Chapter Text
“I can pick anything I want?”
Lance nodded.
“Anything?”
“Yes, Keith. Anything,” said Lance, his expression fond.
“And you’ll wear it?” asked Keith, double-checking despite Lance’s assertions.
“And I’ll wear it,” Lance confirmed.
“Okay,” said Keith with a determined nod.
He upended the basket of lingerie onto their bed—lingerie he’d acquired in an accidental panic a week previously—and began searching through the pile for the pieces he wanted.
The embarrassing trip to ‘ bare fantasies’ was largely a blur for Keith, and he’d bought everything the shop assistant had handed him in order to leave quicker.
There had been one set, however, that had caught his attention despite his mortification with the whole situation. A set that had made him think of Lance, and how the straps might look against his skin...
“Dude, you’re a walking cliche, I should have known you’d choose this,” Lance cackled, not bothering to hide how amused he was by Keith’s selection.
“You said you’d wear whatever I picked,” said Keith mildly, thinking to himself that Lance wouldn’t be laughing once he was wearing this and Keith got his hands on him.
“I did.” Lance accepted the pieces from Keith. “Did you have to pick something with twenty million buckles though?”
“You don’t have to undo all of them to put it on, just these one on the sides,” said Keith, tapping the salient buckles. “I mean, I could help you.”
“Na, I got this. Why don’t you sit and enjoy the show?”
“Suit yourself,” Keith shrugged, pushing aside the excess lingerie on the bed to make room for himself to take a seat.
He leaned back on his elbows to get comfortable because Lance wasn’t kidding about the show—Keith liked to watch him undress, and Lance liked to be admired, a win-win.
Keith especially liked it when Lance took off his uniform. There was something about watching him slip out of that crisp outfit, something about watching those items hitting the floor as Lance shed his professional persona, revealing the special— sensual— side of himself that only Keith got to see—that made Keith hot for him. Hotter than his default simmer.
It was also endearing to Keith the way Lance would peek at him after removing each item, as if checking to make sure that Keith was still watching, gauging his reaction to calibrate his movements, his smile.
All too soon Lance was down to his boxers, and Keith’s mouth was as dry as the desert he used to live in, and then even those were gone, leaving Lance in nothing but his skin.
His lovely, golden, skin. Skin that lay over lean muscle, and stretched over long legs. Skin that was imprinted into Keith’s sensory memory, that he’d tasted every inch of...
“Lance, come here,” Keith ordered, sounding far more breathless and far less commanding than he’d intended.
Lance looked his best in nothing at all, and Keith was terrible at resisting him.
Lance arched an eyebrow at him. “I said I’d wear whatever you picked,” he said, amusement tugging around the corner of his mouth as he tried to figure out what straps went where.
“I’m only gonna take it off again,” Keith pouted.
“I bet you won’t,” Lance retorted.
Keith had nothing to say to that, because it wasn’t a bet he would take. Not now that he could see exactly how those pale blue leather straps looked against Lance’s golden skin...
“Well, what do you think?” Lance asked once every buckle was done up, twirling in a circle.
Keith swallowed. Straps crossed Lance’s shoulders, his torso, meeting in the middle of his chest. Straps encircled his hips, the backs of his thighs, leaving his ass bare. One strap cut up the middle of his pelvis, forcing his cock to one side. All Keith could think about was getting his hands on those pale blue leather straps and pulling .
“Turn around again?” Keith murmured.
Lance grinned and happily obliged, giving his hips a little shake. The things Keith wanted to do to that ass…
“You still haven’t said what you think,” said Lance teasingly.
“Come here and I’ll show you,” said Keith roughly, startling a pleased laugh out of Lance.
“I mean, I was gonna assume from the look on your face that you liked it, but sure. Go ahead and show me, babe.”
Lance drew closer, and Keith sat up when he kneeled on the bed to take his hand and pull him closer still. Close enough that he straddled Keith’s hips, long legs folding gracefully on either side, knees hugging Keith’s torso. Close enough that Keith could put his hands on Lance and feel the warmth of his soft skin, and how it contrasted with the coolness of the leather and the buckles—they hadn’t had enough time to absorb Lance’s warmth yet.
Keith hands clenched around the straps at Lance’s hips so he could pull him down and press them together. So he could show him exactly how hard this outfit had made him.
“Oh my,” breathed Lance, exaggeratedly breathy, but the heat in his eyes was genuine. “Is that your bayard, or are you happy to see me?”
“What do you think?” Keith retorted, rolling first his eyes, and then his hips. Even though he was still fully dressed, it felt good. Lance always felt good.
“Do I?” murmured Lance, his expression beautifully open as he began to rock his hips down in earnest. Keith had a habit of doing this—saying what he was thinking without meaning to when he was horny—so he wasn’t surprised he’d let that slip.
“Yeah, you do,” Keith murmured, running a hand up Lance’s body to grab one of the straps laying across his chest to drag him down into a greedy kiss. The kind where he really went for it, licking into Lance’s mouth like he wanted to imprint the taste of him onto his senses forever.
Lance let out a little hum that reverberated pleasantly through Keith’s chest. He threaded his hands into Keith’s hair, grasping at him and moving on him, and Keith couldn’t help but tug at those leather straps harder.
Lance broke the kiss with a gasp, but Keith was relentless, claiming the sensitive skin of his neck without pause, setting his teeth and tongue on the areas he knew Lance liked, the spots that would drive him wild. There was none of the slowness or lightness that Lance would employ, teasing everywhere but where Keith needed him until he was ready to burst. No—Keith cut straight to the point.
“Ah—” Lance gasped, a delicious little moan. “How do you want me?” he asked, not breathless enough for Keith liking—how he wanted Lance was wrecked, utterly unable to tease or joke—he was beautiful when Keith could get him to really let go.
The question was, how precisely was Keith going to achieve that effect? Sucking Lance’s cock would do it—Keith could feel how hard he was already and he’d love nothing more than to have that in his mouth, heavy on his tongue. Lance always writhed and squirmed, touching Keith’s hair over and over—mostly stroking, sometimes pulling, when he forgot himself—and Keith loved it.
On the other hand, Keith also had a mental image that wouldn’t leave him of taking Lance from behind, using those leather straps as leverage to give it to him just the way he knew Lance liked, but at the same time, whatever they did, he liked to be able to see Lance’s face. He liked to be able to kiss him...
Keith had all night to sate all these urges, so he supposed it didn’t really matter what order he indulged.
Keith flipped Lance over onto his back in a smooth motion, pinning him down for another consuming kiss. It would be so easy to lose himself like this, in between Lance’s thighs, those long legs wrapped tight around him. So easy to undo his pants and rut against him until they both came, but Keith had managed to learn a thing or two since he and Lance had started dating, and one of those things was that patience could yield pleasure .
When he broke the kiss, Keith went to his knees at the end of the bed, dragging Lance down so his calves dangled over his shoulders.
He wasted no time dragging kisses up the insides of Lance’s thighs. He could feel Lance’s muscles tensing under his skin under his lips, and then, right when Keith reached the apex of Lance’s legs, those nimble fingers found their way into his hair, petting his bangs aside.
“You asked how I want you,” Keith murmured, before giving Lance a languid lick.
“Hah,” Lance breathed, grip tightening in Keith’s hair, back arching. God, he looked sexy like this, laid out and strapped up in all that leather.
“What I want—” Keith pressed a wet kiss to the head of his cock. “—is for you to lie back and look pretty for me.”
“Oh great, I’m good at that,” said Lance with a cocky smirk, but his voice wobbled.
Keith’s answering smile was wolfish, and then Lance couldn’t say anything else for a while.