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A Scruffy Story Keith curled into his bed. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He couldn't believe he'd... It was Lance, and anyone who saw him would say he'd've been justified, but ... He'd sucked Lance off. He'd attacked him; Lance hadn't been anywhere close to be aroused, and he'd... Keith closed his eyes, his body clenching at the memory-feel of Lance's cock, softness hardening in his mouth, filling him, before exploding... Keith groaned and covered his head. Someday, he'd figure out just why the sight of a chin covered in stubble destroyed his higher functions. This stupid compulsion had cost him the cushy spot as Hawkins' 'aide' (and boy, would Jeff be surprised when he found out what command under Hawkins meant...) but now... there really wasn't any further down he could go... Keith scrunched into a smaller knot. He didn't want to think any more... So he slept. ---------- At breakfast, Pidge frowned. There had to be something wrong. Keith always made it to breakfast, if only to make sure Hunk only had a portion of his daily allowable grease in the morning. And yet... No Keith. And a still-unshaven-Lance. Who looked worried, before covering it with a smirk. Stabbing at his sausage, Pidge brought it to his mouth and bit down fiercely. He was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or the other. ---------- Lance winced. When Pidge started abusing the food, people learned to duck. Best to try to defuse the situation -- and Keith wasn't around to run interference. Damnit. Leaning over, he cautiously nudged him. "What's going on?" Pidge glared up at him and hissed, "Why didn't you shave?" "Uhhmmm..." Helplessly, Lance felt himself blush at the memory. Pidge's eyes widened. "Oh for --" He shoved another sausage in his mouth and chewed angrily, so he could keep from screaming at the idiot. "If you aren't gonna kick up a stink, you'd better go and tell him that -- or we'll be stuck with Coran in Blue and the Princess in Black...." Lance winced. "He's not answering --" Pidge shoved the rest of the food in his mouth, mumbling incomprehensible words that likely insulted Lance's ancestors. Lance didn't particularly care, because even as he was grumbling, Pidge was taking out The Kit. Nothing was sacred when Pidge broke out The Kit. With it, he was a force to cow even Nanny at full bellow. Keith didn't stand a chance. ---------- Fuzzily, Keith pushed the blanket down. There was something -- A blinding flash of light, bleeding blue at the edges with a curl of smoke, and his door groaned open, yielding to superior forces. Shoving his blanket off, Keith spun around -- and froze. Pidge, hair sticking up, glasses slightly crooked, clothing smoking just a bit, glared up at him. The Kit, open, in his hands. Keith paled. ---------- Behind Pidge, Lance stared. Suddenly, he understood the fascination of stubble. Keith clearly hadn't cleaned up since the last time they'd met. His hair was crushed flat on one side, stiffly upright on the other. His eyes were focused, but with that stunned-deer look he always had when he first woke up. And... He was still in his crumpled suit, the faintest stain of dried cum at the crotch. Lance licked his lips. Dark stubble against pale skin, begging for a touch, a lick, a bite... He moved forward, brushing past Pidge, and forcibly brought Keith's attention to him. ---------- Shaking his head, Pidge forced the door shut again, and snapped The Kit shut. Figured. He went to all the trouble, and they got all the fun. Thoughtfully, he stroked the fastening for The Kit. I wonder what Hunk is doing...? |