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Don't be Lazy

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Keith knows he looks good. 


He’s wearing a tailored dress shirt in a deep shade of plum that brings out the rich, violet undertones in his eyes. He keeps his collar loose with a few buttons undone, enough to expose a small slip of skin, the jut of his collarbones. Overtop, Keith wears his leather jacket— he runs hot, so it’s all the protection he needs against the late November air. 


His shirt tapers into a pair of sleek, fitted jeans that sit perfectly at his waist and hug his ass just right. To match his jacket, he has on his black combat boots. His hair is tied back neatly with the exception of some loose hairs he tugs free to frame his face, finishing off with just the slightest bit of black eyeliner to really make his eyes pop. 


And underneath… cherry red lingerie. A birthday present to himself. He loves the way the lingerie makes him look, how it makes him feel. 


He also loves the way Lance looks at him when he wears it, a mix of reverence and want that makes Keith shiver all the way down to his bones. 


When Lance lays his eyes on Keith for the first time that night, it’s sweet. It really is. The way Lance looks at him, like he’s the only thing in the room. The love and adoration clear on his face.


But Keith knows. Knows that below his boyfriend’s affection is something else. Something hungry. It has Lance glued to his side all night, hands always touching— the small of his back, his waist, his arms. Lance never lets him get far. 


And, Lance isn’t looking too shabby himself— he meets Keith at their dinner reservation, having to come straight from work. With no time to change, he’s still clad in the fitted, white button down and grey dress pants he wore to work that morning. Except now, the deep, red tie he wears is loosened at his collar, and his shirt sleeves are rolled casually up his forearms. He doesn’t forgo his blazer completely, but settles on slinging it lazily over his shoulder, probably because he knows it drives Keith crazy.


As much as Keith likes to tease— as much as he enjoys winding Lance up, up, and up with fleeting touches, heated gazes, and low, whispered promises directly into his ear— he knows that the best part of the night isn’t until later. 


Isn’t until they get back home, and it’s Lance’s turn. 


It makes Keith’s gut curl with anticipation. He knows exactly what he’s doing to Lance. Does it on purpose. And the best part is… Lance knows that Keith does it on purpose. Yet, Lance still struggles to keep himself at bay all evening, and it makes Keith fizzle with excitement. 


True to Keith’s expectations, when they finally end up back at their apartment, wine drunk, giggling, and flushed, Lance is all over him. 


“You’re such a tease,” Lance says, playful. He nibbles at his earlobe as he corners Keith against the wall in their front hall, door barely having enough time to click shut behind them. Keith simply hums, like he hasn’t the slightest clue what Lance means. “Such a brat,” Lance whispers, low, licks a long stripe up the column of Keith’s neck. Keith tries to contain the shiver that wracks through him with little success. 


“Whatever,” Keith huffs, attempting to keep his voice even, not wanting Lance to know just how keyed up he already is. “You love it.”


Now, it’s Lance’s turn to hum, a deep, throaty pitch. “I do,” he says, low. Against Keith’s throat, breath hot. “You look so good tonight,” Lance praises, pressing himself closer to Keith as he slips deft fingers under the hem of Keith’s shirt, holds his waist with warm palms. “So good for me.” Lance punctuates the remark by sucking a mark into his neck, and Keith bites his lip to hold back a moan. 


“Lance,” he says, breathless. “Quit playing around, come on.” Keith squirms in his grasp, getting impatient. He feels Lance smile against his neck, a sly, thin spread of his lips. Lance nips at the mark he just made, at the quickly reddening skin. 


“Who’s playing?” Lance slides his hands further up Keith’s shirt. Keith leans heavy against the wall, breathing deep. Lance comes out from his hiding place in the crook of Keith’s neck, takes a moment to admire the red, spit slick marks he’s left there. He noses his way along Keith’s jaw, his cheek, leaving warm kisses in his wake, until he gets to Keith’s lips. Then, he meets Keith’s eyes, gaze molten. 


Keith glares at him, but there’s no bite— it’s a little game they always play. Keith is weak to Lance’s attention, always has been. But he’s stubborn, God damn it, and he’ll be damned if he lets Lance on to just how true that fact is. The rational portion of his brain tells him that Lance already knows this, but the stubborn half refuses to give up the fight so easily. So Keith glares, trying his best to keep his breathing even as Lance smirks down at him, eyes flitting down to his lips and back up again in a slow, teasing drag. 


Keith groans, frustrated, lifts his hands to tangle in Lance’s hair and then drags him down to meet his hungry mouth. Lance laughs into the kiss, at the messy desperation behind it, but Keith hardly cares, not when he finally has Lance’s mouth where he wants it. He nips at Lance’s bottom lip, licks into his mouth like he’s wanted to do all night, and Lance indulges him, kisses him hungrily back. Meets his intensity with a fervour that makes Keith’s head spin. 


Lance continues his ministrations up Keith’s shirt, gets to his chest, and stops. Lance pulls back— the both of them panting lightly, mouths still connected by a thin trail of spit. Keith reaches upward and breaks the trail by running his thumb over Lance’s bottom lip, pressing the wetness into the skin. Lance stares intently at Keith, eyes boring into him, runs his thumbs over the delicate lace covering Keith’s chest, deliberate this time. 


“I thought it was your birthday,” Lance says, eyes sparking with an intensity Keith’s come to crave. “But here you are, wrapped up like a present just for me.” The words make Keith want to keen. But instead, he forces a frown. 


“It is my birthday,” Keith says without hesitation, indignant. “This is my present.”


“Oh?” Lance slides his fingers under the thin lace, rubs his thumbs lightly over Keith’s nipples. Keith shivers at the touch, just light enough to leave him wanting more. His nipples peak as he shivers and Lance’s responding grin is downright devilish. “When are you going to open your present then, I wonder?” 


Keith pushes Lance back with a sturdy palm, and Lance looks surprised until he meets Keith’s eyes. Keith can feel his own gaze burning, burning, burning and he knows Lance feels it in the way he stares back at him. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, sly, pitching his voice a low, sultry tone that he knows will go straight to Lance’s dick. Then, he grabs Lance by the hand and practically drags his boyfriend to their bedroom. 


When they get there, Lance leans against the foot of their bed, arms resting behind him and propping him up. His posture makes the strong line of his shoulders stand out below the fitted shirt he wears, making Keith’s mouth go dry. 


Lance doesn’t touch Keith, just stares, like he’s waiting for something. Keith ignores him, walks over to their dresser and takes in his reflection. His lips are slightly swollen and his eyeliner is a little smudged. It makes him look wild— the red lips, his red cheeks, the dark, deep colour of his eyes and hair all against light, milky skin. He runs a thumb under his eyes, cleaning up just a little. He knows he looks good like this, which makes him grin at his own reflection. 


Lance tuts from behind him. “Quit playing around, Keith, come on,” he drawls, repeating Keith’s words from earlier. Keith turns, glare apparent. But, as always… two can play at this game. Keith smiles something coy. 


“Who’s playing?” he asks, leaning against the dresser that’s now at his back. 


“Keith…” Lance’s tone is a low thing, almost a growl. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, stern and unwavering. Keith basks in it, the way it makes all the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. 


Without further preamble, he meets Lance’s gaze directly and undoes his shirt buttons, painfully slow, one by one. Until his bare skin is exposed, the red lace at his chest a loud pop of colour. Lance’s eyes fall to it, never straying. 


Keith saunters over to Lance, plants himself between his lovers legs. Lance reaches forward to grab his hips, but Keith swats his hands away. Lance levels him with a heated stare, a raised brow. 


“You don’t want me to help?” Lance whispers, his hands reaching forward and ghosting up Keith’s bare sides. Not touching him, but close enough that Keith can feel the heat radiating off of Lance’s skin. Lance leans in close, breathes out long and hot against the base of Keith’s throat, causing goosebumps to break out along his skin. Still being careful not to touch him, Lance hooks his thumb underneath the side band of his lingerie and lets it snap back to his skin. “You sure you don’t want me to touch you, baby?” Lance flits his eyes up to look at Keith again, two deep pools of blue hidden under long, wispy lashes. Keith’s breath hitches. 


“I—” Keith’s head spins. Every time he breathes in, all he can smell is the way Lance’s heated skin mingles with his cologne. It smells like the sweetness of coconuts under a hot, summer sun mixed with something heavy, something deep and rich like caramel. Keith’s dizzy with it, intoxicated by it, but more than anything else— he wants it.


“You..?” Lance taunts. Without touching his skin, Lance’s fingers sneak up to Keith’s collar and push back his shirt until it falls down his shoulders and onto the carpeted floor. Then, he slides two fingers through the loops of Keith’s jeans, drags him forward with a force that has Keith pressing into the V of Lance’s open legs. He can feel Lance against him, a hard, solid line. A shaky moan escapes his lips, and Lance eats up the sound. 


“Touch me, then,” Keith huffs, averting his gaze. He tries to make his tone sound commanding, but his voice trembles on the way out. A blush spreads through him at the sound, up his chest, his neck, his cheeks. It’s hot, so hot, and only succeeds in further fogging his mind, further egging Lance on. 


Lance smirks, tugs on Keith’s belt loops again, causing him to lean forward, crane into Lance’s space. Lance hums, grazes his teeth up the jut of Keith’s neck. 


“What do you say?” Lance asks, sweet as sugar. Keith scowls, purses his lips, but says nothing. “What do you say, kitten?” he prods, this time followed by a devastating roll of his hips against where they’re still pressed together. Keith gasps, high pitched and needy. 


“Lance!” He bites, willpower slowly fading. 


“Hmm?” Lance blinks up at him, the picture of innocence, yet he rolls his hips again, tugs Keith even closer as he does. The pleasure burns through Keith, searing hot. “Did you think I was going to go easy on you, just because it’s your birthday?” 


“Please,” Keith whispers, reluctant. He starts to squirm in Lance’s hold, prompting Lance to abandon his belt loops in favour of getting a firm hold of his hips. 


“Hmm... didn’t quite catch that,” Lance chuckles, low, and Keith groans. He tries to move his hips on his own, press closer to Lance, but Lance’s grip keeps him still. 


“Please…” Keith swallows, clears his throat. He keeps his gaze stubbornly pinned to the wall next to them, refusing to meet Lance’s eyes. 


Lance is still for one long, drawn out moment. Long enough that Keith starts to squirm under his gaze. But then, a strong hand is cupping at Keith’s jaw, holding tight, just short of painful. Lance turns Keith’s face, forcing Keith to finally meet his eyes. 


Lance’s face is like stone, sharp lines schooled into a neutral expression. However, it isn’t his expression, but the look in his eyes that has Keith unravelling in his palm. Lance’s gaze pins him in place, leaving him feeling exposed and breathless. 


Struggling with Lance is like struggling against the tide. Eventually, inevitably, it’s going to pull him under. 


And Keith’s going to let it. 


“Please what?” Lance asks, voice low and hard around the edges. Yet, there’s something enticing about it, something sweet that lures Keith further in. “You have to tell me what you want, Keith.” 


Keith exhales, a flimsy, shaky thing, trying his best to suppress a whimper. “P-please,” he whispers. Lance raises a brow. “Please touch me, Lance—” 


Lance smirks, lets go of Keith’s chin. He moves his hands down to grab at Keith’s ass and stands, his firm hold the only thing keeping Keith steady as he does. Then, in one smooth motion, Lance lifts Keith to his waist, turns around, and tosses him lightly to the bed. Keith blinks once, twice, as he bounces against the mattress. 


Instantly, Lance is crawling over him, staring down at his form with a smug grin. Keith fidgets under his gaze, prompting Lance to hush him softly. He sweeps the warm pad of his thumb up the blushed expanse of Keith’s cheek and then he dips down, takes Keith’s earlobe between his teeth. “Hush, baby,” he cooes in his ear. “Relax. Let me take care of you.” 


Keith throbs where he’s still trapped in his tight jeans. The pressure is almost unbearable, but at the soft, soothing sound of Lance’s voice in his ear, Keith melts into the sheets, panting softly. 


Keith’s so weak for him. So, so weak. But he’s past the point of caring, especially with Lance now kissing down his neck, his shoulder, his chest. He rubs at Keith over his lace-covered nipple, touch warm and firm, before taking him into his mouth. The wet slide of the fabric against him makes Keith shudder, and then, Lance is hollowing his cheeks and sucking. It makes Keith’s back arch off the bed, a low, needy whine escaping him, prompting Lance to take the nub between his teeth, applying just enough pressure for it to hurt. 


Not one for uneven treatment, Lance kisses his way over to Keith’s other nipple, takes to worshipping it with his tongue as he massages and pinches the former with talented fingers, and it’s almost too much. 


“La— ah Lance,” Keith hisses, and Lance releases him with a wet pop. His boyfriend acknowledges him with a wordless smirk before he continues trailing kisses down Keith’s chest, down his abdomen, down the dark happy trail that leads to the line of his pants. 


Lance stops then, abruptly, rises to knees that he brackets at Keith’s hips. 


“I think… we’re missing something,” Lance smiles, greedily taking in the sight of Keith below him. “Flip over for me, sugar.” 


Keith’s eyebrows pinch, partly in confusion, but mostly because they always do when someone tells him what to do. Lance chuckles, doesn’t wait for Keith to answer. Instead, he leans down to grab Keith’s waist before flipping him over and onto his stomach himself. 


In his surprise, Keith goes easily. It allows for Lance to quickly gather his wrists in one hand as soon as Keith is turned. Lance holds them firm behind his back, pinning Keith to the bed with his hold. 


“W-what are you doing?” He squawks, and Lance laughs again from behind him. Keith turns his head back to see Lance using his free hand to hook under the tie at his collar, loosen it until he can slip it from his neck. 


“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lance asks, almost too casually. Instinctively, Keith starts to struggle in his hold, squirm in his grasp. Lance doesn’t even flinch. “What?” He continues, voice a deep timber that makes Keith freeze. “You don’t want me to?” 


He does. The traitorous voice in the back of Keith’s head answers, heart throbbing in his chest. He does nothing more to fight Lance, simply turns his head to blush and scowl into the sheets. In the meantime, Lance binds his hands. The pull of the tie is tight enough to sting a little; just how Keith likes it. 


He feels Lance lean over him, press a kiss to the top of his shoulder. “You’re so cute,” Lance laughs, nothing but fond. It has Keith’s heart stuttering feebly in his chest. That is, until Lance immediately gets to work, sitting back up and yanking Keith’s jeans down his thighs, legs, and discarding them somewhere at their backs. Keith gasps in surprise, at the sharp relief that being free of his jeans brings. Of course, Lance leaves his lingerie on, the bright red, lacy thong that makes the pale white of his skin look especially enticing. 


Keith feels Lance tap two fingers against the side of his hip. 


“So impatient” Keith huffs, but he immediately obeys, lifting his hips in the air until Lance squeezes at his sides and holds him still. Lance simply chuckles, hums a low, pleased tune that has Keith pressing a whine into the mattress. 


Lance takes his time admiring Keith like this. He squeezes both cheeks in his hands, massaging the soft flesh with his palms. He hooks a thumb under the string of Keith’s thong, moving it to the side before spreading him open. He tuts at the sight of a plug, nipping at the soft flesh of one of Keith’s cheeks.


“You got ready for me?” Lance blows over the plug nestled in Keith’s hole, the shiny, ruby red tip of it. “And I was looking forward to opening you up with my fingers…” 


“You don’t like it?” Keith asks, flitting his gaze back to meet Lance’s. He sways his hips back and forth in Lance’s hold, momentarily distracting him. 


“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” Lance drawls, eyes fixed on where he spreads Keith open with his hands, like he can’t look away. 


Keith feels Lance take hold of the base of the plug and slowly begin to ease it out, causing him to gasp and whine, to squirm despite himself. Lance holds him through it as he teases it out of him, painfully slow. 


The second it’s free, Lance sets it aside in favour of spreading Keith wider, licking a long, hot stripe over his fluttering hole. Keith yelps, body jerking away from Lance’s tongue, but Lance holds him back, pressing Keith back onto his mouth with ease. Keith strains against the tie, balls his fists so hard they turn white at the knuckles. 


“Look at you,” Lance murmurs as Keith pants. “So wet for me already…” his sentence trails off, ending in another lick, a firm press of his tongue. Keith gasps, chokes on it as Lance dips his tongue into him. It’s shallow, a quick in and out, but it has him shaking. Keith’s already soaked straight through the front of his panties, the untouched, angry red of his cock dripping precome onto the sheets below him. 


The way Lance eats him out is absolutely sinful. It’s slick and wet and messy, so good that it has Keith practically sobbing into the bedspread. 


Lance,” Keith whines, voice watery and rough. “Ple—“ Lance swirls his tongue, and Keith cuts off to moan low and broken. 


T-touch me,” Keith says quickly, voice quivering. “Please Lance, please, ha—"


“Where, sugar?” Lance asks, although he already knows the answer, is already sliding a hand to palm at Keith’s erection. 


There!” Keith gasps, body jolting with the feeling. Lance dips his fingers under Keith’s panties, takes to sliding his hand up and down his slick length as he continues to lap at him from behind.


Keith comes like that, on Lance’s tongue, into the warm heat of his palm. And Lance licks him through it, doesn’t stop giving Keith hardly any time to recover from his orgasm before he’s coaxing him back to full hardness. Keith writhes against the sheets, moans loud and wanton as Lance winds him up and up just to slowly take him apart.


Half lucid, Keith angles his head to look behind him. Keith’s gone completely boneless against the sheets, but Lance keeps his hips held up with a firm grip. As well, Keith can’t help but notice that Lance is still fully dressed. Keith stares, hungrily tracing the outline of him through his pants, thick and throbbing, the fabric by his tip starting to wet with precome. Like getting Keith off is all the pleasure he needs.


Keith whines at the sight, a high, pretty thing, and Lance moans in response. Keith can feel the low, sweet rumble of it as it travels under his skin, as Lance presses the flat of his tongue against where he’s most sensitive.


Keith comes for the second time, just like that, with a cry that splinters at the ends. 


Keith doesn’t know how much time passes when he comes to, trembling, with Lance rubbing featherlight touches up his sides, his arms, kissing and mouthing at the soft skin of his neck. “Keith?” he whispers, right into his ear. “You still with me, baby?” Keith groans in response, still panting heavily. 


“I need you to use your words,” Lance hums, continuing his ministrations by sucking a light mark into the back of Keith’s neck. Keith squirms, moaning softly in contention. Every time he moves, the soaked lace of his panties rubs against him, making him tense. He bites at his lip, restraints pulled taut, as he struggles against the sensitivity. 


“The lace,” Keith gasps. Lance hums in affirmation, but he finishes sucking another mark into Keith’s neck before he sits up. Lance slides his fingers along Keith’s hips, under the band of his underwear, and then lowers the garment down Keith’s thighs. Keith sighs with relief, Lance chuckling from behind him. 


“That’s all you want?” Lance asks, guiding the panties down to rest just above Keith’s knees. He runs his fingers back up Keith’s legs via the soft skin of his inner thigh, making Keith shiver. Lance spreads his cheeks again, taking in the slick, swollen pucker of his hole with a low growl that makes Keith whimper softly. Lance swirls a thumb over it, slow and languid, before dipping it inside, and Keith aches , can already feel his dick twitching with renewed interest. He doesn’t know when Lance grabbed lube, but he must’ve judging by how easy the slide is, how good it feels.


“No,” Keith croaks, cheek pressing into the mattress. He lifts his ass higher with trembling legs, bows his back in a pretty curve he knows Lance will love. 


“No? You don’t want anymore?” Lance prods from behind him. The mattress dips and shifts beneath him as Lance moves, and then Keith feels his boyfriend pressing himself between his cheeks, hard and throbbing. Still fully clothed, Lance ruts against him softly, just enough pressure to make Keith whine in frustration. 


“Come on, Kitten,” Lance coaxes, voice soft, as he starts rubbing soothing circles into Keith’s hips with his thumbs. “You know I can’t until you ask.” 


“I want it,” Keith says, voice cracking along the edges. He turns his head to the side, craning his neck so that he can meet Lance’s eyes. 


“You look so pretty like this, Keith,” Lance groans, low and sweet, rolling his hips against him nice and slow. “Tell me exactly what you want, baby. I’ll give it to you.” 


“I want you,” Keith gasps, desperate, begins moving his hips against his boyfriend. “I want you to fuck me.” Keith’s voice is a low, needy whine. Lance’s fingers twitch at his hips, and Keith watches as he sucks in a breath. “Please, Lance.”


Lance groans, loud and unabashed, and Keith watches with rapt attention as Lance proceeds to undo his pants. He pulls himself out, and Keith gapes, saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of how hard Lance is. His cock is an angry red, hot and pulsing. It drips warm precome onto one of his raised cheeks. 


Lance strokes himself, spreading lube and precome up and down his length, a deep, full bodied moan escaping him at the relief of finally being touched. It makes Keith whine, has him clenching around air, painfully empty. 


“This what you want?” Lance whispers as he lines up, presses his tip against Keith’s wet, puckered entrance. 


Yes,” Keith gasps, and then Lance is finally, finally pressing into him. It has Keith letting out a high, broken moan that Lance echoes from behind him. The thick stretch of Lance sliding into him, the feeling of finally being full, is so good that Keith sobs, wet and broken. He presses his face into the sheets, breathing heavy, and Lance bottoms out with a curse. Keith feels the sharp bite of nails digging into the skin of his hips as he does, and the accompanying sting is enough to make his eyes water. It makes him whine from somewhere deep in his throat, a hoarse, needy pitch that has Lance gripping him tighter.


Lance immediately gets to work, starting with a few slow, experimental thrusts to get Keith used to the feeling before he’s pounding into him in earnest. Having an intimate knowledge of Keith’s body, it takes Lance hardly any time to locate Keith’s prostate, which Keith reveals with a keen, a cry that hardly gets muffled by the bedsheets. 


Lance immediately starts nailing that spot, over and over and over again, until Keith’s a moaning mess, babbling a watery mix of “pleases” and Lance’s name into the open air. 


“You feel so good,” Lance groans, voice strained. At the praise, Keith whines, reflexively tightening around him, causing Lance to moan, low and deep. 


Lance pitches forward, grabs Keith’s bound hands and uses them as leverage to pull Keith back, pull him harder onto his cock as he continues to thrust into him. The force of the new angle has Lance driving in deeper, sharper, punching the air straight from his lungs. 


Keith sobs with the pleasure of it, only lasting a few more thrusts before he’s coming again, untouched. A raw, splintering moan draws its way up his throat and spills from his mouth. Keith gasps, chokes on his own pleasure as Lance doesn’t slow, simply continues fucking him through it. 


Keith’s orgasm seems to last forever and ever, spreading an intense, tingling warmth throughout his body that has his mind going completely blank. His hole spasms, clenching around Lance until his boyfriend follows him over the edge, spilling hot and deep inside of him. Keith whines softly at the feeling, body completely spent as Lance collapses on top of him, warm chest pressed against the span of Keith’s back. 


As he comes down, Lance takes to mouthing at Keith’s neck, his shoulder, whispering praise after praise that he presses into Keith’s hot skin. 


They stay like that for awhile, catching their breaths together. Keith slips in and out of consciousness, the warm press of Lance against him and the exhaustion of his afterglow lulling him to sleep. 


Lance brings him back to the present when he shifts, slowly pulling out of him. Keith’s breath hitches at the sensitivity, too far gone to let any sound escape. He feels it as come starts to drip from his hole, down his taint, warm and wet. Lance moves to slowly untie Keith’s wrists before massaging at the hot, red marks that remain. 


“Keith?” Lance whispers as he continues to gently knead at the sore skin. “I’m going to draw us a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.” 


“Mhm,” Keith hums, quiet, eyes slowly falling shut. Distantly, he feels Lance run his fingers through his hair, place a lingering kiss to his temple. 


The next thing he knows, Lance is lifting him gently from the bed and into his arms. Keith lets out a soft groan at being woken up, at being disturbed from his peaceful slumber, to which Lance only huffs a laugh. He kisses him on the forehead, carries him bridal style over to their ensuite bathroom. “Sorry, babe. But I gotta get you cleaned up,” he whispers. Keith chases his voice, his warmth, nuzzles against him like he’s trying to get under his skin. 


True to his word, Lance had drawn them a bath. The hot, humid air tells him so as they enter the bathroom. The room smells of vanilla and cinnamon— his favourite soap. 


“Keith?” Lance asks, stopping in front of the tub. Keith hums in response.


“I need you to wake up, sweetheart. I’m going to put you in the water,” Lance’s voice is so soft, so soothing. It makes Keith want to listen. 


“Mm awake,” Keith slurs, and he feels Lance’s chest shake with a laugh. 


“I’m putting you in the water now, ‘kay?” 


“Mmkay.” Lance lowers him slowly into the bath. The water is warm, like liquid honey, and he sighs at the feeling. 


The moment Keith’s settled, Lance is getting into the tub behind him, pulling him close to his chest. Lance takes out the elastic still holding his hair up (albeit messily) and starts to comb through Keith’s hair with his fingers. He nuzzles against Keith’s neck, presses his nose to the soft skin just under his ear. 


“Happy birthday, Keith,” he whispers, punctuates it with a soft kiss. Keith leans into his touch, completely content in the warm circle of his boyfriend’s steady arms. 


“Mmm,” he hums, relaxing entirely against the warm expanse of Lance’s chest. “Love you.” 


“I love you too, baby.”