Dirty Laundry by Gibslythe

Day 3 Ch. 16

Sunday, December 18th

2:17 P.M.

If Keith had learned anything in the past few days, it was that he needed to think his words through before he said them.

Normally Keith considered himself an intelligent man, which he most definitely was. He'd been a successful student, received great grades in highschool, and many of his professors enjoyed his presence in class. Still, there were times when his words got the better of him. Often things would slip from his mouth, and the moment he'd say them there would be a mountain of regret weighing down on his shoulders

Keith didn't regret what he'd said in that beat up corolla, not in the slightest. What he'd told Lance had been true, down to every last word, every last syllable.

Alright, that's a lie. There was one thing he did sort of regret.

Why in the living hell had Keith mentioned the hip thing?

"So," Lance began, his signature crooked, cocky smile at his lips. "You think my hips are hot?"

Keith looked up from the floor where he rested next to Mateo, the two of them casually playing with Lance's old matchbox cars. He felt his ears turn red, remembering how he'd let that one slip in the car earlier.

Keith scoffed. "What? No I don't. What gave you that ridiculous idea?"

"Um, because you said it earlier?" Lance folded his sock covered feet beneath his legs. "I heard you."

"I never said that." Keith defended himself, moving his attention to one of the small toy cars. He made his red car crash into Mateo's green one, and the child giggled at the low engine noise Keith made at the base of this throat.

The two of them were in the living room, finally warmed up and no longer soaking. After Danny came to the rescue only an hour earlier, they each had taken a long shower, changed into dry clothes, and made up a batch of hot chocolate. Lance sat on the couch wrapped in blankets, a cup of the hot drink warming his palms.

Lance rolled his eyes, having watched his nephew and fake boyfriend play on the floor. "You totally said it, Keith. Don't deny my dance moves. Like you said, my hips don't lie."

"I said they were like Shakira, dumbo. Not that your hips 'didn't lie' or whatever."

"Aha!" Lance cried out, pointing an accusing finger at Keith at the floor. "So you do admit you said something!"

Keith groaned outwardly. Lance had caught him red handed, and there honestly wasn't anything he could do to fix it.

"Fine, maybe I did make a comment about your hips." Keith swallowed. "But it doesn't mean anything."

Keith could've sworn he saw a drop in Lance's face, a glint of sadness that erupted momentarily. And then it was gone, as if it were never there, and Lance was smiling again.

Keith inwardly cringed at his lying. Of course it meant something, Keith did find Lance attractive, but did he want Lance to know that? Hell no. His attraction was increasing, growing with every stupid thing Lance said, every joke he pulled, every crooked smirk he wore, every time they bonded.

Keith was starting to fall for Lance, and that was turning into a cold, hard reality for Keith. He could feel it, and his feelings weren't sparked by just the outside things. It was the vulnerable Lance that he saw, the things Lance revealed to Keith that weren't for outsider eyes. His scar, his father, his fears, his insecurities, that face Lance wore when he wanted to help, his dedication to his mother, the brotherly love he radiated. Keith was allowed to see a side of Lance that not many others knew existed.