Archive of Our Own ^beta

There were three words that Lance responded to best in the world.

Three words that got his blood pumping, his heart racing, and his grin so large that it could almost be described as unearthly.

Three words that he would do anything in his power to uphold, to conquer, to prove.

And he was hearing them right now, crisp and clear despite the overwhelming noise of the surrounding party, as if nothing else mattered in that moment. As if there were only those three words and nothing else.

“I dare you.”

Lance’s eyes widened as Hunk leaned away; those three little words having been whispered in his ear with all the subtlety of a drunken seagull. And as Lance turned to stare at his best friend, cheeks flushed from alcohol and head buzzing pleasantly, he found himself reacting accordingly.

“Hunk, buddy, say that again?”

His friend smirked wickedly, and winked sloppily.

“I dare you! Double dog dare! Triple dart dare! Quadruple...uh-” he trailed off, pressing his fingers to his temples as he struggled to come up with a clever rendition of the phrase. “Quadruple scoop dare!”

Lance giggled obnoxiously, the vodka shots he had taken nearly twenty minutes before finally making themselves known.

“Alright,” he glanced around the room, leaning heavily into Hunk’s side as they fell back on the couch. “Who?”

They were at someone’s house party; a celebration for the spookiest time of year, and thus everyone was dressed to the nines in outlandish costumes.

Well, dressed to the nines or else dressed to the bare minimum, but Lance hadn’t been about to complain about the severe lack of clothing several of the attendees sported.

His eyes lingered on a group of girls who fell into the latter category, and he nudged Hunk’s side as he nodded in their direction.

“How about one of them?”

Hunk shook his head, his robber's mask falling crookedly over his eyes.

“Hmm, nope. Too easy.”

“Hunk! You flatter me!” Lance pressed a hand to his heart as he let the compliment wash over him, fill him up and fan his ego. His bestie glanced over with a small frown.

“What? No, I mean their wrists are too small. They would just slip out and walk off. No fun.”

Lance feigned injury, smacking Hunk’s upper arm lightly to show his offense.

“Rude!”

“You need more of  challenge. Someone who won’t be able to get away.”

“Dude,” Lance titled forward on the couch to gape at his friend. “That’s super creepy.”

Hunk shrugged, his own reddened cheeks contrasting starkly against the black and white striped shirt that completed his costume. He pointed to Lance’s chest, where a plastic police badge was pinned.

“It’s not creepy, it’s just law enforcement. You’re a policeman, right?”

Lance nodded.

“Then it’s not weird. They’re just handcuffs.” He snickered to himself as he took another swig from the drink in his cup, and a strong waft of whiskey made Lance’s nose twitch. “Plus…” he leaned forward again, so that his face was right up close to Lance’s, and tried once again to whisper, failing miserably. “I dare you, remember? You can say no, if you-”

“Oh no,” Lance interrupted, making to stand and adjusting his police hat in the process. “A dare is a dare, and Lancey Lance never backs down from a dare. Especially when liquor is involved!” He grabbed the cup from Hunk’s hand, downed the rest of the booze, and winced at the burn of it in his throat.

Hunk applauded him, earning them several curious glances from nearby strangers.

Lance bowed theatrically, before waving his hands around the room.

“Pick away, good criminal sir.”

Hunk beamed, sitting up on the couch and leaning over the edge of it as he peered around at the groups of people that had collected in the living room. There was plenty of selection, but apparently Hunk was being particularly picky, and took his sweet time analyzing each person before finally cheering loudly and pointing across the room.

“There!”

Lance followed his finger, towards a back wall beyond the kitchen where a smaller group of individuals were gathered in the hallway discussing photos on the wall.

Lance frowned.

“Are you pointing at that shrimpy chick with the glasses? Or the taller dude that looks just like her? Or-” Lance’s gaze wandered over to the guy beside the two, who he assumed to be siblings, and his mouth dropped open. “Please tell me you mean that beefcake with the white streak in his hair! Or that goddess right beside him!”

Nice choice Hunk!

But his friend was shaking his head, entirely too gleeful for Lance’s liking, and adjusted his point to be more direct.

“No, not them. I mean that guy in the back. The one by the window.”

Lance tore his gaze, almost regretfully, off the attractive pair, where it settled on the figure of a boy separated from the rest of the party. He was watching the same group Lance had just ogled, a faint smile playing at his lips.

His costume was...well, lackluster to say the least. Lance wasn’t even sure he had dressed up to be honest. All he wore was a white polo shirt, khaki pants, and a pair of Vans.

The mullet must have been a wig, because what the fuck, but Lance couldn’t for the life of him decide what the costume was. Maybe a reference he didn’t understand?

Who knows, not everyone could be super creative on Halloween, and maybe this was a last minute get-up.

“Hunk, no, c’mon,” Lance re-joined his friend on the couch, peering over the edge of it at the boy. He was cute, in a way, but if Lance was going to do something as ridiculous as handcuffing himself to a stranger, then he at least wanted some say in the matter. And those two bombshells he had spotted, dressed as Greek Gods or something equally as fitting, were the perfect candidates. “Let me have that guy,” he pointed to the muscular one, noticing for the first time the prosthetic that he wasn’t sure was part of the costume or not. It wouldn’t matter either way, the guy was still a perfect ten. “Or that lovely lady beside him.”

He pointed, in case Hunk had someone missed the dark-skinned model standing in the group. Her hair was braided and piled high on her head, white and almost glowing in the dimly lit hallway.

Hunk shrugged, but if he was even for a moment considering changing his pick, he didn’t let it show.

“Nope. I want that one.” Again he gestured to the loner boy, and Lance let out a whine in reply.

“ Huuunnkkk….” he drawled, but his best friend wasn’t having it.

“I dared you. You can back out. But my respect for you would deteriorate faster than francium-”

“Alright alright,” Lance cut him off. “You’re such a nerd.”

Hunk grinned smugly.

“Actually I’m a robber. And you’re a cop! So get in their mister policeman! Arrest that man!”

Lance rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the growing smile as he slowly lifted himself up from off the couch.

“Fine, but only for you.”

Hunk blew him a kiss, which Lance made a show of catching and pocketing, before turning towards the stranger Hunk had requested for his dare.

This will be easy, Lance thought to himself as he maneuvered the crowd. Just handcuff yourself to the guy, say a few cheesy lines, and disappear into the night.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but the closer Lance got to the boy, the more confident he became.

And upon closer inspection, this guy, though not as vibrantly beautiful as those other two strangers, was nothing to ignore. He shone in his own way, albeit a darker, more brooding one. It was like comparing dawn to dusk; the sun to the moon.

This guy was absolutely gorgeous, and Lance was grateful to have all that alcohol mixing in his stomach, adding a swagger to his step as he slowly drifted over towards his victim.

It was easier than he was expecting, given his inebriated state, and in the span of two seconds Lance had successfully, and admittedly, smoothly , attached himself to this stranger via the pair of handcuffs that had come with his costume.

Their fate was sealed with a click that was drowned out by the sounds of the party.

“What the-” the boy started, glancing down as Lance’s hands wrapped around his wrist, but his attention was quickly pulled back up to his face as Lance leaned in close.

“Hey there handsome,” he winked, head spinning from whiskey and maybe something else as he noticed how much more attractive the guy was this close up. “Heard you’ve been breaking some rules.”

The boy blinked, drawing Lance’s focus to his eyes, which were a shade of blue so dark they could almost be described as purple.

Indigo maybe? No way that’s natural. Must be contacts.

The illusion of flawlessness was destroyed as the stranger frowned, eyebrows lowering menacingly over violet.

“Who the fuck are you and what the shit did you just put on me?”

Lance drew back, slightly miffed that his flirt had gone unanswered. He was quick to recover though, and raised one brow flirtatiously as he put his free hand to his hip.

“That’s no way to talk to an officer. I think I should give you a ticket for that one.”

Again the boy outright ignored his attempts, and lifted their now attached wrists while shaking them angrily.

“Get this off of me!”

Lance shook his head, pointing to his badge and trying one more time to get an adequate response out of the guy.

“Sorry, no can do. You’re under arrest.”

A pause, in which Lance allowed himself to grow hopeful.

“For what?” The boy asked, and Lance made a finger gun with his free hand, throwing in a wink for good measure as he answered.

“Stealing my heart.”

A flush crept into the strangers cheeks, and Lance was about to congratulate himself for a job well done when the his hopes were shattered to bits.

“Not interested.”

Oh…

OH!

“Shit, sorry dude,” he said hastily, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

I have to stop assuming everyone is either gay or bi. I keep forgetting straight is a thing.

The stranger must have understood what Lance was apologizing for, and held up a hand in what  appeared to be surrender as he rushed to explain.

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean like that. I do-or I mean, I am, or, fuck, would be-” he broke off with a groan, pinching the space between his eyebrows with his fingers and staring back at Lance. “I’m gay.”

Lance grinned, letting his previous worries fly away as he settled back into the role of seducer.

“Nice to meet you Gay,” he teased. “I’m Lance, and I’m very interested.”

The boy groaned, stepping back as far as the handcuffs would allow before lifting them to Lance’s face and making an irritated sound in the back of his throat.

“No! I meant I’m not interested in these! ” he shook their wrists, and Lance frowned down at the cuffs binding them. “Get them off!”

“Why?” he asked, using the opportunity to lean in once again. He dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “Afraid of getting a little rough?”

“More like afraid of being stuck to a weirdo all night.”

And just like that Lance’s confidence fled, tail between it’s legs.

Savage!

“I am not a weirdo!” he shot back, all attempts at sounding suave and enticing jumping out the window.

“Then how do you explain coming up to me and fucking attaching yourself to my wrist with a pair of handcuffs!” the boy fired back. “It’s creepy!”

Creepy?! No! It’s cute! And fun!

Lance did his best to cross his arms over his chest, pulling the stranger in closer in the process.

“Look, it’s not like I sought you out or anything. I only did this as a dare.”

The boy’s face dropped, and Lance wondered at the sudden change for a brief moment, but then his arm was being tugged back as the stranger tried to break the handcuffs with shear force alone.

“Woah-hey!” Lance yanked his arm back, interrupting the impeding swing as the stranger made to karate chop the chain connecting them. “Don’t ruin my costume!”

“Then get them off!”

“ Fine.” Lance spat out the word. Clearly this guy had no idea how to have fun. And what was worse was the fact that he had admitted to being gay, so it wasn’t like he was uncomfortable with Lance’s flirting. His ego was taking a beating, seeing as the only other explanation to the behaviour was that this dude was just not into him at all.

I’m not that bad looking.

And I was only complimenting him. Stupid.

He doesn’t know what he’s missing.

But Lance couldn’t help but feel slightly wounded at this guy’s evident need to be rid of him. To be free and away and putting as much distance between them as possible.

I didn’t think I was that bad…

Lance heaved a sigh, reaching into his back pocket for the key that would separate them, and wanting nothing more than to run back to Hunk’s warm arms, where he would hug away his growing sadness.

Stupid dare.

And stupid...whatever this kid’s name is.

Lance’s frown deepened when his fingers couldn’t feel the small shape of the key, and he checked his other pockets with increasing panic, until finally he lifted his gaze guiltily to the stranger before him.

“Um…”

His face must have said the rest, since the boy groaned loudly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He reached forward then, and Lance was thrown for a loop as hands went to his chest, dipping inside the pockets of his shirt. Feeling, really feeling, and coming up empty. It was when those hands moved down to his pants that Lance interfered.

“Woah hey now!” He jumped back, and the stranger glared up at him. “Settle down there buckaroo. You won’t find what you’re looking for.” He paused, taking a shot in the dark just for the hell of it. “Unless, you had... other plans...”

Red cheeks, and an averted gaze.

Ha! You may not like me but at least my flirts are working.

Take that Mullet.

The boy was quick to recover though, and turned away to the best of his ability as he threw his free hand over his head in frustration.

“You lost the fucking key! I can’t believe this!”

“Hey, lost makes it sound so intentional. Try...misplaced.”

The glare he received in reply was almost comical, and Lance stifled a laugh. He broke off as he was suddenly dragged across the room towards the kitchen, wrist whining as the cuff chafed into his skin.

“Woah, hey, where are you going!” he called out, and the stranger didn’t even both glancing back as he answered.

“To get a knife.”

“ WHAT?!” Lance shrieked, and several people glanced over in their direction. The added stares only made his attachee walk faster.

“Jesus, chill,” he mumbled, digging through cupboards upon entering the kitchen. “You’ll draw attention to us.”

“Oh-ho,” Lance cooed, taking that bait and running with it. “If it’s privacy you’re after then you could have just asked-” he broke off as the stranger swung around to face him, butchers knife in hand. “Fuck dude I was just kidding-”

“Shut it,” the boy said, before tossing their hands up on the counter and drawing back.

“HoLY SHIT WAIT!” Lance screeched, reaching up to halt the movements of the knife-bearing hand whilst cowering in fear at the same time. “You can’t just hack away at it! It’s metal! And you’re drunk!”

“I’m not drunk,” the boy said, then, after a moment’s consideration: “well, not that drunk. I can still wield a knife.”

Who are you!?

But Lance had other concerns that took priority.

Concerns involving the potential loss of his left hand in a tragic intoxicated accident that would be shameful to explain to his mother.

Not really the memories he hoped to take away from the night.

“Just, wait a sec, ok? A knife won’t work.” He set about searching the kitchen for something else to use, while the stranger followed reluctantly.

“Why can’t I use a knife?” he asked, and Lance glanced back at him with raised brows.

“Because I like my left hand just the way it is thank you very much.”

The stranger scoffed.

“I wouldn’t miss. I’m an expert.”

Lance rolled his eyes, continuing his search and doing his best to ignore the very large, very sharp knife still in the other’s grasp.

“Expert, sure,” he mumbled. “Try maniac. That’s what you look like.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who thought it would be a great idea to handcuff myself to a stranger and lose the key!”

“Not lost, just misplaced,” Lance said, turning back and displaying a pair of scissors he had found. “Let’s use these instead.”

The stranger gave him a look through heavily lidded eyes; gaze lingering on the scissors before slowly working it’s way up to Lance’s face.

“You think you can cut through these?”

“Yeah?”

And then the stranger was laughing, the sound so sudden and pleasantly nice to hear that all Lance was capable of doing was stare.

Oh my good lord…

Because how could someone this brash, this crude! have a laugh like that!

What the FUCK! No fair!

The sound only lasted a few moments, but already Lance had committed it to memory. The stranger shook his head lightly, smile still in full force as he gestured down to the scissors in Lance’s hand.

“Alright. Be my guest.”

Lance huffed, ignoring the doubtful tone, and brought their hands back up to the counter. He slipped the the metal chain between the scissors and, with all the force he could muster in his left hand, tried to cut in half.

It didn’t work.

Like, at all.

Lance yelped as the scissors twisted on the chain, not doing any damage in the slightest, and fell out of his grip. The stranger began laughing once again, which Lance did his best to ignore as he bent to retrieve the tool.

“Nice one, officer ,” he teased, and Lance thrust the scissors into his grasp.

“ You do it then, Mr. ‘I’ll just hack it in half like Fruit Ninja’.”

“Not hack . It would have been a clean slice.”

“Whatever you say Samurai. Just try the scissors first.”

“ Fine ,” the stranger replied, “I will. ”

He positioned the scissors in the same manner Lance had, and was a tad more successful as he tried to cut the chain in half.

And by successful Lance meant that the scissors didn’t fly across the kitchen this time.

The handcuffs however, despite the grunting and curses of frustration from the person beside him, still remained impressively intact.

It was on the fourth attempt at getting through that the scissors broke; a loud metallic clang echoing around the kitchen, and Lance and the stranger stared at each other wide-eyed as someone, presumably the owner of the house, yelled out “what was that?!”

“Shit-”

“Run!”

They took off, the stranger leading the way as they bolted from the kitchen, away from the living room and towards the back, where a staircase lead to the upstairs portion of house.

Here they stopped, hiding in the stairwell as the sounds of angry cursing faded away.

“Oh my god,” Lance panted, turning towards the stranger and not even bothering to hide the grin on his face. “You just broke that dude’s scissors!”

The boy’s face dropped.

“What! No way! That was your fault!”

“How was it my fault? You were the one that went full Hulk mode and obliterated the poor things. And then you fled the scene!” Lance shook his head in mock disappointment. “A true criminal. I’m starting to think these handcuffs were well placed.”

The stranger huffed, taking a seat on the stairs and running a hand through his hair. Lance couldn’t look away, try as he might.

His hair looks so soft...I wanna touch it.

He almost did, but then the boy was talking, and Lance was jolted out of his reverie.

“Yeah well,” he muttered, “I wouldn’t have had to run if someone hadn’t put these stupid things on me in the first place.”

Lance hummed, taking the spot beside the stranger on the steps and leaning back.

“Don’t know who would ever do that.”

He could feel that indigo gaze on him, and glanced over to see a look of...well, not hatred plastered on the face of the boy beside him.

It was...nice, and the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth were just begging to be dealt with. Lance had a few ideas as to how, but decided not to act on them. He already had a pretty clear idea of how this guy felt about him anyways, and was pretty sure a sudden, steamy make-out session in the darkness of the stairwell wouldn’t change matters.

Oh...but wouldn’t that be nice…

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask…” the stranger tilted his head at Lance’s words, which he took as invitation to go on. “What the hell are you dressed as?”

The boy snorted, glancing down at his costume with an awkward smile.

“The scariest thing I could come up with.”

“And what’s that?” Lance asked, curious as to what sort of horror movies this guy had been watching where polos and khakis were considered frightening.

“A straight white guy.”

Lance burst out laughing, throwing his free hand over his mouth to try and muffle the sound, and the stranger let his own smile widen.

“Oh my god that’s so good! The khakis really make it,” Lance commented after settling down, and the boy huffed out a content breath as he stretched out his legs in front of himself. “But what about the wig?”

“Wig?” The stranger asked, hand going up to tug on a section of bang. “This is my real hair you jerk!”

“ What?!” Lance reached out, not bothering to consider person space, and lightly pulled on a strand of dark black locks. “Holy shit, it is!”

The stranger’s ears were a dark red when Lance leaned back again, which was completely endearing, pun fully intended.

“Okay then, so the mullet is legit,” he went on, then squinted as he stared into the boy’s eyes. “But what about the contacts?”

Again the stranger stared back in skepticism.

“Seriously? This is just my eye colour.”

Lance felt his mouth drop open.

“What the hell! You have naturally purple eyes?! What are you, a Targaryen?!”

“I wish ,” the stranger admitted. “I wanna be Mother of Dragons.”

Oh my god.

“I’m so happy you understood that reference. Like,” Lance made a relieved gesture that involved him pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “A fellow nerd. I’ve been blessed.”

A soft chuckle in reply, and then the stranger was lifting their attached wrists and frowning down at the handcuffs between them.

“Except, Khaleesi was Breaker of Chains...I’ve failed her miserably.”

Lance was once again laughing, and he angled himself so he was leaning against the wall of the stairwell to better face the person beside him.

“Breaker of Scissors is still a cool title.”

“Is it though,” the stranger deadpanned, and Lance snorted.

“t’s not your fault,” he said after a moment. “These babies are industrial strength. The real deal.”

“You’re joking,” the boy replied, and Lance shook his head.

“Nope. Or well, that’s what the shop owner told me. He said his customers like legitimacy. Only, he said it more like ‘leg intimacy . So the cuffs are real.”

There was a pause, and then the stranger’s thick black brows were shooting up on his forehead.

“Holy shit, did you buy this costume at a sex shop?!”

Lance could feel his ears begin to burn as he nodded shyly, having not expected the stranger to make that connection, much less break out in another fit of laughter.

“I mean,” Lance tried to explain, feeling mildly embarrassed at having admitted such a thing. “It was cheaper! And-”

“So you’re saying this is a strippers outfit,” the boy interrupted; eyes scanning over Lance’s shirt with newfound intensity. It was enough to make him blush.

“I guess?” he said slowly, and those indigo eyes snapped up to his face, where they lingered for a moment too long before releasing him from their hold.

“That’s too good,” he said softly, almost to himself, and Lance allowed himself to smile at the words.

I wonder if he’s into that sort of thing…

A silence stretched on between them; not an uncomfortable one, but one that Lance could find himself enjoying.

It was an odd realization, seeing as he usually preferred constant commotion, but there was just something about this stranger that had this...calming effect on him, and Lance was reminded, oddly enough, of being back at the ocean.

As much as he wanted to prolong that feeling however, Lance had something on his chest he wanted to get out while the night was still relatively young.

“Sorry, by the way,” he said, turning his attention down to his feet. “I really didn’t mean to lose the key.”

A beat of silence, and then the stranger was huffing out a small, entirely unexpected laugh.

“I figured. But you know,” he paused, and Lance glanced over to see him smiling down at their attached wrists. “It’s sorta funny, if you think about it. And I was sort of bored before so…”

“Oh my god,” Lance chuckled. “Are you thanking me?!”

The stranger rolled his eyes, a cute gesture now that Lance could see it coupled with that little half-smile. And then he was extending his free hand out for Lance to take.

“I’m Keith, by the way.”

Lance blinked, momentarily frozen from pure shock as he appraised the hand in front of him. But then he snapped out of it, and began laughing as he took Keith’s hand and shook it enthusiastically.

“Pleasure,” he said, using his best British accent to sound more posh. Keith snorted.

“You sound just like Allura.”

“Who?”

Keith waved him off.

“Just one of my brother’s friends.”

Lance raised an eyebrow in question.

“You say ‘friends’ as if it’s a bad thing. You don’t like her or something?”

Keith quickly shook his head, looking over at Lance fully with a look of mild horror on his face.

“God no! Allura is awesome! I just wish my brother would ask her out instead of pining over her. It’s obnoxious to watch.”

“Oooo,” Lance cooed, peaking around the edge of the wall that was hiding them and out at the party-goers. “Are they here tonight?”

Keith nodded, and a hand was reaching out in front of Lance to point in the direction of a very familiar looking group of people.

“They’re the two dressed as Greek-”

“Holy shit!” Lance interrupted, turning back to Keith slack-jawed. Keith stared back, before clearing his throat almost forcefully and ripping his gaze away.

“Yeah, people tend to have that reaction a lot-”

“No,” Lance quickly butt in, realizing how his statement had been misinterpreted. “I just meant, uh...oh wow this is embarrassing...umm…” he took a breath, avoiding Keith’s eyes as he confessed. “I was originally wanting to handcuff myself to either one of them.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Lance shrugged.

“My friend dared me to go up to you instead.”

Silence.

And then, ever so softly:

“Sorry.”

Lance whipped his head around to stare at Keith, who was making a point of memorizing the floor pattern.

“For what?!” he asked, the words coming out a bit louder than he had been anticipating. Keith moved his shoulders up and down in a half-assed shrug, not looking over as he answered.

“That I wasn’t them.”

“Woah, hey now,” Lance yanked their attached wrists upwards, pulling Keith’s attention to his face and winking. “I’m glad it was you. You’re cool.”

Keith still didn’t look convinced.

“You’re just saying that-”

“Nope. Nuh-uh,” Lance cut him off, letting their hands drop back down as he stood, pulling Keith up with him. “My friend is amazing at reading people. And he has fantastic taste. I mean, just look at you! You should be illegal! Hunk must have known you would be perfect for me.” Keith’s cheeks darkened at that, which did things to Lance’s insides he couldn’t blame on the alcohol.

Oh...hmm. How to feel about that…

The only logical way Lance thought to deal with these new feelings was to find a way to make alcohol the blame. He tugged on Keith’s arm, biting back a smile as he stumbled forward slightly at the motion.

“You..uh, you wanna grab a drink?”

Keith grinned, dimples coming out of hiding and feeling like electric shocks to the heart. Lance swallowed hard, the spit going down the wrong pipe as the full force of Keith’s smile hit him like a freight train, and he had to pass off his choking as a broken cough as he pulled Keith in the direction of the kitchen once again.

“Geez,” Keith chucked, “you ok there officer?”

“Just dandy,” Lance managed to wheeze out. “Now quit sassin me!”

They rounded the corner into the kitchen, noticing with stifled grins that the scissors were now on full display for everyone to see; a small note with ‘ murdered, this night, in cold blood. RIP. ’ placed beneath them.

Lance wanted to meet whoever had written it, and pat them on the back for having such a wonderful sense of humour.

Keith did the honours of pouring them drinks, which they clinked together almost celebratory in front of the ruined scissors, and Lance had a feeling they had just given birth to a wild inside joke.

I really hope I get to share in it after tonight though.

Keith is sort of...well, all I can say is thanks Hunk. You did good.

“So,” Keith interrupted his thoughts, and Lance glanced over at him with a questioning smile. “You live in the area?”

Oooo he wants to know about my personal life! I can do that!

“Why do you wanna know?” he teased, leaning against the counter of the table and taking a slow sip from his cup. “Planning something?”

“Just trying to see who’s house is closest.”

He hadn’t expected Keith to reply so efficiently; so outright perfectly that Lance was left spitting back into his cup at the threat of choking again.

Holy shit!

Keith was smirking up at him, face partially hidden behind his own cup as Lance struggled to control his erratic coughing.

“Wow, and here I thought you were used to a little flirting,” Keith jested, and Lance placed a hand to his heart in mock offense.

“I thought you didn’t like my flirting! You said you weren’t interested!”

Keith had the audacity to look bashful, and ducked his face to try and hide the growing blush, threatening to rival the red of his solo cup.

“Maybe I changed my mind…”

FUCK.

It is so on!

“Oh?” Lance gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts, slipping back into his seductive ways as easily as slipping on a pair of socks. He pulled his left hand in, thus dragging Keith in closer before switching their positions so that Keith was now flush against the counter as Lance trapped him there with his body. “You wanna,” he leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a hush, “do something about that?”

Whatever Keith had been about to say was forever lost as someone yelled out suddenly, causing them to spring apart and whip around in the direction the voice had come.

“Hey! Are you the two fucks who broke my scissors?!”

They didn’t even bother with a response, and, as if rehearsed, sprinted from the room as fast as the could.

“Get back here!” The man who had shouted ran after them, and Lance, by instinct probably, grabbed hold of Keith’s hand and maneuvered them through the thick throng of people, angling them away from the kitchen and down the hallway until he ran directly into a wall.

“What the-”

Or maybe not a wall. Lance glanced up, and saw the bulky form of the man he had been eyeing up nearly an hour before. The same guy Keith claimed to be related to.

No way in hell these two share the same genetics!

But that was as far as Lance could make it with his thoughts, as the man from the kitchen had seemingly caught up, and was still shouting angrily at himself and Keith.

“Stop those two!” he called out, and it was Keith’s turn to pull Lance along.

“Shiro!” he panted, “protect us!”

The guy, Shiro, looked around in confusion, as if he couldn’t decide what to focus on first. His eyes flashed to Keith’s face, then to Lance’s, then down at their hands and thus the handcuffs. Concern flickered in his expression for a moment, but then his gaze was being ripped back up to the man who was now standing directly in front of them, pointing at Lance and Keith with a ferocity that far outweighed the situation.

“Rollo,” Shiro said calmly, holding out his arms in front of his brother and Lance, shielding them from this dude’s apparent wrath. “What is going on?”

“They broke my scissors!” Rollo whined, and despite the anger in his tone, Lance couldn’t help the small snicker that escaped his lips upon hearing such a ridiculous sentence. Shiro glanced over at him, then down at Keith, before turning back to Rollo.

“Dude, how high are you right now?”

Rollo opened his mouth to answer, and a painfully long minute went by with no sound. Then he was breaking down, leaning into Shiro’s side and... oh my god he’s crying!

“My-my scissors! They were mine! And th-these two broke em!” he sobbed, pointing accusingly at Keith and then Lance. Shiro made a face, patting Rollo’s back uncomfortably before turning him in the direction of the living room.

“It’s ok. We’ll get you a new pair, yeah?”

Rollo was nodding, already walking off in the opposite direction, and Shiro watched to make sure he actually sat down before turning back towards them.

“Ok, what the actual hell just happened?!”

Instead of answer, Keith began laughing, the sound so infectious and pure that Lance couldn’t help but join in. Shiro raised both eyebrows, folding his arms over his chest and staring knowingly down at their joined hands.

“You gonna explain the handcuffs or do I have to assume the worst?”

Their laughter increased, with Keith going so far as to wipe tears from his eyes as he doubled over.

Maybe it was the alcohol messing with their better judgements.

Maybe it was the fact that the situation they had just escaped was so outlandish one couldn’t possibly not laugh.

Or maybe it was something else...something deeper. Something like the blissful knowledge of a mutual crush.

Lance didn’t ponder those thoughts long. All he cared about was the feeling of Keith’s hands pressed flush against his own.

“Oh my god,” Shiro chuckled, watching his brother with an affectionate smile. “Just get out of here. And no more breaking things!”

Keith nodded, laughter still bubbling from his chest as he tugged Lance away. He wasn’t sure where they were going, only knew that he didn’t care one bit, so long as it was with Keith.

They rounded a corner, where Keith leaned against the wall and finally managed to calm himself enough to take to a proper breath. Lance followed suit, keeping a small gap between them as he rubbed his eyes and giggled periodically as memories of Rollo’s tears surfaced.

What a freaking night-

His thoughts were broken off as he was suddenly tugged downwards, and all at once Keith’s lips were on his own.

It was a quick kiss, but one Lance would remember for a while. Keith broke apart, biting his lower lip almost subconsciously as he stared up at Lance with blazing cheekbones.

“Sorry,” Lance breathed, “but no.”

Keith’s face dropped, but Lance spoke quickly before the boy got the chance.

“That’s not gonna be enough for bail.”

A pause as Keith registered his words, and then he was grinning; indigo eyes rolling playfully as he pulled Lance in closer.

“Well, guess I’m at the mercy of the law then,” he whispered, and Lance felt a chill run down his spine, despite the heat of the alcohol in his blood.

Oh boy, Hunk you picked the right guy for me.

He responded with his own impish grin, pressing himself tight against Keith and answering with a kiss of his own. His free hand moved up to card through Keith’s hair, and yup...that’s soft as hell.

Keith had similar intentions, only his fingers were more curious, and after playing with the locks at the base of Lance’s neck, they moved to his chest, skimming down his torso before slipping underneath the hem of his shirt.

Lance couldn’t help the smirk that forced his lips upward, breaking the kiss apart, but Keith didn’t seem to be in the mood for stopping.

“You know,” Lance groaned as Keith’s teeth brushed lightly against his collarbone. “In answer to your previous question, I live a few blocks down from here.”

Keith pulled back, cheeks flushed and eyes wild as they roamed over Lance’s face.

“Really?”

Lance shrugged, feeling the heat on his own skin as he glanced around them self-consciously. Some people were staring, but for the most part they had the corner to themselves. But as much as Lance was enjoying the special attentions Keith was giving him, knowing that the comfort of his own room was just a five minute walk away was too tempting to ignore.

He focused back on Keith, who was still watching him keenly.

“I mean, if you want-”

Keith responded by slipping out from under him, pulling him in the direction of the front door. Lance started laughing again, but tugged on Keith’s arm to get him to slow as they passed the living room.

“Keith wait,” he said, and Keith turned back to face him. “I gotta tell Hunk I’m leaving. Otherwise he’ll wonder where I went.”

“Oh, ok sure,” Keith replied, scooting in close to Lance’s side as they angled their way back into the living room. There were more people here now than before, and just when Lance was about to call it quits and explain his whereabouts in the morning, he spotted his best friend.

“Over there,” he pointed, and Keith followed behind him as he maneuvered his way towards Hunk.

Only, Hunk wasn’t alone. There, sitting on the couch next to him, chatting happily with short brown hair and a bubbly laugh, was a girl.

A cute girl.

And from the way she was touching Hunk’s upper arm as they spoke, Lance knew in an instant that he wasn’t the only one who was going to get lucky that night.

Atta boy Hunk!

Only...now I feel like I shouldn’t disturb-

“Oh! Lance!” Hunk must have sensed his presence, and was turning around to stare at him with a beam so large it was almost blinding. “Meet Shay!”

He gestured over to the girl beside him, who waved shyly at them as Hunk grinned at her. But then his attention was back on Lance, moving down his arm to where Keith was still attached.

They weren’t holding hands at that point, seeing as the crowd hadn’t allowed for it, and Hunk’s eyes widened knowingly as he took in the handcuffs.

“Oh! Crap! You probably want the key back!”

Wait...what?!

“You have it?” he asked, incredulous, and Hunk nodded. He reached into one of his pockets, withdrawing a small silver key and handing it out for Lance to take.

“Yeah dude, you gave it to me before we left. Said you would misplace it otherwise.”

“Sounds about right,” Keith murmured, and Lance glanced over at him with scoff.

“I told you I didn’t lose it!”

Hunk was laughing, and shook the hand holding the key lightly to get Lance’s attention. Lance took it, suddenly unsure of how he felt about having the capacity for freedom so near.

What if Keith wants to leave...but not with me anymore?

What if, now that we have the key, he just takes off?

Ugh, no. I’m being selfish. If he wants to go then that’s his choice.

Lance smiled at his friend, then over at Shay, before curling his fist around the precious object.

“Thanks buddy,” he said. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Hunk nodded, and then all at once his attention was back on Shay.

Lance gave them their privacy, and without looking at Keith, pulled them away from the pair and back towards the front door.

It was only when they were on the step outside that he finally stopped.

“I-uh…” he sighed, taking the key and swiftly removing the handcuffs. Keith caught them as they sprang open, and glanced up at Lance in confusion. “Well, you can go now, if you want.”

He waited for Keith to leave. To turn tail and run.

But all Lance got in reply was a small click, this time audible in the silence the night provided.

He glanced down in shock, feeling the familiar weight of metal rest easy against his wrist, and then his eyes roamed up to Keith’s face.

“What are you-” he started, but Keith silenced him with a quick kiss to the lips.

“Sorry sir, but you’re under arrest.”

Lance’s breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn’t fight the smile rapidly spreading across his face.

“For what?”

Keith stepped in closer, twining their fingers together and raising one eyebrow as he grinned up at Lance.

“Stealing my heart.”

Lance snorted, pulling Keith in close and beginning the short trek back to his place, now that it was clear the feelings he had been experiencing all night went both ways.

“Wow, great line,” he teased. “Where’d you get it?”

Keith shrugged, pressing himself in tighter to Lance’s side to ward off the autumn chill.

“Just some guy at this party. He handcuffed himself to me like some sort of weirdo.”

“Sounds like a romantic to me,” Lance replied, and heard Keith’s addictive giggles in the reply.

“Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see.”

Lance hummed, swinging his and Keith’s entwined hands between them as they walked.

“You know, I had something very similar happen to me, not too long ago.”

“Oh, really?” Keith asked, voice both innocent and mischievous at the same time.

“Yeah. Small world eh?”

Keith chuckled beside him, and Lance sighed contently after a moment of nothing but the sound of leaves crunching beneath their feet.

“I’m glad it was you Hunk dared me to handcuff.”

“You know what?” Keith asked, pressing himself closer still into Lance’s side as they walked. “Me too.”

Good . Lance thought to himself, leaning back into Keith as his house slowly came into view, bringing with it an entirely new set of potential memories he couldn’t wait to make.

I’m glad.

Because I don't remember where I put the key…