#they put my ao3 in the tags and i’m curious ab how many more there are that just didn’t do that yk

[ghosttotheparty]

found some ppl reccing my fics on tik tok and im losing my whole mind i’m so !!!

[nocturne-overtures]

Kinktober Day 19

Pairing: Dom Kun x Lucas, Hendery, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun

WC: 1.4k

Prompt: Begging + Sex Toys

Genre: Smut

Tags: Begging, Sex Toys, Fucking Machine, Remote Vibrators, Cock Rings, Overstimulation, Ruined Orgasms, Exhibitionism, Frottage, Nipple Play, Brat Taming, Dirty Talk + Light Degredation, Voyeurism, Light Dom Training, Implied Blowjob, Established OT7 Poly Relationship

A/N: I added Xiaojun. Fight me

The full M.List for Kinktober is here, and I’ll be posting and adding links to that post as I go. The prompts span several fandoms, so feel free to check the list to see if you’re interested in any of the future

Day 18                        Day 20

AO3

“Kun-ge please! I’m s-sorry!”

Kun brought a cup of tea up to his lips, sipping calmly before he looked down at his phone.

Five minutes had passed.

He brought up an app on his phone, sliding his hand up a dial and smiling as a chorus of sensitive cries came from behind him.

On his bed, Lucas was cuffed to the headboard, a blindfold over his eyes as Hendery squirmed in his lap. He was seated fully inside of him, drool running down his mouth as a ballgag kept him from fully closing it. Lucas panted, his chest flushed with claw marks, his nipples perked and puffy from Kun’s rough treatment before they started the real punishment for all of them.

Yangyang whined from his place just beside Lucas, babbling in whatever language fell from his lips first. Ten was situated on top of him, sliding their restrained cocks together as the fucking machine Kun had set up pistoned in and out of him. Sweat clung to the older idol’s head as he rutted desperately against Yangyang, chasing an orgasm that wouldn’t come without Kun’s permission.

All of them had vibrating cock rings on them, keeping their desperate need to cum in check.

“Any of you pulling the word?”

Kun was met with a chorus of ‘no’s in different languages and he smiled, turning his music up as he continued producing.

“Then settle down. I’m making music over here. Unless you want to be on the track, too? I’m sure Sicheng and Xiaojun won’t mind just the four of you having a unit song all to yourselves, yes?” He mused.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! Please- ahh fuck please, Ten-ge- please, I need to cum!” Yangyang squirmed below Ten, his hips moving on their own as they rocked upwards. Kun hummed, looking at the app on his phone. He slid one of the dials up and smiled as Yangyang cursed in German, his eyes rolling back as the vibrator in his ass began to stroke at an even higher setting.

“Following Ten and Lucas all the time is gonna get you in trouble, Xiao Yang. You too, Hendery. I don’t know, or care, what kind of things Baekhyun let you two get away with while you were away with SuperM, but I’m Qian Kun, not Byun Baekhyun, and when you’re back here with me, you must know by now that you’re not going to speak to me and act just however you’d like.” Kun hummed, bringing his tea back to his lips.

Hendery whimpered around the gag, and Kun was merciful enough to stand and take it out of his mouth, running his thumb over his lips.

“How does it feel, Dery? Hm? Too much?” He inquired, swiping his thumb over the drool running down his lips before swirling it around his left nipple, pinching lightly. Hendery jolted, clenching around Lucas as he sat down fully, throwing his head back.

“Fuck! N-No, I-I’m okay...W-wanna be good, I-I’m sorry-” He trembled, his blonde hair tickling Kun’s shoulder as he tilted his head back. Kun, satisfied with the answer, turned his head and kissed him, sending a look down at Lucas’s flushed body as he fought the urge to fuck up into Hendery’s lubed up hole.

Idly, Kun remembered just how disobedient and rude Lucas had been as of late. Maybe a bit too comfortable, in his opinion.

He turned his gaze back to Hendery and kissed his temple.

“You wanna be good? You wanna cum?”

“God, yes please.”

“I’ll take the ring off, you just have to fuck yourself on Xuxi until you cum.”

Hendery nods eagerly and Kun rewards him with a kiss, ignoring Yangyang, Ten, and mostly Lucas’ whimpering. Kun reaches between them, sliding the scarlet red cock ring off of him. Hendery whines, resting his head on Kun’s shoulder as he bounces, his cock straining in Kun’s hand as he rode Lucas.

“Kun-hyung, I wanted to see if-” Xiaojun opened the door, his eyes widening as he surveyed the room. His lips parted as he watched Hendery grind down on Lucas’ cock until he came with a scream, shaking. Kun wrapped thick arms around his waist and kissed at his temple, keeping him still as he kept stroking him, smiling coyly as his cum landed all over Lucas’ abs.

Kun kept stroking until Hendery put a trembling hand over his, whining.

Kun let him go and looked over at the doorway, finding Xiaojun standing there with his face beet red. Kun chuckled and licked his hand, arching a brow.

“Like what you see?” He hummed. Xiaojun bit his lip before he nodded. Kun purred at the honesty, lifting Hendery out of Lucas’s lap. He let Hendery lay on a clear part of his bed, letting the blonde catch his breath as he beckoned Xiaojun into the room.

“Do you want to participate? This isn’t Sicheng’s cup of tea, but I’d love to teach you. Especially with how many naughty boys we have in our group. I’m sure they’ve teased you enough for you to be curious to see how it would feel to be on my side of things, no?” Kun purred, looking over at Ten and Yangyang as Ten let out a string of curses in Thai at yet another ruined orgasm.

Xiaojun pushed the door closed behind him and nodded, shuffling over to Kun. Kun kissed him, using his clean hand to cup his cheek before he wiped off his dirty one with a wet wipe he had in a pack on the nightstand. He left Lucas’ abs a mess and motioned for Xiaojun to follow his lead.

“Pay attention.” Kun hummed before he paused the machine, giving Ten a brief reprieve as he freed Yangyang from below him. It was a blessing and a curse because it left his overstimulated cock without any friction or relief. He looked up at the two older idols, his body flushed all the way down to his chest as his cock sat red and throbbing between his legs.

“P-Please, I’ve learned my lesson, I-I’m sorry for being rude, please please please-”

He continued to babble as Kun leaned into Xiaojun’s space, whispering to him. When he was finished, Xiaojun sent him an uncertain look, but he only nodded, looking towards their youngest. Xiaojun leaned down at him, shushing him gently. Yangyang instantly quieted down, looking up at him with big doe eyes. Xiaojun stared at his lips before he pressed his fingers into him, pulling the vibrator free and replacing it with his fingers. Yangyang arched up into him, shaking as Xiaojun kissed his cheekbone before sliding the ring off, stroking him to completion as he whimpered.

Kun watched the two of them before turning to Ten, finding the man sending him a fiery, challenging look. Kun’s lips quirked up as he tilted his chin upwards, looking him in the eyes.

“I take it you haven’t decided to apologize yet for your behavior?” He hummed, his voice dripping like warm honey. Ten only tilted his head, his lips curling up.

“I guess I haven’t. What do we do about this now?” He inquired. If he played his cards right, he could probably provoke Kun into roughly fucking him into these sheets-

Kun was a step ahead, shaking his head as he moved to turn the machine back on, this time all the way, leaving Ten with no one and nothing to rut against, leaving his cock strained and neglected between his legs.

“Fuck!”

”We aren’t gonna do anything. I’m gonna go see if Xuxi is ready to apologize. You can think about your actions more while I’m over there. Remember, Chittaphon,” Kun leaned down to Ten’s level, smiling sweetly despite the look in his eyes that made Ten whine.

“I’m not Baekhyun. You’re not going to get away with disrespecting me, love.”

Ten shuddered at the tone and bit his lip as Kun walked back over to Lucas, pulling the blindfold free. He let Lucas adjust to the light before the younger man looked up, opening his mouth to apologize and beg Kun to let him cum as well. Kun pressed a finger to his lips, shaking his head before he unzipped his pants.

“Oh no, you don’t get to sweet-talk your way out of this, either. I’ve heard enough of your smartass comments for the time being. You can put that mouth to use doing something productive.”

Lucas looked from Kun’s hardness before looking up into his eyes and nodded, opening his mouth. Kun purred in satisfaction, pushing the head of his cock past Lucas’ pillow lips.

“Good boy. Ill teach all of you some manners again, don’t you worry.”

[falseroar]

Silent Watch Part 1: Mr. Jackson

((Hi! A while back I did a monster hunter/werewolf au with Abe and the District Attorney from WKM, called Silver and Peppermint, which I’ve finally put up over on AO3. Speaking of things I should have done a while ago, I’ve had this story sitting in a file on my computer for...longer than I’d like to admit. I’m planning to post one part a day, and hopefully by the time it’s done I will be finished or close to done with this universe’s version of WKM.

This though is a prequel to Silver and Peppermint, taking place before WKM, before Abe met the DA, before Y/N even was a DA. Before a lot of things. This is the story of how Y/N met an actor, but not the one you’re thinking of, and one terrible night that changed both their lives forever.

If you’ve read Silver and Peppermint or are familiar with the character of Jameson Jackson, you might be able to guess where this is going.

Links to Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7.))

The lights strung up all around the field and crisscrossing over the partygoers’ heads provided a soft, uneven glow to everything, but as you went around with tray in hand and a poor attempt at a smile plastered on your face, you noticed more than one of the caterers and locals among the crew looking up at the darkening sky with varying degrees of worry. Despite the many, many reassurances from the town elders and the slightly more flippant response from the assistant director that everything would be fine with the proper precautions, you knew many of your temporary coworkers wished the film crew could have just had their wrap party within the familiar boundaries of the town itself.

“And did it have to be so late?” whispered another caterer when you returned to the staging area for another tray full of ridiculously small appetizers. You recognized him from school; actually, most of the locals hired to fill out the cast and crew while they were filming in and around town were around your age or not much older, and you wondered more than once over the past couple of weeks how many of the others were saving up for similar reasons as your own. “Why couldn’t they just wait until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Because there are some party activities you can only really have fun with after dark,” one of the girls answered with a wink that sent her and a couple of nearby caterers into a giggling fit.

“They’re planning on packing everything up and leaving tomorrow,” you added, once they had calmed down a bit. “I think they’d rather use the daylight to get out of here.”

Your fingertips brushed against the silver chain connected to your belt loop, the other end reaching into your pocket, and you felt a familiar calm settle over you as you added, “We’ll be fine as long as we stay out of the woods tonight. You all know that.”

“You working tomorrow?” asked the first caterer, who seemed visibly surprised when you shook your head ‘no.’ “What, really? You’ve been pulling more shifts than any of us, and still working at the bakery every morning before school, how are you not working the last day?”

You shrug at the sarcasm in his voice, not wanting to admit that you had asked only to be told you needed to choose between working tomorrow or tonight. Apparently, the crew director didn’t believe anyone would show up the next morning after a night shift, and working the party offered the chance for more hours and more pay.

And you needed all the help you could get.

“Do you ever stop and actually have time for, I don’t know, fun Y/N?” asked one of the girls.

“Have you ever even been to a party before?” asked another. “You could always leave your tray with one of us and maybe get to know some of the stars—”

“I’m good,” you interrupted, trying your best to ignore the new round of giggling as you grabbed a ready tray and turned back to face the party.

Most of the people here were part of the crew, faces you had come to know over the past month or so with the occasional name to go with them, but as you threaded your way through the laughing, chatting partyers, you did pass more than one actor or actress who until recently had only existed on a big screen or in a washed out picture in the newspaper. They seemed occupied enough with the drinks and recounting stories to keep the inevitable crowd around them entertained, but the star of the show, of this whole production, was nowhere to be seen among all of the festivities.

That is, until you turned at a call for a new glass and ran straight into him.

Spinach and mushroom puffs tumbled to the grass below and it was all you could do to keep the whole tray from spilling, his hands reaching to help you regain balance.

“Sorry, sorry!”

You were surprised to hear him saying it too, and once sure you were okay his face broke into an open, easy smile.

“Sorry, I can be a bit clumsy. Works out well on the screen, not so much in real life.”

“It was my fault, Mr. Jackson, I wasn’t—”

Your apology, more out of reflex from too much time spent dealing with angry customers in your other job than anything else, was quickly cut short.

“Please, you can call me Jameson, or—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Jackson?”

Jameson Jackson paused, his smile slipping as he glanced at the interrupter. While most if not everyone here that wasn’t working were dressed in comfortable clothes or, like Jameson in his white shirtsleeves and bright blue vest and bowler hat, whatever they had been wearing in the last scenes to be filmed, this guy was dressed up in a suit and tie, as though expecting a more formal party. He also wasn’t anyone you had seen around before, either on set or in town, although Jameson seemed to recognize him.

“I don’t remember inviting you to the party,” Jameson said, his smile more forced now.

“I just need a minute to ask some questions,” the stranger said, his own smile too wide and yet failing to reach his eyes. “Alone, if we can, unless you want to talk here. Although, knowing how rumors spread…”

Jameson narrowed his eyes, not even pretending at a smile anymore. “Especially when they get help from muckrakers.”

The stranger put a hand to his chest with a mocking gasp. “You wound me, Mr. Jackson. My paper only reports the truth, and I just wanted to give you a chance to present your side of things before certain uncomfortable truths hit the page.”

Uncomfortable truths? You look from Jameson to the reporter, wondering if you should say something or back out of this conversation, but before you could make a move either way, Jameson rolled his eyes and spoke.

“Oh, and I’m sure you won’t twist everything around. Again. I’ll give you five minutes, which is five more than you deserve by this point.”

The reporter smiled and followed Jameson’s gesture with a snide, “So kind of you, Mr. Jackson.”

You were curious, of course, but you couldn’t exactly follow them to the edge of the party, away from the music and crowd and just within the circle of lights. Instead, you could only get back to doing your job and serving the other partygoers while trying to avoid running into anyone else who might be less friendly than Jameson.

You were just trying to fake a smile while waiting for the crew director and one of the actresses to choose from the identical puffs on the tray when you heard the gasps and shock ripple out from the other side of the field. The three of you turned in time to see the reporter stumble back, one hand raised to his bloody nose, while Jameson stalked away from the party with shoulders hunched, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“I wonder what that was about,” the actress beside you said as she took a spinach puff from the tray before taking a delicate bite. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jameson that mad, not even when we had to scrap and reshoot a week’s worth of scenes.”

“Is that the guy from The Morrow Gazette? What is he doing here?” asked the crew director, narrowing her eyes as she watched the reporter stumble away in the direction of town. “I told security to keep him away from the set and crew, what are they even doing?”

Drinking a few beers somewhere between here and town, not that you thought you should mention that. Instead, you asked, “Where is Jameson going?”

“Ah, he’ll be fine, he just needs to cool off,” the crew director said, then muttered something under her breath about wishing he’d punched that reporter harder.

The actress glanced at you and lowered her voice, even though you could still clearly hear her ask, “Is it true what they’ve been saying? About the studio being broke?”

“You’re still getting paid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” the crew director answered. “We’ve hit a few snags here and there, but—”

“It didn’t look like he was going toward town,” you interrupted. “Jameson, he has a ward on him, right?”

The worry steadily growing inside you immediately skyrocketed when you saw the blank expressions on their faces, even before the actress asked, “A what?”

She was too stunned for a moment to do anything but take the tray you shoved toward her, her surprised exclamation following behind the crew director’s shout as you turned and took off running.

You bit your lip but kept on running in the direction you last saw Jameson. After all, it was your last night on the job. What were they going to do, fire you?

((Thank you for reading! If you want to be tagged in this, or don’t want to be tagged, just let me know.

Link to Part 2.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate))

[doom-dreaming]

The Daring Truth

The gang plays a good-natured game of Truth or Dare and gets a little more than they bargained for.

Read it on Ao3 here! Tag List (apologies to anyone who may have found this back when I wrote it, I’m just reposting to fill the gaps between Calypso hell): @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @marigold-magpie @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @omgzakoko

******

“No, no, you can’t back out. You already picked one.” Rhys nudged Sasha’s hand away from the slips of paper in the center of the table. “You’re stuck with what you got.”

“I’m regretting it already…”

Across the table, Vaughn shrugged. “How bad can it be? Can’t be worse than that night we all played strip poker...right?”

“Says the guy who actually had abs to show off,” Rhys muttered.

Vaughn grinned. “If I remember correctly, everyone was too interested in your ink to pay attention to me.”

“Yeah, that was the problem.”

“Strip poker was nothing.” Sasha fiddled with one of her earrings. “You all might think I’m the mean one, but you don’t know half the things Fiona dared me to do when we were kids.”

“Heh, ask her about the skag sometime,” Fiona chuckled, leaning back with a smirk.

Sasha glared at her. “You promised you’d never bring that up again.”

“Technically…” The elder sister took a long swig of her beer. “...I didn’t.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m actually kinda curious right now.” August put his drink down and glanced at Sasha. “Feel like sharin’, babe?”

“No, forget I ever said anything.”

He snorted. “Like hell. Y’know...I can think of a lot of dares involving skags and...uh, they’re all disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not wrong.”

Fiona kicked her feet up on the table. “Ask her how many times she washed her clothes after she did it. Or how long she was in the shower.” She leaned over to Rhys without waiting for anyone else’s input and answered the question herself...in a very exaggerated whisper. “Hours. She was in the shower for hours…”

Sasha slumped forward with a groan. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do your stupid dare. But,” she lifted her head and leveled a hard stare at both Rhys and her sister. “You two have to do something first.”

Rhys glanced at Fiona out of the corner of his eye. Up until now, she’d been relatively nonplussed by everything that had happened—the fourth beer had really been the point of no return—but Sasha’s comment had effectively stopped her with her drink halfway to her lips.

“And you’re gonna do it together.”

Rhys watched as Fiona slowly lowered the bottle to the table. The past few months had been...precarious, to say the least. He would have assumed that once he and Fiona started dating, things would be easier—no more veiled innuendos or less-than-subtle attempts to leave them alone together—but if anything, it was even more difficult. It turned out being in a relationship added more fuel to the fire than not being in one, so the teasing got worse. And...significantly more sexual.

The disturbing combination of determination and mischief on Sasha’s face only reinforced Rhys’ longing for normal friends. Friends who would have congratulated him on “getting the girl” and left it at that. Then again, the fact that the friend in mention was the sister of his lover made things decidedly more complicated. “What’d you have in mind?” he asked warily.

“Each of you has to say two things about the other that no one else here would know.” She sat back and crossed her arms, expression morphing into smug satisfaction. “Good luck.”

“Um…” He looked at Fiona. Sasha was her sister, they’d known each other since birth; how could he come up with something that not even she would know? Unless...no. No, he couldn’t do that. Especially not for the sake of this stupid game.

Fiona sighed, picking at the label on her beer bottle. “I’ll go first, since you obviously need time to think of something.”

“Yeah, sure, fine. Just...don’t…uh...” She turned to look at him, a small smile on her lips, scarred eyebrow cocked just so slightly. To anyone else, she may have looked genuinely—maybe even innocently—confused. But Rhys knew better.

“Don’t what?”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. She knew exactly what, and the implication should have been more than apparent. Unfortunately for him, she ignored it. And if that wasn’t enough, she gave him a cheeky grin right before finishing off whatever was left in the bottle of alcohol. His stomach sank.

“He is…extremely flexible. And yeah,” she tossed the empty bottle to the side. “I mean it in the way you all think I do.”

Rhys could feel his face getting red the minute the word ‘flexible’ left her lips. He should have known she’d do the exact thing that he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t do.

“And,” she continued, “when he was a kid, he didn’t actually want to wear tacky suits and rule the world. He wanted to be a singer.” She smirked at Sasha across the table. “There. Done.”

“Wait, what?” Vaughn frowned. “You never told me that.”

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah...it didn’t last very long. And it was before I met you. I was, like, five, and I liked to sing…” He shrugged helplessly. “I mean, I still do, but… I don’t know, it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than the other thing we just found out?”

“Well, um…she wasn’t supposed to—”

Fiona snickered and nudged his shoulder. “Your turn.”

Rhys took a deep breath. If she wanted to play like this, sure, he’d play. “She always fights to be on top, but secretly loves it when I hold her down to keep her from getting there. And yeah,” he turned to Fiona. “I mean it in the way you all think I do.” The silence that settled around the table was one of the most sudden and absolute silences Rhys had ever witnessed. Everyone was just...staring. Not at him, either. Fiona looked like she wanted to be swallowed by her hat, and for once, the color in her cheeks was very noticeable. “She also likes the way I write my signature.” He sat back and crossed his legs with a grin.

A long minute passed before anyone moved. Sasha finally tore her eyes away from her sister, combing her fingers through her bangs. August picked up his beer, stared into it, and put it back down. Vaughn’s forehead connected with the table.

“Alright,” Sasha finally conceded. “I walked into that...and you win. So here goes the dare.” She shrugged off her jacket, but stopped halfway through pulling her shirt off over her head and glared at Rhys. “Don’t even think about recording this.”

[sleepyverstappens]

Let’s Start Living Dangerously

Title: Let’s Start Living Dangerously

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen/Lewis Hamilton

Rating: Explicit

Word Count; ~5.2k

Tags: Threesome - M/M/M, Sexting gone wrong, Dom/sub Undertones, Singapore Grand Prix 2018, Spitroasting

Summary: This couldn’t be meant for him, right? Why the fuck would Max Verstappen be sending him nudes?

Or, the Max/Daniel/Lewis threesome no one asked for.

A/N:   Uhh, so I really have no excuse for this. Max and Lewis were just very giggly during the post race press conference in Singapore and my hand slipped and this happened. Enjoy 5.2k of threesome smut :P

Read on AO3

He's just scrolling through his instagram feed, finally having some time to relax after a busy day of press duties before the race weekend really kicks off, when he sees a notification pop up. Max Verstappen has sent you a message the whatsapp notification says. He frowns at his phone, he barely spoke to Max in real life, for a long time he was just this guy, let alone talk to him over the phone. Which just makes him all the more curious, so he clicks on the notification quickly. What he sees then is not what he expected at all. Max is lying almost naked on a bed, with one hand fisting his hard cock through his boxers,  the tip of it just poking out, bright red against the white of his Calvin Kleins.

This couldn’t be meant for him, right? Why the fuck would Max Verstappen be sending him nudes? And before he can think harder on the why, the picture is gone, message deleted now replacing it. The picture is already saved to his phone though.

Too late. Is all he sends back.

---

“Shit, shit, shit,” he curses once he realises the mistake he's just made. The name Hamilton blinking up at him at the top of the screen instead on Daniel . He unwraps his hand from around his cock and quickly taps on the picture he just send to Lewis fucking Hamilton, hitting the delete button just as quick.

How could he have been so stupid, he never even really talked to Lewis on whatsapp.  He’d just accidentally hit his chat window earlier when he went to ask Brendon something about the drivers parade on Sunday, their surnames making them appear next to each other in his phone. Still the chat window had been the first one on his list instead of Daniel's like usual.

But surely Lewis hadn’t seen it yet, right? He’d been so quick. But then he sees the words Hamilton is typing pop up at the top of the chat, his phone buzzing with a message not long after.

Too late.

---

He drives the qualifying lap of his life, getting pole on a track were the Mercedes' were already written off. He’s answering Martin’s questions, adrenaline running wild through his veins when he sees the young man in the corner of his eye. Max is a sweaty mess like himself, but there's a happy grin on his face, his lap amazing as well. Their eyes meet and for a split second he sees worry in those blue eyes, but then Max is biting at his lip a teasing twinkle in his eyes. Oh this was gonna get interesting.

Last night he hadn’t been able to stop himself from looking at the picture again. He tried telling himself he was just being careful making sure he didn’t have nudes, nudes from another guy, saved to his camera roll. His thumb had never hit the delete button though, eyes falling instead to the taut frame of the Dutchman. His abs on full display as a happy trail directed his eyes to where Max has a strong hand wrapped around himself, white boxers not leaving too much to the imagination.

With the look Max just sent him the image is brought back to the forefront of his mind, his eyes lingering on Max’s back as both of them are dragged away to their own garages. The lights of the garage are bright like all around the track and people are patting his back, jostling him around as they celebrate pole position, but his mind is elsewhere. It’s on pale skin and strong hands, on tight underwear and the outline of a long hard cock.

---

He climbs out of the car, exhausted and overwhelmed, but also feeling amazing. He doesn’t know how he drove a lap like that with a car that’s been giving him so many difficulties this weekend but he did, somehow. He’s waiting for the microphone to turn to him when he feels Lewis’ eyes on him. There’s something in the gaze that makes him worry at first, remembering the compromising position he’s sure Lewis had seen him in on Thursday. But he doesn’t find disgust or anything like that, no there’s curiosity in those eyes, intrigue, a hint of lust, so instead of biting his lip in worry he bites down on it with a twinkle in his eye, this could be fun.

He’s swept away from the grid quickly, pushed in the direction of the press circle. He’d rather have another one of those ice baths, but the horde of microphones is already waiting for him and for once he has a great qualifying to talk about so he goes where he’s directed.

---

He wins, it’s a boring race for the most part, but he wins and that’s what counts. And it wouldn’t be Singapore if it wasn’t fucking exhausting. The adrenaline in his blood is fighting hard though, making his leg bounce and a megawatt grin stick to his face. He sees Max get out of the car, the other man putting in a good fight, actually making his adrenaline spike for a bit when he got close through the traffic.

It’s when he takes his helmet off that he can’t stop his eyes from lingering. A two hour race in the Singapore heat should have made him look anything but like he does right now. Sure he’s a sweaty mess like all of them are, but he’s glowing, radiating off happiness and just looking all together amazing.

There’s questions and then anthems are being played and before he knows it he’s hit by the spray of Max’s champagne bottle as soon the music starts playing. Sebastian is off to the side drinking his instead, not really joining in on the celebrations, but him and Max are just acting like big kids. The champagne stings in his eyes, but he can’t wipe the grin from his face. As he wipes the sticky liquid away from his face and they line up for the pictures he’s very much aware of Max’s body beside him. Of the way the muscles of his back feel through his race suit, the way he smells of sweat and champagne and how the smile on his face makes him look both younger and older at once.  

The press conference is something else, he won the race yet most of the questions are for Sebastian. Bored, he feels the energy draining from his body slowly and he tries to keep himself hyped. He’s bouncing in his chair by the end of it, him and Max chatting through a lot of it. About the race mostly. Until he nearly chokes on his drink at Max’s next words. Max is actually covering up his mic, instead of just relying on the tech people to cut the audio, when he says it. “ Let’s celebrate, come to my room tonight.”

He coughs against the stinging of his drink going down the wrong way and looks over at Max with wide eyes, but the younger man is just looking out at the room again, face blank. He can’t stop thinking about those words for the rest of the conference. Come to my room tonight. What did he mean? Images of what could possible be happening in Max’s room later run through his mind, none of them safe for work and he was still very much at work right now.    

An interviewer actually asks him something then and he has to concentrate very hard on the words spoken to him, because as he risks another look at Max, Max raises his eyebrows just a little, eyes filled with heat.

As they leave the room, Max runs up to him, pats his back and then gives him one of those bro hugs. It all happens so fast, he barely has time to blink as he breathes in Max’s scent and feels a piece of paper slip into his hand. He’s gone just as quickly, already chatting to his press handler as all of them head towards the press circle. He looks down at his hand then and slowly unfolds the note, I’m in room 305, is all it says. He clenches his eyes shut, fuck this was really happening wasn’t it?

---

He’s had a few beers with the crew after the race to celebrate his win. The buzz of alcohol is humming through his veins as he makes his way up to Max’s room. He’s got the note clutched tightly in his hands as he waits for the elevator to bring him to the third floor, two floors down from his own room. 305, 305, 305 he reminds himself as he walks through the corridor checking the numbers until he finds it. He shoves the note in his pocket and knocks on the door, foot tapping away as he waits, not sure what to feel right now.  

The door finally opens, but it’s Ricciardo’s beaming smile that greets him instead of Max.

“Oh uhm, hi Daniel, I thought this was Max’s room?” Lewis says unsure. His hand twitches to try and get the slip of paper with the room number from his pocket just to double check, when Dan speaks up.

“Oh yeah it is, come in we’ve been waiting.”

“We?” He'd heard rumours about Max and Daniel for sure but he'd never really thought about it too much. After all there had been rumours about him and Nico as well and those weren’t true, so why would these be? He'd figured the selfie Max had accidentally sent him was for a girlfriend, but thinking about it now he should have probably realised the rumours were true. That the jokes they made about it were the perfect cover.

“Shit Max, did you not tell him?” Dan asks as they walk in the room, the small hallway stopping him from seeing Max just yet. Now that he takes Daniel in a bit better he can see the outline of Daniel's cock through his shorts and so he shouldn’t be surprised by Max’s state of undress, as he rounds the corner, yet he can’t stop his eyes from widening as he takes in the man lying on the bed.

“Shit man,” he breathes out. He hadn't really known what he'd be getting himself into tonight. Wondered whether Max had just been fucking with him. It didn't look like Max was just fucking with him right now, his hand tightly wrapped around himself, without the layer of his boxers covering him this time. And he doesn’t know where to look, eyes finding a random spot on the wall just to be safe.

“Max, you didn’t tell him?” Dan asks again.

“I figured he’d know,” Max shrugs.

Lewis shakes his head at that, the other man talking so casual when he’s lying there stark naked. “All you said was come to my room tonight, how should I have known?”

“We’re kind of a package deal these days,” Dan laughs. He just looks over at Daniel blankly.

“Oh come on Lewis!” Had he really been so oblivious? He’d been a little preoccupied with trying to win another championship he tells himself, before telling them the same.

“Good enough excuse I guess,” Max shrugs, “You’re still up for it though?”

And he bites his lip, gives it all of 2 seconds to think over, before he shrugs. “Guess I just got a two for one deal.”

And Daniel laughs a little to hard at that, his nerves showing a little. Max makes doesn’t show any nerves though when he shuffles over to the edge of the bed on his knees. He beckons Lewis over towards him, smirk on his face.  

“Aren’t those the best kind of deals?” Max laughs as he twists his fingers into Lewis’ shirt, pulls him even closer and leans in slowly. His eyes fall to Max’s lips, plump with a badly grown beard surrounding them. He runs his tongue over his own lips, wets them quickly as Max leans closer and closer until finally their lips meet.

Max kisses fierce, teeth nipping at Lewis’ lips until he opens up for him and he can’t stop the groan from falling from his lips as Max’s tongue touches his own. Soft but persistent as he fucks his way into Lewis’ mouth.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Daniel almost whispers in awe, from behind them.

Max pulls back a little, glances over at Dan with a cheeky grin on his face. He radiates confidence as his fingers find the hem of Lewis’ black t-shirt. He’s the only one naked, but it looks like he wants to change that as he starts pulling up his shirt. It’s pulled over his head and thrown off into a corner of the room quickly, Max’s fingers searing hot against his skin.

He feels another pair of hands on his body then, running up his sides until they rest on his shoulders. They squeeze down as he feels Daniel’s body press up against his back, the outline of his hard cock pressing into his arse. “What do you wanna do?”

And he honestly has no idea, there’d been so many fantasies running through his mind but they’d just been with Max, he’s got another man to include in them now. So he ends up just shrugging, a bit of a confused sound leaving his lips as he does so.

“Come on, you’ve been thinking about it haven’t you? Do you want him to suck you off? Come all over that pretty face of his? Do you wanna fuck him? Or maybe you want him to fuck you?” Daniel purrs into his ear.

He shakes his head, flashes of all those scenarios playing through his head now. He can already see those lips wrapped around him, swollen raw as he fucks into his mouth. Can see Max underneath him as he fucks into him hard, can see him bouncing on his cock as he rides him. He gives the last scenario a few seconds to consider, Max’s body looming over him as he fucks him, but then quickly shakes the idea from his mind. He doesn’t think that’s something for tonight.

“What about you?” Lewis asks once he realises Daniel hadn’t included himself in any of those scenarios.

“You’re the winner, so you’re the boss tonight. I guess you could fuck me as well,” Daniel says with a shrug, his strong body still pressed against his back, radiating heat into his skin. And he considers it, thinks about how good Daniel would look underneath him as well. The thing is though he’d come here thinking it would just be Max, so the idea of fucking Max is what’s sticking to his brain.

“No,” he says with another shake of his head, then continues with determination. “I want to fuck him. I want to fuck him, but first I want him to suck me off.”

“Good choice,” Daniel breathes into his ear. And when he looks back at Max, his pupils are blown wide, lip caught between his teeth. He thumbs it loose before leaning down ever so slightly, Max’s position on the bed actually giving Lewis a tiny bit of a height advantage.

They kiss slowly, tongues dragging against each other languidly. There’s less resistance from Max this time, the other man letting him take the lead now. He dragging his tongue over the roof of Max’s mouth slowly when he feels Daniel’s hands shift and find his belt buckle. He works it free from his belt loops quickly, fingers popping open the buttons of his jeans with practiced ease then. As soon as they’re undone Dan’s hand finds its way into his boxers just as easily.

Yeah, he’s definitely done this before. Can see him working open Max’s jeans over and over again until it’s become routine. His hand sneaking it’s way past another pair of Calvin Kleins to find that cock already hard for him.

His own cock twitches as Dan’s fingers wrap around him, stroking him until he’s hard as a rock, hips bucking up for more. Dan’s other hand is pushing his jeans and pants down then, the belt clanking loudly against the floor as they fall down.

“Max, be a good boy and suck Lewis off yeah.”

He blinks at the look in Max’s eyes then, eyes clouded with lust as he nods slowly at Daniel’s command. He hadn’t expected this dynamic between them, the younger man always so feisty in public. An air of confidence following him like it had earlier, but it’s like a switch has been turned as he let’s the command wash over him.

He’s down on his hands and knees then, strong hand wrapping around the base of his cock as his tongue flicks out over the head. Lewis hisses in a breath then, body trying to move even closer. The heat of Max’s mouth is a shock as it surrounds him, drawing a groan from between clenched teeth.

He looks down at where Max’s lips are wrapped around him and it looks so much better than it did in his head. Max’s hair falls down over his forehead in soft tufts, his eyes closed as he sucks down around him.

He feels Max swallow around him before he starts sinking down over him. Further and further until he hits the back of his throat. He swallows again, gagging a little and a ridiculous sound leaves Lewis’ throat, the tight heat almost making him come already.  

Max draws back then, licking at the head as he goes. “Fuck you’re big,” he groans, voice raw.

And he really can’t wait any longer. He pulls Max back up, pressing a hard kiss against his lips and then starts pushing him backwards until his back hits the bed. He steps away from the heat of Daniel’s body, spares him a quick glance but then pushes himself onto the bed at Daniel’s nod.

He runs his hands down Max’s body, feels the muscles ripple underneath his touch. He wraps his fingers around his still very hard cock, gives it a few strokes and then starts moving his hand even further down.

“I’m good,” Max says stopping his hand from where it was going. He sends him a questioning look. “You took a long time to get here.”      

And as his hand continues on its path anyway he finds Max’s hole slick already, two fingers slipping in easily.

Max gasps as his fingers breach him, moaning as he fucks them in a few times. But then he sits up, his hands pushing at Lewis’ shoulders as that fire from before returns. He keeps pushing until Lewis is on his back instead. Max reaches for the strip on condoms on the bedside table, tears one off and bites into the foil to open it up.

It’s rolled down over his cock in a quick move and then Max is leaning over him, muscular thighs on either side of him. He sinks down over him slowly, tight heat engulfing him inch by inch. He groans out at the feeling and barely has time to take it in before Max starts moving, pace picking up speed quickly.

His breathing quickens as Max keeps bouncing on his cock, his nails digging into Lewis’ chest. He feels him tense all of a sudden, a long drawn out moan falling from his lips as pleasure shoots through his body. Max keeps going like that then, the angle making Lewis hit his prostate each time.

And for the second time in a frankly too short a time he feels like he’s gonna come again. He bites down on his lip hard, biting pain enough to distract him from coming for now. His hands fall onto Max’s hips to still his movement, the man blinking down at him in confusion.

Lewis is pushing himself up then, his arms wrapping around Max’s waist as he rearranges them until Max’s back is pressed into the foot of the bed. And he’s about to push back in when all of a sudden Daniel’s voice breaks through.

“Not like that.”

He’d almost forgotten the other man was still there, too focussed on the young man bouncing on his cock. He glances up at where Daniel is sat on the armchair in the corner of the room, perfect view of the bed. He can’t really read the expression there, something possessive maybe? He sees Daniel’s gaze flick down to where Max is looking at him, upside down, but they somehow still manage to have a full conversation just with their eyes. He sees Max nod before he starts moving underneath him, twisting around until he’s on his front. Oh, not like that.

Once Max has twisted himself around and pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees Lewis looks back at Daniel, sees him nod slowly, hand working over himself just as slow. He pushes forward then, pulls Max’s hips just so and then presses back in, delighting in the groan that falls from Max’s lips at the movement.

They’re faced directly towards Daniel now, Max holding onto the edge of the bed to stop himself from getting pushed off by each of his thrusts. Daniel’s gaze is heated as it meets Lewis, hand working over himself at the same speed he pushes into Max. It flicks down then, focuses in on his boyfriend. On the way his fingers are turning white from clenching around the sheets, the way his mouth falls open wide each time Lewis hits his prostate. On the way he looks up at Daniel almost wanton, lust swirling in those blue eyes.

He keeps up a steady pace, feels himself getting closer slowly when he sees Daniel move from the chair. His shorts fall down easily as he stands up and steps out of them, moving towards the bed. Lewis feels himself slow down, waiting on Daniel’s next move.

“Keep going,” Daniel says with a nod, before looking down at Max. He runs a gentle hand over Max’s face, softly works his bottom lip loose from where he’s biting on it. Another brush of his thumb over his lips before he lets it slip in between them. And Lewis is transfixed by them, the way they are together, speaking a thousand words with their eyes alone. He thrusts forward again and groans at the way Max’s moan sounds around Daniel’s thumb pressed into his mouth.

And he knows what will happen next, before Daniel even makes a move to pull his thumb back from where Max is sucking on it. He does exactly that then, Max whining as the digit slips from his mouth. He doesn’t have to wait long though, because Daniel is already gripping at his cock, pushing it towards Max’s face instead.

The man underneath him doesn’t need to be told what to do, mouth waiting eagerly as Daniel pushes into it. And the way Max’s moans sound around Daniel’s cock is even better than before, sound garbled and guttural.

Daniel starts thrusting forward then, in time with Lewis. Groans fill the room as he meets Dan’s eyes once more, pupils blown wide, but there’s a smirk playing on his lips. Because he knows, he knows that even though he isn’t the one actually fucking Max he’s got the command of the room. Knows that Max will do as he says, will listen to Daniel and not Lewis. And he knows Lewis will only follow his lead, would listen to him if he told him to stop right now. He doesn’t though, just flicks his eyes back down to Max, wipes away some sweaty hair from his forehead and then buries his fingers into the locks instead.    

It’s Daniel that sets the pace then, pushing in in quick bursts that Lewis mimics. And he feels himself really getting close now, the sounds of the two of them and the smell of sex in the air only making the pleasure from the tight heat around his cock more intense.

“Close,” he groans out in warning. He follows Dan’s eyes as they meet his again, silently asks for permission and then Daniel simply nods.  

It only takes a few more thrusts, hips picking up speed as he works himself towards his release. Heat swirling in his stomach as his movements turn sloppy, body needing the release. And with a loud shit he buries himself deep in Max one last time, filling the condom. He fucks into him in a few more aborted thrusts before he pulls out slowly, ties the condom off and falls back onto the mattress, body still twitching but sated.

He blinks slowly, eyes focussing back in on the other two men in the room. Daniel’s head is thrown back in bliss as he continues fucking himself into Max’s mouth. He sees Dan’s fingers tightening in Max’s hair, thighs trembling as he gets close. He doesn’t give any sort of warning, but Max sucks him down more greedily, so in tune with Daniel’s needs. It’s only a few strokes later that Daniel comes with a shout, Max drinking down every last drop of him. Licking his lips for good measure as Dan pulls out.

Daniel sits down on the bed, takes a few steadying breaths and then his hands are back on Max, pulling him upright. Their lips meets easily, Daniel groaning as he tastes himself on Max’s tongue. He manoeuvres them around until Max is lying on his back, cock falling heavily against his stomach.

Dan wraps his hand around Max at the same time he says “Kiss him.” And Lewis has to take a second to take in what he’s saying, eyes transfixed once more on the the display in front of him. Max’s cock is red from holding out so long, balls drawn tight as Daniel moves his hand over him.

He slowly drags his eyes away from it, letting them fall instead on Max’s plump lips. Kiss him, Daniel had said. He gently places his hand on Max’s cheek, turns the other man’s gaze away from Daniel and leans down until their lips meet once more.

He tastes different from before, Dan’s cock and cum lingering on his tongue and Lewis laps it up greedily. Max kisses back fierce, biting at his lips until Daniel twists his hand just so and he’s gasping into his mouth instead.

The sound Dan’s hand makes as he strokes Max to his release is starting to sound obscene, pre-come slickening his movements. Max is biting back quick gasps of air, body taut, hands clenched into the sheets tight. And is in absolute awe of him as he realises what he’s doing, how he’s trying so hard not to come. Not until Daniel tells him to.  

He feels Dan’s gaze on him then, drawing his attention away from where Max is biting at his lip hard. Dan cocks his head then, a question playing in his eyes. A question he doesn’t really understand until the other man raises an eyebrow, daring him to tell Max what to do next.

“Come Max,” he dares, intrigued to see what Max will do.

The Dutchman’s eyes blink open slowly and his eyes are begging for release, but his head shakes no. He hisses another gasp of air into his mouth as Dan twists his hand around the head of his cock tight, eyes clenched shut once more as he waits. Waits and fights off his impending orgasms as best as he can.  

It takes three more torturous strokes before those two magic words fall from Daniel’s lips. “Come Max.”

And he does, almost violently. His body drawn taut, back lifted from the bed as a sob falls from his lips. It feels like he keeps coming and coming, chest heaving as pearly drops of come splatter onto it.

It takes a long while before Max blinks open his eyes again, gaze a little dazed as he takes in the two men next to him. Daniel’s moved over to lie down on his right side, Lewis still raised on his elbow as he looks down on him from the left.

“Damn,” Max breathes out, voice sex rough, before cuddling into Daniel’s chest.

Both him and Daniel chuckle, damn indeed. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a little out of place now that everyone has gotten their release. He looks over at the two of them, Daniel is running a soft hand through Max’s hair as he presses a quick kiss against the lips he was kissing just a few moments ago. Daniel’s laughing softly as he tries to untangle himself from the younger man, Max clinging onto him with a soft whine.

“Come on babe, I’ll be back in just a second.”

He finally manages to untangle himself, rolls his eyes as they meet Lewis’ and then walks over to the little bathroom. Max follows Daniel with his eyes until he’s disappeared and then sits up, reaches for his phone and starts scrolling through his messages as if he hadn’t just had a threesome.  

Daniel rolls his eyes as he walks back into the room, wet cloth in hand. “I swear it’s like that thing is superglued to his fingers.”

“Shut up,” Max says without removing his eyes away from the screen.

Dan shakes his head with a sigh and throws the cloth at Max’s face. Max spluttering as it hits him. He sends a glare at his boyfriend before he gives himself a cursory wipe down with the cloth. His cock has gone soft now, rosy instead of bright red as it lies against pale skin. His eyes are drawn away then by the sound of Daniel rummaging through the mini bar.

“Yes!” He hears the Australian cheer as he draws a small bottle of champagne from the fridge. He starts untangling the foil from around the top quickly, popping the cork with a grin. He sees Max shake his head beside him.

“What? I didn’t get to have any yet today like the two of you,” Daniel says with an exaggerated pout, before taking a big gulp of the golden liquid. He shuffles back over to the bed and lets himself fall in between Max and Lewis, handing the bottle over to him.

He takes a sip, the liquid tasting far from the expensive champagne they waste on the podiums but it’ll do.

“Well that was an interesting way to celebrate a win,” he laughs.

“Good though right?” Max asks with a wink.

“Yeah,” he says with a shake of his head, before handing the bottle over to Max. He doesn’t really know what will happen next, but he hasn’t been kicked out of the room yet so he guesses that’s a good sign.

He sees Daniel trying to get the champagne bottle from Max, the younger man holding it away from him with a grin. And Lewis swears all he did was blink and all of a sudden Max is straddling Daniel’s hips, bottle of champagne still held away from the Australian’s reach. Max sends him a dangerous look then, a smirk playing on his lips as he starts to tip the bottle over slowly. Daniel gasps as the liquid hit his chest and runs down his torso slowly.

“Want some more champagne Lewis?” Max asks, smirk still playing on his lips.

Oh this night was far from over.  

[efrondeur]

bubbly by albino_yeti

Words:  Pairing: Keith/Lance Tags: Summary: It's unbelievable just how lucky Keith is that he gets to date Lance.

Read on: AO3 or below!

For @wtinart who is my @voltronsecretvalentine  

I hope you like it!

“Y’know. If I told my younger self I’d be dating you, I think I’d be on the floor laughing before I even finished my sentence,” says Lance. His fingers twirl around the ends of Keith’s hair.

Keith lets a breath of laughter out from his nose. He squirms a bit in Lance’s lap, trying to get into a position that gives more support to his head. Lance’s fingers leave his hair for a moment, resuming once Keith settles.

“Yeah. Same here. Actually, I think my old self would just go find you and punch you.”

Lance laughs, shaking Keith’s head. “True.”

There’s a small thud above him. Keith opens one eye; Lance’s now resting his head against the wall behind them. He watches a deep breath fill Lance’s chest, stay for a moment, and escape.

“God, I was so dumb,” says Lance.

“Just you?” asks Keith.

“I mean, I was the one that always egged you on.”

“Yeah, but I rose to it.”

Lance let’s stifled laugh, maneuvering his head to face Keith. “You rise to everything,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Keith rolls his eyes good naturedly, trying and absolutely failing to hide a smile. Instead, he turns, facing their room.

They’re on their bed, Lance sitting on a pillow while Keith uses his lap as his own. From here, Keith has full view of the disaster that is their room. Lance’s clothes are everywhere. There are a couple main piles in the corner and next to their full body mirror. Three out of the five drawers of their dresser are half open, a shirt half pulled out of one.

A towel is laying in the middle of their floor; it’s the one Keith threw when he settled into the bed with Lance, finished with drying his hair after his shower. The Chair is stacked high with clean clothes. Pieces of their armor are scattered about, red and blue mixing just well enough to undoubtedly create an abundance of confusion later.

Generally, their room is a lot better than this, always kept in pristine condition; Lance likes keeping it nice and orderly, but his ADHD has been acting up more than usual, not letting him get past throwing a few dirty clothes into the hamper before making him scurry off to do something else. Had it been anything else, Keith would have poked fun at him, asking when he was gonna get his ass in gear and clean their house, but ADHD is a tricky thing and he knows how much it tends to bother Lance himself, so he keeps quiet.

“Hey,” says Lance, voice sounding a ways away.

Keith turns back to him. His shoulders are slumped slightly, but he’s not upset; he’s lost in thought, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as a curious look comes over his face.

“What if I hadn’t confessed to you that night?” says Lance.

“After that huge battle on Killiat? The one where you nearly got yourself killed trying to block a bullet for me?”

“Yeah. Like, do you think we’d even be together right now?”

Lance’s hands slowly still in Keith’s hair, too lost in his thoughts to keep twirling it around his fingers.

“I… I don’t really know.” Keith pauses, thinking.

Would they be together? It’s been almost two years since that battle happened. Since Lance ran up to him afterwards, wrapping Keith in a tight hug, trembling as sobs wracked his body, burying his head into Keith’s shoulder, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Keith had frozen then, unsure of what Lance meant. He’d seen Lance tell Hunk he loved him numerous times, but they both assured him it was platonic.

Then Lance had kissed his neck, wet and gross as tears spilled from his eyes. Kissed his jaw as he pulled away from the hug. Opened his eyes, silently asking Keith for permission before pressing a kiss to his lips, one so full of meaning, so full of love, so full of every emotion possible that it still makes Keith’s knees weak.

He had always thought that the media lied when they said that you could feel fireworks when you kissed someone you loved.

They didn’t. They really didn’t.

Keith’s heart had stuttered before it burst in his chest. A pleasant, light warmth had spread to every nook and cranny of his body, fireworks shooting off behind his eyelids with just a simple press of the lips.

Lance moved away quickly, entirely too quickly for Keith. It was exactly how their first kiss turned into a makeout session, turned into the others yelling for them to go get a room.

Had Lance not done that, not putting an action behind their apparently mutual feelings… Keith isn’t sure what would’ve happened. That’s two long years of possible touches, flirts, confessions.

“I don’t really know,” says Keith. “I definitely don’t think we would be able to go through two years of just liking each other. It would have reached a crescendo at some point, but I have no idea when or how.”

“Yeah,” says Lance, still kind of dazed. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah,” says Keith, voice soft.

“God, I would’ve picked so many more fights with you until that happened.” Lance chuckles.

Keith cocks his head, brows pinching together. “Why did you do that? Pick so many fights. What came out of that?”

Lance looks down to him, gaze soft and fond. He shrugs a shoulder, a light flush gracing his cheeks. “You were cute when you got mad.”

Keith scoffs.

“You were! You still are. Your face gets all scrunched up, your nose wrinkles, and you get this - this passion, this fire in your eyes. Even if it was something menial, you always cared so much, despite constantly acting like you didn’t give a shit. And then your cheeks get all red, and your body would be this just line of tension that I’d always want to massage out. And I just, ugh, you’re so cute.”

Okay, fuck. Lance is so goddamn adorable.

Keith turns away, facing the room again, trying to hide just how hot his face feels. Plus the smile he’s trying to hold back is poking through and he doesn’t want to give Lance the satisfaction.

“I’m not cute,” mumbles Keith. “I’m sexy. ”

“Sure thing, baby.”

Keith clicks his tongue raising a hand to lightly hit Lance in the stomach with the back of his hand. “Fuck off.”

“Hmm… nah.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Keith turns back to him, a smile forcing its way onto his face. “No, I don’t.”

Lance smiles as well, bringing a hand up to boop Keith on the nose. Keith scrunches his nose, eyes closing.

“See? Cute. ”

“Eat my ass.”

There’s no noise, and it’s way too fucking suspicious. Keith opens his eyes, seeing Lance smirking above him, teeth showing in all their glory. “Oh my god, Lance.”

Lance throws his head back, laughing, shoulders shaking with each sound, each inhale. Keith smiles at him.

He has such a cute boyfriend. How in the hell did he get so lucky?

Lance wipes at his eyes, still laughing. “C’mon man, you can’t open that door and expect me not to do anything about it.”

Keith rolls his eyes good naturedly, not saying a word.

Lance leans over him, smiling before he pats Keith’s thigh. Keith sits up a bit, just enough to lift himself off of Lance’s lap. Lance swings his legs over, feet joining Keith’s at the end of the bed, as he lays down next to Keith.

He rests his head on the pillow, arm bent under it, using at support.

Keith lays back down, turning onto his side to face Lance. Lance boops his nose again. Keith kisses the tip of Lance’s nose in retaliation.

Lance’s eyes slip closed as Keith pulls back, settling down into the bed. A contented smile spreads across his face.

God, he looks so beautiful. His brown hair has grown in the past couple years, bangs cascading down his face, stubble gracing his jaw. Freckles dot his face, centered on his nose and cheekbones, with a couple stragglers here and there. A scar strikes through his right eyebrow, a result of a well placed punch by a Galran soldier to a helmet-less Lance.

His body has filled out a lot since they started dating. His hips had grown slightly wider, accommodating his broad shoulders. More defined muscles poked through the sleeves of his shirt. The rest of his baggy shirt hides the abs Keith knows are underneath, as well as Lance’s proud few chest hairs and a thin trail leading down into his pants.

He runs his eyes down Lance’s figure, trying to reason why a man as beautiful, as kind, as caring and sympathetic and loving would ever decide to love Keith. Keith, a man who can’t always keep his head on straight, despite trying his hardest; a man who doesn’t always know what is too much; a man who acts on instinct rather than brains, and has hurt people in the process, Lance included.

He’s tried figuring it out before, asking Hunk and Shiro and Pidge as to why Lance ever liked him, why he now loves him. He even asked Lance, but none of their answers ever made sense to him. They all called him passionate and caring, protective and loyal, understanding and loving. He’s none of those, but the others seem to believe so.

So he thanks his lucky stars and whatever possible deity might be watching over him. He’ll hold Lance, care for him, love him, for as long as Lance lets him, and be happy that he got at least some time with him when Lance finds someone better, which won’t be hard to do.

He remembers the first time he got to fall asleep with Lance, cuddling in what was Lance’s bed at the time. He remembers how peaceful Lance looked, all tension and stress of their lives completely absent, replaced by a gracefully relaxed, soft expression. He remembers how he stared at Lance for almost two hours, committing the look to his memory. He remembers slowly falling asleep, fingers of one hand laced between Lance’s own and fingers of another laced in the soft brown hair. He remembers waking up that next morning to bright blue eyes trained on his face, a fond smile crinkling the corners of them. He remembers the quiet “good morning, beautiful” and the blush the followed.

Without opening his eyes, Lance asks, “What’re you thinking about?”

“You,” answers Keith honestly.

“That’s gay, Keith.”

Keith lets a laugh out through his nose. Lance’s eyes blink open, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Good thing I am gay.”

“Then what does that make me?” asks Lance, feigning hurt. “Chopped liver.”

Keith scoffs. “Please, chopped liver is a promotion for you.”

Lance flicks his forehead.

“Ow!”

“Promotion my glorious ass. ” Lance eyes him, presumably waiting for another fake insult.

Keith scoffs again. “Your ass is a whole lot better than glorious.”

Lance stares at him for a moment, face blank, before a blush creeps up his cheekbones. He turns his head, smushing his face into the pillow.

“What, you can dish compliments, but you can’t take ‘em?”

“No. You are not allowed to compliment me.”

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” says Keith, coy smile playing on his lips. “I lose myself in them every time I look at you. And if I ever I stumble on my words, it’s always around you and you alone.”

“Stop,” groans Lance.

“And your smile. I swear to god, my knees go weak when I see it. It lights up your face so beautifully and fits you so perfectly. I’ve never seen a smile that actively lights up my life, and yet, yours does.”

“Stop,” groans Lance again, stretching out the word. He buries his face even further into the pillow.

“And, oh my god, your voice is to die for. You can be so smooth and suave or so upbeat and bubbly. You can make the weirdest noises that make even Allura fall to the floor laughing. And when you sing, I can’t function. Your voice flows so well and you have such a control over it that even Beyoncé would be jealous.”

Lance shoots up, grabbing his pillow, and shoving it over Keith’s face.

“Fuck off, Keith!”

Keith laughs harder than he has ever laughed before, his whole body shaking as laughs rack his body. He heaves in a breath through the pillow, an easy thing to do with Lance holding it so loosely over him. He can already feel tears welling up in his eyes, cheeks hurting with how wide his smile is.

Grabbing the pillow by the ends, he pushes it up off of him and rips it out of Lance’s hands. He lightly hits Lance in the side with it before tossing it on the ground, wrapping an arm around Lance and pulling him back down next to him.

Lance tries to bring his hands up to cover his face, but Keith grabs his wrists, pulling them towards himself. He presses a kiss to the back of his hand, eyes glued to Lance’s flushed face. The blush worked it’s way down his cheekbones, stopping before his jaw, only to continue down part of his neck.

He kisses each and every knuckle, moving from one hand to the other. Lance turns a deeper red.

“This isn’t fair,” whispers Lance.

“Yeah, well consider this payback for being too beautiful.”

“Keith!” says Lance, voice growing louder.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“Oh my god.”

Keith releases Lance’s wrists. His hands immediately fly up, palms pressing against his temples as his fingers brush through his hair. He turns, lying on his back. Keith can’t see his eyes, but he can see his eyelashes. He watches them blink as Lance’s chest rises and falls.

“That wasn’t fair.”

Keith chuckles, eyes closing as he shakes his head slightly.

“And like I said, it’s payback for -” a hand clamps itself over Keith’s mouth. Keith’s eyes fly open, blue eyes meeting his own as Lance turns to face him.

“My heart can’t handle another compliment. It may actually burst and I would really like to live long enough to go on at least one more date with you.”

Keith opens his mouth, licking Lance’s palm.

“Keith, I grew up with six siblings, that doesn’t faze me.”

Keith blows harshly out of his nose, directly onto Lance’s hand.

Lance’s hand rips itself off of Keith’s face. “What the fuck, Keith.”

“It’s what you get.”

“It’s what you get,” mocks Lance, making a weird voice as he wipes his hand on the sheets, but he’s smiling.

After he finds his hand sufficiently clean, he turns back onto his side. He leans over to Keith, gently resting his forehead on Keith’s, eyes half-lidded, looking at Keith with pure, unadulterated affection. He’s still blushing, but it’s significantly less prominent.

“I still love you, though.”

Keith closes his eyes for just a moment, nuzzling his nose against Lance’s. “I love you, too.”

Lance smiles and tilts his head. Keith watches his eyes flutter closed, feeling his own do the same. A thumb and index finger find their way to Keith’s chin, gently tilting his head up. Lance presses their lips together, lingering for quite a few moments before pulling away a few inches.

Keith sighs happily, breath mingling with Lance’s. He doesn’t open his eyes but hears Lance shuffle closer to him. It’s not long before they're kissing again, open-mouthed and languid, taking all the time in the world.

Heart blooming in his chest, the fireworks set off again, dancing across his eyelids. He sighs into the kiss. Lance smiles, having to take a moment to compose himself enough to let it slip off his face before pressing their lips back together.

It’s a long time before they finally separate, so many kisses shared between them, Keith had completely lost count. Lance settles back down onto the bed next to him, a soft smile resting on his face.

Keith lets his eyes slip closed, happily replaying what just happened in his head. The smooth, soft lips moving with his own. The small groans escaping from their chests as their hearts struggled to contain so much emotion. The comforting heat that spread through him slow like molasses, warming him from head to toe. The feeling of Lance’s hand moving from his chin, down his neck, down his chest, down his torso, and resting on his hip. The soothing touch of Lance’s thumb, rubbing circles on his hip bone as each kiss became slower and slower.

“Hey Keith?” whispers Lance, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” asks Keith, voice just as soft.

“You know what day it is?”

“Uh… no.”

Lance chuckles, quiet and low. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Keith.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lance.”