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fly Keith was bouncing off the walls and babbling about synergy and Descartes. So Lance kissed him, grabbing him on his fourth time around the room and pulling him down onto the couch and into Lance's lap. Keith didn't taste of alcohol, which didn't really surprise Lance because Keith's cheeks tended to turn bright red after half a beer and so far Keith remained red-free. Still, Keith only began postulating about the existence of God and whether or not a totally imperfect being could exist when he was high or drunk. And Keith had stopped using the harder stuff many years ago--Lance had...memories of that time, both fond and not-so-fond--and Keith's lips didn't taste of pot or acid or 'shrooms or the harsh tang of some of the less obtainable recreations his commander like to dabble in. His eyes were bright but clear and his smile was large but loop-free. "Hi," Keith said. He pushed up against Lance's grip, eager to continue his aimless wandering about the room. "I know you are. What'd you take?" Lance tightened his hold, eyes narrow and suspicious. "Nothing!" Keith suddenly went limp and slid off of Lance's lap. He bounced up like a rubber ball and grabbed Lance's hand. "Come fly with me." "Oh no. I'm not letting you anywhere near a ship when you're in this kind of a state." Lance performed his famous 'bowling-ball-butt-of-doom' trick and managed to remain seated despite Keith's insistent tugging. "Seriously. What'd you take? LSD? That new stuff from Garcia? You told me you were clean." "Squeakily so, mon petit chou!" Keith laughed, suddenly, and plopped back down on Lance's lap. "Here. Taste." He leaned forward and kissed Lance so deeply that he triggered a little known reflex that made Lance's hands involuntarily come up to grip Keith's waist. Keith's cheeks were tinged with red when they stopped to breathe, and Lance was pretty sure his own face was giving the awful red flight suit a run for its money. He had to take a deep breath to remember that he'd made a vow before God, Allura and Keith's mother to keep Keith clean, and not to fuck him senseless. That particular vow was just between him and Keith's little admiral. It took imagining what Keith's mother would do to him when she found out her baby boy was doing recreational drugs to put Lance back on track. "Just because I can't taste it doesn't mean you haven't been taking anything. Let me see your arms." "Nuh uh. You just want to get me naked so you can have your devious ways with me. Well, I'm just not that kind of boy. It's going to take you a lot more than a mind-blowing kiss to get me in bed." Keith tipped back, and it was only because Keith had wrapped his legs around Lance, and that Lance was still holding onto him that kept Keith from becoming a victim of a home made lobotomy. Lance was suddenly very much aware of the fact that the only reason this wasn't some kind of kinky sex position was because there was clothing in the way. That and he was having a difficult time finding the thought of Keith's head banging into his legs while they engaged themselves in a pleasant diversion as adding any sort of sensual charm to the whole dirty deed. "Whee!" Keith swung his head back and forth and his hair tickled Lance's toes. "Stop that. I'm going to let you go, I swear it." Lance pulled up and Keith returned to his full and upright position. "Keith." Keith's attention had been caught by a shiny object and he was no longer paying any attention to what Lance was doing. Lance sighed and gave his commander a shake, wondering if physically assaulting a superior officer was a court martial offense if the assaulting was done for said officer's own good. And then he wondered why he was even so concerned, given that he was a walking, talking, man-loving, leg-humping court martial offense anyway. "Keith. Be serious for Pete's sake!" "But I don't know any Petes. Why should my seriousness be for the sake of some stranger I don't even know? Heck, I might not even like this Pete I'm being so serious for." "Fine. Then be serious for my sake. You like me, don't you?" "Yup." Keith kissed the tip of Lance's nose. "I even love you on most occasions." "Great. Now, please. What are you high on?" Keith grinned and in an instant his eyes went from plain old black to the velvet darkness of the midnight sky. He leaned in and Lance was almost ashamed to admit that his breath hitched and he was damn close to having an uncomfortable situation right on the spot. And if that happened, how in the Universe would he ever explain that Allura? 'Gee, I'm sorry. Keith looked at me.' No. He had to be firm. This was Keith after all, and as sexy and tempting as Keith was right now, it was also good to remember that come the morning Keith was going to be like Dr. Lora with the worst case of PMS ever recorded in the history of women. This was the inconsiderate asshole who broke his promise to stop doing drugs and anyway, sex with Keith when he was high wasn't nearly as enjoyable as sex with good, old sober Keith. Not that sex with Keith was ever bad, or anything. No. That thought really didn't help things. Lance swallowed and looked Keith straight in the eye. "Well? Are you going to answer me?" "You." Keith leaned in even further until there wasn't even enough space for air between them and yet he somehow managed to get his hands beneath Lance's shirt and over his heart. "I'm high on you. And baby, all I want to do now is fly." |