walk you through that last week too?”
Lance puts a hand to his face and breathes in deeply.
There’s another reason Lance and Ryan haven’t been getting very far.
“ Hunk can’t figure it out, Kinkade , that’s why I’m calling Lance .”
Ryan takes the phone from Lance. “I thought Hunk was an engineering major? Surely he’ll be a better help than a marine biology major.”
Lance rolls over and takes the phone back, but puts it on speaker mode, so the three of them can talk together. “Guys-”
“ I mean he’s still gotta be more helpful than some lousy business major,” Keith grits out before laughing, “ I mean, what kind of idiot would go into a business major, right Lance?”
Lance sighs, “Keith, Ryan is a business major, remember?”
“ My point still stands–”
Ryan huffs out and sits up, getting heated at the insult. “It’s still better than playing with planes–”
“Enough!” Lance shouts out. “Both of you, god! Why do you two always have to get at each other's throats all the time?”
The line was quiet on the phone, and even Ryan was quiet. Both men simmered down with Lance raising his voice.
Ryan was the first to speak up, he moved the phone back onto the bed between him and Lance. He leaned over it to speak, “Sorry babe, I just hate that we keep getting interrupted.”
Ryan moved to kiss him wetly on the lips, the sound loud in the room, and definitely audible over the phone. “Everytime it starts to get good,” kiss , “something comes up.”
Ryan moves down to Lance’s neck, but almost to prove his point, Keith yells back through the phone.
“Hello? Lance? The printer? The one I’m gonna smash to pieces if you don’t answer me?”
Lance flushes, remembering Keith could hear them. But this time Ryan doesn’t stop kissing him, but keeps sucking into his neck, the sound probably loud enough through the phone.
“R-Right!” Lance squeaks as Ryan moves back over him, twisting their legs back together, the weight nice on top of him. “Did you check to see if it has ink?”
Lance hears Keith mess with the printer on the phone. “ There’s ink, that’s not the issue.”
Ryan groans into his neck, switching sides to bruise it over.
Lance bites his lip to keep in the noise, “Did you check if there’s paper in it?”
More shuffling over the phone until Keith hesitates. “ Found the issue.”
Ryan laughs, “You seriously called because there’s no paper in your printer?”
Keith grunts through the phone, a growled out sound. “ You know, Kinkade , I can’t remember where we put the extra paper now that you mention it. Hey Lance, wanna walk me through finding it? ”
Ryan takes the phone from the pillow, before sucking hard into Lance’s throat and grinding down hard, making Lance moan out. Lance flushes and covers his mouth as the sound rises again when Ryan repeats the action.
“Sorry Keith,” Ryan says, “Lance is busy.”
After Ryan flicked the phone to silent mode, it vibrated non-stop until Lance returned to the apartment two hours later.
…
The apartment is small. It seemed modest when Hunk, Lance, and Keith signed the lease. There was a bedroom for each of them, and enough room to fit a queen sized mattress, desk, and dresser in each. Hunk claimed the room on the opposite side of the apartment, leaving Keith and Lance to the two bedrooms on the other side that sat next to each other.
“I want to have Shay over, and I’m sure you guys are gonna want to be as far away as possible when she spends the night .”
There’s a thumping on the wall behind Lance’s head, Keith’s headboard slamming into the wall.
If I knew that Keith was going to be hooking up every night of the semester, I would put him in Hunk’s room, or maybe even myself!
Lance flops into a starfish position on his bed, giving up on trying to suffocate himself. The slamming of the headboard was sure to keep going for another 15 minutes yet, and more annoyingly, Keith’s hookup was going to keep shouting out for the duration of the performance.
The same performance that has been happening since Lance and Ryan hit one month.
(Ryan and Lance still hadn’t gone far sexually, enjoying the slow pace of the relationship. Ryan didn’t want to screw this up like his past ones, and Lance was scared of giving up the part of himself no one else had seen yet.)
Before the boys moved into the apartment Keith was already known around campus as a good lay. He hooked up every now and then freshman and sophomore year. Occasionally he took home someone from a party they all went out to, or the bars after turning 21.
So Keith hooking up with someone wasn’t the problem. Lance doesn’t want to slut shame or anything, knowing that if he were a different person, or in a different reality he might have done the same.
The problem is that over the course of 15 days, the apartment has had 10 of Keith’s special friends visit.
And Keith’s visitors seem to like banging on the wall connecting Keith’s room to Lance’s more than the front door.
Lance doesn’t know how much longer he can put up with it…
He hasn’t said anything to Keith yet and filed any formal complaints to him. But he knows he needs to, because this was getting a little more than ridiculous. Lance would try to be studying, but could only focus on the sound in the other room. Or even just try to go to bed, but the loud moans of pleasure kept him wide awake.
It’s like Keith is trying to make his life a living hell.
The noise finally stops, yells softened to heavy breathing through the wall. Lance hears Keith mutter something and step out of the room, shutting the door and leaving his partner on the bed.
Lance sits up, trying to steel his nerves. Something is making him anxious about talking to Keith about it all, a weird feeling settling in his stomach.
But he pushes through and goes to the kitchen, sitting down at the island and waiting for Keith to turn off the faucet he’s using to fill a glass of water.
Keith turns, and raises his eyebrow at Lance, leaning against the counter and chugging the water. His hair is a mess, black and spiked up in weird angles from being tugged on. But that’s nothing compared to the fact that he’s shirtless, hard planes of muscle, tapered down to basketball shorts that hang low enough for Lance to see the start of the dark hair down there. Keith’s skin is pale, but no more clear than Lance’s. Lance is littered with freckles, while Keith has a patchwork of tattoos around his. A droplet of water escapes from Keith’s glass and trails its way down his throat (with a few hickies), and past his chest and abdomen until it disappears in the fabric of his shorts.
The glass getting set down on the counter breaks Lance’s train of thought, and he looks up at the other, who stares him hard in the face.
Lance swallows under the gaze, feeling his earlier nervousness come back, and tries to ignore it the best he can.
“Hey Keith?”
“Yes Lance?”
Lance flexes his fingers together in his lap, trying to get his words together.
How do you ask someone to stop having sex?
“Would you mind, maybe letting me know when you’re gonna have guests over from now on?”
Keith crosses his arms, leaning further behind himself into the counter. “What’s it to you? Jealous?”
Lance’s mouth drops open and he stands from the stool he sits on, ”No! Of course not! I just can’t study properly or get any sleep with your headboard banging into my wall!”
Keith seems to shrink for a second, like he feels bad for it all. Upset and guilty over something Lance doesn’t fully understand.
But his expression changes suddenly. It flickers into something hard and mean, something Lance has never been on the receiving end of from Keith.
He makes his way around the island, into Lance’s space, and his words are gritted out in something angry and biting. “If you don’t like it you can go spend the night with Kinkade.”
Lance feels out of his body as Keith walks back to his room, the door slamming on the hinges.
…
The campus library is a quiet creature at night, like it too gives into the tiredness of its patrons, and follows into a slumber.
“Hey kid, it’s closing time, time to go wherever you all spawn from.”
Lance jolts awake on the table. Behind him waits the janitor, his bucket of water somewhere in Lance’s periphery.
“Sorry, I, uhh, fell asleep.”
The man huffs out something rough. “You ain't the first, and won’t be the last. Just go on out the front door, the others are locked up for the night.”
Lance hurriedly stuffs his books into his bag, and fixes the strap to his shoulder with a muttered “ thanks” before making his way to the front, making sure he feels his phone on him before stepping through the door.
The last thing he needs to do is leave his phone at the library, losing it until he can get it after his shift at work tomorrow .
But now Lance was stranded on campus, an almost worse fate. Hunk had driven them back to be on campus for their afternoon classes, but warned Lance that he would need to get a ride home.
It was finally springtime again, so it wasn’t too awful that Lance was going to have to walk home.
But it also meant that he was going to have to spend two hours walking through the dark streets of the small college town, rather than spend 10 minutes in a car.
The fact of the walk isn’t what made Lance want to break into tears.
Keith was supposed to study with me and then take us home…
Lance didn’t think the whole walk back to the apartment, only focused on making sure his legs wouldn’t fall asleep, or that the dark shadows falling across the roads were just shadows.
When he finally turned the key to the apartment and came inside, his mind was no longer blank, but filled with every expletive he’d ever heard, and dared not to say.
Keith was passed out on the couch, and the coffee table was scattered with empty beer cans.
Lance was fuming . He threw his keys into the ceramic bowl on the coffee table, and decided to put down his bag in his room, just in case it got caught in the fight he was going to start with Keith.
Walking back out into the living room, he took another look at Keith, drooling peacefully, like he couldn’t be bothered by the world and its problems.
Lance did what he knew best, pulling off his shoes, launching one sneaker at Keith’s head to wake him up, and holding the other one ready for when he did wake up.
And sure enough Keith sat up and murmured out, “What the fuck?”
He was still too out of it to catch the second shoe fly for his face, and it hit the spot, making Keith rub his nose and grunt out another curse.
When Keith finally looked around and saw Lance’s shoes next to the couch he looked up, at Lance, on the other side of the coffee table clenching his fists.
“What the–”
Lance cut in, voice cold. “Those things just walked for two hours Keith. Two hours. Because you decided you’d rather sit here drunk as a fish when you promised me you’d come and study with me at the library.”
Keith’s quiet. Eyes staring almost at Lance, but the pupils swam too much to focus on him longer than a second.
“You are so messed up right now, aren’t you?”
Lance’s words were muttered softly to himself.
Because despite how unbelievably angry and upset Lance was with Keith, he couldn’t bring himself to let him suffer. So he filled a glass of water from the sink and moved an empty can to set it down on a coaster in front of Keith.
“Drink this whole thing so I can keep scolding you.”
Keith obeyed, setting the glass back down on the table, a few inches to the left of the coaster, hand-eye coordination long gone.
When Keith sat back into the couch he seemed to be more present, eyes clearer and able to focus, but they wouldn’t look at him.
Lance could feel his heart breaking.
“Do you, like, hate me or something Keith?”
It was quiet in the room, and Lance spoke in a hushed tone. As if Keith hearing it softly or loudly would change the answer. The answer Lance doesn’t want to accept, but has been playing out in his head for almost three months now, since before spring break.
There's only a few weeks left of school at this point. After that Keith and Lance will be living their own lives.
If Keith won’t talk to me now, he’ll probably never talk to me again after school ends.
Lance felt his voice break in his throat, and let himself fall to the floor, to try and be easier for Keith to see. “Won’t you even look at me? Tell me that you don’t hate me? Tell me that you’re glad we became friends ?”
Keith finally met his gaze, eyes hard, with walls up that Lance didn’t understand. But he kept silent.
“I mean, I am Keith.” Lance felt tears start to come down, and he looked away with a sad smile. “I mean, I had fun. I’m glad that I overslept that morning, and that I almost smashed my face in at the quad. But I don’t know what’s gotten into you this semester. It’s like you’re a completely different person.”
He stopped as a shocked sob forced its way out, almost hysterical.
“Whatever I did, I’m sorry for! Really! But this isn’t the way friends treat each other.”
Lance took a minute to settle himself down, to pick at the threads in the carpet before standing up and wiping his face.
Keith watched him through the process, not daring to reach a hand out, to offer any comfort at all like he would in the past any time Lance cried, even over stupid things, like cute animals, or his favorite show getting cancelled.
“I, umm–” deep breath, in and out. “Have work in a few hours. So I’m gonna go to bed. There’s Advil in the bathroom cabinet, and water in the fridge. Try to sleep sitting up, just in case.”
Keith tried to stand up, to finally reach out and cross the gap between them. But this time it was Lance who pulled away, taking a step back, not daring to look up from the floor.
Not daring to look at him .
“Goodnight Keith.”
…
University of Altea’s best spot was a little mom and pop diner that was a five minute walk off campus. The place was outdated, with the pink faux leather peeling off the booths, yellowed ceiling tiles, and a few missing floor tiles, if one knew where to look. But the place always brought Lance comfort, and a need of comfort brought him here with Pidge and Allura to slowly drain out a vanilla milkshake.
(Allura already had three, they were her first milkshakes ever, and Pidge had to stop her from ordering a fourth with a warning about the possibility of indigestion in her future if she continued that path.)
Allura leaned an arm on the table, her and Pidge both sat across from him as he told them about him and Ryan breaking up.
This was the worst week of his life, easily. It started on Tuesday with Keith and Lance’s fight, and continued through Thursday, when Ryan called it quits.
Ryan admitted he was having feelings for someone else, and was getting impatient with the slow pace of their relationship.
Pidge adjusted her glasses and furrowed her eyebrows, which pushed them away from her face again. “So he broke up with you because you wouldn’t put out?”
Lance groaned and hid his face in his arms. “I don’t like you putting it that way.”
Allura hummed and propped her head on her propped arm, wrist holding up the weight. “It is true though I suppose. I’ll admit that Romelle and I had put out by the end of the first week… And we’re lesbians. Am I wrong in saying that typically gay male couples put out earlier on average than straight or lesbian couples?”
Lance lifted his head back up, nodding and moving the straw around in his drink.
I’m really about to graduate college without ever having sex.
“Typically yes, but Lance is kind of a prude and a tease.” Pidge took a sip of her peanut butter milkshake (gross).
Lance flushed but didn’t deny the statement. He was the type of guy who was always flirty and open to love, but rarely on the receiving end of it. A bridesmaid, but never the bride. Back in high school, and even in college there was always someone better than him in the eyes of a crush.
Always a second choice, never good enough.
And even now with Ryan, someone else was picked over him. He was just there to occupy Ryan’s time, the opening act ending for the real performance.
The show must go on.
Allura brightened, grabbing Lance’s hand that lay across the table. “No need to worry Lance, I’m sure you’ll be back on that gorbsnackle in no time!”
Pidge squinted at Allura, eying her up from head to toe, “What country are you from again?”
Allura rolled her eyes, ignoring Pidge’s question. “Some day, someone is going to come into your life and love you beyond measure, I’m sure of it.”
“Even if you don’t ever put out–”
“ Not helping!” Allura grit out, turning to the other girl who just shrugs.
“I’m fortunate in that I only desire world domination rather than romantic folly.”
Lance laughs brightly, feeling lighter in that moment than he had all week.
The door chimes, and Lance watches Allura wave over to the incoming patrons.
They invited everyone else, didn't they?
Hunk and Shiro slide in next to Lance, putting him against the wall, and on the other side of the booth Keith sits down, so that he’s the farthest he could possibly be from Lance.
And he still won’t even look me in the eye …
Shiro speaks up first, “Pidge texted us to meet you guys at the diner?”
Allura leaned forward to move her empty glasses to the end of the table. “Yes Shiro, she had at my request. We haven’t all sat down together for a meal in a while. I think we all have become quite busy with the near end of term, considering you and I will be receiving our Master degrees, and the other three their Bachelors.”
She stopped to stare longingly at the empty milkshake glasses. “Have you ever had a milkshake before? Lance insisted I try one and now I’ve had three and long for one more.”
Shiro laughed. “Yeah, I’ve had one or two before.”
Hunk leaned over into Lance’s space, noticing the vanilla milkshake Lance was still nursing, most of it melted by now.
“Oh Lance, a milkshake?” Hunk says. “What happened?”
(If Keith perked up across the table, Lance didn’t notice it.)
Lance stopped spinning the straw around the glass, and crossed his arms on the table, sighing. “It’s just been a rough week. I um, well, Ryan and I aren’t–”
Hunk bristled, like he was ready to fight someone, “What did he do? I swear–”
“He broke up with me, Hunk. We aren’t together anymore.”
Hunk’s shock was visible, as he sucked in a deep, audible breath, moving to grab Lance and ask more questions.
But Lance stops him, a soft semi smile, “No, I’m not telling you why. I don’t need you beating him up over nothing.”
Lance looked over at Allura and Pidge, trying to ask them through his stare to keep quiet. The last thing Lance needs is Hunk causing a scene with Ryan, when Lance just wants to forget he ever happened.
Across the table, Keith was leaning into the conversation, a smile on his face, and looking happier than Lance had seen him in months .
“Well good-fucking-riddance to Kinkade! Finally!”
Everyone went quiet, staring between Keith and Lance. A line had been crossed, but they couldn’t tell how badly yet.
“Excuse me?” Lance hissed.
Keith laughed and settled himself more comfortably in the booth like nothing was wrong, shrugging off his red windbreaker and handing it down the line to Pidge and Allura. “It’s good news Lance, you and Kinkade calling it off.”
Lance was still processing the words as Keith propped up a menu and started looking at it, once again not acknowledging what was so deeply wrong with what he was saying.
“Are you still drunk or high or whatever?”
Keith didn’t look up from his menu, but flicked a page over. “Do you want garlic knots? I think I might even be in the mood for them right now–”
Lance stands, slamming his hands on the table, and the clinking glasses draws the attention of other patrons to their booth. “What is wrong with you?”
To Lance’s eye, Keith looks amused for a second, only a little confused by the quirk of his brow. “Nothing Lance, I’m great actually–”
Lance huffs, grabbing his jacket, and climbing over the backside of the booth so Shiro and Hunk don’t have to scoot out for him to leave. “You can be such an awful person sometimes, Keith Kogane. Sorry everyone, I have to go home now.”
Lance leaves everyone slack jawed as he storms out of the small restaurant, the bell on the door chiming with his departure.
In the cool spring night air outside Lance takes a deep breath in and out. Pulling on his jacket and trying to remember which direction to go to head home.
God, he can be such an asshole!
Lance makes it a few steps before someone grabs his arm.
“What?!” Lance hisses, turning to look at his company.
Great …
“I really don’t want to talk to you right now, or else I might say something I’ll regret.”
Keith is standing there sheepishly, closer to Lance spatially than he dared to be for a while now. “Can we talk, Lance?”
Lance runs his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends, like the sharp pain of it will give him clarity, or the answers of the universe.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea right now Keith. I need some space right now. Both you and Ryan made this week really difficult, and I’m just tired, and want to sleep it off. I really don’t have the energy to get into it with you.”
Keith sighed, and reached into his jacket pocket, clicking his keys at something behind Lance, and yellow light blinked across the parking lot, across Keith’s face.
“Can I at least take you home? It’s a long walk back to the apartment–”
Lance laughed. If there is a God, he certainly was laughing ten times harder at the situation. The audacity of it all.
“Yeah Keith, it is a long walk. But you know what? It wouldn’t be the first time I did it, and at least it’s nicer and lighter out than when I did it last time.”
Keith dared to take a step closer, “Lance.”
Lance took two steps back.
“You know, I need the time on the walk actually. Gives me the time to think, and I have a lot of things I need to think about.”
Keith took another step forward, but this time, Lance turned around and walked away.
…
The lease for the apartment extends a month past the date of graduation. The landlord of the building figures that it gives the college kids another month to figure out what they’re doing, and more time to get the apartment back into shape after having rowdier tennants.
It was 4 days ago they all picked up their diplomas. Walked across the stage, and flipped their tassels. Lance’s parents couldn’t make it, because they were at Rachel’s graduation instead. It hurt a little, but as Hunk’s mom and dad and kid siblings all swept him up with congratulations, it nearly disappeared.
Seems like since birth you were second choice, runt of the family.
Lance loves his family with all he can. But he also recognizes how they’ve hurt him, and are likely to keep hurting him in the future.
Maybe that’s why Lance hesitates on buying a plane ticket back home, or why he asked the landlord to remind him how long the lease was good for.
Still, Lance has to face the fact of the matter. He can’t stay here forever, and he needs to at the very least finish packing up his things to ship back home.
But every time he opens up the brown box and looks inside it he just stares. He stared at the inside of the box for nearly three hours a week ago, frozen in his spot on the floor and head racing. He would just stare at it and think of anything and everything. It’s his own personal wishing-well, and in his mind he asks it to tell him his future.
He doesn’t want to think about the future.
At the very least, Hunk offered to let him stay at his house for a while if he wanted. And he asked Lance to go with him to visit extended family on the Hawaiian islands sometime in july. (As someone with a marine biology degree, Lance gave an enthusiastic and immediate yes to that offer.)
Lance misses Hunk’s presence around the apartment. He left to go back home 2 days ago.
Leaving just Keith and Lance .
They are on a “ necessary words” type of speaking terms after the scene in the restaurant. Lance only speaks to him when he has to, with the least amount of words possible. And Keith seems to communicate in bodily sounds, more of a grunt, or groan than actual words around the apartment.
Keith hasn’t said when he plans to go home, or mentioned anything about his own plane ticket. Lance only assumes that it is soon, because all of Keith’s belongings short of his bed and toothpaste are neatly packed away in boxes.
He’s probably used to having to just up and leave at a moment’s notice .
It’s tough having it be just the two of them. Keith only leaves a few times a day to visit Shiro, or get coffee or a meal out of the house.
Lance’s work let him resign early, telling him that they only needed a two weeks notice to formally put in the system, but Lance could stop coming in the week of graduation. Because of this, Lance is almost always at the apartment. He has groceries to sustain him, and he doesn’t have transportation to go anywhere else. Nevermind the fact that Lance doesn’t have the money to just go around and spend loosely on a drink at a cafe, or one last meal at the diner.
Lance has too much time on his hands. And all this time is either spent sleeping, or staring into the brown-box-void, or occasionally eating when he remembers, or feels dizzy when standing up to use the bathroom.
This is the start of the rest of my life.
“Is that some kind of Cuban game?”
Lance looks up from his spot on the ground, where he had been staring into the box again.
What time is it?
“Huh?”
Keith rolls his eyes and puts his arm on the doorframe, leaning into the room. “You’ve just been sitting there staring into that box for almost 15 minutes now.”
Lance grimaces. “Just packing up. Trying to think of a good place to start.”
Keith comes in and settles himself on Lance’s bed gently, like he can’t tell if he’s crossing a line by inviting himself into Lance’s room.
“How about the stuff on your desk and the shelf above it?” He offers.
Lance swallows, sparing a look at Keith before moving to his desk in a brief moment of spite. But as soon as Lance reaches out to grab a stuffed animal he placed on the shelf his hand stills, landing on the wood of the shelf next to the item.
Keith huffs out behind him as the moment lingers, and Lance’s arm strains from being lifted.
“Are you scared of it or something?”
Lance turns around and he feels his jaw clench, teeth pressing together in a way he knows his dentist would be upset about. “Did you just come in here to torment me? Seems to be your favorite hobby these days for some reason.”
Keith sobers, and stands up, crossing into Lance’s space. There’s a steeled look of determination there, as he takes Lance’s hand in his, and moves them together. Lance doesn’t dare utter a word as Keith lines up behind him, a hair’s width away from full body contact, and their left arms lined up together reach for the shelf. This time, Lance’s hand connects with the toy. The inside of his hand touching something soft, and plush, and the outside of his hand against the rough hard callouses of Keith’s hand.
Keith’s voice is a whisper in his ear, “You’re scared of how fast everything is changing.”
Lance felt overwhelmed, with the deep timbre of Keith’s voice in his ear, and the body heat from behind him.
Because there’s always been more to it all. Lance never dared to call it by name, the thing that has held him back and pushed him forwards for four years now. It made him happier than he could imagine, but also broke his heart past repair. Lance didn’t know how he would go on without its all encompassing presence anymore, how to function if no longer under its spell.
And even now, he felt himself confessing his fears he didn’t dare speak aloud before, and in a whisper at that.
“I think I fell in love with you.”
Lance’s breath stops when he feels Keith’s head drop into his shoulder, smells the overwhelming scent of that damn tobacco and vanilla cologne.
“You too, huh? I was starting to think I was the only one.”
“Someday, someone is going to come into your life–”
“You’ve had me Lance, since the day we met I couldn’t stop thinking about you–”
“ And love you beyond measure.”
“And I was terrified , thinking that I could lose you, because of some idiot –.”
“ I’m sure of it!”
“And I’m almost more terrified that I lost you because I fucked up , and was an even bigger idiot.”
Lance is shell shocked, as he stands, watching the colors of the sunset fill his room, as Keith confesses his love to him. It wasn’t anything spectacular, no marching band, or rocks thrown at his window. But it was a confession to him , and it was beautiful, and Keith’s .
“Lance? Can you forgive me for all the shit I’ve been putting you through? Because you were right, it’s not how you treat a friend, and so far from how I should treat you , someone I’m in love with.”
Lance set the plushie down on his desk and turned in Keith’s arms, to look up into his eyes. Whatever weird shade of purple and black he’s never been able to put a name to. But it didn’t matter much when they were full of yearning more than anything else.
Lance smiled up at him.
“You are the most infuriating person I have ever met, but I also love you beyond all reason.”
Keith smiles something childish, his incisors just the tiniest bit too large, and poking into his lip. But it doesn’t stop him from crowding Lance backwards into the desk, eyes running all over Lance’s face, like he’s looking for something.
“I sure as hell am not letting you forget your misdeeds Keith, you hear me? You’re going to have to grovel into the the next life–”
“Can I kiss you?”
Lance shuts up, jaw snapping shut.
“Yes?”
Keith laughs, something low, and a half growl in his throat. “ Good.”
Keith wraps a hand around his waist, the other one tugging his head up as Keith bends down to kiss him.
It’s rough, and excited, and passionate as Keith bites at Lance’s lip, and invites himself into his mouth.
Never before had Lance been kissed like this, like he was going to be devoured, like he was oxygen to the other person.
Lance quickly learned how to breathe in through his nose, even as it bumped against Keith’s, and his hands found their way around Keith too. One latching down on Keith’s neck, pulling him closer, and the other latched in the fabric of Keith’s t-shirt, fabric knotted in his palm. Their bodies swayed back and forth, as Lance would start to fall back into the desk, and Keith would pull them back before his head hit the shelf above it.
For a long time Lance wondered if he was like Pidge, and just had a low sex drive, or none at all. But he was being proved wrong as he felt something in his stomach tighten, and felt heat like fire race through him head to toe. Keith had melted away the iciness of him until it was nothing short of a matching roaring fire.
Keith’s hand on his waist moved his shirt up, to grip his waist without the barrier, and Lance’s head pulled away from the kiss as a soft moan pitched its way through him. Keith reacted in a matching grunt of approval, rocking forward, and tucking his head back into Lance’s neck. Lance’s hips jolted back, his body no longer in his control, but under Keith’s guidance, and it’s own carnal desire.
They take a minute to calm down, deep heaving breaths together, not daring to separate, but not ready to connect again like they had minutes prior.
Keith pulled away rigidly, his body seemed tight as it stuttered back, but he kept Lance’s hands locked in his as they separated.
Lance still felt a little like he was floating, knees weak as he stood on his own for a second.
“You okay?”
Lance nodded, taking another deep breath, in and out. “I’ve just never, well, it’s never felt like that before. It’s almost overwhelming, but not in a bad way.”
Keith smirks and sits back down on the bed. “I mean it feels different with someone you love, for sure–”
Lance flushes and sits on his desk. “I think it was a little more than that. This is kinda embarrassing to admit but I’ve never really gone beyond that . Never really wanted to before.”
The look on Keith’s face was a mix of different things, like he felt guilty, but was still happy to hear it. Almost like a kid getting yelled at for eating a cookie before dinner, and knowing that they were still going to get another one after dinner anyways.
“So I guess my sabotage plans succeeded…”
Lance crosses his arms and scoffs. “You mean with Ryan? Because anytime I brought him over here you were up our asses and leaving my door open each time you passed like I’m some teenager with a door open rule! Not to mention, you would call nonstop when I went over to his place.”
Keith did his best to look guilty, but the smirk on his face overruled it. “Yeah I lied about not knowing how to boil water.”
Lance feels himself tip forward in laughter, thinking of the idiocy of it all. The fact that every time Keith called, Lance knew he would be wasting his time, but he couldn’t bring himself to not pick up every time. There was only one time that Ryan turned off his phone behind his back, and soon after that, Keith brought around his night-time playmates.
Lance soured at the thought of them all.
“What’s that face for Lance?”
Lance straightens up from his perch. “Huh?”
Keith rolls his eyes and leans back into the bed, palms propping him up. “You made a face like you stepped in something gross. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
Lance could avoid the question, but that would also mean he was avoiding the situation. Ignoring what all took place leading up to graduation. Lance can’t accept Keith’s sweet sides, without acknowledging his sour ones too.
“Did you sleep with all those people to make me jealous? Were you sleeping with them just to spite and hurt me?”
Keith let out a breath, face becoming more serious, more regretful. “I was trying to get over you. When you wouldn’t pick up my calls anymore, I decided to get attention in the wrong places. But it didn’t work, and I even had one of them slap me because I called out your name.”
“You weren’t just trying to be vindictive?”
Keith shook his head. “Did you ever see them? They all looked like you.”
Lance takes a second to process the fact. At the time Lance thought that Keith was trying to hurt him, willing to use his body to prove a point, knowing it was something Lance could never bring himself to do.
The idea of sex is scary to Lance. The act seems fine, he gets the mechanics of it. But Lance knows his heart too well, knows that it couldn’t bear the heartbreak of having someone leave after reaching that level of intimacy. And the string of past lovers that abandoned him before just proved him right.
Including Ryan .
Lance hugs his leg up to him on the desk, bracing himself to ask Keith what he’s scared to know.
“What if I told you that I never want to have sex, that I’ll never be ready for it. Even if you waited 50 years from now, and I still won’t do it. Or, what if I told you I don’t want to have sex until we’re married?”
Keith stands and moves back into Lance’s space, unknotting Lance’s hands, and bringing his leg down, opening Lance up. “If you never want to have sex, that’s fine with me. I just want to be with you, have wanted to for four years now. And if you wanted to wait for marriage, then we could get married tomorrow if you wanted. I’ve known you for a while now Lance, but I’m certain you’re the one I want to be with when the world burns.”
Lance leans his head into Keith’s chest as it spins. “Did you just propose to me?”
Keith hums for a second.
“Yeah, I think so. If we dated for two years do you think you could give me a yes or no then? I think 25 and 26 is long enough. And after two years maybe Hunk will give me his blessing, he’s pretty pissed with me as of right now.”
“Yeah, I wonder why!”
Keith moves in closer, standing between Lance’s legs, grabbing his thighs in each hand. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
Lance nods.
Keith lifts Lance from the desk and carries him over to the bed, dropping Lance on the mattress so that Keith is caging him in, a sturdy force above him, and between his legs.
Keith is smirking down at him.
“Still funny?”
This is so hot …
“Lance?”
Lance feels his face flush red, heat burning his ears and neck, splotching it’s way over him.
“What if we just had sex right now?”
He slaps a hand over his mouth, and then takes it back off only to whisper out conspiratorially, “Did I really just say that? Like out loud?”
Idiot! Lance you idiot! You just made him almost promise to remain as abstinent as you, and then just throw that out there? What the hell?
Keith sinks down slowly, once again reading Lance’s face as their hips settle together, but Keith still keeps his torso propped up by his forearms on each side of Lance’s head.
“Do you want to have sex?” Keith asks softly. “There’s no pressure to say yes or no. It’s your choice Lance.”
Keith is so honest and open and earnest that Lance feels his anxieties slip away. For the first time ever, Lance wanted someone as deeply as they wanted him.
Lance’s hand is shaky as it runs across Keith’s jaw, and is poked by the beginnings of stubble. But he settles it on the back of Keith’s neck, pulling him down again, but softer than it had before, in their first kiss.
Keith meets it without hesitation, moving just as softly, chapped lips soft under Lance’s ministrations. Keith is gentle here, like Lance has sanded down all of his rough and rocky edges, if only for a moment in time so that they can be together.
Keith groans into the kiss and pulls back, eyes still closed as his forehead settles against Lance’s.
“I need to know how far you want to go before we continue. I’m down for whatever but I could never forgive myself if I accidentally crossed a boundary and ruined everything.”
For years Lance had been caught up in the idea of waiting for the perfect person, and he didn't think that anyone could be more perfect than the man on top of him, who loved him with all his being.
“Everything Keith. With you, I don’t want to wait any longer. It’s already perfect.”
“I love you Lance.”
Keith groaned and came back into their kiss, still soft, but more sure of himself. Just a little bit bossier as he trailed his hand up Lance’s side under the cotton, and rolled his thumb over a nipple.
Lance whined loudly, and bucked up at the motion, his body felt more sensitive than it ever had before, like the nerve endings tripled under his skin.
He tried to just hold on as Keith was winding him up with the caresses across his chest, with each pinch and tug, he pulled at Keith’s shirt, a little afraid his nails might ruin it from his hard grip in the fabric.
But Keith didn’t seem to care, choosing to bite Lance’s earlobe, and whisper into it.
“Had no idea you’re this sensitive, can only imagine what you’ll sound like on my cock.”
Lance moaned at his words, before letting out the breathy remains of a laugh.
“I had no idea – mmm – either!”
Keith leans back and pulls his shirt off, pulling the fabric from the back, over his head, and tossing it somewhere in the room. Lance tries to follow, Keith helping him toss it to the side.
Lance becomes aware of the differences in their bodies. Keith is tall and broad, something out of a Calvin Klein underwear ad. All his days at the gym worth it, and visible.
“None of that now,” Keith says, pulling Lance's arms from trying to cover himself.
Lance doesn’t look anything like Keith. He’s always been tall, and lanky. In college he became little more than skin and bones, his ribs poked out of his skin, and a sharp pinch to his waist. Just like his Rachel and mom he carried his weight and strength in his lower body.
Keith moved their hands together to frame Lance’s head.
I should go the gym more–
“You’re so fucking beautiful Lance.”
Keith abandoned his hands by his head, bringing his own to trace down the lines of Lance’s body, tracing where his ribs poked out, pinching at the sensitive centers of his chest, watching Lance bite his lip to try and keep quiet. He ducked down his head, taking the bud into his mouth, and it gave Lance full bodied shivers. Lance grabbed the sheets next to his head, doing a miserable job of keeping quiet, choosing to focus more on keeping his composure. Keith decided to do his worst, looking up at Lance while he bit, and tugged it back with his teeth, and blowing cool air from his mouth across the wet skin.
“ Fuck!”
Keith started on the other one, so he switched between sucking on one, and twisting and tugging the other.
Now I know why those guys were always screaming.
It’s so intense, and Lance doesn’t know if he wants to give in to the attentions or try to pull away.
I’m gonna come, but I don’t want this to end, I don’t wanna come like this just yet…
Lance pushes Keith’s head away, finally able to breathe, trying to will his lower half to calm down. Keith just looks at him with a confused gaze, like a kid wondering why their toy was taken away.
“I just… need a minute.” Lance confesses. “I almost, yeah.”
Keith smirks, proud of himself. “Next time you should just come, I’d love to see you fall apart just on having your chest played with. Did you know they were that sensitive?”
“Not a clue.”
Lance sat up, he didn’t want to just stop here. He wanted to give Keith as good as he got.
“Can I suck your cock?”
“ Fucking–” Keith let out a low groan, tilting his head up, taking a deep breath. Lance tested his luck, hand feeling along the thigh part of Keith’s sweatpants, not daring to dip in or even touch on top without a yes first.
Keith flops down beside him, taking Lance’s hand and guiding it down to rest against his stomach, against the start of the line of dark hair.
“Yeah baby, suck my cock. Let me feel your mouth on me.”
“ Geeze–”
Lance leaned over, using his bit of confidence to pull down Keith’s briefs and sweats in one go, not daring to look until they were all the way off. It was a good idea too, because Lance stopped in his tracks seeing Keith’s monster of a cock exposed.
It’s massive, I hope it fits…
Keith kept his own composure, not missing a beat. He took it in his hand, and went up and down it, giving it a light squeeze before letting go, offering himself some relief.
Lance bent forward to lay on his stomach, so that it was closer and eye level.
How do those pornstars do it?
He tentatively took it in his hand, mimicking the motion Keith did, and looked up to make sure Keith wasn’t grimacing or in pain. But he was already looking at Lance between his legs, eyes blown out as he leaned back against the pillows. Keith moved his hand over and grabbed Lance’s jaw, Lance dropping it open at the contact, and accepting Keith’s fingers as they felt around his tongue. When Keith left just the tip of his thumb in, Lance gave it a light suck, holding eye contact.
“God, you’re a fucking wet dream Lance… You couldn’t possibly know how many times I woke up from a dream just like this, hard .”
It’s the encouragement Lance needs, as he lowers his head down to lay his tongue flat against the head, trying to give Keith a show with his mouth wide open.
Keith grunts, and his hips flex forward by accident, his cock smearing pre along the side of Lance’s face.
This is probably beyond bad for my skin but it’s worth it.
Lance chooses to ignore the mistake, instead taking Keith down his throat, inching down it until his jaw hurts, and trying to take more. The fullness of it in his mouth feels good, and his moan sends vibrations out from his throat around it, Keith hisses in the back of his awareness.
He gets to work, focusing on bobbing his head on as much of it as he can take, using his two hands to work what he can’t fit. He keeps a steady pace, pulling up until it’s almost out, and sticking his tongue out at the slit, before engulfing as much as he can again. The back of his throat feels sore when the bluntness of Keith’s cock bruises it. His jaw aches from trying to keep his mouth as wide as possible, because Keith wasn’t only long, but thick too .
Keith’s hand lands in his hair, fingers weaving through close to his scalp before they pull together, and Lance finds his face being dragged up by his hair. The pressure feels good in the tug, and Lance moans coming off of Keith, mouth jaw dripping and wide open as he looks up at Keith, about to ask why he was pulled off.
Keith is huffing, chest moving deeply, and eyes dark as he regards him. “You gotta stop, you are way too good at that to still be a virgin.”
“Oh yeah?”
Keith smiles, running his free hand through his own hair. “So good I wish I had the stamina to come twice, could fill up your mouth and then your ass . See my come across that pretty face, and over that big ass.”
“ Jesus Keith–”
Keith’s already moving, body before his words. “Just kiss me already.”
It’s an awkward angle again as Keith kisses down into him, Lance with no leverage. And even in the kiss it’s Keith in control as he bullies his tongue inside.
He lavishes in it for a minute before pulling away, “Can I finger you open and fuck you? Make you come on my cock?”
“Hell yes!”
Keith doesn’t waste time, reaching over to Lance’s nightstand and pulling out Lance’s bottle of lube.
“How did you know that I would have any?” Lance asks, a little scared of the answer.
Keith’s smile is something teasing, as he reaches back in the nightstand, and pulls out one of Lance’s toys.
“Hey–!”
“Because, these things keep me up at night through these thin walls.” He admits. “You always use it when you have a stressful day, and I wanted so badly to just come over, and help you relax, myself .”
Lance flushes, trying to put the image away. It sounds like a porn scenario, “ Stud helps his twink roomate relax after a long day!” . The thought of them using the toys in the future sounds enticing, but Lance wants to leave that for future Lance , current Lance just wanting Keith, and Keith only.
Lance pushes himself into a crawl, up into Keith’s lap, eye contact as he seats himself on Keith’s lap. “Well Keith, you made it into my bed this time.”
He grinds back, feeling the hardness between his thin sweatpants, and Keith grips rough at his waist, pushing into it, rocking them again.
Lance leans down into Keith’s ear, sucking lightly at the lobe, whispering into the shell, “Gonna finally fuck me like you wanted to?”
“You are gonna be the death of me, Lance.” He huffs.
Keith flips them over, and pulls Lance’s boxers and sweats off in one tug, until Lance is stripped bare and open to look at underneath him, brown curls splayed across the pillow.
Lance doesn’t have it in him to feel self-conscious this time, especially when Keith makes his way down between Lance’s legs . Keith grips the flesh of his thighs and ass, letting it bubble between splayed fingers. Keith was almost mesmerized by it, kept playing with it and watching as it filled and overflowed his hands.
“You know you’re really fucking sexy, right Lance? I just want to bite down into all of this, mark it up like I marked up your neck. I want everyone to know you’re mine –”
He pumped Lance, and Lance’s hips jumped as he gasped.
“That I’m the one who makes you feel good.”
They worked together to move a pillow under Lance’s hips, to lay him down so his ankles sat by Keith’s ears. Then the cap of the bottle of lube popped open.
Keith lowered himself down, to settle Lance’s thighs by his ears, and his wet finger lightly rubs Lance’s opening. Lance feels himself clench and unclench, as his body tries to entice the finger in. His cock is dripping precome down his navel, and white pearls against his browned skin.
“Relax baby, this isn’t gonna work if you’re tense.”
He takes a deep breath in, and as it releases, Keith’s finger wiggles in up to the first knuckle.
Lance is familiar with this feeling, and concentrates on his breathing. Trying to ignore the urge to buck down on the finger as Keith moves it in and out, twisting and prodding.
More lube, and Keith wiggles another finger in. Lance sighs at the feeling, the stretch feeling better as the fingers scissor back and forth, moving in and out.
“You doing okay up there?”
“Never better, put another in,” Lance demands.
The third finger aches a little, Keith’s hands are larger, fingers thicker. This time Keith doesn’t seem to go for efficiency, and reaches out, crooking his fingers to left a little.
“Haah! Right there!”
Keith laughs, letting his thumb play with Lance’s rim as his he hooks his fingers, rolling into Lance’s sweet spot.
The attack makes Lance shout out and the muscles in his legs tighten, closing in around Keith’s face, and bucking into the pressure, so Keith’s fingers hit it with dead accuracy.
“Ohh god! Keith! Fff–”
Keith doesn’t let up, even as Lance’s cock twitches against his belly, red, and covered in its own precome. With each buck of Lance’s hips it bounces, a wet sound as it keeps landing in its own mess, smearing it across the space.
Lance fists the sheets. He feels them pull off the corners of the mattress, the elastic not strong enough against his tugging. He’s never felt this good ever , even when doing it himself.
Keith lets up on him, slowing the press of his fingers. But then Keith growls , something feral, and bends his head down to start licking at the entrance.
“Ohhhh my god! Haah– fucking, fuck!”
His tongue is warm and wet as it sets upon Lance again. Keith works his fingers back into a steady rhythm, but sucks at the rim of muscle outside, and pushes his tongue in. Lance feels like he’s on another plane of existence. Keith is a maestro , and Lance’s body the instrument played to his will, subject to his touch, a slave to it. Keith’s breath is warm against the area, and mouth slick to the touch. Lance is his masterpiece.
It’s nearly three minutes touching heaven for Lance before Keith slows down, fingers pulling out and face pulling back.
Lance sees black spots in his vision as he tries to process it all, heaving like he’d ran a marathon.
Keith rubs his hands up Lance’s thighs that sit beside his ears, taking a minute to suck a hickey and bite the flesh of it’s insides as he massages the muscles lining the outsides.
When Lance’s breathing finally slows to something reasonable, Keith speaks up.
“I should have asked before eating you out, I just couldn’t help myself–”
“Nope!” Lance shouts, shaking his head to each side, “I’m giving you a lifetime free pass. You can do that any time you want, that was amazing !”
Keith’s breath is still warm as he laughs into Lance’s thighs, now properly disfigured by Keith. “I’m glad you liked it. Are you ready to move on? Still want me to fuck you?”
“ Yes, god, yes. ”
Keith adjusts himself, so that Lance’s splayed legs hang open around his waist, giving himself a better position to have leverage.
“Condom?”
Lance pauses. He doesn’t have any condoms. There’s been no need for them yet in his own life. Keith probably has some in his room, but if Lance is honest, he kinda wants to feel Keith without the condom, wants all of him .
“Are you open to not using one?”
Keith hums, taking a second to think it over before deciding.
“We should probably use one for your first time. You’re gonna be exhausted and not want to clean it up after. And more importantly, I want to just hold you in my arms when we finish, and having to get up and clean up will ruin that.”
Lance agrees. The idea of cuddling after sex more than just appealing. “You should probably go get one then, and maybe a washcloth to set aside so we don’t have to get up for it later.”
Keith nods and gets up, gathering materials and setting them down on the nightstand. Lance makes a note to yell at him later for setting down a wet washcloth down on his wooden nightstand, hoping the water doesn’t damage the wood while they’re occupied .
(He’ll probably tease Keith later about bringing in the whole box of condoms too.)
Keith tears open the wrapper, and fits the latex on himself, moving back into position, putting Lance’s legs back on his shoulders.
Oh is that some sort of kink of yours Keith? Maybe I should buy an anklet, so he can hear the chain clink next to his ear…
Keith covers his cock in lube, wiping the extra against Lance’s hole.
“Lance,” Keith says softly. “Give me your hand, so you can squeeze it if I’m going in too fast.”
Lance nods, finding determination in himself to really prepare for the stretch.
He’s bigger than anything in my nightstand!
Keith finally pushes in, and Lance focuses on bearing down on it, on remembering to breathe, knowing that it’s not all in yet. Keith stops himself without Lance’s hand squeezing when there’s three inches in.
He takes a deep breath in and out, steadying himself, like it’s as much of a struggle for him as Lance. He’s just as affected by the dull pressure of Lance wrapped around him.
“You’re so fucking tight !” He grits out. “I’m trying so hard to not just shove in and have my way with you.”
After a minute, Keith starts to push in more, slowly forcing in each inch of his cock.
When Lance feels Keith finally seated in all the way, a breathy laugh escapes him. More out of amazement with the fact that Keith is actually inside him.
“I’m not a virgin anymore,” he mutters. “Almost the farthest thing from it now, yeah?”
Keith laughs at him, and starts to rock himself around, not pulling in or out, but making Lance feel the stretch. “Not anymore baby, I’ve made sure of that.”
Lance joins the rocking, moaning high and loud at the feeling of Keith in his guts, thick, warm, and hard. “You should defile me the rest of the way now– haah!”
Keith didn’t wait, always the impatient one of the two, as he pulled out to the tip, and thrusted all the way back in, grinding himself in when fully inside again.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow morning,” In and out, a gasp of pleasure. “And after tonight, you’re not gonna use that nightstand anymore.. Only want me , and my cock .”
“Fuck!”
Keith sped up his thrusts, and this time Lance’s headboard banged against the wall. His mattress creaked under their weight.
And Lance was the one screaming now, moaning high and long, whimpering. His mouth an open and endless stream of sounds as Keith bent forward, putting those ankles high in the air between them, almost behind Lance’s head.
Keith grunted into his mouth and neck, kisses more like licks across his skin as he panted and moaned himself, something Lance never heard from the other side of the wall, something none of Keith’s past partners heard. It’s Lance’s, and his only, knowing that it was his body bringing Keith to his own loss of composure.
Keith was hitting his spot dead on , making his body feel like it's in a permanent state of buzzing, like a livewire with enough electricity crackling through it to send a man to an early grave if he dared to touch it. But here was Keith, gripping at his thighs, pushing at his legs, fingers pinching his nipples and tugging sharp.
Lance’s hips were beyond his conscious control as they bucked and twisted, and tried to find a way to Keith’s pounding away.
There was no warning when his voice cut out, not able to produce any sound at all as he came, releasing against his stomach. His head flinged backwards, making his come hit the underside of his chin rather than land across his face.
Keith kept pace as Lance rode his high, each press against his prostate sending more waves to ricochet through his body, making his ears ring until he started coming back down.
Coming back, Lance looked in Keith’s eyes, as Keith bit his own lip, thrusting shallowly, trying to keep his own composure, step back from the ledge Lance fell over.
Something was wrong though, and Lance could tell with the glazed look to Keith’s eyes.
“Keith? Are you okay?”
He didn’t stop moving, but kept the shallow slow pace, jaw still clenched. “Don’t wanna, fuck Lance, come yet.”
Lance reached up a hand to run across his face, and Keith leaned into it, worry lines on his forehead loosening, time making itself known. “It’s okay, I just came. We don’t have to go at it any longer, you can let go–”
“No!” Keith gasped out, and a single tear made it’s way down with the clench of his eyelids, tracing it’s way along Lance’s hand. “I can’t let go Lance. I don't.. want , to let go... I’m so in love with you… I can’t –” his voice broke, raspy. “I just want you , even if it’s just another few seconds. This is the only way I know how– fucking –”
Lance might be broken at times, but Keith seems to be just as broken.
We can be fixed, together.
Keith gives out a final harsh grunt, dropping his head into Lance’s collarbone, almost drooling on it as his hips stutter, and he comes. Lance trails his fingertips up and down his back, comforting him through it, as his breathing slows.
Lance almost thinks that Keith fell asleep. He didn’t move, just lay there tangled up, softening inside of Lance seemingly oblivious to the tackiness becoming dry between their sweaty bodies, Lance still folded in half , Keith’s weight keeping them together.
But finally Keith peels away with Lance’s finger’s brushing back the bangs of his dark hair. He’s quiet as he cleans Lance up, running the rag through the mess, tossing it at Lance’s trash can. And still quiet as he ties off the condom and throws it in the general area of the trashcan, not watching as it hit the floor next to it.
When their eyes meet again it’s with something soft, and they pull Lance’s comforter over them both, and Keith pulls Lance into his arms, like Lance is just his teddy bear, holding on tight to his waist, putting his face back in Lance’s neck.
That seems to be his favorite spot to be, just stick his face right in the crook .
Lance doesn’t feel the need to say anything, just relaxes and throws an arm around the arm on his waist. He almost drifts off to sleep but Keith’s whisper keeps him alert.
“You think you could find a job in Texas?”
Lance mulls it over. His degree in marine biology limited him to mainly coast lines. The only coastline in Texas connects with the Gulf of Mexico. It wouldn’t be as optimal as Miami, or even Hawaii.
Lance doesn’t dare break the soft atmosphere, whispering back without turning, “Chances are an 8 out of 10, if I lived on the coastline.”
“Would you come with me, after the summer, if I bought a house on the coastline?”
Lance rubs the skin on the back of Keith’s hand, coercing it into turning over, and lacing it with his own.
“I’d go tomorrow.”
…