i-would-expect-them-to-have-a-picture-of-the-bed

“Keith, my dear old boring friend,” Lance begins one day, intruding Keith’s personal space and flinging himself down on Keith’s bed like he owns the place.  “You know what’s been bothering me?  There is absolutely no one in this solar system to kiss.  How sad is that?”

Keith glances up from his book, frowning.  “Leave.”

“Oh, dear.  Is someone upset today?  Shocker.”  Lance stretches his arms up above his head, yawning.  “You probably haven’t even kissed someone.  How sad.”

It’s obvious bait, but Keith falls for it anyways.  “Of course I’ve kissed someone,” he protests automatically.

Lance snorts, rolling over on the bed.  He rests his chin on his palm, a perfect picture of laziness, and raises an eyebrow at Keith.  “Sure you have.”

Keith rolls his eyes.  “As if you have?”

Lance shrugs.  “I’ll have you know that at the garrison, I had my fair share of lady friends.”

“Poor girls.”

“Maybe, but that’s their choice.”  He angles one finger over at Keith.  “You, sir, are missing out.”

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