Keith lay there. The cold roof tiles pressed against his back. He sighed and took another swig of beer. The night sky lit up, thousands of stars lighting their way across the astral plane. Quiet footsteps let Keith know he wasn't alone, he peered at his bottle before swallowing down the rest of it.
Cool glass pressed against his cheek, looking up he saw the upside-down view of Lance's lopsided smile. "Need another?".
"Please". Keith propped himself up, gratefully taking the alcohol. Lance sat down, the two sharing companionable silence.
"So, rough week huh?"
Keith snorted, "tell me about it"
Lance shot over an intrigued look. Maybe it was the alcohol because as Keith stared into those pretty blue eyes he felt a sense of longing to share everything with the boy. Keith sighed, "long story short: I found out my secret lover was engaged and was merely using me as his sex release".
Lance blinked. "That's rough buddy".
"Yeah". Silence consumed them again, this time thoughtful.
"You need a list". Keith leaned up to look at Lance, "A list?" He questioned. Lance snorted, "yeah a list of random things to do, takes your mind off things and makes new memories".
Slowly he turned to look down at Keith, "I could help if you would like?".
Keith shrugged, downing the last contents of the bottle. "Why not?".
Lance hummed as he danced around the room, "Gasolina" blasting from his tiny speaker. (A gift from his twin for his birthday a few years ago). He grabbed a few more items from his suitcase, throwing them in a pile on his bed. He threw his head back, loudly singing along. His hips circled slowly and seductively, body rolling as the beat pounded. The tension rose, the song building to its climax. Lost to the music, he dragged his hands down his body before dropping into a squat, ass bouncing before he bent back up, hips snapping and ass popping back and forth. A throat cleared. Horrified he turned to see Keith casually leaning against the door frame, a smirk on his face. Raising an eyebrow he crossed his arms, shirt tightening around his toned biceps.
"Nice moves".
Lance's face burned with embarrassment. "What? Enjoy the show?" He retorted, taking on a similar stance to the man in front of him.
Keith's eyes dragged up and down Lance's figure before resting on his face. "Hmmm," he gave a thoughtful hum.
Lance's bottom lip caught between his teeth, rolling it between his canines, capturing Keith's attention.
The two stood in silence, sexual tension, embarrassment and awkwardness hung heavy in the air.
"What are you doing anyway? The room is a mess" Keith broke the tension first, walking over to Lance's bed and threading through the pile of clothes.
Lance grinned. "First item on the list, a party".
Keith shot him an amused look, "You were serious about that?"
Lance scoffed, "I never joke".
Eyebrows raised.
"Shutup"
Lance had deemed Keith's plain wardrobe unacceptable and had convinced him to borrow some of his own clothes. "Let's go for 90s hip hop?/ Y2K vibe" "What the fuck does that mean?". In the end, Lance forced Keith into wearing an outfit that was a little too black for his own taste.
"What do you think?".
Oversized baggy jeans hung low on Keith's hips, his black underwear band visible. The jeans were accompanied by a heavy belt. His shirt, a tight-fitted crop top, a high neckline and sleeveless, which left little of Keith's torso to the imagination. A black tie sat loosely around his neck, barely even tied. A black zip-up hoodie sat low on his forearms, black fingerless gloves completing the look. Lance let his eyes trail over the others appreciatively, maybe he should ditch the surfer idea and become a stylist.
Keith peered in the mirror. "I feel..."
"Yeah?"
"Cold".
Lance scoffed in annoyance, "yeah yeah it's not as if I helped you or anything, the word is "thank you" and you're welcome" He glared at Keith as he whirled around, a guilty look planted on his beautiful face.
"I didn't mean... look thank you, I'm just not used to being so... exposed".
Lance rolled his eyes, "Yeah it's not as if you're a surfer who's constantly shirtless or in tight wetsuits y'know?" Despite this he walked over, pulling the hoodie up over Keith's broad shoulders and zipped it up. The zipper dragged up when it met its end it left Lance standing face-to-face with Keith. A pause. "Well then, let's go party, Mullet".
"It's not a mullet?!?!"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
