(A/N - Pidge uses female pronouns in this, please don't attack me)
The sky was already dark, despite it only being 5 pm. Winter in the castle was miserable, especially for the Quidditch teams who needed to practice, but couldn't due to the constant cloudy or rainy forecast. The Slytherin common room was quiet, many students spending their free time upstairs in the library or Great Hall, while others lingered around the common rooms. Keith and Pidge were sitting in the corner of the room, light from the fireplace illuminating the pages of the books laid out in front of them. They were supposed to be studying, but every few minutes one would bring up the topic of Quidditch, and the conversations would then convert from curses and spells to the speed of the Snitch. Keith was the Seeker of the Slytherin team, while Pidge was the Keeper.
"Pidge, I've had enough," Keith suddenly said, placing down his book, "we keep talking about Quidditch and yet we haven't gone out to practice. Can we just ditch studying for an hour before it starts raining?"
Pidge thought this over, glancing between the stack of books, Keith, then back at the books."I guess it would be better to go now rather than later since it's probably going to rain. And that means there'll be no one else there, because I'm pretty sure no team would schedule to use the pitch knowing it would rain. We'll only have about an hour but sure, we can practice."
Keith's eyes lit up and what seemed like a small smile appeared on his face as he rushed to his room to get his clothes, boots, broom, and the case of balls. Pidge decided that she would just accompany Keith to the field, but not play herself; mostly so she could just keep reading. Once the Seeker was ready, the two left the common room and got out of the castle unseen; if they had been spotted there definitely would have been questions.
They made their way down the hills outside of the castle and approached the pitch, the thick fog covering the tops of the goal posts and stands, which were still decorated in yellows and reds after the last Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor match. Stopping at the base of one post, Keith placed down his broom and set down the case of balls. Before he could open it to release the Snitch, the faint sound of voices appeared from off side of the pitch. Pidge instinctively grabbed her wand but lowered it when two figures walked into view, one in a red Quidditch outfit and the other in a simple shirt with red and black robes.
"Oh, hey it's Hunk!" The Slytherin girl called, recognising the face of the 7th year Gryffindor. Hunk seemed to notice her as well and jogged up to meet her, the two quickly making conversation as the other Gryffindor approached Keith. As he stepped into sight, Keith automatically recognised the dark skin, windswept hair, and the red Quidditch uniform. Lance was the Seeker of the Gryffindor team, so he and Keith naturally formed a rivalry between themselves.
The green robed student spoke up, frowning at Lance's presence, "What do you think you're doing here? Pidge and I came to practice."
"And that's exactly why I came down too; I need to practice," He replied, annoyance tinting his words.
"Pidge and I were here first, we should get a say."
"You didn't book the pitch," Lance snarled back.
"Well, neither did you," Keith took a step closer in an intimidating fashion.
"Um, guys," Hunk said, approaching the two Seekers, "the pitch is quite big, you can just practice on opposite sides--"
"Quiet Hunk, I'm trying to win an argument," the other Gryffindor interrupted.
"He is right though; the pitch would be big enough for two Seekers to practice with two Snitches at the same time," Pidge suggested, backing up her friend's claims.
Keith seemed to completely ignore Pidge and continued his dispute with Lance.
"I need to be on top of my game for the Hufflepuff match, which is next week,"
"You just don't want to admit that I'm a better Seeker than you,"
"Since when are you better than me?"
"Since all those times I beat you."
"Oh, so those two times?" Keith replied sarcastically.
"I'm surprised you manage to win at all on that," Lance said, gesturing at the broomstick in Keith's hands.
"I'm surprised you can still fly in those rags you call robes," Keith snapped, nodding at the faded robes Lance was wearing.
"These were my brother's robes! Almost everyone in my family was a Seeker, Slytherin."
As much as he hated to admit it, Keith actually enjoyed arguing with Lance; it was quite amusing in some aspects. His eyebrows would furrow, he would make wild hand gestures, and occasionally he would pout, puffing his cheeks out in a way that made him look somewhat cute.
Before he could counter Lance's words, Pidge stepped in between them with her arms out.
"Guys, the pitch is big enough for both of you," she lowered her raised arms, "Gryffindor can practice on one end and Slytherin on the other. You'll both have goal posts, both have a Snitch, and you'll be too far away to get in each other's ways."
The Seekers scoffed at each other before nodding slowly, still holding the angry gaze between them. The younger student gently tugged Keith away by the sleeve of his robe to where they had left the case containing the Snitch.
"Wait!" The Gryffindor Seeker suddenly shouted, gaining the attention of everyone there, "We can have separate sides, but we still have to race."
"For what?" Keith asked.
"Nothing, just a race."
The dark haired boy thought this over before speaking again, "Okay, but on one condition," he paused, "if you lose you have to kiss me."
He didn't realise what he had said until he had already said it, but he managed to keep a smirk on his face.
"Fine," Lance replied without any hesitation, "but if you lose you have to kiss me." He made this clear by pointing between Keith and himself, a look of determination in his eyes.
They shook hands, both earning suspicious looks from Hunk and Pidge, and went to get their brooms. Keith adjusted his robes before taking off, circling the posts a few times to warm up.
He was confused; why did he say that? And why did Lance agree? Why didn't Pidge or Hunk mention it? He intended the statement to come out as teasing, then to receive a slightly insulted comeback from Lance; why did it come out so flirty? From Keith's perspective, he didn't have any romantic interest in the Cuban boy. To others, it might look like they were dating, but their behavior towards each other was nothing but friendly rivalry, right?
He shook off the thought and continued flying aimlessly, focusing on the game at hand, not his irrational feelings. Lance was also in the air by that point, testing his balance now that the winds had picked up speed. On the ground, Pidge prepared the case with the Snitch and placed it in between the posts closest to them. Keith and Lance flew into their positions, opposite each other from the sides of the posts.
"Three..." Pidge started the countdown, one hand on the case and the other holding up a number of fingers.
"Two," she unlocked the case.
"One!" A speck of gold escaped from its containment and darted upwards, disappearing into the clouds of fog.
The two Seekers were instantly on its tail, frantically searching for the gold ball as they raced around the pitch. The cold air howled against Keith's ears, whipping his hair frantically around his cheeks. The Snitch soon got lost within the thick fog, yet both of the players still darted in the direction it had been going in originally. Lance's red robes kept disappearing and reappearing in Keith's line of sight, giving flecks of colour to the otherwise grey surroundings.
Keith made a sharp turn to the side as he approached the poles, and heard Lance gasp behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the Gryffindor student temporarily lose balance, as if he was following Keith and not expecting the turn. Keith found the occurrence amusing, and repressed a laugh as he watched Lance attempt to regain his position atop the broom, while still going at a moderate pace. He looked up and locked eyes with the pale boy, his mouth turning to a frown.
"Good job, snake boy," he sneered sarcastically. Keith choked back another laugh at the nickname.
"It was your choice to follow me so persistently," he replied, not waiting for a reply before flying off.
Meanwhile
Pidge and Hunk had sat themselves against the side of the stands, leaning against the thick material that bound the wooden structure beneath. The Seekers had disappeared into the fog about a minute into the game, so there was really no point in watching. Their conversations drifted from school work, family, and finally Quidditch. Pidge wanted to rant about Slytherin's recent loss against Ravenclaw (she claimed that the referee purposely miscounted out of bias towards the other team), but Hunk was trying to talk about the match taking place behind them.
"Who do you think will win?" He asked.
"It's hard to tell; I mean, Keith is very stubborn when it comes to one-on-one things, but Lance is quite good at the sport in general, despite being a total narcissist," Pidge explained, "Honestly it's difficult to bet on either when they're both so dead set on winning, despite there being no prize."
"Actually, what about that bet they made at the beginning of the game? Like how 'if you lose you have to kiss me'?"
"Yeah, that was kinda weird, and completely out of nowhere," Pidge commented, shrugging.
"Do you think they're dating?" Hunk asked, propping his arms against his knees.
"Well, they're pretty much always going on about how much they hate each other," she stressed hate by holding up quotation marks with a cynical expression plastered to her face.
"They really do act like a couple though; I mean their endless bickering is kinda like a married couple's, and they're always staring at each other in class, and Lance always has this sparkle in his eyes whenever he talks about Keith..." The taller student explained.
"I once found them asleep on each other in the Slytherin common room at 3 am," Pidge said, a small smirk on her face as she realised that this information could be used for blackmail.
They sat in silence for a bit longer, before the Slytherin student spoke up again,
"Do you think they'll actually kiss?"
Hunk thought for a few seconds, furrowing his brows slightly in thought, "I'll give you 3 sickle if they do."
Pidge smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes hidden behind her glasses, "Deal," They shook hands before leaning back against the tarp. Knowing Keith, he probably wouldn't back down from an opportunity like this, and he certainly wouldn't accept defeat easily, so there was a good chance of them actually kissing. She could practically feel the 3 sickle already.
Meanwhile
The wind whipped at Keith's face, making his eyes water as he continued flying in circles, searching for that familiar hint of gold in the clouds. The tops of his feet were sore from rubbing against the insides of his boots for so long, but he brushed it off quickly so that it wouldn't distract him too much. Lance was no longer in sight, probably on the other end of the pitch.
The match had gone on for longer than expected, and it was about to start raining, so Keith debated whether or not to call it off. While he was thinking, a winged speck of yellow zoomed past his ear, narrowly missing his skin. He let out a yelp of surprise before chasing after it, his hand outstretched in attempt to grab it. All of a sudden a red robed figure was next to him, his arm stretched out to snatch it at any moment.
But Keith pushed forward one last time, sending Lance off guard and making him fall behind. He spread his fingers and felt the cold surface of the Snitch hit his palm, quickly squeezing his hand into a fist.
Keith flew a few feet higher and held the Snitch above his head, adrenaline racing through his body. He made his victory clear by yelling a long note before dropping his hand, panting slightly. Below, Lance made his way over to the nearest tower, landing on one of the steps and placing his broom to the side. The Slytherin followed, dropping down onto a seat on the opposite side.
Lance doubled over and tried catching his breath, resting his palms on his cheeks. Keith started undoing his boots, noticing how red the tops of his feet had gotten after rubbing vigorously against his broom for so long.
"I guess I was wrong," Lance said between pants, "your broom isn't all that shitty." There was a hint of unusual fondness in his words.
"You're shitty," Keith shot back, affection lingering in his words.
"Shut up," he said, looking up at the pale boy, "I almost won."
"But you didn't."
"Be quiet, Slytherin."
They were quiet for a bit, Keith trying to make the pains in his feet subside while Lance simply fiddled with the twigs on the end of his broom. Keith felt his stomach knot when he remembered their deal, but he still wasn't sure if either of them had actually meant it, or if it was just a heat-of-the-moment type deal. Nonetheless, he decided to bring it up.
"I won. You have to kiss me," the sentence came out wrong, making Keith cringe at himself.
"Wait," Lance turned to face him fully, a confused look in his eyes and one eyebrow raised slightly, "were you actually serious about that?"
"You sounded pretty into it, almost enthusiastic."
"I--" Lance cut himself off, feeling his cheeks heating up. When Keith had first proposed the deal, Lance was defiantly into it, despite not entirely thinking it through.
Both of them had never really thought about their feelings towards each other, if there were any. Sure, they acted pretty close most of the time, but they had never thought of their relationship as anything more than a simple friendly rivalry. When Keith first suggested that they kiss if either one loses, Lance realised just how much he actually did want to kiss Keith. How maybe his feelings were more than what he thought they were, and how maybe Keith felt the same way.
He stopped thinking about that, and put down his broom, got up and sat next to the Slytherin player. More silence followed; the tension doubled. Keith looked up to see Lance and-- Jesus Christ he's so beautiful. When did he get so beautiful? Thoughts like this took over his body and made his mind numb, legs feel heavy, chest feel light, face feel hot; what the hell was this?
They stared at each other for what felt like years, their eyes refusing to look away now that they had both finally realised what that feeling was. Every hint of it, every side glace across the library, every glare from opposite sides of the hall, every jokingly flirty statement, everything.
Lance's hands were on Keith's cheeks. They were so close Keith was sure he could feel heat radiating off of the other's body. Goddamn, Lance was gorgeous close up; his eyes, his eyelashes, the hair that stuck to his forehead with sweat and humidity, the freckles littering his dark skin, his lips, his lips, his lips...
And now those lips were pressed against his own. They were soft, gentle, they tasted like Lance, Lance, Lance.
Keith melted, his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. He kissed back, holy shit he actually kissed me, he actually did that, and I'm actually kissing him back, what is this? He felt his hands trailing up to Lance's hair, twisting his fingers within the windblown locks absentmindedly. The adrenaline overcoming Keith's mind flooded in heavier with every moment passing, making him kiss Lance more passionately, who gladly returned the action.
Lance was the first to pull away, keeping their faces very close as he caught his breath. His eyes were half closed and hazy, his lips and cheeks red. Not even two seconds passed before Keith pulled him back in, pushing him against the wall of the tower. It got more heated from there, the Gryffindor player's hands on Keith's neck while his were still in Lance's hair. Each time one would pull away for air the other would close the gap again, tilting their heads to deepen the kiss. Keith's mind was blank, all he could focus on was the person in front of him; his robes, his hands, his face, his shoulders, his panting, his taste. How Keith had wished for this moment.
Meanwhile
The already darkened sky had gotten dimmer over time, the clouds growing thicker and more threatening with every minute passing. Rain fell slowly at first, staining the grass with patches of moisture, but eventually it turned into buckets or water falling from the sky. Pidge and Hunk had moved from their position under the towers and sought refuge from the rain under a large tree near the pitch.
After another minute, they both agreed that they should return to the castle, but they had to find a way to tell the others. The two players had flown into one of the towers and disappeared within the fog and behind the flags, and there had been no sign of any return for a while. Pidge jogged up so that she was standing about twenty meters from the tower and shouted against the rain,
"Keith! Lance!" She cupped her hands around her mouth in attempt to project more sound, which wasn't that successful considering the rain was hitting the tarp quite hard, blocking out any outside noises, "We're going inside! Gryffindor common room!"
Pidge covered her head from the rain with her arms and ran back to Hunk, who had stashed their books away into a bag.
"Did you hear anything back from them?" He asked, picking up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Nah, it was probably too loud in there, with the rain and wind and stuff,"
"What do you think they're doing?"
"Probably making out,"
Hunk subtlety reached into his pocket to check if he actually had 3 sickle on him.
The two pulled their hoods over their faces and ran up the slopes surrounding the field, droplets of water rebounding from their shoes and soaking their ankles. After jogging a while longer, they entered a courtyard and removed their wet robes, going up to the Gryffindor tower.
Meanwhile again because I love pov switches
Keith finally pulled away, leaning back to rest on the side of a stand. Lance's hair was a complete mess, the unkempt tufts sticking up at every angle - and it looked absolutely adorable. His lips were slightly bruised and pulled back into a grin, his bright eyes shining. Keith's face went red and he glanced away, attempting to cover his flushed cheeks by fake coughing and putting his hand over them.
"What the fuck," Lance breathed, his lips tugging into a smile on the last syllable. They both started laughing. Happy, genuine laughing; which Keith hadn't done in a while. He was so overwhelmed, confused, and yet the situation just seemed ludicrous. Lance coughed, interrupting his bursts of laughter, and sighed happily.
"Did that actually just happen?" He asked, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. Keith could barely speak, he just smiled and nodded.
"We should probably go inside now though, I'm sure Pidge and Hunk have already left," the dark skinned boy said, sliding out from Keith's hold.
They mounted their brooms and took off, getting blown off track a bit under the strong winds. The rain pelted down like rocks from the black clouds but they managed to make it to the ground quickly, despite the thick fog disorientating them. They covered their heads with their arms and ran back to the castle, the soaked grass splashing up their robes.
Once inside the castle, the two Quidditch players made their way down to the Slytherin common room, being careful not to be spotted by lurking teachers. Their wet shoes stamped marks on the stone floors, making subtle splashes with each step. Quiet laughs echo down the halls as they ran to the dungeons where the common room was located until they finally reached the door. Keith breathlessly muttered the password and the doors swung open, revealing that the room was mostly empty, the only other students facing the walls studying or sleeping.
The boys took off their long robes to hang them up against the fire, still clad in damp undershirts. They flopped onto a dark green velvet lounge, Lance's head slightly resting against Keith's dark hair. Keith couldn't process it though, he was too exhausted to think straight. They both ended up dozing off, the room filled with the soft sounds of scratching quills and flickering from the flames.
Later
It was past midnight; way too late for students to be wandering corridors. The chess game that Hunk and Pidge had immersed themselves in became more intense than either had expected, and they ended up playing seven more rounds in attempt to even out the score. Only when the lights had dimmed to darkness was when they realised how late it was, and that Pidge would have to find a way back to the Slytherin common room without being spotted.
She slipped out onto the Grand Staircase and removed her shoes to stifle as much noise as possible, before silently cantering down the stairs. The soft snores of paintings rebounded against the high walls as she quietly ran through the halls. Once she reached the dungeons she whispered the password and pushed the heavy doors open with her shoulder, her hands occupied with holding her shoes.
Pidge entered the common room and was immediately greeted with the display of Lance and Keith sprawled against each other on a couch, their Quidditch robes hovering near the fire. Pidge smiled at the sight, sighing internally at how hopeless they were. She flicked her wand to make a blanket float into her arms before placing it over the two boys and walking to the dorms.