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    Summary

    “Good to know you approve of how I’m spending your money.” Lance answers, reaching for the bank card resting on the desk and holding it up between two of his fingers, making sure Keith has plenty of time to recognize it. Not that he needs to, with the speed Keith snatches it back from him.

    “When did you-” Keith mutters under his breath before trailing off, eyebrows furrowed together. He looks properly puzzled, eyes flicking between the pickpocketed card and Lance’s face, something caught between disappointment and pride shining in those dark irises of his. “I think I need to stop letting you hang out with criminals, angel. They’re corrupting you.”

    “Maybe I’m corrupting them.” Lance counters with an indifferent shrug, reaching down to wind his fingers through Keith’s hair. He pulls him in closer to his body, until Keith’s cheek is resting against his inner thigh and Lance can feel each puff of warm breath between his legs.

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