Okay so I went with ten here we go on this half-finished log flume ride.
“Please don’t make me socialize.” Keith’s voice was muffled by the pillow he had hidden his face in.
“Come on, Keith, we just kicked the Galra out of an entire solar system. If there was ever a time to celebrate, it’s now.” Lance tried to lean farther into the door, or somehow make it audible. Anything to make Keith look up and see how cool he was being.
“Coran’s just going to get drunk again. I still have nightmares.”
Lance burst into a fit of laughter and wondered how much nunvill it took to get a six-foot tall human teenager tipsy. When he didn’t stop laughing his ass off in a matter of seconds, Keith finally peered out from behind his pillow.
“Are you drunk?”
“What?” Lance tried to get his hysteria under control and failed abysmally. “Drunk? No, of course not. What do you take me for?”
“An idiot who thinks that just because he’s in space no one cares what he does.”
“Well of course no one ca-a-ares,” Lance sing-songed. “The rest of you have got better things to do.”
Well quiznak, thought Lance. There’s no way this ends well.
Keith dropped the pillow to his lap and stared at Lance with his eyebrows knit together. He started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the part of Lance’s brain that was still capable of 100% rational thought (it was a very small part) recognized his ‘worried’ tell.
“Better things to do?”
“Yeah, man. Like party! Come on!” Lance tried to roll off the door frame in some suave fashion and was utterly unsuccessful for two reasons.
Reason number one: The nunvill was evil and had robbed him of his balance.
Reason number two: Keith grabbed his sleeve and dragged him back to his bed to sit him down.
“That’s not what you meant, is it.”
“The heck man, of course it is.” Lance pulled his arm back and Keith let go reluctantly. He looked pained.
“Lance, I have literally nothing better to do.” Lance tried to pinch his leg sneakily. “I care whether or not you get drunk off your ass. I’m sitting here in my room because that party is loud as fuck, and you’re sitting here because you’re being an idiot.
“A silly, loveable idiot.”
What the cheese.
“Who I often want to hug and/or kiss if given the chance and your consent.”
Lance felt his cheeks heat up and he stole the pillow from Keith’s knees to try and hide it.
“Uh, I’m sorry. Was this a bad idea? Is this awkward? I can get you back to your room if you want.”
They sat in an undecided silence for what felt like a very long time.
Lance took advantage of this to make up his mind. His only half-functioning mind.
Option A was to pretend to pass out and get an excuse to go to bed, but that was right out. That would be terribly embarrassing.
Option B was to yell “I’m bi and I love you too!” at the top of his lungs, which didn’t seem like such a bad idea really.
Option C was to kiss the mullet right there and then see was happened.
Oh what the hell.
Lance snapped his head up from his pillow, reached for Keith’s face with his hand and kissed him. Very sloppily.
It turned out nunvill and romance didn’t really mix.