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Keith doesn’t know how he got here.
Like he knows the logistics, but…
He hadn’t meant to catch the garrison trio sneaking off base. Running into him after some sneaking of his own and rather than let him slink back to his room they’d simply dragged him off with them.
But how he’d ended up at the raging party of a local house in town, two drinks down and on a freaking dance floor… he really doesn’t know.
He remembers Pidge promising to stay close but abandoning him the moment she found stoners playing Killbot Phantasm 1. And he remembers Hunk passing Keith a drink full of fruity punch and something more and telling him to, “just have fun.” Then somehow, between awkwardly standing in the corner trying not to be noticed and searching for the bathroom, Lance had found him and now here he was.
Caught in the gaze of a blue eyed boy who’s coaxing him to dance with silly moves and swiveling hips that are way too suggestive. It should be illegal how fluid he dances. Like the music extends from his very soul. Keith has been gone on this boy for a long time now but when Lance smirks at him and softly grabs his hand, his stuttering heart explodes.
It’s easier than it should be to move along. The strength of those drinks gratefully fuzzing his mind enough to leave ‘hesitant Keith’ at the door. And Lance’s smile the first time he sees Keith tap a foot and bounce his head is heady enough to have Keith preening.
After a time though, the music changes. What was once a happy, bouncing beat has turned slower, more sultry. Calling to mind the type of dancing meant for sweaty nightclubs and late summer evenings. Lance takes the switch with ease, movements matching the beat that vibrates down through Keith’s curling toes.
He’s mesmerizing to watch. Eyes falling shut and hips rolling in a way that has Keith’s mind in the gutter so fast his head rushes. Keith tracks the sweat that beads down Lance’s cheek. Watches it gather at the corner of his pretty pink lips before a tongue peeks out to sweep it up and Keith wants so badly to taste for himself.
Except…
Keith has never kissed a boy.
Or anyone.
And Lance is… flagrant.
A flirt.
If Keith wasn’t here now, he’d no doubt be dancing with someone else and the thought sends a flare of jealousy so hot through Keith’s sternum that he glides a little closer. Looks up at Lance’s widened eyes and swallows hard when deft fingers clasp his waist. Each print felt through his dampened shirt.
They’re almost chest to chest, their lower halves brushing as Lance’s hands smooth to cup Keith’s hips and guide them in a torturous circle. All the while never dropping Keith’s gaze. Holding violet in cerulean even as eyelids start to grow heavy.
Keith gasps when they make contact, pulled flush together. His hands sliding up Lance’s chest and clenching. Whether to keep himself steady or push Lance away he’s not sure, but his heart batters his chest and leaves him breathless.
“Keith,” Lance whispers.
He can’t speak, can’t move. Frozen in place with a lightness of head that spins out of control. That has Lance’s lids opening and his eyebrows scrunching. The fingers on his hip bone squeezing too hard.
“You okay?” Lance asks, pulling away when Keith doesn’t answer and he mourns the loss acutely.
Struggling past the tie of his tongue, Keith manages a shake and a choked out, “air.”
Lance doesn’t hesitate to pull him through the crowd. Branding grip tight on his wrist resting against Keith’s madly beating pulse.
There’s only two exits they know of, both blocked by too many people and Keith’s head is really starting to whirl now that they’re on the move. Lance chews his lip for one second in thought before ducking under a rope to bring him up stairs leading away from the party. No one sees them go and Keith is too dizzy to protest. Thankful as they slip into one of the bedrooms where cooler air does wonders for his fraying anxiety.
Without thinking, Keith sits. Sinking onto the bed and tipping back his head to close his eyes.
“Will this do?” Lance asks, hovering uncertainly a few feet away.
Keith hums but doesn’t look over. Appreciating the chance to clear his head. Pulse lowering with every deep breath. Dark quiet soothing his nerves.
There’s sounds of shuffling throughout the room, water rushing from a tap and then Lance is pressing a glass of water into Keith’s loose hand. He cracks an eye to see Lance concerned and on his knees in front of him and if he wasn’t so embarrassed he might have been helplessly endeared.
But then Lance tilts his head in a hesitant smile and scratch that, Keith is so very, very endeared. He brings the cup to his lips and ducks to hide his burgeoning blush.
“Better?” Lance asks when Keith finishes drinking. Blue eyes lingering on the space the cup had just been.
“Yeah.” Keith nods and then quieter, “Thanks.”
Satisfied Keith’s no longer about to pass out, Lance leans back on his heels. “Have a little too much to drink, hotshot?” he teases, with a cocky smirk that punches right through Keith’s gut.
Flushing harder, Keith looks away.
“Hey man.” He’s softer now. “It’s alright. We’ve all been there.”
“That’s not it,” Keith mumbles, picking at the sheets and refusing to look up.
It’s not until the silence of Lance confused and speechless stretches too long that Keith adds. “It was just,” he waves a hand, “you know, hot and… dancing and then…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “you.”
The confession sits heavy between them. Keith too afraid to chance a look and the air sparking when Lance says in a hushed voice, “Me?”
Keith can only nod once more, hunching a little as he raises a knee on the bed, half turned away from the boy at his feet.
But...
“Keith…”
He shakes his head.
“Keith.”
The bed dips beside him, a careful space left between them as Lance inches a hand across the woven bedspread until his fingers touch the tips of Keith’s own.
“Do you—” Lance sounds incredulous. “Do you like me?”
The disbelieving break in his voice is what gets Keith to meet his eyes. They shine in the light that peeks under the closed door. Hopeful and bright and it flutters through Keith’s ribs so that he’s mouthing a ‘yes’ before he’s even decided to expose himself.
Lance sucks in a breath, rushing forward to clasp Keith’s hand on the bed and grab the limp one in his lap. “I like you too. God, I’ve liked you for so long but you’re… well you .”
As if that explains anything but Keith is still stuck on I like you too, because never in his hopeless pining did he ever think Lance could feel the same. Lance, with his easy way of making friends and being the centre of attention. Lance, and his dorky love of vintage video games who riles Keith up at every opportunity.
“You…” Keith blinks, “you do?”
“Like so much.”
They stare at each other. Keith barely able to comprehend and Lance hardly believing his luck. Lance licks his lips, close enough for Keith to see individual lashes fan across cheekbones. Eyes dropping to the glistening light reflecting off newly slicked red. Hunger burns within him. An impulse to lean moving him forward as the careful space starts to disappear.
“Keith, can I—” Lance cracks as his breathing hitches. “Can I kiss you?”
It’s all Keith wants. All he’s wanted since Lance first emerged from the flight simulator with rosy cheeks, disheveled hair and gorgeous eyes alight with joy. But it’s just so much. Longing and butterflies and a growing realization that Keith has no idea what he’s doing.
In a flash of bitter self consciousness Keith turns his face last minute and Lance’s forehead knocks against the side of his head. Soft, precious lips meeting the skin behind his ear. It’s altogether worse and shockingly better. Keith letting out the tiniest whimper. Mortified and turned on beyond belief.
Lance isn’t deterred in the slightest. Nuzzling instead into curling hair and lips brushing when he rasps, “C’mon. Please, kiss me.”
Warm breath sinks through his pores, shivering down Keith’s spine and even his words are flushing red when he stumbles. “L-Lance.”
A thumb touches his chin. Lances face sliding closer to Keith’s. Every heartbeat a crash that climbs higher.
“Just a little,” Lance pleads in his ear. “Don’t you want to?”
Keith has to bite his lip to stop the embarrassing noise that wants to escape. His core melting with it.
Lance brings the thumb up to his lips. Starts at the corner and glides along their seams until they part beneath his touch. Each little sensation drawing them near. The heat between their bodies boiling until Keith has to grip Lance’s bicep to stop from shaking apart.
“Open up for me,” Lance commands and any restraint Keith might have shown flies out the window.
His eyes squeeze together, brows pinching and almost pained when the first sweet press of their mouths washes over him. Soft and insistent, they slide against one another in aching tenderness. Lance’s muffled moan dousing Keith in fiery flames. They break too quickly and Keith presses back, eager inexperience showing, but Lance’s hand gently traces the curve of his jaw until he’s cupping around the hinge and tilting. Mouths falling open and tongues sweeping in and Keith never thought it could be like this.
Like lava and ice floe warring together in the pit of his stomach. Like what he imagines flying for real is going to feel like. Free and exhilarating and everything he’s ever longed for.
It goes on forever, it lasts only seconds. It marks itself in Keith’s brain as the single most breathtaking moment of his life and then Lance pulls away. Keith’s opening eyes spotting the string of saliva connecting their lips before it breaks and he shivers anew.
His body follows Lance. Swearing to himself as he watches the heated haze clear from blue eyes that are starting to crack. “Sh-shit,” he breathes.
Lance stares at him as if he’s hung the moon. Flushed and awed. “Yeah?”
And they both just… need a second. Heaving breaths the only noise in an otherwise silent room.
Keith drops his head onto Lance’s shoulder, unable to handle a gaze so intense directed right at him and soon Lance is leaning into him. Warm palms gliding along the planes of his shoulders and drawing him close. Chin resting on top of Keith’s head.
And then he’s shaking. Frame bouncing enough that Keith gets dislodged and he gazes up to find Lance laughing.
Not mean or malicious but high and ecstatic.
“Holy shit,” he giggles. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
His laughter is contagious. A shy smile creeping across Keith’s face and chuckle rumbling his chest. “Why not?”
“Because you’re perfect!” Lance gushes. “Your smart and beautiful and insanely talented and way too fucking good for me.”
Keith’s never had a problem taking praise but when it’s capped with a statement so fundamentally wrong he definitely takes issue. Frowning as he places a hand over Lance’s heart. “Lance.”
But Lance waves him away, still light hearted. “It’s fine as long as I get to be near you.”
Something in Keith’s stomach drops and he straightens to touch Lance’s face. “Lance that’s not true.”
A little self deprecatingly, Lance shrugs. “It kind of is.”
And Keith needs to shut that down but he doesn’t know how. The only thing that comes to mind would lay his heart too far on his sleeve but when Lance has already done it, Keith bravely takes a chance.
“I think you’re perfect too,” he says, forcing himself to keep Lance’s face in view.
This time it’s Lance’s turn to light up like a Christmas tree and it’s so incredibly sweet to see that he soldiers on. “And you just said I’m smart, so…”
When Lance’s arms wrap back around and he’s once again pulled tight with a mouth against his own, he goes as if he’s done it all a million times before. Hoping that eventually he will have.
They leave the party shortly after. Drunk people and loud music kind of hampering the high they’re both currently riding. Though Keith’s dorm is in a different wing and sneaking back isn’t exactly easy, Lance insists on walking Keith safely home.
At the door, Keith finds his heart rate spiking back up when Lance steps towards him. Hand sliding a little lower than PG and tugging Keith up against him. But the kiss is more chaste than anything they’ve done that night and it leaves Keith sizzling and gnawing for more. The devious grin Lance gives making him think that’s just what Lance wants.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Keith runs a tongue against the inner seam of his lip and bats his eyelashes up at Lance. Pleased to see he affects Lance as well.
“Yeah,” he says. “I can’t wait.”