Klance - Beat Drop (Complete)

Chapter 15 Mom, it's early

Keith watched as Lance hopped upstage behind Spencer, after the short, muscular man said something to a person by the wall, holding an iPod hooked up to the sound system. Lance stood confidently, and a couple people hooted at him, to which he winked back. Spencer grabbed Lance's waist as an exotic beat sounded, and then the bass kicked in.

Spanish music flowed over the club, and Lance perked up, eyes lighting up as he recognized the song. Keith didn't know it. Lance switched his hips, fast and smooth, and Spencer whistled, looking out at the crowd. It had grown a bit since the group had arrived, and now more people were drunk, now watching Spencer grinding against Lance's hip as Lance shouted the lyrics, his tongue flipping out to lick his lips.

Keith watched from the bar, soaked in jealousy. He felt an anger towards Spencer, for his stupid hot body and confident, sexy smile. Lance liked that confidence. Keith was far from it.

Wait, hang on, Lance knew how to twerk? Keith paused. Yeah, he could see how that was hot...

The rest of the song was agonizingly painful in both how Spencer was dancing against Lance, but also how Lance was dancing in general... Needless to say, as soon as Lance hopped off the stage, Keith was kissing him fiercely, and Lance only laughed, winding his arms around Keith's shoulders, getting glitter, which Spencer had poured over Lance's sweaty body, all over Keith's clothes.

They kissed until Shiro broke them apart, protesting that they were making a scene.

...

Keith stumbled next to Lance as Shiro called them a cab. "Wow, man," Keith slurred, "You can really hold yer liquor."

Shiro only looked at Keith appraisingly, dark eyebrows stitched together, as he spoke into his phone. The cab was there in minutes. Shiro told the driver Keith's address, then shoved the two boys inside. "I'll call you tomorrow, Keith," Shiro said, and Keith nodded drunkenly, falling into Lance's shoulder.

As the cab sped away from the club, Keith looked up at Lance, who actually looked pretty sober. That changed when he started giggling when Keith reached to hold his hand. "You were sooo cool tonight," Keith said, admiring Lance's beautiful, strong jawline and high cheekbones.

"Thank you, sir," Lance said, and his eyes were bright, "You were a jealous mess, but I love you anyways, Mr. Mullet."

"You called me Buster Brown," Keith hiccuped, and Lance laughed, poking Keith's nose.

"Yes, I did."

...

"HOW MANY STAIRS ARE THERE?" Lance groaned, trudging up the stairs to Keith's apartment.

"A lot," Keith replied, breathing heavily, "Only two more flights."

The two had sobered up a bit in the car, but now they were just plain exhausted, and the sounds of their breathing echoed through the cement-walled stairway. Keith held his hand to his side, where a cramp was forming. He looked at his watch. 12:37. That was relatively okay, he guessed.

The drive home had been spent with the two curled next to each other, dozing softly, until the driver was demanding cash. Keith had almost been too drunk and too tired to count the bills, but he managed to give the driver the correct amount before leading Lance inside.It was a new, weird feeling for Keith to sleep in the car, and his stomach felt weird and his throat was sticky afterward, but Lance made the experience better, even though he drooled on Keith's shirt.

As the pair arrived on the correct hallway, Keith fumbled for his keys in his back pocket and struggled to unlock and open his door, partially to the fact that Lance was leaning heavily against him, almost pinning him to the door as he tried to fit the metal into the slot of the lock.