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If there was one thing Keith wanted to do it was to make Lance sit still and shut up.
“Uh, that’s two things,” Lance said. He held up two fingers with a hand, waved the other hand about. Keith watched the motion of his long fingers. “I asked one thing. What’s one thing, anything, that you wish you could do, other than go back home? Me? I’d go to a beach planet. Hell yeah!” He flung his arms out, narrowly missing hitting Keith. “Sand, water, heat, what else could you want?”
Lance kept talking. He kept staring out through the window into space, talking, talking, talking. He kept shifting in his seat, leaning against one arm, then the other, kept flinging out his long limbs.
Something within Keith burned. It was not a recognizable feeling. It was something he wanted to grab in his hands and squeeze, much the same way he wanted make Lance sit still and shut up. These were likely related. As rash as Keith could be, he decided it would be better to leave.
He stood up and stepped back. Lance twisted his torso, looked up at him.
“Goodnight,” Keith said.
“You’re missing out!” Lance said, then turned back and fell silent.
That was one way, Keith supposed, to make Lance shut up. Disengage. He stared at the back of Lance’s neck, the topmost knob of his spine. But, Keith accepted, disengaging was not what he wanted to do. The thought felt heavy, a rock in the pit of his stomach, a weight pressing down on his shoulders.
*
Objectively Keith did not think Lance was cute or attractive or handsome. He was long and skinny, and his lips were too thin, and sometimes when he was surprised his eyes would bug out and he’d stick his head out like a chicken.
(But also, he had these cheekbones that looked like they’d been lovingly sculpted by a higher power, and these hands that had such a wide spread. Those hands plagued some of Keith’s dreams.)
Also, he didn’t know how to fucking sit still.
“I didn’t let you into my room so you could bump into everything,” Keith said.
Lance swung around and glared at him. “I am grace personified.”
Disengage. Keith didn’t say anything.
“Hey! I’m graceful!”
Fuck disengaging. “That’s not the word I would use.”
Lance scoffed. He used practically his entire body to do so. Keith watched the way his lip twisted, the way his torso swayed, his arms flung up.
“Can’t you tone down anything?” Keith asked.
“Dunno what you mean,” Lance replied, now poking about Keith’s closet. He leaned down to look at something. His flat ass stuck into the air.
Keith took a deep breath.
“Could you at least tell me why you’re here?” Lance froze, still bent over. “Hey, I don’t want to stare at your ass, stand up.”
Lance yelped and jumped, hands going to cover the seat of his pants. “Don’t stare at my ass!”
Keith didn’t say anything. But he did roll his eyes.
“I, uh,” Lance said. He was looking embarrassed, something that he did not do very often. He scratched at his cheek. “Shit, I didn’t think this through.”
“Coming from you? Not surprising.”
“You’re the Red Paladin!” Lance shouted suddenly. “You’re the one who doesn’t think things through!”
Keith scowled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean! Who says ‘I want to make you sit still and shut up’ as a ‘what do you wish you could do’ thing? Dude!”
Keith shrugged. “Me, I guess.”
“Dude! There is no ‘me, I guess,’ about this! It was definitely you. And you have put some very uncomfortable thoughts into my mind!”
“Oh,” Keith said. “Sorry?”
Lance pressed his lips together. He was red in the face. He looked like he was forgetting to breathe.
“Don’t pass out,” Keith said.
“Uncomfortable sexual thoughts!” Lance barked out. Then he slapped his hands to his mouth and made for the door.
Keith was faster.
“Explain,” he said, standing in front of the door, hand pressed at it behind him, heart beating fast. He felt like something was close to making sense. He stared right into Lance’s eyes. He smirked. “Don’t you want to make my wish come true?”
Lance spluttered.
“Come on,” Keith whispered.
“I, um, I just. Have been thinking.” Lance blinked quickly at him. He raised a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly looked to the side. Keith did not need to be given a front row seat to Lance’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He did not need to see Lance rub his long neck with his long fingers. “I’ve been thinking about, uh… spanking?”
“What,” Keith said.
“Um.” Lance kept looking to the side. “I’ve been thinking about getting spanked? Yeah. Yeah, I have.”
Keith was suddenly very aware of his blood, pulsing hot through his arms, his legs. He swallowed. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Have you enjoyed thinking about it?”
Lance turned back to look at him. He was sheepish, shy. His shoulders shrugged upwards but he said, “Yeah. A lot.” He was flushed.
Keith felt like he was holding a little diamond in his mouth, something precious he was going to let spill out, now, right now. “Do you want me to? Do you want me to spank you?”
“Yeah,” Lance breathed out.
Everything was suddenly much simpler. “Alright,” Keith said. He moved back to the bed, sat on it so that his calves were pressed against the side panels of the bed. He patted his lap. “Get comfortable.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Lance asked.
“Do you?”
Lance flushed darker. He perched himself on Keith’s lap.
“Not what I meant,” Keith said, and flipped Lance over.
“Oh my god,” Lance said, face pressed into what passed as a bedspread in space. His stupid long legs flailed in the air before coming down to fall on the bed. He squirmed.
There he was, squirming in Keith’s lap. Keith’s breath quickened. He pressed his left hand to the small of Lance’s back. Lance stilled, though Keith could see the way his back rose and fell with his breathing.
Keith kept his hand pressed to Lance’s back, dug the fingers of his right hand into waistband of Lance’s pants. He pulled down.
Lance squawked. “My belt is still on!”
“Hmm,” Keith said. He pulled Lance back up into a sitting position, Lance’s back pressed against Keith’s chest. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, as his hands went to Lance’s belt buckle and undid it, dragged it out of the belt loops and threw it to the side. He undid the top button of Lance’s fly.
Lance slumped against him. His breathing was quick. Keith could tell, from how they were pressed against each other. He liked it.
“You should take your jacket off too,” Keith said.
“Only if you do,” Lance replied.
“Oh, I see.” Keith brought his hands up to Lance’s shoulders and tugged the jacket off. He threw it to the side. It landed next to the belt.
Lance squirmed some more. “I meant, your jacket.”
Keith laughed against Lance’s neck because he could. “Of course.” He slipped it off and threw it to the pile. He let his hands land on Lance’s lap again, let one of his hands brush against the fly of Lance’s pants. “That’s part of what you want too, right?” It was easier to talk about it like this, with the back of Lance’s neck right in front of him.
“Yeah,” Lance said, his head ducking down. The skin shifted over the top knob of his spine. “Not yet, though.”
Keith’s mouth watered. He flipped Lance back over his lap. Pulling his pants down went much easier now. His boxers went down too.
Keith stared at Lance’s flat ass. His shirt was rucked up, held there by Keith’s hand, so Keith could see the expanse of skin from lower back to the top of the thighs. The waistband of Lance’s boxers had left little indentations in the flesh. The elastic of it was now pulling against his thighs, leaving new marks.
“Please,” Lance muttered.
That snapped Keith out of his daze. He brushed his knuckles against one cheek.
“Oh my god,” Lance choked out. “Are you still wearing your gloves?”
“Yeah.” Keith thought about it. He took the glove off his right hand, and put it down next to Lance’s face. “So you can look at it,” he said. “While I spank you. Starting now.”
Lance’s eyes bugged out. He worked his mouth open and close. He squirmed.
Keith smacked him on the ass.
Lance’s breath hitched. He went still.
“Good?” Keith asked. He ran the palm of his hand against where he’d slapped. It was a little warmer.
“Yeah.” Lance nodded too. It moved his entire body.
Keith smacked him again. Lance practically melted against his lap, onto the bed. Keith bit his lip. Gave another hard smack, flexed his hand to get the sting of it out of his palm. He chanced a look at Lance’s face. His mouth was open, some drool slipping out. Keith shifted a bit. He grabbed what he could of one of Lance’s ass cheeks and squeezed. Lance wheezed, thrusted against Keith’s leg. Keith let go and gave another smack.
“Your ass is turning nice and red,” Keith said.
Lance’s face was nice and red too. He made a sound deep in his throat, something that burned its way to Keith’s gut, something that made him shift some more. He could feel Lance’s hard-on pressing against his leg.
Another slap. The sound of it, intermingled with Lance’s heavy breathing, his own heartbeat in his ears, was so sweet to Keith. He dragged his fingertips over the splotchy red on Lance’s ass. It was hot. He pressed down against the flesh in wonder. Lance made another sound.
Keith looked at him. Lance’s eyes were glazed over, his mouth still open. His lips were wet with drool. There were tears in the corners of his eyes. He looked blissed out.
“Good boy,” Keith whispered.
Lance moaned into the bed, a wave of motion going through his shoulders all the way to his hips, another thrust against Keith’s leg. His hand closed around the glove Keith had left next to Lance. The sight of it made Keith press down harder with his fingers. He gave another slap.
Lance whimpered, letting out a series of little ‘ah’s, stretching his neck out. Keith rubbed his gloved hand in soothing circles against Lance’s back.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
When Lance spoke he sounded wrecked. “I want to come.”
Keith tucked his arms under Lance’s thighs and chest and lifted him up as he stood. It wasn’t that hard. Then he rolled Lance over onto the bed. Lance was still holding his glove, his pants were still bunched up around his thighs. Keith crouched over him, looking into his face. He palmed the front of his own pants.
“Oh my god,” Lance muttered. “You spanked me. Oh my god.” He was still flushed, down to his pretty collarbones.
“I can jerk you off too,” Keith said. He stopped rubbing against himself and spat into his bare hand, wrapped it around Lance’s cock.
Lance made a sound like dying. Keith tugged up three times before Lance came.
“Huh,” Keith said.
“No comments allowed,” Lance said, but the words did not have their usual force behind them. He was spread out against the bed, relaxed. He was finally actually still. The come was still dripping down his cock, over Keith’s knuckles. Lance’s shirt was definitely ruined. He didn’t seem to care.
“Well, if you don’t mind.” Keith wiped his hand off on what was bared of Lance’s stomach. He finally undid his own fly, pushed his pants down until his cock was freed.
“Be my guest.” Lance still managed to sound smug, which made Keith roll his eyes.
He jerked himself off over Lance’s stomach, head hanging down, biting his lip. When he came, it was all over Lance. Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter. He slumped down next to Lance.
The itch wasn’t gone. He still felt like he was burning from within. But it was a little calmer.
“We can do this again, right?” he asked.
Lance scoffed. “Obviously.”