I wrote it after watching s8 and listening to Faded on repeat, so yeah. It turned out kinda angsty and unresolved. I might add another part from Lance's perspective at some point though.
This thing Keith had with Lance. It wasn't healthy. In fact, when he felt self-destructive enough and started thinking about what it really was, the little nasty voice of reason in his head kept whispering that one day it would kill him. Not literally, perhaps, but close. Then again, with Lance, you could never be certain... of pretty much anything.
Just this morning he kept pestering Keith in class, completely ignoring the lecture and stage-whispering to a flock of girls seated in a row above how Keith's mullet was the most tragic fashion disaster that had made it back. As they giggled Keith did his best to keep his cool and stared straight at the professor, scowling so hard he was probably making the old man uncomfortable.
At lunch Lance tried pursuing the same girls because the tall dark blonde had apparently caught his interest, and after the two of them bought their respective meals he made a beeline to their table. Keith knew he was up to no good and would earn himself a slap or an indignant yell, but he followed him anyway. He always did.
What he didn't expect, however, was to get splashed with Lance's vanilla milkshake when Lance stumbled right in front of the girls and, trying to save his face, made a crude joke about how Keith was so excited to see them again it was written all over him in white.
Lance knew Keith was gay. And lactose intolerant. So he shouldn't have been so surprised when Keith landed a precise hit into his solar plexus and left him there to cough and moan in misery.
That incident seemed far away now as they were leaving the third bar for the night, Lance's hot alcohol-induced body wedged tightly against Keith's, who felt like he was supporting half of his weight.
"Girls are meeeean," Lance whined into his ear, lips touching the lobe so wet and intimate it made Keith's heart beat faster and his toes curl. The bastard knew ears were Keith's weak spot and did it on purpose, definitely. "After y' left me there they said I was a jerk and ignored me while I suffered," his words were slurred but the betrayal sounded in them loud and clear.
"Yeah? Maybe you shouldn't act like one around them," Keith pulled him to the side when they were passing a lamp post, otherwise Lance risked to walk right into it. Keith wondered if perhaps he should've just let him.
"I'm only actin' like a jerk around you," he said breathily, nose poking Keith in the cheek and then sliding along his jawline, as if he were a cat rubbing himself up against him, marking him as his. His toy, probably, because he always did whatever he wanted and Keith never said no. He just couldn't.
"Good thing you got a break from me then," he said distractedly, looking for a bench to deposit Lance's heavy body. They were crossing a little park on their way to the dorms and Keith could use a break.
"Didn' wanna," Lance mumbled, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket. He always got a bit bratty when he had too much to drink, but Keith didn't mind. In such cases his high alcohol-tolerance automatically made him the one in charge since he still had his head straight on his shoulders. Lance also got an awful lot clingy and handsy, but Keith didn't mind that either. In fact, he was looking forward to it.
His searching gaze finally locked down on an empty clean-looking bench in a nice secluded part of the park, though at this time of night anywhere was private enough. As soon as he sat Lance down he got pulled right beside him and in a moment found himself enveloped in a clumsy embrace.
"Ya ma good man, Keith, ma loyal mullet," he giggled and Keith huffed, even though he didn't feel an ounce of irritation. The warm weight of the arms around him was too pleasant for him to be bothered by Lance's nonsense. "I sh'd call you Sir Mullet, dontcha think?"
"How about just Keith," he suggested, giving Lance a lopsided grin.
"Hmm," he made a show of contemplating the idea. "Keithhh-, Keithh-s, Keithh-y," suddenly he shifted on the bench and lifted himself gracelessly before dropping right into Keith's lap. "Are you feelin' kissy, Keith?" his eyes with wide-blown pupils were glistening and full of mischief.
"I-," Keith gulped but didn't get to finish because Lance's lips were already on his, and before he knew it he got hold of Lance's waist and pulled him closer.
The kiss turned heated in an instant as Lance's hot tongue slipped inside Keith's ready mouth and rubbed deliciously against its wet counterpart. His hands were not idle for long either, and soon he was grasping handfuls of Keith's longer hair and pulling at the mullet he claimed to hate so much. Honestly, after giving it such frequent attention Lance could just admit he had a hair kink.
They continued to make out right there in the middle of the park, too caught up in each other to hold back loud panting and hungry smacking noises. If someone were to stumble upon them now Keith would simply flip them off and continue ravishing Lance's neck and groping his firm ass to his heart's content, kneading it with such force he was probably leaving bruises. Lance was digging it though because he was letting out these little breathless moans and grinding against his jean-clad thigh, which turned Keith on like hellfire.
"Hah, you're so eager," Lance teased, even if his voice was airy and his face looked like he was high on something. Well, technically he was, on a heavy dose of fruity cocktails.
"Says you, you're dry humping my leg, you know," Keith punctuated it with a bite at Lance's jugular, making him gasp.
"M-maybe we should take it somewhere private, eh?" Lance seemed to have come to his senses a little because he stilled his rocking movements and started looking around anxiously. Keith wouldn't let him get cold feet so fast. He needed that lusty fire burning inside Lance bright enough to help him overcome his inhibitions. Keith knew Lance wanted it, he just needed a little push to let go.
"Why, you wanna do nasty things?" he asked, strategically pushing his thigh higher and adding delicious pressure on Lance's hard cock. It proved to be quite effective and Lance resumed his grinding, pulling at Keith's hair as he went.
"Mm, yeah," he moaned, "wanna do nasty things with you," that was more like it. Keith took hold of Lance's face and brought him into another passionate kiss. As they were kissing, he carefully pushed Lance off his lap and helped him stand up when he wobbled on his feet. The trip to the dorms would be a challenge but they weren't that far away now.
"Your place or mine?" he asked between kisses, letting his hands wander occasionally underneath Lance's stretched out sweater.
"Y-yours," Lance said, then after a couple of steps added with a cheeky grin, "I wanna scream my throat raw tonight and your neighbour sleeps like a rock."
'Oh, you will,' Keith thought and pulled Lance forward, urging him to walk faster.
—
If Keith could pat himself on the back for getting to the dorms in record time, he would but his hands were occupied.
Once they were in the privacy of his room he hurried to take off his jacket and help Lance lose his sweater, as well as his jeans and boxers. Then he left Lance on his bed for a bit to undress himself and make a quick trip to the bathroom to retrieve lube and condoms.
When he returned he was met with a picture of Lance on his back with legs splayed shamelessly wide, stroking his hard-on and moaning softly into Keith's pillow. Occasionally his hand would slip past his sack to rub at his taint and tight hole, not really pushing fingers inside but definitely getting there.
Sometimes Lance preferred to pound his ass. Today, however, he obviously wanted to get some dick. Keith suspected he enjoyed it more that way, even tried to point it out once, but Lance shot him down immediately and ignored him for the rest of the day for good measure. So Keith didn't bring it up again.
Actually, he didn't bring up anything of what they did between the sheets on the nights like this when Lance was sober. For all he knew, to Lance it could be just a matter of convenience and Keith was no more than a fuck-buddy in his book. Still, he had to trust him enough to let him do practically anything after a couple of shots. And God was that a lot.
Keith didn't know if it was Lance's insecurity or plain denial of his own sexual preferences but for some reason he only ever initiated sex between them when heavily inebriated. And the sex was amazing, but it didn't mean Keith didn't want to hold hands with Lance or kiss him chastely on the lips when they met after separate classes. He just knew Lance wouldn't accept it, would deny any idea of romance possible between them despite the fact that their mutual attraction was practically glaring him in the face. He wasn't ready for it yet, and Keith feared that he never would.
But what did it matter? He himself knew that he loved Lance and if this was all that Lance was willing to give him, who was he to refuse.
He climbed on the bed, slipping between Lance's legs and running his hands along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Lance regularly shaved there and the feeling of soft hairless surface against his palms was always exciting for Keith. It reminded him that he was the only one who got access to this part of Lance, who cared enough to enjoy seeing him like this. Open and vulnerable and craving a firm touch. He may pretend he was all tough macho around the girls, but here in the dark his act fell away and he squirmed and whimpered, asking Keith for more.
He didn't need to use words even, Keith already knew what he wanted. And the exact way he wanted it too.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning in to plant a kiss on Lance's temple. "Need a hand?" Lance turned his head and pecked him clumsily, missing the mark and getting only the side of his mouth. But he was determined and tried again, this time catching his bottom lip and humming as he bit at it and pulled.
So today Lance was playful. Keith could do 'playful' alright.
He scooted closer and put one hand on Lance's broad chest, pushing him down and reaching for the lube he had dumped on the mattress. In all this time Lance had never stopped pumping himself, and now that he heard Keith uncap the bottle his pace quickened a little. Then he bent one leg at the knee and dug his heel into the meat of Keith's thigh, urging him to get to the fun part already.
Give him what he wants. But not quite.
"So impatient," Keith murmured and caught Lance's fist, pulling long fingers away and replacing them with his own, generously slicked ones. When he started moving his wrist the glide was much smoother and the sensations more pleasant. Keith could tell because Lance's eyes rolled into the back of his head for a moment and his mouth fell slack at the stark contrast.
At first he just lay there panting and thrusting instinctively into Keith's wet fist as loud unrestrained moans left his throat. But after a couple of minutes his half-lidded gaze became more focused and he started studying Keith's face through the lashes, roaming over Keith's chest and torso until his eyes fell on the hand moving up and down with a steady rhythm - not too fast and not too slow, not quite teasing but definitely not enough to get Lance off. He furrowed his finely plucked eyebrows and reached down to join Keith's hand, trying to get him to pick up the pace.
Put him on the edge but don't let him topple over. Yet.
Keith allowed Lance to have his way for a little while, then stopped and gripped him firmly at the base, choking out his impending orgasm without mercy. Lance whined, predictably, scrunching up his cute slightly upturned nose in displeasure.
"Shh, not so fast," Keith gently rubbed his cheek, running a thumb across the rosy cheekbone, enjoying how flaming hot the smooth skin was to the touch.
Lance's hazy gaze was boring into his face, as if to ask 'what the hell are you waiting for', but Keith wanted the moment to last a little longer. He wanted to memorise every tiny detail for when the finals drew closer and Lance got more serious about his schedule, avoiding invitations to get shit-faced like the plague. Of course, Keith could find a decent hook-up to ride out his frustrations but lately he'd been preferring his own two hands and a great deal of imagination. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he really was in that deep.
Anyway, right now was not the time to get all sentimental. They had much better things to do.
Use an element of surprise.
Keith looked into Lance's slightly unfocused lust-blown eyes one last time before swiftly sliding down his body and taking half of his cock into his mouth. His reward was instantaneous and came in the form of Lance's unhindered shout 'Holy shit!' that resonated off the walls and was pure music to Keith's ears. It was followed immediately by a hand firmly gripping his hair and pulling him further down in an attempt to amplify the intense pleasure.
To be honest, Keith was never a big fan of sucking cock before Lance. He enjoyed getting head just like any horny teenager, sure, but going down on someone he hooked up with only for a night or two wasn't something Keith was willing to practice much. So he didn't. The same went for rimming and any other mouth-on-a stranger's-genitals action. And well, Keith was nimble enough with his fingers so there hadn't been any complaints, but with Lance it was different. He was no stranger to Keith, nor was he a one-night stand. They weren't dating either, that was true, and yet for Lance Keith was ready to cross his own boundaries to make sure he kept coming to him for more.
And it actually worked so far. Funny thing: a drunk Lance was very easy to please and to impress. When their 'nights of passion' just started and Keith didn't know what got him off he just assumed that blowing tipsy (read wasted) Lance would be the best way to go about it. Especially since he still wasn't one hundred percent sure at that time that Lance really wanted to have sex with him. So Keith assumed that if at some point he decided to end things a blowjob (or five) was easier to brush off as a drunken accident than going all the way.
After one particular time, however, when Lance suggested to give something in exchange and jerked Keith off, Keith saw the green light he needed to start exploring Lance a little deeper, first with his mouth and fingers and eventually with his cock. It took him almost half a year to get to this point but now Keith was proud to say he knew the exact pace, twist of the wrist and swirl of the tongue that drove Lance mad with desire. He also knew exactly how long Lance could take the sweet torture before he arrived to Keith's favourite part.
"Ah, yeah baby, don't stop, ah! Don't stop," feverish muttering came from above just as Keith started rubbing at Lance's hole with firm strokes, breaching the warm pucker with the tip of his finger from time to time. He loved teasing Lance and hearing him moan out his pleasure. What he didn't like though, was the generic 'baby' he used. Keith pulled off with an obscenely wet pop.
"No, Lance, I'm not just some 'baby'," he never withdrew his hand and while he spoke slid one whole finger in, enjoying Lance's little gasp. "I have a name and you better use it," he added another finger and pumped them a few times in and out to make a point. No one knew Lance's body like he did, it would be only fair if he admitted it.
Get him begging for it.
"K-Keith," Lance looked at him pleadingly, blinking through the lusty haze, but no, that stuttering whisper wouldn't do. Keith crooked and dragged his fingers, pressing expertly on the small bundle of nerves. "Keith, please!"
'Yes, that's more like it,' Keith's chest felt warm and he grinned at Lance, even if he had thrown his head back and couldn't see him. Then, without warning, he resumed sucking Lance off, hollowing his cheeks and giving the head firm swipes of his flattened tongue each time he got to it. Meanwhile his fingers worked to stretch Lance's tight passage, sliding easily now, so Keith added another finger.
"Hmmm, Keith baby, you're so good, always so good to me," Lance whimpered sweetly, and Keith was ready to ignore his slip. It wasn't like the first time any way. They ended up at Lance's dorm after a wild frat party and Keith just knew Lance was trying to picture a girl as he watched him bob his head between his legs, black hair falling out of the little ponytail and spilling over his shoulders.
To think of it, Lance was always eager to play pretend but Keith would have none of it here, in his bed, where Lance came willingly. Even he had his limits.
Be gentle, but unyielding.
"Keith! Ha-ah!" a keen followed by a punched-out moan was Keith's cue to pull out his fingers and get himself ready for the main event. Lance whined pitifully, bemoaning his release that was so close and once again denied.
"I'll give you what you want," Keith rolled the condom on his shaft, lubing it generously, and ran a thumb over Lance's hungry loosened hole, teasing it one last time before gripping himself at the base and pushing the tip of his cock against it. "You want this, right?"
"Mmm-yeah," Lance bucked his hips, eager to feel the stretch and pleasant fullness that Keith's cock would bring, but Keith kept him in place with a firm hold on his waist.
"You gotta ask for it, can you do that?" he caught Lance's desperate gaze and held it to get his point across.
"P-please," Lance breathed out. Then he reached for Keith with both arms, wound them around his shoulders and, pulling him closer, leaned in to whispered right into Keith's ear, "Fill me up."
Warm breath sent a shiver down Keith's spine and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to restrain himself and not plunge in right away. But then Lance had to lick his lobe and give it a playful nip, and that was what did it.
In one quick motion Keith pushed Lance back on the bed and, bracing himself on one arm, guided his cock into Lance's waiting entrance. He breached the tight ring of muscle without much resistance and then continued sinking into the delicious heat inch by wonderful inch. The pressure was so good and felt so right Keith held his breath as he watched Lance's face scrunch up in pleasure. Even after so many nights it never failed to amaze him how beautifully responsive Lance was and how eagerly he took him whole.
"Ohh," Keith bottomed out and Lance crossed his legs on his lower back, pressing him impossibly close. Keith gave him a few moments to adjust and then started moving slow and deep, locating Lance's prostate and adjusting his hips to make sure he hit it with every thrust. Lance's hands kept wandering over his back and shoulders, and each time Keith got him particularly good sank his blunt nails into Keith's skin, almost breaking it. He'd do it eventually, Keith knew. He even anticipated it, always glad to bear at least some evidence of their unspoken arrangement.
Lance's scratch marks took a while to heal and stung a little the first couple of days. Keith couldn't wait to get them again. And leave a some of his own.
"Mm, yeah, jus' like that," Lance mumbled, meeting Keith's hips halfway. Keith could feel he was trying to set a faster tempo, because that was how he liked both getting and giving it, whereas Keith preferred to draw it out. But only with Lance.
That way he could really take in Lance's blissed out expression and watch his body writhe in pleasure underneath him. Still, he couldn't hold himself back for too long and after one particularly powerful thrust set a brutal pace, pistoning in and out of the stretched wet hole with extra force and precision.
Make him yours.
Lance's voice grew in volume and in pitch, and each time Keith hit his sweet spot he cried out loud enough to wake up even his apathetic neighbour, along with the rest of the people who were unfortunate enough to live on the same floor. He didn't care. All he could focus on right now was Lance's bare neck and chest that were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and seemed to be tempting him, begging to be tasted and marked. Keith leaned in, not slowing down for a second, and was just about to dive lower to suck a string of hickeys down to the perky brown nipples when he met Lance's hooded eyes that were trained on him.
He seemed to be watching him, waiting for his next move. The spell was quickly broken, however, when Lance sucked in a sharp breath and moaned again but not before giving Keith a slight nod.
This was something new. Normally Lance would bitch to him about any leftover evidence, especially when Keith was bold enough to leave a hickey somewhere Lance couldn't easily cover. But this time it looked like he didn't mind, even encouraged Keith to take a bite of him. And Keith would, with pleasure.
His thrusts became shorter but remained just as fast. Keith could feel his orgasm building, so he didn't hesitate another second and attacked Lance's neck, sucking hard at the flushed damp skin and applying gentle pressure with his teeth. If Lance was letting him do it he would go all out. His next target was Lance's collarbone, which he bit first, getting a startled yelp from Lance, and then kissed to soothe the pain. After that he nipped at his chest, placing a few hickeys over the toned pecs, and finally got to Lance's nipples, latching onto one little nub and sucking it hard. Lance keened and Keith felt a familiar stinging sensation on his back where eight pretty pink lines were now burning bright and fresh.
That little exquisite pain was all it took for Keith to start falling over the edge. He lost his rhythm and rammed into Lance with new urgency, determined to get him off before his own orgasm hit him. Luckily, Lance didn't need much more than a few strokes at his neglected length and he was trembling and gasping, milking Keith as he tensed and squeezed his cock inside.
Coming together with Lance was amazing and Keith kept looking at him with rapt attention, drinking in the beautiful picture to conjure it up in his lonely fantasies. Because right now Lance was perfect: his tightly shut eyes with trembling eyelashes, his bright red kiss-swollen lips, his long neck and his firm toned chest, now generously covered in Keith's fresh marks.
Keith kept watching him as he rode out his orgasm, pressing into the warm welcoming body the last few times. He wished he could stay inside longer but he was softening already and didn't want the condom to slip, so he pulled out and rolled off of Lance, who had fallen back on the bed in a relaxed heap. When Keith got up, he did it very reluctantly because he knew that by the time he took care of himself in the bathroom and came back with a wet towel Lance would already be fast asleep.
That was the usual routine on the nights like this and Keith shouldn't have felt disappointed when he returned and found Lance curled comfortably on the side of the bed, but he did. There was a bright side to it though: Lance was out cold till morning, which meant that if Keith spent another hour cuddling his naked body and brushing his fingers over the blooming tender marks he wouldn't meet much resistance.
As Keith lay there, spooning Lance from behind and pressing his nose into the crook of his neck, he breathed in his unique scent in long deep breaths. He always did that to memorise it better because he knew he would miss it badly the very next day when Lance would leave before Keith woke up. He'd miss it even worse when he'd see him at class because Lance would be so close and yet absolutely unapproachable. He'd crack jokes at Keith's worn out look and tease him, saying that he didn't know how to drink and got the worst hangovers.
Only Keith wasn't hung over at all, he was just hung up on the cruellest, intentionally oblivious idiot and didn't have the guts to tell him that to his face because he was too afraid he might lose him altogether.
'I'm just pathetic,' was Keith's last thought before he drifted off to sleep, lulled by Lance's soft breathing and the pleasant warmth of his skin.
It was also his first thought when he woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a ringing silence that greeted him.
Lance was predictably gone.