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promiscuous boy

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Lance was pretty proud of his Tinder profile, if he did say so himself. He’d made it as soon as he’d gotten to college, desperate to hit up and meet all that Altea University had to offer him, but he’d cultivated and perfected it over the years. He wasn’t one of those dudes with just one shitty picture, or those other guys with a blurry picture of a group of people taken at night and then one other photo of their abs, leaving you with no idea which of the guys he actually was. No, Lance’s Tinder was much more sophisticated than that.

It started with a picture of him and his nephew. Miguel was sitting on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around Lance’s head as he tried to keep balance, the picture taken in the mirror of a department store. Miguel was featured in a couple of Lance’s photos, actually, usually climbing all over him or, in one, bunching up Lance’s cheeks as he glared jokingly at the camera. Another featured him laying on his dad. He’d been being annoying on purpose, and his sister had taken the picture for him. It was kind of blurry, but you could see that he’d been laughing, and he thought it made him look cute.

The last picture was the one that he assumed got most people to swipe right. It was him at a karaoke bar. He’d had a few drinks, and the bar had been crowded and hot, so he was glistening a little with sweat. Most of the buttons on his shirt had been undone as he’d stood under a spotlight on the stage, a mic in his hand. He’d had glitter on his cheekbones and his hair had been sweaty, falling in front of his face as he’d sang, his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

To put it simply, he looked hot.

His bio was short and simple, but he figured most people swiped because of the photos anyway. It just said, i know you’re all swiping right bc of my adorable nephew, don’t lie.

But the thing was, Lance had never had the privilege of watching someone scroll through his profile before. He was sitting in a lecture hall, a class of about 300 as their professor droned on. It was the last Gen Ed Lance had to take, and the only class that had still been open when he’d gone to enroll, which was why he was currently taking Environmental Literature. Don’t get him wrong, he cared about the environment, but this class was just depressing. And there were a ton of readings, which wasn’t exactly the best thing when Lance’s ADHD already barely allowed him to concentrate when he was actually in class.

Anyway, Lance didn’t blame anyone who wasn’t paying attention. This class always seemed to take longer than his others, despite it being the exact same length. Students often had phones propped up behind their books, or their laptop open but not to the class’ slides.

Lance sat in one of the rows further back in the class, his chin propped in his fist as he stared toward the front of the auditorium with glazed eyes. His eyes drifted down to the rows in front of him, and there – two seats below him – was his Tinder profile.

It was open on Keith Kogane’s phone. They’d had a couple classes together in the past, and had even worked on a few projects together in that time, so Lance knew him pretty well. He had a dry sense of humor that Lance hadn’t quite picked up on at first, and he was unfairly hot.

Freshman year, he’d had this whole rivalry built up in his head, because Keith had often responded to his posts on discussion boards, usually disagreeing with Lance. It wasn’t until the end of the semester that he’d learned you were supposed to respond to other students’ posts, and that the easiest way to say the most about a topic was to disagree with whatever the original poster had said.

Anyway. His Tinder.

He’d seen Keith swipe through a few profiles earlier in this class. Each person that came up was a guy, so he must’ve had his preferences set to guys only, unlike Lance. It seemed like he almost always swiped left, and usually after only the first picture or two.

But he was taking the time to actually go through Lance’s profile. There Lance was, sitting at a restaurant with only him and Miguel on one side of the booth, Miguel’s hands in his hair as Lance pretended to studiously look at the menu. Another swipe, and Lance was laying on top of his dad, laughing. Another swipe, and Lance was on a stage, a microphone to his lips.

He waited. Keith waited. They both stared at the picture. Lance had no idea what was going on in the lecture, nor any idea what was going on in Keith’s head, but they both just continued to stare.

And then, finally, Keith swiped right. Lance felt like his eyes were bulging out of his head, his breath stuck somewhere in his chest as he convinced himself it was some kind of mistake. But then his phone buzzed.

Lance pulled it out of his pocket, and there, on the screen, was a notification. Someone likes you! Swipe right to find out!

Throwing any hopes of actually concentrating during this class out the window, Lance opened the app. He had to swipe through a couple people before he finally came to Keith’s profile, swiping them all left in his haste to get to him. And then he was there.

Keith wasn’t smiling in the picture. He was standing with his arms crossed, his hair falling in his eyes as he glared at whoever had taken the picture of him. The next picture was a selfie, with the phone in front of Keith’s face as he stood in front of a bathroom mirror. He was wearing workout clothes, a loose tank top showing off his sides and his totally unfair arm muscles. There was one of him actually in the gym, benching what was probably an impressive amount of weight, not that Lance would actually know. And the last picture was taken by someone else, apparently when Keith was unawares. He was at a restaurant, and the picture was taken by someone sitting directly beside him. Keith was smiling as he talked to whoever was on the other side of the table, his lip just slightly curled up. The smile softened his whole face, even made his eyes twinkle (or that might’ve just been the restaurant’s lighting). Either way, it made Lance lose his breath for a second or two.

His bio said: Not really sure what I’m doing here. My brother says I should get out more. I think he should stay out of my sex life.

And then, on a separate line: If you’ve got a kid I’m swiping left.

Lance was grinning. Granted, Miguel wasn’t really his kid, but Keith hadn’t even swiped up to look at his bio, so it wasn’t like he knew that. He’d seen Miguel and maybe even thought Lance was some really young dad and had still swiped right. Lance was giddy.

He waited until the class was over before swiping right, not wanting Keith to get the notification and maybe realize that Lance was just a row or two behind him. There was a reason the initial talking period on Tinder was supposed to happen in-app and not in person.

Lance headed straight to the library after class – not a place he went to often, you have to understand – but he was anxious to sit down and handle this with care. It wasn’t every day you matched with a hot guy you thought you had zero chance with. To be completely honest, Lance hadn’t even realized Keith was into guys.

It’s a match! the app declared. A message box popped up, and Lance clicked on it. He messaged first maybe half the time, but he wasn’t about to not message Keith and risk possibly never having this conversation happen.

He sat there for a good few minutes, staring at a blank screen and wondering what to say. And then the typing bubble popped up on Keith’s end, and Lance’s heart starting pounding in his chest. Keith was messaging him first!

He waited with bated breath, anxious to see what Keith would say to him. Finally, the typing stopped and a messaged popped up.

12:37 – Keith: Hey

Lance’s sense of humor jumped out before he could stop it.

12:37 – Lance: great first line, 10/10, would definitely say hey to again

12:37 – Keith: It’s the safest thing to say!

12:38 – Lance: and also the most boring! half the time when i get a “hey” i never even respond

12:38 – Keith: But you responded to me?

12:38 – Lance: astute observation, keith

12:38 – Lance: i was actually about to message you myself

12:38 – Keith: And what would your first line have been?

12:39 – Lance: see that’s exactly what i was debating

12:39 - Lance: it’d have to be funny and witty enough to get you to respond

12:40 – Lance: but i was starting to panic and probably would’ve sent something along the lines of “what’s cookin good lookin”

12:41 – Keith: That’s horrible.

12:41 – Lance: i SAID i was starting to panic

12:41 – Lance: anyway, i didn’t know u were into guys

12:43 – Keith: I didn’t know you were either.

12:43 – Lance: i’m into everyone! the world has a lot of beautiful people and i’m here for em all

12:43 – Keith: And do you message all of them within the first ten minutes of matching?

12:44 – Lance: only the cute ones who swipe right on my profile while we’re in class ;)

Lance waited. And waited. Five whole minutes passed. Finally:

12:49 – Keith: Oh my god.

12:49 – Lance: stop i loved it

12:49 – Lance: i’ve never had the pleasure of seeing someone scroll through my profile before

12:49 – Lance: and for the record, the little guy in my profile is my nephew

12:50 – Keith: I figured. You’ve mentioned having a nephew you were obsessed with before.

Lance was grinning at his phone like an idiot. All around him, people were reading textbooks or typing away on their laptops, and Lance was sitting in one of those comfortable armchairs, messaging a guy on Tinder like his life depended on it.

He didn’t even remember mentioning that to Keith, but Keith did. He wondered if Keith had been attracted to him too, all those times that they’d shared classes and done projects together. Had admired him the same way he’d admired Keith.

12:52 – Lance: listen, do you wanna maybe get lunch sometime? i don’t have a car so we could get something on campus if you’re interested

12:53 – Keith: Oh, so you didn’t just swipe right wanting to hook up?

12:53 – Lance: do NOT get me wrong, i’d love to see everything that that tank top didn’t show

12:53 – Lance: but also you’re a really cool guy so i wouldn’t mind hanging out with you either

12:54 – Keith: Well I do have a car, so maybe we could go to that karaoke bar sometime.

12:54 – Lance: i have to warn you now, despite how professional i look in that picture, i’m no singer

12:55 – Keith: Well we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?


Lance yelped, earning glares from all the people working studiously around him. He looked up to see Pidge standing in front of him, her laptop in hand and her hair its usual careless mess around her head. She was studying him through those giant glasses of hers, the light shining off them so that he couldn’t actually see her eyes.

“Pidge,” he greeted. “What’s up? What’re you doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you,” she said. “Lance? In the library? Make it make sense.”

Lance snorted, but he turned his phone towards her. “I’m talking to Keith,” he said. And then added, “on Tinder.”

Pidge gaped at him. “Keith Keith? Like the Keith? The one you wouldn’t shut up about last semester?”

“Fuck off,” Lance said. And then, “Yes.”

Without warning, Pidge pulled out her phone and took a picture of him. Lance was caught off guard, still holding his phone and sitting in the chair, his mouth open as he gaped in surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked immediately. And then, “Delete it.” He hated having pictures taken when he wasn’t ready. No one needed that kind of fodder in their camera roll.

“No way,” Pidge said. “This is the before picture.”

“Before what?”

“Before you were totally whipped,” she said. And without a goodbye, she walked away. Knowing her, she was probably already texting Hunk, picture included. Predictably, Lance’s phone started buzzing two minutes later, and Lance sighed as he resigned to respond to Hunk’s all caps texts.


Lance wasn’t the type to get nervous about dates. It seemed totally backwards, if you asked any of his friends, because Lance could find it in himself to get worked up about anything. The classes he was planning on taking, the outfit he would wear for a big event, the present he was going to pick out for his mom.

But dates were his thing. He was good at them, totally in his element. Somehow, he always knew just the right thing to say. He had perfect date etiquette, and more times than not, he got called up for a second date.

Knowing this, Lance couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous about tonight. And with somebody he already knew! Keith was cool, and they were already lowkey friends, so it wasn’t like this was going to be weird. There wouldn’t be any horrible awkward silences or struggling to find things they had in common.

Maybe it was just because there was the possibility that at the end of the night, Lance might finally get to see Keith naked. It was something he’d fantasized about before, but that wasn’t exactly out of character for him. He could imagine practically anyone naked, and considering how attractive Keith was, it made sense that he’d found his way into Lance’s late-night fantasies before.

Besides, that’s not the only way he’d imagined Keith. During moments of weakness, he’d imagined Keith growing tired and resting his head on his shoulder as they’d worked on projects together. Or bumping into each other out on the quad. Or seeing one another over the heads of strangers as they danced in a club, not realizing that the both of them were there. So what if Lance had an active imagination? Sue him.

It’d been a few days since their initial match-up on Tinder. They’d had class together twice sense then, and both times they’d made eye contact and nodded and smiled at each other. Keith had been kind of blushy the first time, which was adorable. The second time, he’d walked beside Lance as they’d left the class and struck up a conversation.

It was Keith who’d asked if Lance was free tonight, Saturday night, and it was Lance that had pushed for the karaoke bar. Despite what he’d said, he wasn’t exactly an atrocious singer, and getting up on stage with someone could be one of the best ways to bond. Plus, Lance wouldn’t mind getting a couple drinks in his system for this date with Keith. You know, the inexplicable nervousness and all.

Now, he was waiting in his apartment for Keith to pick him up. Hunk had offered to drop him off at the bar, being the kind soul with the absolutely shittiest car known to man parked outside their apartment, but Keith had offered to drive and Lance wasn’t about to pass that up, nervousness or no.

“You’re gonna do great,” Hunk said comfortingly, patting Lance’s shoulder as they sat on the couch, Lance’s phone in his hand and his hand on his knee, which was bouncing up and down at lightspeed.

“Yeah, and if you don’t, you can ghost him,” Pidge said not-so-comfortingly.

“Thanks, Pidge,” Lance said.

“Ignore her,” Hunk said. “It’ll be a lot of fun. You’ll make Keith laugh a lot and he’ll ask you out on a second date.”

“AHH!” Lance said, just to get his nerves out. And then his phone lit up with a text from Keith and he did it again. They’d moved off the app and to actual texting pretty quickly. And even though they hadn’t talked all that much in class, they’d been doing a lot of texting the last couple of days. Lance would pepper Keith with inane thoughts throughout the day, and Keith would send him pictures of random things, like his cat sitting on his feet (“I can’t move :/”) or a crowd of people gathered around the dining hall (“I think there’s a hate preacher over there.”) (Lance knew there’d been a hate preacher – he was one of the people over there telling him that what he was saying wasn’t what Christianity was all about. He would know, he’s grown up with Christianity after all.)

Now, Keith’s text just said: Here.

He wasn’t exactly the most elegant texter, but Lance didn’t mind. There was something kind of endearing about his lack of expression over text, and it made every occasional emoji of his all that more special.

He texted back, coming!!

“I gotta go,” Lance announced to the room, still staring at the phone. His heart was beating all fast again. It did that an unfair amount when Keith was involved.

“Go get ‘em tiger!” Hunk said, and he moved to ruffle Lance’s hair before Lance screeched and dodged out of the way. It had taken an insane amount of styling to get it to this perfectly un-styled look.

“Yeah, go get that dick Lance!” said Pidge.

“Never talk to me!” Lance called back as he closed the door behind him. He hurried down the wooden steps and emerged at the front the apartment building. Keith’s car was idling at the front curb, and he looked up as Lance approached, smiling.

“Hey there,” he said, his window rolled down. Lance skirted in front of the car and climbed in beside him, responding a bit breathlessly with his own greeting.

“You ready?” Keith said, and Lance nodded as he buckled up.

“I promise not to ruin your hearing forever with my singing,” Lance said.

“I don’t,” said Keith as he pulled away. He handed his phone to Lance, telling him to pick a song. Don’t ask Lance why, but that was the most adorable shit, even if it was a lot of pressure. He went to Keith’s Spotify app, scrolling through a few of his playlists. Some of them had reasonable names like, “car rides,” or “pregame,” but after that they deteriorated. One was named, “bleh,” and just a few after that they started to become a random jumble of letters. Lance had no idea how he kept track of which were which. Lance’s own app was meticulously organized, the playlists either given names for the type of moods of the songs or the dates of when he made them.

Lance settled on “car rides” and hit shuffle, but not even halfway through the first song Keith ended up turning the music way down so they could hear each other better. The conversation flowed as naturally as it always did, and it took Lance a minute to realize when they’d actually arrived at the bar. They’d just been sitting in the car in the parking lot, too wrapped up in their conversation to actually get out of the car.

It wasn’t until Keith turned the car off that Lance realized they were there, and they both got out, talking over the roof. Lance lost track of the conversation when he finally took in Keith’s outfit, though. He was wearing a tank top similar to the one in his Tinder profile, but this one didn’t look like it was made to be worked out it. It also dipped down towards his ribs and left his arms on sinful display. His hair was pulled up into an almost careless looking bun on the back of his head, but if Lance was any expert (and he liked to assume he was), Keith had likely agonized over it for as long as Lance had with his own hair.

Both Keith’s shirt and jeans were completely black, which just made his hair and eyelashes seem darker. Somehow, they also made his pupils seem lighter. Before, Lance had assumed they were brown, but now he could tell that they were actually just a dark blue, almost purple in their intensity.

As for Lance, he was wearing something similar to what he’d worn on his last karaoke trip. Black jeans and an orange, Hawaiian-esque button down (which he knew he’d be unbuttoning further and further throughout the night). He’d forgone the cheek glitter this time around.

The bar was already loud and crowded for so early in the night. A group of girls were standing on the stage, giggling into the mic and only occasionally getting all the lyrics right. But then a rap verse came up and one of the girls pushed forward, hitting every word perfectly and drawing cheers from the crowd.

“I’ll get us drinks if you want to find us a table?” Lance offered, and with Keith’s nod, Lance was off. He nodded at the bartender, a funky and fun guy that Lance had taken a liking to the last few times he’d met him. He was British or Australian or something and extremely eccentric. He greeted Lance by name at the bar, which led Lance to believe that he might’ve had a few drinks too many the last time he was here, because he didn’t exactly remember introducing himself.

“Two beers please,” Lance said, sliding his card across the table. “And a shot too, actually.” (Just for the residual nerves.)

Normally, Lance preferred something fruity and fun. Drinks like those had a higher alcohol content and actually tasted better than beer, but he figured he wasn’t trying to get drunk off his ass and he didn’t really want to return to Keith with something like a martini in his hand.

“Coming right up, my boy!” the bartender said, and Lance downed the shot with a grimace before grabbing the drinks and finding Keith at a booth. His cheeks already felt a little flushed when he got there, probably a mixture of the alcohol and the heated atmosphere.

“Here you are,” Lance said, setting the drink in front of Keith. And then he slid into the same side of the booth as him, because he was that kind of guy. He scooted close enough that their sides were touching, the both of them facing the stage.

“I’m definitely going to need a few more of these before I get up there,” Keith said. He was still staring at the stage as he said it, but he was leaning into Lance’s side. Lance casually put his arm on the booth behind Keith. He pretended not to see the little smile that lit up Keith’s face.

“Don’t worry, I will too,” Lance said. “I always reach a point where embarrassment is a feeling I forget about.”

Keith chuckled and Lance grinned. A few more people went up on stage, some good and some absolutely terrible, but everyone was obviously having fun. Keith got the next round, and surprisingly, he returned with cocktails. He looked kind of sheepish.

“They taste better,” he admitted.

I love you, Lance almost blurted. Instead, more reasonably, he said, “You’re a goddamn genius, Kogane.”

With the next round of drinks, they got even more cozy with each other. Keith practically sunk into Lance’s side, and Lance couldn’t stop playing with the little wispy hairs that escaped from Keith’s bun at the back of his neck, utterly fascinated. Lance was feeling flushed and warm, just about ready to get on stage and sing to his heart’s content. He’d unbuttoned the top button of his shirt at one point, and Keith’s hand had followed right behind his, unbuttoning the next. Lance’s entire body was humming.

Together, they went up to the bar and took a shot. The bartender was grinning at Lance when they went up together, and Lance and Keith hooked arms and took their shots at the same time. It wasn’t so bad this time around, with other alcohol in his system.

The lights were bright although the room was dark, and the music was thrumming through the room, the bass reverberating through Lance’s feet. Lance was at that perfect point, where when he turned his head the room seemed to follow just a fraction of a second slower. It was loud enough that he and Keith had to lean into each other and talk directly into one another’s ears to be heard. Up at the bar, they scrolled through Keith’s phone together, looking for a song they both knew.

“That one!” Lance said suddenly, clicking on a song on Keith’s phone. It started to play, but the bar was loud enough that it couldn’t be heard.

“Oh my God, no,” Keith laughed. “I don’t even know why it’s on my phone.”

“Because it’s a BOP,” Lance said, leaning into him and grinning into his face. “C’mon, you know the words, right?”

“Who doesn’t?” Keith scoffed, and that was that. They pushed towards the stage, and there wasn’t much of a line, so they only had to wait after one or two performances before they were choosing their song and getting up onto the stage. At some point, Lance had undone another button.

Lance had already agreed to do the girl parts, and Keith had promised to try not to mess up the fast parts, so they were settled. The lights were blinding and Keith’s eyes were gleaming. Those wispy hairs of his were already stuck to the back of his neck. They hadn’t even done anything, and yet he already looked wonderfully debauched.

“Am I messing you up?”


“Didn’t think so,” Lance said, the words projected on the karaoke screen. The music kicked in and Promiscuous Girl was playing.

“How you doin’ young lady? That feeling you giving really drives me crazy,” Keith started. He’d had as much to drink as Lance, and yet the fast lyrics didn’t seem to trip him up at all. He wasn’t even looking at the screen and he was singing all the words perfectly. Lance got the feeling that he was a bigger fan of the song than he’d pretended to be.

Lance was straight up beaming, starting to dance just a little where he stood next to Keith, who was really getting into it.

Lance jumped in. “You lookin’ for a girl that’ll treat you right?” he sang, rolling his body obnoxiously. The crowd cheered.

“You might be the type if I play my cards right, I’ll find out by the end of the night,” said Keith, his eyes just a little bit darker.

“You expect me to just let you hit it?” Lance said, gesturing to himself. There were whoops are hollers from the crowd. “But will you still respect me if you get it?”

A few lines later, the chorus came, and Lance and Keith were bouncing up and down, leaning in towards each other whenever it was their line.

“Promiscuous girl, wherever you are, I’m all alone and it’s you that I want!” Keith sang.

“Promiscuous boy, you already know, that I’m all yours – what are you waiting for?”

The more the sang, the more into it they got, and the funnier it was. By the end, they were laughing between verses and leaning into each other. They actually hadn’t sounded all that bad, and they’d gotten the audience laughing with them. Everyone cheered as the song finished, and Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and forced him to bow with him.

Despite the sexual undertones of the song, Lance was feeling more giggly than horny. He had an arm wrapped around Keith’s waist as he led them back to their booth, which was still miraculously vacant.

“My brother could pick us up whenever we’re ready to go,” Keith said. “I’m not exactly in a state to drive.”

“That’d be awesome,” Lance said. His nose was pressed into Keith’s hair. It smelled like apples. “If he can’t get us, my roommate can.”

“I’d invite you back to my house, but Shiro’ll be there, and that’s not exactly something I want him around for.”

Lance giggled. “Same here,” he said. “I have two roommates, and they’re both the nosiest people I’ve ever met. I’ll let you know if they’re ever both out of the house at the same time.”

“Shiro goes home every couple of weekends to visit his parents,” Keith offered casually. He was looking at Lance out of the corner of his eye, though.

“Love that for us,” Lance said, and Keith laughed. Lance had to restrain himself from kissing his neck as he threw his head back.

Shiro couldn’t make it for another hour, during which time they both had another beer. And then Keith had the great idea to get back on stage, this time alone.

He wouldn’t tell Lance which song he was doing, saying it was a surprise, but Lance pushed up to the front of the crowd so he could see him. Keith looked good like this. The lights were shining on him, making his skin gleam with sweat. His eyes were just the littlest bit hooded from the alcohol and his hair was coming more and more undone. He looked like sex embodied.

“Damn you look so good with your clothes on,” Keith sang. His eyes slid down, and he looked right at Lance. “And I’m not trying to come off too strong.”

Lance found himself swaying with the crowd. Keith, very honestly, wasn’t a bad singer at all. His voice was low and a little raspy and fuck, he was very much doing things to Lance’s body.

“And I can’t deny I want your body,” Keith continued a few lines later. “But I’m a gentleman, so I’ll be the one to take it slowly.” He winked. He goddamn winked. He started singing towards the crowd, and somehow he looked like an actual rock-star, even with the slow song. Lance couldn’t help it - he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. This was something he’d want to remember forever.

“I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long.” Keith’s body was swaying with the music, and his eyes kept flicking to Lance, his lips pulled up in a grin. “Darling I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move.”

It continued just like that, with Keith looking like the hottest date Lance had ever managed to get and Lance drooling all over the stage, staring up at him.

He finished just in time, his phone chiming with a text from Shiro. Together, they made their way out of the bar, and Lance couldn’t even find the right words to say. Eventually, he managed, “You were really good up there,” but he squeezed Keith’s side, his arm wrapped around his waist, hoping he knew how much he really meant it.

Keith climbed into the backseat of Shiro’s car with him, and Shiro made a joking comment about being an Uber driver now. He kept looking at Lance in the rearview mirror. Lance wondered if he should take his arm off of Keith’s shoulders.

“This your apartment?” Shiro said when they pulled up, and Lance nodded.

“Yes! How much do I owe you?” he joked.

“Very funny,” he said. And then, “A picture of Keith singing karaoke.”

“Doesn’t exist,” Keith said, sounding grateful. Whoops. Then, “Come on Lance, I’ll walk you to the door.”

Together, they climbed the flight of stairs and stopped in front of Lance’s door, thankfully on the other side and out of Shiro’s view.

“I had a great time tonight,” Lance offered.

“Me too,” said Keith. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten on that stage without you. I was actually really nervous.”

“Well, you didn’t look it,” Lance said. Keith grinned.

“I wanted to impress you,” he said.

“Impress me, you did,” Lance said. He was leaning against the doorjamb and staring at Keith’s lips, but Keith was just standing there, not getting the hint at all. Unable to wait for Keith to catch on any longer, he reached out and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Keith’s jeans, dragging him closer.

Keith’s face went red, but Lance didn’t get to appreciate that color on him for too long, because soon his eyes were closed and their lips were pressed together. Keith’s mouth was warm, and he tasted like beer and slightly like that fruity drink from earlier. His hands were on Lance’s waist, strong and warm, burning where just a few of his fingers had slipped under Lance’s shirt.

When Keith finally pulled away, he looked just the tiniest bit dazed. And then his eyes darted to the right and he looked embarrassed. “Um.”

Lance whipped around, finding Pidge and Hunk standing there with the door open. Hunk was barely able to contain his grin.

“Hello,” Pidge said. Fucking gremlin.

“Get out of here!” Lance said, trying to shoo them away to no avail. “Keith, I’m so sorry.”

But Keith was done being embarrassed, he was just laughing. “It’s okay,” he said, and he leaned in to peck Lance’s cheek chastely. “I’d better get going anyway. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lance said, grinning. He wanted to kiss Keith again. He wanted to devour him. But Keith was turning and heading towards the stairs, waving as he started down them.

“I’m going to kill you guys,” Lance told his friends as he shut the door behind them. And then he leaned against it and pulled out his phone. After all, Keith had told him to text him.

by unforeseen circumstances, my roommates will be dying tragic deaths come next weekend. i’ll be all alone in my apartment. might need some company to keep the murderers away

Keith’s response was immediate. Funny, the same thing’s happening at my apartment next weekend. Except instead of dying, Shiro’s visiting home.

even better, Lance said. then we won’t have to worrying about murderers barging in on us… unless you’re into that?

Very funny, Lance. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.

And then, immediately following that: And maybe for lunch.

Lance was standing there, grinning against the door, and before he could react, Pidge took his picture again. Later, their neighbors would knock on their door and ask them to keep it down so late at night, because they could swear they’d heard screaming and things being thrown. Hunk would play dumb, and Lance would be sitting on top of Pidge in her room, trying his best to suffocate her with a pillow.