Another Snippet
Okay I love this scene so much and you guys won’t get to see it for a long time because it’s like 10+ chapters into the fic. So I’m going to show it to you now and hope that the few of you who see it, forget about it by the time i actually post this chapter. xD
I KNOW I’M NEEDY AND INCAPABLE OF KEEPING THINGS TO MYSELF, OKAY? NO NEED TO CALL ME OUT ON IT. (SAM)
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Keith could feel Lance shaking under him with laughter. "You thought I was drunk?" Lance turned his head sluggishly to face Keith, "You're drunk!"
"I'm not drunk, 'm just tired." Keith yawned.
Keith pressed up with the intention of readjusting himself on top of Lance. As he pulled away he paused, looking down into Lance's flushed face. They were so close that Keith could practically feel Lance lick his lips. His pupils were wide as he looked at Keith, a lopsided grin still on his face. Keith could faintly feel a flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck but his head was too fuzzy to make much of it.
"Hey," He said, leaning his head down to rest against Lance's forehead.
Lance slid his hand up Keith's back and into the hair at the base of his neck. Keith shivered. "Hey," he responded.
"I think— " Keith shook his head.
Lance tilted his head up. "Tell me," He whispered, his lips brushing against Keith's. Keith couldn't bring himself to pull away.
There was something uncoiling in his chest, but he didn't have a name for it. He thought back to the party and the way that stranger had gone to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. He thought back to how quickly he had pulled away, his mind immediately going to Lance. And now, here he was, laying straight on top of Lance, who had his fingers threading through Keith's hair, brushing gently across the skin on his neck. Why had that felt so wrong but this felt so right?
"I don't want anyone else to touch me," He said quietly, the words moving sluggishly past his lips. He wasn't exactly sure what he was saying, or if it properly expressed his thoughts. "Only you."
"Only me," Lance repeated, as if he were seeing how the words tasted. "Yeah. Only me."
"Someone else— someone," Keith paused, trying to collect his words. "They touched my hair."
Lance moved his hand so he was stroking Keith's hair instead. "That's mine."
Through the haze in his brain, Keith could feel some sort of alarm going off, but he ignored it. He felt good. He felt warm and happy and invincible. He had Lance with him and that was how it was supposed to be. He could face anything with Lance by his side. Or underneath him, as the situation was.
This thought seemed to have seized Lance and he met Keith's gaze. "Mine," he repeated, tugging on a strand of Keith's hair. His words were a little slurred, but they were full of genuine emotion. "Mine," he moved his other hand back around Keith's waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "And definitely mine," he said, the hand in Keith's hair holding his head steady as Lance lifted his head the small distance necessary to capture Keith's lips with his own.
