The Best Glitch

Lance straightened the pillow on the chair; it looked better if it was on a slight angle. He then made his way to the couch and rearranged those pillows to match. Stepping back, he surveyed the room and frowned, something was off. He couldn't place his finger on what it was but something was definitely messing with the feng shui of the place. Maybe he needed to stir up the bowl of colourful glass beads on the coffee table? Or maybe the shades needed to be adjusted again? Or maybe he should change the smell in his air freshener?

He settled for moving the pillows one last time.

Keith pulled his bike into one of the visitor spots in front of the large apartment building. The app on his phone beeped and a soothingly British woman announced that he'd arrived at his destination. He took a deep breath, double checked his hair in the rear-view mirror, and popped a listerine breath strip in his mouth.

This wasn't the first time he'd used this app, but each time was a surprise and some were better than others. The whole point was to be anonymous. It stripped everything out of dating apps that you'd think were essential to a dating app. No bios, no contacting the other, not even a photo. You simply filled out a questionnaire and how far you were willing to travel, then BOOM! the app matched you with another profile. Even after being matched, all you'd receive is a username, not even a real name or an address!

See, the app featured a built in GPS that directed you to the other's device, not their home - their device. This meant Keith's hookup could be at a hotel, a friends house, a bar, or even a random bench in a park - you just didn't know! According to the creators it was "all in the name of anonymity". The benefit was that he could walk up, take one look at the dude, and 'nope' out of there without fear that some rando had his name and contact info.

On the contrary, if you liked a match, it was up to you to exchange information. And if you failed to do so? Well, you might not see each other ever again because the main selling point was: You'll Never Match Twice!

Lance stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He'd used this app before, obviously, but he'd never set his preferences to include 'male' until now. It was a little scary, and he kinda sorta maybe wished that he'd chosen to head to a hotel or, like, a park or something beforehand. But here he was, at his own private residence like an absolute idiot, waiting on some unknown hookup who could turn out to be either a chick or a dude. They'd just show up and … what? He'd offer them a drink? Maybe - he did have a few bottles of wine. Mierda! He should chill the white - or maybe beer? What if it's a guy and he wants beer? Is it sexist to assume that a guy would prefer beer over wine? Is it also sexist to assume a woman prefers wine over beer?

A knock on the door jerked him back to reality and the stark realization that no drinks had been chilled.

Lance rushed out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over himself in the process, and stopped abruptly just before the door to regain his cool. He took a deep breath, then another, and smoothed his hand through his hair. Winning-smile in place, Lance reached for the handle to open the door and possibly invite a total stranger inside. Yeah - this was not a smart move on his part and the absolute last time Lance lets himself think with his dick instead of his head.

The door creaked open and he leaned his weight against it, casually framing himself as flatteringly as possible. He smiled wide and clicked a finger gun in the direction of - DIOS MIO!

Lance stared at Keith in shock, totally justified shock. "Wha - H - How?" he breathed as the air was knocked out of him.

"Wha - H - How?" Lance gaped in the doorway. That's right - LANCE! The stupidly hot, incredibly annoying, unbearably loud friend of that big guy that hangs out with Pidge all the time. What was his name? Hank? Keith stared back at the flabbergasted Cuban as he sifted through his own massive pile of shock … and slight excitement? How did that feeling get there?

"The app matched us." he responded intelligently. In typical Lance fashion the other threw his head back with a pained groan and an equally dramatic eye roll.

"Well DUH, Keith!" He said, flailing his arms wildly. "I mean like, HOW though. Like -" he gestured aggressively between them "- HOW !"

"I'm gay, Lance. You knew that." Keith deadpanned.

"Uh - NO I did NOT!" He practically yelled.

"Whatever." Keith replied. "Must have been a glitch." He muttered and turned to leave, reaching for his phone to hit the decline button on the app. A soft hand tentatively grasped his elbow, not pulling him back, but definitely stopping his retreat. Keith turned willingly.

"I didn't mean you should go, necessarily. I just - I meant, like, we know each other. How did we match?"

"I don't think the app gives a shit, Lance."

"Right. Right - it couldn't know." He shifted uncomfortably in the entry for a moment, clearly waiting for Keith to say or do something, but Lance had been the one to pull him back so as far as Keith was concerned the ball was in his court. "Do you - uh, wanna come in then? Hang out for a bit?" He looked off to the side as he asked, his hand reaching behind his head to rub at the back of his neck, and the soft blush on his cheeks gave away his embarrassment at the whole situation.

Keith shrugged. "Sure." he said as nonchalantly as possible, and pushed past Lance into the small apartment.

It was neat and tidy, well decorated, and smelled fresh and crisp; like a beach. The walls were white and the furniture was mostly shades of blue and grey. On the driftwood and glass coffee table sat a bowl filled with colourful glass beads; utterly useless aside from the very specific touch they added to the aesthetic of the place. How very Lance.

Keith placed his helmet on the blue armchair and removed his leather jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the back of said chair and nearly knocking one of the white decorative pillows to the ground. Speaking of which, now that he looked at the furniture a little closer he could see that there were four ridiculous pillows on the couch, an extra large one on the floor leaning against the couch, and two more on a loveseat - plus the one he'd nearly knocked off the chair. The pillows sat on a precise angle across the corners of the couch, completely eliminating the edge cushions as potential seating options, and forcing Keith to sit right smack in the middle of the sofa. He didn't like it, but at least the furniture was comfy.

Lance stood in the doorway a little longer than was probably acceptable as he watched Keith toss down his helmet without a second thought; his leather jacket following shortly after. It was all just so casual, like nothing about this was out of the ordinary, like he randomly showed up at the homes of people he knew with the sole purpose of sex all the time.

Huh, he didn't really know Keith all that well if he was being honest. It was totally plausible that this was just another Friday night for him and not at all as big of a deal as it was for Lance. Because, for Lance, this wasn't just some guy he knew , this was Keith! Keith the unfairly hot guy that sometimes hung around their little group when it convenienced him. Keith the supernaturally cool guy who didn't care about anything and was above showing any emotions. Keith who'd sit on the edge of a table listening to his angry music as he brooded and stared off all glare-y and sexy at a spot of wall or perhaps a grass blade that had somehow wronged him. Keith who was miles out of his league.

But he hadn't left. Okay, he'd tried to go - but that was only because he thought Lance wasn't going to be into this, which was apparently crazy because why wouldn't Lance be into this? Keith was hot. Like, so so so hot. Like, show up at Lance's place on a motorcycle wearing a leather jacket kind of hot. Shit, when did he get this stupid crush on Keith?

ALCOHOL! Lance needed a drink! He shook his head to clear out the epiphany he didn't feel like having, and made his way to the kitchen. White wine and beer should really be chilled (which his aren't) so that just left Merlot or tequila.

"Fancy or effective?" he called across the counter and risked a glance over his shoulder at the lack of response. Keith was staring at him with his face all screwed up in confusion. "Bonjour or Hola?" He asked again and watched the other's face twist even further.

Lance chuckled to himself as he reached for the bottle of red - best to start off slow. He grabbed a couple glasses but hesitated as he held the corkscrew. Did pouring glasses of wine make it seem like he wanted to continue with the hookup? Did pouring tequila instead make it seem like he just wanted to get wasted? He kinda wanted both.

He poured the red.

A glass of cheap red wine landed in front of Keith on the coffee table. He stared at it for a moment, trying to discern what Lance was getting at. Why would he give him wine? Did he want to continue as if they didn't go to the same college and run in the same circle? Or was he just being a courteous host? Fuck, Keith hated navigating complex social interactions. He wanted to just ask - just spit it out and say ' yo, Lance, what gives?' but obviously he couldn't do that - it was considered rude. So instead he smiled at the sexy Cuban and reached for the one thing that would definitely make him do something he might regret.

The wine wasn't as cheap as he thought and went down pretty smooth. It carried a strong note of cherry with just a hint of vanilla. He licked his lips, it was actually pretty good stuff.

"This is actually pretty good stuff." He said and Lance nearly choked on his sip.

"You're surprised?" He asked, seeming torn between offended and amused. Keith just shrugged. "I can be fancy sometimes you know." Lance continued, having apparently settled on offended. Keith said nothing; he merely took another sip, earning a huff from the other.

The silence dragged, inching closer and closer to uncomfortable, and Keith steadily drained his glass. The wine was smooth and went down without much thought and before long, his drink was empty, his lips were tingling with numbness, and his cheeks were warm with blush.

"Refill?" Lance asked, reaching for his glass on the table. Keith knew better, he knew if he had another he wouldn't be able to ride home, but the wine was actually delicious, and the company wasn't terrible, and this couch would probably be pretty comfortable to sleep on. So he nodded and earned a smile.

And what a smile it was. Not Lance's typical thousand watt beam, nor his suave and sexy grin, but instead just a small and mildly unsure upturn at the corner of his mouth. It was genuine, it was open, it was vulnerable, and it was surprisingly endearing. Keith smiled back.

Lance returned with the newly filled glasses and set them on the table. Since neither of them were really speaking the atmosphere had taken a dive. He decided the best way to rectify this was to let Keith feel like he didn't need to talk, like they could just sit there and drink their wine and like, chill. So after he set down the glasses, Lance turned on his speaker, opening Spotify and playing some soft violin in the background. He was going all in on the fancy and kinda wished he had brandy - and cigars! Then they could be proper gentlemen.

Speaking of being gentlemen, was it rude that Lance had decided to sit as far away from Keith as physically possible and had chosen the loveseat, a separate piece of furniture entirely? Should he move closer so the other didn't feel like Lance was uncomfortable with him being there? They were kinda friends after all.

He plunked himself down on the couch, and smiled reassuringly at Keith, letting him know it was cool for the two of them to hang out for once.

Soft classical music eased into the background and Keith was suddenly very thankful that he already had the "Asian Flush" going on and could totally blame his blushing on the wine. Thank god for genetics. He sipped at the smooth liquid and felt the renewed warmth tingle through his veins as he relaxed into the couch, drink in hand.

Lance sat down beside him then, and smiled warmly over his own glass of wine. "Soothing isn't it?" He said, his voice quiet, and Keith had to blink to remain focused. He watched Lance lick a drip of wine off his lips, leaving them glistening in the low light.

The Cuban played with the stem of his glass, running his middle finger and thumb up and down absentmindedly … or maybe not? The wine had been his idea and he'd been the one to put on the soft music then move to sit closer to Keith. Clearly they'd both set their preferences to men or they never would have matched. He'd played it off as a glitch at the door but it was starting to seem like maybe Lance really wanted this - wanted him. Was Lance coming on to him?

Yes, he had to be; there was no other explanation. But did that mean that Keith wanted to go through with it? He'd agreed to come inside under the impression that they'd just hangout, since he wasn't getting re matched this late at night anyways. But (and maybe this was the Merlot talking), he'd definitely be lying if he said he'd never thought about it - about Lance, in that way.

Admittedly Lance was very attractive, Keith wouldn't deny that, but he was also Lance and that meant he was kind of annoying and also straight! Keith had never heard Lance even so much as mention the remote chance that he was into guys - and yet, here they were.

A tanned hand landed on his knee and squeezed slightly. "It's nice, just the two of us." He said, smiling at Keith with the glass of wine between his lips. He took a small sip and Keith felt himself hold his breath. "We never really hang out alone. You know? It's nice." he took another sip and this time he looked up through thick lashes to meet Keith's eyes as he swallowed down the wine. Fuck. This was happening wasn't it? Lance clearly wanted him. And Keith, he couldn't deny that he was very into this version of Lance.

He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and placed the empty glass on the table, reaching over to gingerly take Lance's from him and set it next to his own. He then moved ever so slightly closer, angling his body to face the other and watched those stunning blue eyes fly wide open as he leaned in.

The kiss came out of nowhere. One minute he was trying to get Keith to relax by saying he enjoyed his company and the next Keith's lips were on his.

It only took a moment for the rush to flood his veins, setting his every nerve on edge, and stealing the breath from his lungs. Keith was a pretty decent kisser and Lance was way more into this than he'd thought. It was one thing to admit he found Keith hot, it was a whole other ball game to admit he was getting turned on by Keith kissing him.

He shifted his position to allow for a better connection and Keith responded instantly. The kiss, which had started out as a tentative question, morphed into a much more intense demand now that he'd been granted permission. Keith's hand reached out to touch his shoulder, sliding up his neck, and settling at the base of his skull. He laced his fingers in Lance's short brown hair, curling his hand into a small fist, and pulling slightly in the process. It was hot. The kiss was amazing. And Lance was getting pretty turned on.

Keith released his mouth, but not his hair, as he pulled back about an inch or two, letting them both catch their breath. Lance could feel Keith's exhale ghosting over his lips, feel the distance between them like a static charge. He couldn't tell you at what point he'd closed his eyes, but as he opened them he realized just how close Keith really was. Those large round eyes, such a deep grey they thundered like storm clouds, were staring right back at him. It took Lance's breath away all over again.

He surged forward as he took hold of Keith's lips once again, unable to control his impulses; but when had self control ever been a thing Lance was known for. Literally never!

He sucked at Keith's bottom lip, letting his teeth nip at it slightly and earning a low moan from the other. There was no denying that both of them were into this, and there was no going back. Friendship effectively ruined - Meh, they weren't that close anyways.

Lance reached his hand around Keith's narrow waist to slide under his shirt, letting it roam up to the middle of his back. He realized too late that muscle memory had him searching for a bra clasp. To avoid an awkward moment, Lance instead chose to take a fistful of Keith's stupidly hot plain black tee and pressed himself closer; as close as their position on the couch would allow.

The grip in his hair tightened, and Keith's other hand moved to rest just above Lance's knee. Slowly Keith slid his hand up, up, up, closer to Lance's hip and gripped tightly at the thick muscle of his thigh. It sent a shock wave rippling through him and Lance gasped from the thrill of it.

He released his own hand's grip of Keith's shirt, pressing his palm flat against the other's warm back. Keith's tongue licked into his mouth, taking control of the kiss and sending Lance's head spinning. He slid his hand up along the soft skin, feeling the ridges of his spine as he migrated up and around to drag his fingers along Keith's ribs. From here Lance could feel the change in his heart rate, feel his lungs strain to catch a breath, and feel the warm flush spreading across his skin. It was all so hot.

Keith was pristine marble, Michelangelo's David, not even a single mole on his perfect skin. Lance kinda wanted to mark it up.

"Fuck, Lance." Keith moaned as the Cuban dug his fingertips between two ribs. Keith's hand tightened in Lance's hair and his grip on Lance's thigh turned bruising. In the blink of an eye Keith was shifting, surging forward and throwing his leg over Lance's.

Keith plunked himself down in Lance's lap, rocking his hips forward to brush their hardness against one another, and Lance's breath caught in his throat. Keith chuckled at him, a coy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and he reached his hand up to join the other as it twined in Lance's hair.

He leaned forward, applying the smallest amount of added pressure where their bodies met, and latched his lips to Lance's neck. The sensation was overwhelming as Keith sucked at his nape and rocked his hips forward against him.

Lance's hands came to rest on his hips, squeezing possessively as Keith continued his ministrations. The Cuban's skin tasted as sweet as the caramel it resembled, and he just couldn't get enough. He sucked and nipped at the soft flesh, dragging his tongue up to kiss the sensitive area behind his ear and Lance moaned like a whore, bucking his hips to meet Keith's own movements. At this rate they'd never make it to the best part.

He broke them apart and leaned his weight back, severing their connection where he desperately wanted it most. Keith stared into Lance's frantic and needy eyes, searching for the sign he needed to make the next move.

"What?" Lance breathed, the question laced with obvious worry. Keith just stared back at him, trying to gauge where to go from here. "Why'd you stop?" Lance continued.

"How far you wanna go?" Keith countered, tossing the ball back in Lance's court.

"Like, to the bedroom? Or round the bases?" Lance questioned and it just left Keith more confused. He quirked a brown and tilted his head to give the other a look that said "What the fuck are you talking about" and Lance let out a heavy sigh. "You mean do I want to keep making out, fool around a bit, or like - have sex … with you?"

"Ya - that one." Keith answered. He wasn't met with words, instead Lance moved his hands from Keith's waist and slid them up his back, taking his tee shirt along for the ride and pulling it up and over his head. Before Keith could say anything else, or even respond fully, Lance had leaned forward to flick that long tongue across his right nipple. Well that answers that question . Keith thought as he leaned forward to bury his face in the Cuban's soft hair.

Lance flicked his tongue, circling the edges, and sucked the nipple into his mouth. Keith moaned hot and dirty and loud as warm hands massaged at his back and a wet mouth sucked at his chest. From this angle all he could do in response was to fist his hands in Lance's hair, but it wasn't enough; he needed more.

Keith tightened his grip and pulled Lance's head back, yanking it as far back as it would go and glaring into his eyes. He could see the shock and concern as it crossed the other boy's face, worried that he'd crossed some sort of line.

"You don't get to have all the fun." Keith told him and tugged on his hair just a little harder, catching the exact moment the increased pull registered. He smirked down at the other, an old desire to cause him pain violently resurfacing. Only this time, he wanted it to hurt in the best possible way.

Lance definitely wasn't used to this. Most of the girls he'd been with had always expected him to run the show. He'd grown accustomed to being the one to lead the charge and set the pace, but with Keith, that just wasn't the case. Keith was a naturally dominant and controlling person. He forced Lance's head back so the only thing he could register was the pull of his hair from Keith's fist and the intensity of Keith's expression filling his field of view. Keith was a lot of things - intense, sexy, confident - but submissive was clearly not one of them. Lance decided right then and there to just let the other have his way.

He submitted as Keith pushed him backward against the couch. He submitted as Keith undid the buttons of his shirt, gripped the open halves in each fist ,and pulled him into a bruising kiss before yanking it down his arms and tossing the blue garment across the room. He submitted as Keith kissed and licked his way down Lance's chest, stopping to make a point of teasing his nipples in retaliation. He submitted as Keith dropped to his knees between Lance's legs and began fiddling with his belt buckle and the clasp at the front of his beige chinos. And he submitted as Keith kissed the crease between his strong thighs and hip, nuzzling his nose into the space and sucking a mark into the tender flesh.

Lance gasped at the sensation, the promise of something so much better to come, and looked down to catch the sparkle in Keith's devious eyes as he slowly moved his dirty little mouth closer and closer to Lance's groin, mouthing over the bulge in the too-tight fabric as he hummed, clearly pleased with himself. Pale fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband and pulled his navy boxer briefs down, releasing Lance's very, very hard cock.

"Oh, fuck yes." Keith muttered, eagerly yanking the remaining clothing off his body entirely. He wasted no time in wrapping a hand around the base of Lance's shaft and unceremoniously spit directly on the bright red head, dragging his hand up to rub it around. The touch sent shivers up Lance's spine, the pressure immediately feeling incredible and Lance was certain he'd never been this excited to receive a handjob before. Except, he should have known Keith wasn't one to half-ass anything and of course that would carry over into sex. After three gloriously tight fist strokes, Lance watched as Keith shuffled on his knees, moving ever so slightly closer, and reached his hand down into the back pocket of his tight black jeans.

Lance kept his eyes trained on Keith's flexing abs as the other leaned back to fish something out of his pocket, which turned out to be two foil packets. Just how much sex did Keith think they were going to have?

"Uh, why two?" Lance articulately asked and was met with a look of pure exasperation from the sexy as hell boy between his legs.

"One's lube." Keith deadpanned as he opened the clasp on his own jeans and pulled them down to his ankles, kicking them off and squeezing his own bulge tightly with a moan. Lance gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact with Keith throughout the entire ordeal as his traitorous eyes desperately tried to roam the other's body. His marble Adonis smirked up at him through thick black eyelashes and brought that same sinful hand up to his mouth, spitting into it, all the while maintaining strict eye contact.

Lance waited for the spit slicked hand to take him into its grip once again but instead was met with a rather shocking sensation as a glistening finger rubbed across his hole. He yelped in surprise and jerked backwards, causing his sexy-time partner to quirk a brow.

"I - whatareyoudoing?" Lance panicked and Keith rolled his eyes at him.

"Really?" Keith replied, voice completely void of any emotion. "You were doing so good." The last part was said with a slight hint of disappointment and Lance, ever the people pleaser, absolutely hated hearing that tone - especially in the context of sex. And especially in Keith's sexy voice.

"Well, what - uh, what were you going to do?" Lance asked even though he was certain he knew where this was headed, the idea of which was maybe a little terrifying to him. When he'd decided to expand his horizons to include male partners he just assumed he'd be the top.

"Stretch you open." Keith bluntly replied, apparently not being bothered to attempt subtlety.

"Why?" he prodded.

"Cause I want to fuck you, Lance." Keith immediately responded, his voice holding all the authority and command of a man who knows exactly what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it.

Lance's eyes widened to their limit at the hungry tone in Keith's voice. Finally he let his gaze wander down, raking over the other's exquisite frame, and drinking in the glory that is Keith's mostly naked body. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and forced his eyes back up to meet the fire waiting for him there. Keith's stare was ablaze with desire, want, and primal need. And Lance? He surprisingly found himself letting out the tightly held breath and laying back into the couch, content to let Keith take the reins.

He'd never been this far with another guy, but if anyone was going to make sure he was treated right it would be Keith. The hot head may be a bit of an asshole, but he was an asshole with a firm set of ethics.

"I trust you." Lance whispered and Keith nodded his head, offering Lance a small, genuine smile. He placed a series of kisses to Lance's inner thigh, migrating his way closer to where he'd had his hand before. Only, this time he didn't use his hand.

Lance gasped audibly as Keith's warm mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. That dirty little tongue pressed against the length of him as Keith sank lower, and the pleasure spread into Lance's belly. His hand came up on instinct, fingers lacing into black locks and he fisted Keith's hair tightly as the pleasure built.

The sudden intrusion of a single finger startled him enough to yank his arm back, hard; accidentally forcing Keith to deep throat him.

Keith blinked the tears from his eyes, Lance's cock had hit the back of his throat so hard it made his eyes water; it was absolutely glorious. He fucking loved it. He pulled off Lance's thick cock, giving himself a moment to catch his breath before immediately diving back down with gusto. He swallowed Lance as far as he could before reaching his gag reflex, and even then he continued to push his luck.

Keith loved the rush of choking on a nice cock - and Lance was definitely sporting a real gem. Long enough to regularly tease his gag reflex, thick enough to already cause his jaw to ache, and juicy enough that the precum dripping from the tip made for deliciously sticky work. He might be a bit of a slut, if he was being totally honest with himself, but this wasn't the time for introspection - it was the time to work Lance's ass open so he could drive his own cock deep inside that tight warmth.

God he wanted Lance. He had for a while, but was totally convinced the other was straight and therefore unattainable. But that didn't stop him from fantasizing about it, imagining what he would do to the Cuban if he ever got him in this exact situation. The problem was, Keith had so many different scenarios planned that it was hard to nail down exactly which one he wanted to go with. Though at this rate it seemed like they weren't going to be travelling all that far from the couch - if they even left it at all.

Lance let out a lascivious moan as Keith pushed a second finger inside. It was all so good, he was so tight and responded so well to the stimulation. He wondered if Lance knew he was a natural bottom? Keith could gaze up at him and watch the pleasure play out across his features. It was majestic to behold.

It also made him feel like a god; a sex god to be precise.

He curved a finger and Lance jolted, gasping loudly, and pulling his hair even tighter than before. Looks like Keith found what he was looking for. He smirked to himself and got back to work.

The explosion of pleasure set his nerves on fire as Lance felt his whole body react to that one movement. He was fully panting now, unable to regain his breath and feeling a coil of heat building in his guts. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before but he recognized it right away. He was going to cum - and soon.

He tried to warn Keith, he tried to let him know to stop before Lance was finished, but the combination of that skilled mouth and those dutiful fingers had Lance seeing stars before he could even so much as breathe a word of it.

He screamed as he came, curses flying from his mouth in a strangled mix of English and Spanish as he arched his back and unloaded down Keith's throat. They hadn't even gotten to the actual sex part yet and Lance had already experience absolute nirvana. He'd ascended, left his earthly body behind and became one with pleasure and joy and everything glorious in the universe. He floated amongst the stars as Keith sucked at the head of his cock, greedily drinking down every last drop of cum he could suck out.

Lance was reduced to a puddle; he had no bones, he had no thoughts, he had nothing except the pure ecstasy that Keith had bestowed upon him. It took far, far too long for him to come back to his senses, and embarrassingly long before he realised that he'd been the only one to finish.

Lance lifted his head and looked down the length of his own body to find Keith breathing heavily into the crook of his hip, one hand splayed across Lance's stomach and the other hiding somewhere out of view. In his post orgasm haze it was easy to just flop back and fall asleep, but Lance couldn't let himself do that; he needed to pay Keith back for the earth shattering, mind altering, experience he'd just undergone.

He looked at the other again, clearer this time as the fog slowly left his brain. Keith looked about as spent as Lance felt. He was panting heavily, resting his head where Lance's thigh met his hip - that much he'd had already noticed. What he'd missed was the sweat on Keith's forehead dripping onto his brow and running down the side of his face across his temple. He'd missed the way Keith's hand was stretching and retracting, almost caressing Lance's abs. He'd missed the way Keith's right shoulder was ever so slightly moving, as if his hand were somewhere low making repetitive motions.

It was then that he put two and two together. Keith finished. He'd come just from completely undoing Lance. His left hand working Lance open while his right stroked at himself and his mouth swallowed Lance down. He'd given Lance the biggest orgasm of his life, and he got himself off on it.

That was the single hostess thing Lance had ever encountered.

It took a minute or two … or five, before Keith's head finally cleared back up. The fact that he'd collapsed into Lance, breathing in the smell of his sweet skin and sweat, did absolutely nothing to help him come back to himself. It did, however, enhance everything he was feeling.

…. Everything.

Somehow, when he finally lifted his head to steal a glance at the hottest guy he'd ever managed to bag, Keith realized something that terrified him to his core: he kinda didn't hate Lance. It made him excited - it made him nervous. He should probably go home!

"You dead?" he croaked, his voice absolutely wrecked.

"Dios mio, tal vez." Lance breathed and though Keith couldn't understand his actual words, he definitely got the message.

He chuckled at the Cuban beneath him and pulled his red boxer briefs back up, followed by his jeans. He pushed himself to his feet and searched around for his tee shirt, tossing Lance's various articles of clothing in his direction as he found them. Once fully dressed he walked back to the couch where Lance hadn't bothered to move a muscle, his shirt tossed across his lap, his own navy boxer briefs resting on his shoulder, and his chinos laying on the floor at his feet.

There was cum all over the floor from where Keith had unloaded, which would need to be cleaned up, and there was probably a perfect outline of sweat in the shape of Lance's body, but otherwise they hadn't really made much of a mess.

"Why are you dressed?" Lance asked. "You're not leaving are you?"

Keith reached for Lance's wine glass still sitting on the table, and downed the final few sips before grabbing his own glass and thrusting them both towards the host.

"Can't drive. Someone got me drunk." He said with a wink and wiggled the glasses for good measure.

"Looks like you'll be sleeping with me then." Lance answered brightly, jumping to his feet to take both glasses from him and saunter into the kitchen. "The couch could use a good clean and this is a one bedroom apartment." He continued, pulling the cork from a fresh bottle of wine and refilling both glasses before making his way back to the living room with a sly grin on his face.

All while totally naked.

Keith let his eyes roam the other's body unapologetically since that was clearly what he wanted. He drank in the sight of him; tall, tanned, toned, and tight. So tight. Everything about him was tight - his stomach muscles, his absolutely flawless ass.

Lance followed Keith's eyes down his own body before looking back at him and gasping dramatically. "I didn't even get to see you naked!" He whined and Keith chuckled.

"We didn't use the condom or lube either." he said, taking his glass from Lance and downing a large sip of smooth merlot. "Next time." He added with a smirk.

"Ya," Lance agreed with a smile, taking his own sip of wine. "Next time."