Break Bad

They don't need to know.

Author's Note:
There is smut in this chapter. It's sectioned off for those who wish to skip it.
-Redoran Reed
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Keith and Lance ate together in silence. Their phones continued to fill with messages, and Lance couldn’t help but read every single notification. Keith cracked open his crab legs as Lance’s face was over taken with concern. He absentmindedly chewed on his club sandwich while scrolling through all the messages, and Keith couldn’t help but watch and shake his head.

“It’s best just to leave it,” he said. Lance glanced at him mid-chew. He swallowed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Unless you wanna go back, they’ll just beg you to return. No use arguing. Best to enjoy it while it lasts,” he said and fished out the crab meat.

“You really don’t like being watched by your parents, huh?” Lance questioned. Keith shrugged.

“I’m used to being on my own. I don’t like to be coddled,” he answered.

“Do you know what happened to your birth parents?” Keith was silent for a moment before cracking open another leg.

“No. I never met them.”

“Oh…”

“Born and raised a bastard.”

“Don’t say that-“

“Why not? It’s true,” Keith fished out more meat. He dipped the meat into the butter provided and turned his body to face the trolly completely. Lance frowned and put his phone down.

“Can I…see all your tattoos?” He asked. Keith paused for a brief moment before continuing to pursue his crab.

“It’s a lot of skin. You sure you wanna see it all?” He asked. Lance moved closer on the couch and reached for Keith’s arm. The other man allowed him to pull back his sleeve and peek down at the back of his forearm. Tan fingers smoothed over feathers.

“Did you do this yourself?” He asked. Keith shook his head.

“One of the newbies at the parler. She pressed too deep and it caused the ink to bleed under the skin,” he pointed to the cloudiness around the stem. “There.”

“Oh…do you not like it?” He asked. Keith shook his head.

“She just got out of school. For someone with little experience, it’s not bad. It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“How come?” Lance was getting closer, but Keith only noticed it when he lifted his head to look at the other man and was met with his hair in his nose. Lance looked up at him.

“It’s imperfect, and yet it’s still beautiful,” he said. Lance blinked and then smiled.

“That’s a good reason.”

     He looked back at the ink, and then dared to continued to roll back his sleeve. Keith could almost see the goosebumps on Lance's arm as he rolled up Keith's sleeve.
There was a rose at his elbow, and Keith explained it as another practice piece from a fellow artist at the parler. His hands had designs on them as well, and he explained everything to the last detail. Then Lance couldn’t pull his sleeve back anymore, and Keith chuckled.