Mark Me Yours ; klance [Hiatus]

II: Much Ado About Everything

Like a broken record, the sentence burns itself to Keith's conscience over and over again.

I slept with my best friend's boyfriend. I slept with my best friend's boyfriend. I slept with my best friend's boyfriend!

Might as well write the words Boyfriend Fucker on his forehead. Or maybe even the simple, but effective Homewrecker.

Keith chews on his bottom lip. As much as he hated to admit—and was rather embarrassed to—it must've been damn good sex. Lance looked like he'd been mauled by a freaking bear.

Keith shakes his head, ridding his brain of the off-putting thought. He had grossed himself out a bit—he shouldn't be thinking about Lance that way. It wasn't...right. It wasn't...moral.

Do they make handbooks about these things? Like, a What-to-do-if-you-sleep-with-your-best-friend's-boyfriend manual. Those exist, right? God, he has to pull himself together.

The piece of paper being handed to him is what grabs him by the hair and yanks him back into reality—one where he was still in class and had to start paying attention because he had no idea what was in his hands.

"The hell is this? Thought we weren't having a midterm," Keith says as he peers down at the assignment, eyes narrowed as he glared at it in disgust, as if the paper were a bug—those of the disgusting variety that had to be squashed upon sight. Kinda like him.

"We aren't," Tanner then quips offhandedly, reading the slim paragraphs printed on his own copy. He peeks over at Keith, another one of those smirks on his lips. "Weren't you paying attention?"

Keith blinks, already feeling a blush growing on the apples of his cheeks. Damn Tanner for getting the best of him. Damn him and his stupid little smirk.

"Uh, well, no...?" Keith drifts, furrowing his eyebrows as he drops his gaze down to his paper.

He hears a chuckle and feels Tanner lean closer. He can smell his minty fresh breath as he speaks. "We're not getting a midterm, just an essay,"

It takes every fiber in Keith's being to not crash his lips into his. Instead, he nervously skims the assignment.

"On...the importance of art in our modern world?" Keith reads, raising an eyebrow. Tanner leans out of his space, nodding. Keith breathes a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, it's due next week though. During midterms," Tanner explains, pointing at the paragraph providing that information.

"So basically a take-home midterm," Keith says, unimpressed.

Tanner simply shrugs a shoulder, sticking out his bottom lip and humming, his hands making an 'I don't know' gesture. "I guess so," he murmurs.

"Huh," Keith utters, staring down at the paper. "So there is no midterm...but the essay grade would replace the midterm grade...therefore, the essay is the midterm..."

Tanner laughs. "Well, that's one way to look at it. Guess it is the midterm. Is she allowed to do that? A take home essay instead of a midterm?" He asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow and—goddamnit—smirking.

Keith's shoulders rise and fall, a similar action to Tanner's previous shrug. "I guess so. Who knows?" He replies honestly before letting out a sigh. "Probably..."

Tanner then gently prods Keith's shoulder with a finger, smirk now gone and replaced with a soft smile. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He asks expectantly, lowering his voice and leaning closer.

Keith gulps when he finds—to his pleasure, but also frustration—that their faces were only a few inches apart; he could practically feel Tanner's breath on his face. "Um, sure? What's up?" Keith whispers back, trying his best to sound casual.