Chapter Text
It starts with Lance coyly asking Keith if he's noticed anything different about him.
Keith, who's failed to pick up on subtler differences in the past, immediately sets his phone down and opens his mouth to ask-
"One hint," Lance says before he can, but poses a question that only confuses Keith further. "Hasn't my skin felt softer?" He bats his eyelashes
Keith swallows and sits up, treading carefully. "Lance, your skin is always soft."
Lance smiles in response - which is good, Keith thinks - but shakes his head. "More specifically..." He steps closer so he's standing right in front of Keith. "My blegs."
Keith rolls his eyes at that. Back before Lance started strength training with Shiro and him, his steady diet of cardio and yoga left Lance lacking in the booty department - Lance's words - which was why he called his butt "blegs" - "like my back goes straight into my legs" - Which was silly, cuz even then, Keith loved Lance's butt. Shiro, too.
"Ahem." Lance clears his throat.
Keith returns to the present. "Your... butt... is softer?"
Honestly, Keith had thought it was getting firmer.
Lance crosses his arms over his chest and Keith knows he's made a mistake. "Ugh, they said to give it a couple weeks, but-"
Keith raises his brows. "They?"
"The company that makes my booty scrub."
Now Keith's sure his eyebrows have been lost in the area above his hairline. "Your what?"
"My booty scrub," Lance repeats like it's completely normal. Like he's mentioned it before. "I guess I should give it a few more-"
"Booty scrub," Keith manages, trying to understand. "What the hell is that?"
Lance grins. "Want me to show you?"
-
And that's how Shiro walks in on the two of them, Lance with his pants around his ankles, his body draped over Keith's lap, and Keith amply applying a pink, sweet-smelling body scrub directly onto Lance's cheeks.
They look up at him - Keith like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Lance with an innocent little smile. "Welcome home, 'Kashi."
"It's a beauty scrub!" Keith blurts. "For his skin."
Shiro just nods, biting back a chuckle. "Oh?" Though he has to admit, it would have been nice if Lance had asked /him/ for help, too.
"Oh, don't make that face," Lance snorts. "I'll let you apply the clay mask."
Keith's hands - which had somehow not stopped rubbing soothing circles into Lance's backside - froze. "There's a mask, too?!"
Needless to say, Lance never had to handle his own skincare regimen again.