"Tell me what you see" Klance Voltron band AU

Chapter 6- The Party

(Idk the picture makes me laugh, it's kinda fitting)

Keith's POV

"Stop staring at the door! Who are you waiting for?" Shiro asks me, gesturing to the door with his beer. He's basically my brother. Well, sort of. I don't know what you'd call it, it's a weird relationship, but it works.
"No one! Drop it!" I snap, hiding my blushing face with my cup.
"Who's the hot guy you're waiting for?" Shiro says again, getting a kick out of this.

I just sigh and walk away from him, towards the door. Even though the music is way too loud, I can still hear him laughing at me. He's an ass sometimes.

The first hour of the party is a major blur. I drink way more than I should've, and I end up accidentally punching myself in the face a total of four times. Which, surprisingly, is not a record.

Feeling light and bubbly, I decide that it's a good idea to dance. Sober me would hate this, but I'm drunk so it doesn't matter.

I search the crowd one more time for someone, but I can't remember who I'm looking for. I shrug to myself, I'll know who I'm looking for when I see 'em.
I set down my red solo cup and push my way into the dance floor, dancing like an idiot. There's a cute-ish guy near me, so I decide to dance with him until I find whoever it is I'm looking for. The guy I'm dancing 'with' is clearly not into it, 'cause he's leaving the circle of people very quickly.

I laugh to myself, "fucken straights!" Dancing isn't fun anymore, especially when there's no one cute to dance with. I shimmy my way through people, glad for the first time in my life that I'm as small as I am, and then I see who it was I was looking for.

He's got wavy brown hair that he obviously tried to straighten before giving up and pushing it back, and he's got soft, caramel looking skin. He's wearing one of those tank tops you only wear if you've got pecs, and he does. Oh god he does. He's got big muscles on his arms, and veins popping out in his forearms, like all the hot guys in the movies do. He was right before, drumming is a full body work out. I can't help but wonder what else is hidden under that shirt.
Then I notice it. The big, black eye on his face.
"What happened to you dude?!" I yell a little too loudly, running over to Lance.
"Oh...well it's make up. You said before you were embarrassed s-so...yeah."
"It's pretty hot man!" I blurt, not thinking.
"Thanks?"
"You wanna drink?" I ask, probably still shouting.
"God yes!"

He follows me into the kitchen and I grab two fullish bottles of tequila and Jack Daniels.
"Think that's enough alcohol?" Lance asks, probably sarcastically, but I can't tell.
"Don't worry, we've got more in the freezer!" I yell back, leading Lance to the balcony attached to the side of our apartment.

We don't have any chairs out here, only an ash tray and a few cases of beer, but I don't care, so I sit on the cement.
"You gonna join me or what?" I ask, finally being able to hear myself.
He sits down beside me, and I notice our legs are touching.
"Thanks for the fake black eye or whatever."
"Y-yeah, not a problem. I remembered reading about how Ryan Ross put makeup on his eye when Brendon Urie got hit by something at a concert so he wasn't embarrassed by the black eye. I figured it couldn't hurt to try," Lance mumbles.

"Didn't they also fuck?"

Lance chokes and coughs, turning red. I think he's nervous, so I hand him the tequila. He downs a solid quarter of it in record time.

"Holy shit, that's impressive." I say to him.
"Thanks. I've had some practice."

————————————————————

Lance's POV

After drinking a fuck ton of tequila, I decide it's a good- no, scratch that- fantastic idea to break out my confidence and flirty charm.
"Hey Keith?" I ask him, staring at our legs, which are touching. The spot where he touches me is basically on fire, though I can't tell if that's from the drinking or not.
"Yep?" He answers back.
"You said something before..."
"I've said lots of things before." He laughs to himself.
"Oh shut up, never mind." I lean my shoulder against his and dig in my pockets, needing to do something with my hands in this state of drunkenness and slight nervousness. If I don't dig in my pockets I might start digging around somewhere else and even Drunk Me™️ isn't so sure that's a good idea. "Yes! I knew this jacket was lucky for a reason!"

"What is it? You got a winning lottery ticket in there or s'mthin'? Keith asks, starting to slur his words. In all honesty I expected that to happen earlier, what with all the alcohol he's had tonight.
"Better." I pull out a baggie with a blunt in it. "Want some?"
"Yeah, why not?"
I shrug. "You gotta lighter?"
"Nope. Maybe you should keep digging in those magic pockets of yours."
"Whatever." Listening to Keith, I dig around until I find my favourite, lucky blue Zippo. It was thrown at me at our first ever show, and I've had it since. Whenever I've got this bad boy in my pocket, something good happens to me.
I get it lit with surprising ease, and pass it to Keith first.

It's quiet for what feels like forever, until...

"You were talking before?" Keith asks, handing me the joint. Smoke curls around us and disappears into the night. If I wasn't so drunk I'd probably say how poetic that is or some shit.

"Yeah," I mumble, taking a long drag.
Something I said?"
"Yep."
"Can you only answer in monosyllables?"
"Yes?" I laugh. For some reason, I find that hilarious. Keith stares at me in awe, like he just noticed me for the first time.
"Well? Come on dude! Now that I know it's something I said you've gotta tell me!!"
"I uhh...you called me hot before."
"Yes I did." He answers, matter-of-factly.
"You're not serious are you?"
"Nope. Totally serious."
"Oh."

I lean my head against the brick wall and exhale hard. Smoke twists and turns around Keith and me, almost pulling us together magnetically.
"I'm uhh...I'm straight though. I've got a...well, I've got an Ashley."
"For gods sake, you're still sleeping with her?" He says loudly, sitting up and staring at me.

My ex, Ashley. She hated everything about the band, and me for that matter. She hated our sound and our instruments and she even hated Hunk. Who the fuck can hate a bean like that?!? The only reason she stuck around because I could buy her stuff. Sometimes. Anyways, we broke up a few months ago but...well...the sex continues at times. What can I say, it's subpar. Better than my other ex girlfriends.

"Oh come on! Don't lecture me!" I yell back at him.
"No, I'm gonna! She was such a bitch!"
"You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous!" I shoot back at him.
"Maybe I am!"
"Wh...what?" I ask carefully.

Keith fucking likes me? He's jealous of Ashley? Like, he's wanting to be her jealous??!

"Never mind. I'm really drunk. Just...stop sleeping with her, 'Kay? She sucks." He finally says, grabbing the joint and finishing it before dropping it to the floor of the balcony and grinding the tip with his boot.
I've always had a thing for combat boots. They're sexy. Especially on the right legs.

"Fine, fine. Promise." I mumble, only a little distracted.
We sit outside in silence for who knows how long, before Keith pipes up.
"I'm going inside. It's freezing. You should come too, or you're gonna freeze out here and Voltron will have to find a new drummer."

We stand up, using the wall and each other as balance to push our way inside.

I feel so...warm. And tingly all over. I've got no idea why though. Alcohol never does this kinda thing to me. I don't remember pot doing this to me either. Maybe it's the mixture of both? But I've had both before and I've never felt this way. I shake my head, pushing out the wonders and excuses my brain is creating.

By now the party's died down and we're almost all alone in the apartment.
"I'm tired." Keith says to himself, "Gonna go to bed. Night." He walks into his room and shuts the door. I can hear a lock turning and I realize at that exact moment just how tired I am.

People are on the couches, passed out, so I don't wanna sleep there. My apartment is too far from here to walk, and besides, I'm way too drunk to walk, even if it was close. My only options are a) go back outside and freeze, b) go to Shiro's room and hope that he and his girlfriend Allura aren't in there, or c) knock on Keith's door and beg him to let me crash in there.
I sigh loudly, hoping it'll wake up one of the drunks on the couch, but it doesn't.

Dammit.

Looks like I gotta go with plan c)

WC: 1620

AN: hey!
Special thanks to @unimportant_demon who inspired me to finish writing this chapter! I'm glad you like the story!!

Let me know if there's anything any of you want to see in an upcoming chapter or if you just wanna say hi. That works too.

Until next time

-That_Weird_Fan