Dirty Laundry by Gibslythe

Day 10 Ch. 44

Sunday, December 25th

Christmas Day

3:15 P.M.

Keith felt content.

It was a simple, immovable feeling; a sort of delight that fills you from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. He lay on the couch with Lance's arms wrapped around his torso, his back cuddled against Lance's chest. It was warm, so sweet that teeth could rot, and all Keith could think was how happy he was.

The house was quiet - the first time in days. Most family members had chosen to take afternoon naps, Jaime and Rosa included. The only ones awake were the children and their cousins, all preoccupied as they played somewhere upstairs.

The living room was in disarray - present wrappings and leftover breakfast littered the floor from that morning. The family had attended Christmas day mass after the presents (against both Lance and Benji's protests) and had all arrived home exhausted, worn out, and ready for bed.

"I don't want to attend Mass ever again," Lance whined into Keith's hair, his eyes fluttered closed and arm dangled lazily over Keith's torso.

They were tired - the both of them - and each debated taking naps of their own. Keith's Sunday tie dangled from his fingers, trailing across the floor. It was one of Benji's old ties, a red and green striped one that he'd felt ridiculous wearing in public.

"Then don't," Keith countered, turning around in Lance's arms so that their noses bumped against each other. "Just rebel."

Lance reveled in Keith's smile. It was the flush of his cheeks, the wrinkle of his nose, the snicker under his breath - those things were what motivated him to do more than just cuddle on a couch. Lance wanted more than just a simple kiss, he wanted to place not one, not two, but thousands of kisses against Keith's lips.

"Maybe I will," Lance hummed, opening his eyes and rubbing his nose even farther in. "Or maybe I'll just kiss you."

Keith trailed a finger over Lance's bottom lip, their bodies pressed so entirely close that it made Keith ache. "Is that a threat?" Keith whispered - all mischievous eyes and a crooked smile.

Lance needed no more prodding; it was obvious what Keith wanted. Lance was kissing Keith in an instant, their lips pressed together warm and wet. It began cautious - a languid, agonizingly slow movement of the lips. Keith wanted more, needed more, and in a single moment he was shifting from their idle kissing to something heated, something ardent. Keith loved it; the feel of Lance's chest under his palms, the quiet groan Lance gave when Keith bit his lip. Their position shifted drastically, Keith suddenly crawling to straddle Lance's hips. Lance only rolled his pelvis up, making Keith gasp.

"You-" Keith sighed into Lance's mouth, his hand suddenly tugging at the buttons of Lance's shirt. "Are-" He continued to unbutton them, each one just another barrier. "Really-" He reached the last one, all before shrugging the dress shirt from Lance's shoulders. "-Hot."

Lance immediately pulled away, Keith's words hung in the air. Keith whined in protest, reaching out blindly for Lance's lips, only to find none.

Keith opened his eyes, already annoyed, only to see Lance's impish grin.

"What was that?" Lance questioned, all innocent and pure. "I didn't quite catch that."

All amount of sexual desire Keith might've held suddenly dispersed. He scowled, suddenly sitting up straight over Lance's torso.

"Are you kidding me?" Keith grumbled, his hands splayed across Lance's bare chest. "You seriously just-"

"Yup. Tell me again, I don't think I heard you."