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with slurring words

Summary:

prompt: "You're so, so, so pretty."

(Keith gets drunk and Lance gets drowned in affection).

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Lance’s family has always been okay with him drinking. Not like, drinking himself to the hospital, but they were never fussy about the concept of Lance and alcohol. His father would let him take tiny sips of wine during family reunions and his mother would pour a small amount of beer whenever she and Lance’s older siblings were watching sports.

So, Lance can hold his liquor, he knows this.

He did not know, however, that Keith couldn’t.

“Okay, okay,” Hunk snickers, trying his best not to burst into laughter. “What about Sendak?”

“I slayed that bitch into half like a frikkn’ Fruit Ninja!” Keith chimes and takes another shot, throwing his head back. Lance follows his Adam's apple and swallows, his throat feeling dry.

“Honestly,” Keith continues, slamming the glass on the table. “He had it coming, who the fuck did he think he was throwing Shiro around like a fucking rubber band—”

“Hey!” Shiro says, probably trying to sound offended but it’s nothing more than amused.

“Wait, my turn!” Pidge calls, squeezing around the small crowd so they’re standing in front of him. “Keith, first you have to give me your word that you won’t kill me in the morning,” they say and take out their comm to record his answer.

“I promise,” Keith slurs, his eyes are half-lidded and tired.

“Back when we were at the castle, why were you crying on the kitchen floor?”

Keith doesn’t even blink. “Was havin’ a breakdown.”

“Why?”

“…I couldn’t reach the top shelf.”

“Oh my God,” Lance whispers, his chest on the edge of exploding because ohmygod what? Who gave him the right to be this cute?!

“Aww, buddy,” Hunk coos and leans down to give Keith a short but crushing hug. “You’re all tall now, you can reach any shelf you want!”

“Yeaah!” Keith whoops, happy and childish and Lance is grinning like a mad man. “Take that, short legs!” he yells, pointing at Pidge’s legs as soon as he’s free from Hunk. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, he adds. “Sorry, not your legs in particular, just short ones in general.”

“It’s okay,” they pat him on the shoulder, face unamused. “I’ll have mercy on you this time.”

Keith nods and reaches for another drink when Lance snatches it out of him.

“Okay, I think it’s time to call it a night,” Lance moves forward, grabbing Keith’s arm.

“Wait, no, I haven’t embarrassed him yet,” Shiro tells him, slurring some words as he pouts. God, was he a lightweight too?

“You can pursue your big bro duties tomorrow,” Lance says, swinging Keith’s arm over his shoulder. He hears Shiro huff. Lance should get these two to drink more often, the obnoxious food fight they had only minutes ago is worth a fortune.

“Lance!” Keith cheers and his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree, like he’s not looking at Lance but starlight, and Lance is so far gone for this boy.

“Yep, that’s me,” he smiles sweetly, leading him out of the main lobby.

“It’s youuu,” he drawls, squishing his nose into Lance’s cheek and pressing a finger to the boy’s chest. “Lancey Lance.”

“Oh my God, babe,” Lance thinks he might die, who knew drunk Keith was so goddamn adorable.

Keith leans onto Lance, following him into the bedroom, all the while humming or whistling or talking sweet nothings. Lance feels his chest sparkle up, feels the warmth travel through him. He helps Keith take off his shoes and settles him on the bed.

“Are you feeling sick?” he asks, brushing away the boy’s dark hair away from his face. Keith’s cheeks are a soft color of pink and his eyes are glossy, more sparkly than usual.

“Nope,” he answers, popping the ‘p’ in an adorable way. He’s looking up at Lance from where he's lying on the bed, the sweetest, softest smile tugging at his lips. His expression is so open, so earnest and fond, it does no good to Lance’s rapid heartbeat.

“Still sleep on your side, okay, we don’t want you choking on your barf.”

“I like you,” Keith says, out of the blue. Lance’s eyes widen with amusement, his cheeks feeling warmer.

“I like you too, babe,” he says, slightly laughing.

“Like I really, really like you,” Keith shakes his head and his face becomes so thoughtful and serious, like he’s trying to prove a hard point, Lance can’t help but grin at him with all the love he can muster. “I like you thiiiis much,” Keith adds and stretches his arms to the sides, showing how much he likes him.

“Oh my— Keith, you cute little bean,” he coos, leaning down to press a firm kiss on the other’s cheek.

“You’re the best. Boyfriend. Ever!” Keith chimes again, probably not planning to stop his surge of love. Lance laughs, now fully blushing and grinning ear to ear. He can practically hear his own heartbeat echoing. “And you’re like, very pretty,” he adds like an afterthought.

“I think you’re pretty, too,” says Lance, fighting the urge to cover up his face.

Keith is affectionate, but never like this. Sober Keith is collected and cool and knows exactly how to fluster Lance into pieces. Drunk Keith is giddy and cute and still manages to turn him into a fine shade of red.

Keith sighs, he roams his dark eyes around Lance’s features, as if memorizing his face all over again. The intensity of his gaze, the heaviness of the emotions bottled into those deep indigos steal Lance’s breath away, make him unable to do anything but stare back.

Keith sighs, again. “You’re so, so, so pretty,” he whispers, reaching a hand to stroke at Lance’s cheek. “So beautiful.”

“Keith,” Lance laughs, but it comes out more like a whine. He’s so overwhelmed with how dopey Keith’s smile is and how his eyes are looking at Lance like he’s the only thing Keith wants to see.

“What? You are!” he frowns, now cupping the side of Lance’s face. “You’re the most gorgeous, the most handsome, the most amazing, the sweetest and smartest and niceest and amazing and pretty and amazing and—”

“Okay, I get it, I’m good,” Lance pipes, voice on the high side and a little breathless. He covers Keith’s mouth because that’s the only way the boy will stop talking, apparently.

Keith mumbles something, but it’s lost into Lance’s hand.

“What?” he asks, lifting his hand so Keith can speak.

“I said, you’re not good, sweetheart, you’re GREAT!” he screams at the end, making Lance yelp. Keith beams up at him, seeming to be proud of himself and Lance feels the last of his strength leave him. He collapses on top of Keith, burring his face into the other’s neck and groans. With feeling.

Keith laughs and pats him on the head.

Notes:

hey! hope you enjoyed this mindless fluff!

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