Come to Daddy~

Just the Beginning

Keith was furious, yet again. Furious with who? None other than Lance freaking McClain, of course.
Why?
Why not? That is the better question.
Ever since he could remember Lance had flirted aimlessly and annoyingly with every girl that crossed his path.
Keith was done. It felt like Lance had been doing this in front of him on purpose, but that may just be the intense jealousy talking. He couldn't be sure because he'd never talked with Lance about anything other than school. They hung out with the same group of people. Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Shiro, Lotor, Matt, Shay, and Lance were his inner circle. But Lance and him hadn't ever really been friends. They were just acquaintances.
Everyone else seemed to know he liked Lance. They'd all said that Lance was just clueless. But it still felt like Lance would purposely obnoxiously flirt in front of him. Keith was pissed. Keith was jealous. Keith was done.
So, like he usually would, he went to the local bar. There he sat, alone, draining two beers and taking two shots of whiskey. Then, he topped it all off with a quick mimosa, and he was finally tipsy. His alcohol tolerance was nothing to laugh at. He could handle copious amounts of alcohol at any time of day, no matter how much he'd eaten.
"Woah, there, Keith. Maybe take a break? That's a lot of drinks," said the last person he wanted to see at this point in time. Why in the hell did he have to be here? Why can't he just leave me alone?
"What the fuck do you want, Lance? I'm busy trying to drown my feelings. If you don't have business with me, leave me alone." He said, the alcohol making his inhibitions weak, and his tongue very loose. He'd come off harsher than he usually would, but Lance just threw his emotions into a frenzy of anger and annoyance.
"Okay, calm down. I was only worried about you. If you really want to be alone, I'll leave. But you seem like you should have a spotter around you. I would know, believe me." Lance said with the utmost care and concern in his voice. That just made Keith even more angry and annoyed at the idiot.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just don't talk to me. That's the last thing I want right now." Keith said. He was a bit drunk, now that the alcohol had all taken effect.
"Alright, buddy. I don't know why you're so pissed at me, but I'm here for you." Lance said as he smiled. Damn him. Damn that smile. Damn that caring tone. Damn that adorable face. And damn his attractive frame.
Keith wanted nothing more that to grab him by that pretty little throat of his and push him up against the wall of the bar. But the part of him that was still somewhat in control told him that would be a bad idea. So he didn't. But God, if he didn't want to.
"Whatever, man. Just get me another shot of whiskey." He said and Lance ordered it for him. He took the shot and threw it back with ease. The burn at the back of his throat giving him comfort.
"I think that should be plenty of alcohol for tonight. That's your sixth drink." Lance said, trying to sound as reasonable as he could, without coming off bossy. Keith knew this because he'd seen Lance spot for Shiro when his fiancé Adam had left him. Keith lived with Shiro, sort of like a little brother.
"Hm? It is? Oh. Fine, whatever." Keith said. He didn't want to stop, but he wasn't stupid. He knew this could only end in a bad hangover if he kept on going.
"Alright, so...why are you drinking? What happened?" Lance asked. As if Keith would fucking tell him it was his fault. That's not going to happen. At least that's what the sober Keith inside his head said. Drunk Keith had other plans.
"Of course, you wouldn't know...of course, you don't understand." Keith said, annoyed but suddenly trying to fight back the tears that were forming.
"Keith, it's fine, you don't have to tell me. I think it may be something you'll regret later." Lance said, being kind and compassionate and annoying.
"God, I'm so pissed. I'm so goddamn pissed." Keith said through tears. He didn't know when he'd started to cry, but he had, and there was no stopping the tears now.
"Keith, stop. I don't think you want to say this out loud." Lance said, trying to sound calm but obviously panicking.
"Hell no, I don't wanna say it! But I think I gotta." Keith said in pain. He was mentally trying to restrain himself from saying another word, but he couldn't keep himself under wraps. Drunk Keith was winning.
Just then, Lance put a hand over his mouth, silencing him. "Shut up, Keith. We are going to go over to your house, see if we can't get you sobered up a little with some coffee and a cinnamon roll, then we will see if you still want to talk about this."
"Sure, whatever." Keith said, tired and sadly. Lance was probably right, but he'd never tell him that. No way would he give Lance the ego boost. That's the last thing Lance needed. What Lance needed was to be Keith's.
"Okay, upsie-daisy. Let's go. Can't believe you were drinking at 1pm. Who does that?" Lance asked, exasperated.
"I do. Especially when I'm pissed off." Keith said, trying to avoid saying anything more. Keith wanted to tell Lance everything in that moment.
Keith wanted to tell Lance all about his closet DDLB kink. Keith wanted to tell Lance about how he'd imagined, every day for the past year an a half, Lance could be his little boy. Keith wanted to mention to Lance how he wanted to dominate his entire life, be his everything. But he wouldn't. He'd keep quiet, like sober Lance and the sober Keith in his mind wanted him to.
But, now...in the silence of the car...all Keith could think about was having Lance be his. Tying Lance by his wrists to the headboard, having his legs around his waist, making Lance his. Torturing Lance for hours, leaving him chained up, playing with him for hours...all of that seemed like a heavenly dream that would never come true.
He wanted Lance. He craved him. He needed him.
His pants were suddenly tighter than they had been.
"Aw, fuck." Keith said, looking down at his hard-on. This was just great. He was hard, in a car, with Lance, while drunk.
"What's wrong?" Lance asked, not looking away from the road, thankfully. He was a great driver, Keith would give him that.
"N-nothing. Just feeling a little sick." He said, lying. He hoped Lance would buy it. How was he supposed to explain the hardness in his pants to Lance? What could he say?
"Sorry, I'll drive a little slower and steadier. We don't need you throwing up in my new car." He said. Lance was right. Keith did not want to ruin the interior of his new Honda Civic. It was pretty and clean. And it smelt like new car. Nobody would want a drunk 22 year old to throw up in their new car.
"Thanks." Keith said. Trying to sound convincing.
His hard-on was clearly visible and there was no way to hide it. He wished he'd brought a jacket.
They arrived at Shiro and Keith's place. Lance helped Keith out of the car, apparently not noticing the hardness in his pants.
They got inside and Shiro was nowhere to be found.
"Where's Shiro?" Asked Lance.
"Probably going on a date. He's trying to get over Adam. Not well, but he's trying." Keith said, being super unfiltered.
"Damn, that sucks. Poor guy." Lance said, sadly.
Lance took Keith to the kitchen and sat him down at the counter. He got to making some coffee and warming up a cinnamon roll from the fridge. Keith always had cinnamon rolls. They were his favorite.
"What flavor creamer do you want?" Lance asked.
"Um, caramel?" Keith said, hopefully. He shouldn't be out of that one yet.
"Okay." Lance said and poured a little into Keith's coffee.
He set the cinnamon roll and coffee in front of Keith and smiled happily. "Alright, eat and drink up."
Keith drank the coffee, enjoying the sensation of the heat.
Lance was just staring and watching him from the other side of the counter, smiling that stupidly adorable smile and making Keith's heart race like a jet. This wasn't fair. Lance had no right to look at Keith so sweetly. Lance had no right to make Keith feel this way. Lance had no right to his heart.
But he did and had all of those things. And it infuriated and pissed Keith off to no fucking end.
Once Keith was done with the snack, he went over to the couch. It had been an hour or two since his last drink, so he was sobering up.
"Let's both just take a nap. That'll help you sober up, and I'm just really tired." Lance said and walked over to the bigger couch, grabbed a blanket, kicked off his shoes, situated a pillow and laid down.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds good." Keith said and made his way to his room.
When he was halfway there and around a corner, so that there was now a wall between Lance and him, he heard Lance say, "Oh, I forgot something."
Keith looked around the corner and nearly fainted.
Lance removed his pants to reveal his package. It was good. It was big. Keith couldn't breathe. He just stood there, peeking around the corner, staring at Lance.
"Much better. Can't nap in jeans." Lance said to himself and got under the fleece blanket.
Lance peered over to where Keith was, probably sensing eyes watching him.
Keith quickly but quietly walked to his room and shut the door.
He took off all but his boxers, brushed his hair a little bit, threw back the covers, and hopped into bed.
This was stupid. This was ridiculous. He'd been staring. He'd been staring right at Lance's dick. He'd been imaging torturing him for hours, he'd imagined sucking that cute dick off, he'd imagined that dick tied up and teased, he'd imagined a lot. This was getting dangerous. This was getting to be too much. This was crazy.
Keith looked down and saw his dick was hardened up again. It had finally calmed down, but then Lance and his perfect hips, beautiful thighs, and perfect package had ruined that for Keith.
What Keith needed was to nap.
He turned over on his side and brought his knees up a little, assuming the foetal position. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. Five minutes at most.
Then he started dreaming. His hands on Lance's ass. His dick in Lance's mouth. His hands wrapped in Lance's hair as he was sucked off. He dreamt of Lance's perky balls and how he'd love to play with those. He dreamt that Lance was begging to be claimed. He dreamt that Lance was masturbating in front of him, begging him to do it instead. He dreamt that he was spanking and marking Lance as his.
Keith woke with a start. He'd fallen asleep at about 2pm and it was past 5pm now. It was 5:35. No doubt Lance was awake by now.
Keith was sobered up and rested. Not completely sober, but sober enough to control his words and actions. It was as if he's only two shots in. Keith also realised he was still hard. And he blamed his dream.
"Alright so, you're up now. You seem sober. At least enough. Let's talk now?" Lance asked as Keith entered the room.
"A-alright." Keith said.
Keith was anxious.