[ NEXT TIME, HE SAYS which lance is wholeheartedly ignoring right now, thanks. there are more important things to be doing than having a gay panic over some distant, hypothetical situation.
such has having one about a current, very real situation, because when was even the last time keith laughed like that?
no no, there's no time for this!! he has to get clean, and get out, so he can curl up in bed and forget this night ever even happened. he's sorry billy, but you must remain a bleak moment in his past now. ]
Just for that, you can get the soap yourself.
[ HMPH. turning back around, lance goes about the sacred ritual of lathering up his hair, counting to three whole minutes while steadily massaging his fingers against his scalp, because self-care is important kids. ]
[Jeeze louise. Lance is the only one freaking out about shower essentials and trying to arrange who gets what and how. It's dark enough...it's fine.
In the middle of Lance's forty-five minute hair lathering technique, Keith's turned around to try and catch water between cupped hands, using whatever he can to rinse at his hair. Lance may've tried to establish a no touching rule, and while the tub's big enough to handle a full grown golden retriever (ish), it isn't that convenient. This isn't the Ritz. He may bump him with an elbow in one of his final collections.]
[ there he'd been, enjoying the comfort and peace of a nice shampoo... warm water running down his back.
and keith once again ruins it by reminding lance that he is very much right there, way too close for comfort.
he throws a glare over his shoulder in response to that, because he so totally doesn't believe you, but in the process part of his head falls under the waterfall, causing a lot of the lather to fall over his face which means—]
[Keith, literally facing the wrong way all the time, elbows all over the place.
He can't discern the glare, but he knows Lance is being shitty in his direction in some form. There's a stern look offered in exchange, it's a Mexican standoff--]
Huh? I didn't hit your eye!
[At least, he doesn't think so, and if he did, that's an incredibly delayed reaction.]
[ he's got his hands pressed up against his eye now, out of reflex, which was honestly a bad idea too because his hands had still been full of lather. ]
Move over, I gotta get under the water—
[ he surges forward, prepared to body check keith aside so he can hold his eye under the water... hope you listened to him. ]
[So, he kinda was prepared to move, but kinda not; he ends up being nudge-pushed a bit, which is marked by a gruff exhale. Forcing Lance to be aware of how annoying he is 24/7.]
What's wrong with it then?!
[Maybe if he didn't spend 15 straight days lathering it up......]
[ look lance doesn't have time to explain how soap + eye is not a good combination, okay, he's got an eye to save here. and he does so by walking right under the spray, tilting his head up and forcing his eye open right where the water hits. eventually the sting from the soap ebbs, even if now his eye is complaining about the pressure from the water. ]
Ahh...
[ he sounds so relieved, it's like he just peed or something. ]
Lance is all fidgety at the edge of his view (see he's not even facing him anymore), and it sounds like he's...fixed whatever happened to his eye. Glad it's not falling out of his skull.]
[ the only kind of quick math lance can do is the kind that conveniences him the most.
but fine, whatever. lance will hand the generic bar soap that he'd bought before, assuming that's the kind keith would use, and pointedly doesn't hand him the body wash bottle that he himself defers to.
[He takes the soap, though it immediately slips upward from his grip. It's caught soundly enough -- trapped between both palms before it can get lost between their feet or knock anyone out cold.
This is why he always wears gloves. The grip.]
Are you already done with it?
[Stupid question as he lathers himself up. Lance probably needs to soap up his entire body, let it sit for 25 minutes...blah blah...Keith's just trying to estimate how much time he's got with the soap.]
[ hence the somewhat floral scent that overtakes the small space. he lathers up quickly enough, and after a few seconds he actually starts to feel human again... except— ]
Hey. Can you get my back...
[ his loufah is all covered in washed-off swamp gunk. ]
Keith literally just uses his hands, scrubbing at his skin here and there, especially where it feels particularly slimy. He's only gone so far, hasn't rinsed off as Lance requests a bit of help...
Hm. So weird. The guy who threatened to not pass the soap to him now needs help. Hm! Looks like there was a point to all of this after all.]
Fine.
[After taking a specific moment to deliberate. He turns, relaters his hands....]
Wait, with your stuff?
[Is his soapbar going to negate all that his body wash's trying to achieve? Whatever it may be.]
speaking of, keith's confusion has lance glancing over his shoulder. thankfully, the path of his vision immediately lands on those relathered hands and not, say, somewhere further south of him. lance blessedly manages to keep his bearings this time. ]
Obviously! Here— [ he half-turns, just long enough to guide those hands under the spray, rinse off that cheap lather, and squeeze a sizeable amount of his own body wash onto said hands. then he's turning back around, presenting his woefully un-lathered back to keith again. ]
Lance can't see his willy because there's a cartoonish cloud of steam keeping him proper and PG. When Lance applies his weird body lotion, Keith just kinda stands like so, palms out, like a child trying to incorrectly accept the Eucharist.]
Are those beads?
[In the body wash. His hands are very slowly lowering, but he's not tending to anyone's back quite yet. He's too fascinated by the perfumey-soapy sludge in his hands.]
[It's like he's using their scientific names. Somehow, he isn't inspired to probe further into what it all means.]
Oh. [Oh. :)] Yeah, just stand straight.
[His fingers are gonna wither from holding into this goop. He's also, meanwhile, acting like this is an incredibly serious thing while also, simultaneously, thinking of how dumb it is for no payoff at all. Keith would only bother with this stuff if it gave him superhuman abilities to morph into a dragon and live in a volcano.]
anyway lance will turn back around and wait an appropriate amount of time... he tries to pay attention to where keith's hands actually roam, but it's a bit hard to without actually seeing it for himself, so eventually he has to glance back just to check. ]
The task's easy; wash Lance's back with the weird plastic things that cannot be bad for the ecosystem at all. After pouring a reasonably even amount into his other palm, so both hands can be used, he'll start at his shoulders, massaging a bit there.]
Your back isn't even dirty.
[Nevermind that they were just submerged in swampass. Visibly, his back looks the normal color it should look. That means there aren't any germs. There may be a film, but at least he looks normal.
Despite the argument he could put up, he goes along his merry way, close to his spine, over his shoulderblades...]
[ it was going all good and well till keith decides to be a little prick (haha) about it, or at least that's lance's story. keith wasn't actually all that bad with it, applying just enough pressure to really get a good lather going, and even give something of a pseudo-massage. but then his hands start to drift towards the middle of his torso, along the sides and— ]
Ah-ta-ta-ta!
[ he seizes up like he's been electrocuted, shoulderblades knitting together like someone had tied some string there and pulled tight. ]
[His reaction's effective in getting Keith to pull away like he'd just touched fire. Maybe he'd been bruised somewhere through all of that ruckus? He hadn't noticed, and is left somewhat wide-eyed, looking between his back and the back of his head...
Son of a bitch.]
I wasn't tickling you?!
[You know how those lesbian pillow fights always start out on redtube dot com? This is exactly like one of those, but replace the girls with boys and the bed with a shower. He's gonna go ahead and jam his forefingers into Lance's side -- both forefingers, both sides.
That's tickling, he'd say, if he knew how to start a proper ticklefight. Fuckin' gay dude.]
[ honestly, does allura invest in ear plugs. she has to.
anyway, this is dangerous business, not just because of the closeness and all of that, but because they're on a very wet surface, where any sudden movement (like, say, jerking in spot because someone suddenly tickles you mercilessly) can lead one to bash their head against the tile, just imagine how bad you'd feel if lance got a concussion, keith, honestly.
lance twists around, making a wild grab for both of those offending fingers because no no, not in his house, mister! ]
[ it always hits lance a little too late. their closeness, the way keith's eyes light up whenever he's feeling particularly good about himself—
lance's hands flex over keith's wrist, and for a moment all he can do is just. stare down but not too down and realize that maybe, right now, naked and slick as they both are, maybe trying to overpower the other boy isn't the best of ideas.
so he swallows around whatever pathetic comeback his mind had attempted to cobble together, and he stammers around a blush instead. ]
Wh-Whatever, man... Hurry and finish up, I can't concentrate with you in here... being all stupid and stuff.
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such has having one about a current, very real situation, because when was even the last time keith laughed like that?
no no, there's no time for this!! he has to get clean, and get out, so he can curl up in bed and forget this night ever even happened. he's sorry billy, but you must remain a bleak moment in his past now. ]
Just for that, you can get the soap yourself.
[ HMPH. turning back around, lance goes about the sacred ritual of lathering up his hair, counting to three whole minutes while steadily massaging his fingers against his scalp, because self-care is important kids. ]
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[Jeeze louise. Lance is the only one freaking out about shower essentials and trying to arrange who gets what and how. It's dark enough...it's fine.
In the middle of Lance's forty-five minute hair lathering technique, Keith's turned around to try and catch water between cupped hands, using whatever he can to rinse at his hair. Lance may've tried to establish a no touching rule, and while the tub's big enough to handle a full grown golden retriever (ish), it isn't that convenient. This isn't the Ritz. He may bump him with an elbow in one of his final collections.]
-- Sorry.
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and keith once again ruins it by reminding lance that he is very much right there, way too close for comfort.
he throws a glare over his shoulder in response to that, because he so totally doesn't believe you, but in the process part of his head falls under the waterfall, causing a lot of the lather to fall over his face which means—]
—ow, my eye!
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He can't discern the glare, but he knows Lance is being shitty in his direction in some form. There's a stern look offered in exchange, it's a Mexican standoff--]
Huh? I didn't hit your eye!
[At least, he doesn't think so, and if he did, that's an incredibly delayed reaction.]
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[ he's got his hands pressed up against his eye now, out of reflex, which was honestly a bad idea too because his hands had still been full of lather. ]
Move over, I gotta get under the water—
[ he surges forward, prepared to body check keith aside so he can hold his eye under the water... hope you listened to him. ]
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What's wrong with it then?!
[Maybe if he didn't spend 15 straight days lathering it up......]
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Ahh...
[ he sounds so relieved, it's like he just peed or something. ]
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Lance is all fidgety at the edge of his view (see he's not even facing him anymore), and it sounds like he's...fixed whatever happened to his eye. Glad it's not falling out of his skull.]
Are you done hogging the water again?
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but hmph. fine. lance will slowly start to inch away from the spray now, frowning over his shoulder. ]
Aren't you almost done? It's been five whole minutes.
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[How can Lance even know with accuracy?! If anything, it's taking him longer because of Lance's presence. He's barely had a fair shot at the water.]
I still need the soap. Are you using it?
[While inching back a bit, occupying the space Lance provided.]
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but fine, whatever. lance will hand the generic bar soap that he'd bought before, assuming that's the kind keith would use, and pointedly doesn't hand him the body wash bottle that he himself defers to.
make sure not to drop the soap...
jk this isn't that kind of game. ]
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This is why he always wears gloves. The grip.]
Are you already done with it?
[Stupid question as he lathers himself up. Lance probably needs to soap up his entire body, let it sit for 25 minutes...blah blah...Keith's just trying to estimate how much time he's got with the soap.]
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[ hence the somewhat floral scent that overtakes the small space. he lathers up quickly enough, and after a few seconds he actually starts to feel human again... except— ]
Hey. Can you get my back...
[ his loufah is all covered in washed-off swamp gunk. ]
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Keith literally just uses his hands, scrubbing at his skin here and there, especially where it feels particularly slimy. He's only gone so far, hasn't rinsed off as Lance requests a bit of help...
Hm. So weird. The guy who threatened to not pass the soap to him now needs help. Hm! Looks like there was a point to all of this after all.]
Fine.
[After taking a specific moment to deliberate. He turns, relaters his hands....]
Wait, with your stuff?
[Is his soapbar going to negate all that his body wash's trying to achieve? Whatever it may be.]
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speaking of, keith's confusion has lance glancing over his shoulder. thankfully, the path of his vision immediately lands on those relathered hands and not, say, somewhere further south of him. lance blessedly manages to keep his bearings this time. ]
Obviously! Here— [ he half-turns, just long enough to guide those hands under the spray, rinse off that cheap lather, and squeeze a sizeable amount of his own body wash onto said hands. then he's turning back around, presenting his woefully un-lathered back to keith again. ]
Okay now go to town.
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Lance can't see his willy because there's a cartoonish cloud of steam keeping him proper and PG. When Lance applies his weird body lotion, Keith just kinda stands like so, palms out, like a child trying to incorrectly accept the Eucharist.]
Are those beads?
[In the body wash. His hands are very slowly lowering, but he's not tending to anyone's back quite yet. He's too fascinated by the perfumey-soapy sludge in his hands.]
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[ of all the things to say???
lance twists back around with an incredulous look, gaze dropping from keith's own incredulous face to his still soapy hands. ]
Yeah, they're for exfoliating. [ a pause. ] They keep your skin from feeling like old withered crap. Are you gonna do this or not?
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Oh. [Oh. :)] Yeah, just stand straight.
[His fingers are gonna wither from holding into this goop. He's also, meanwhile, acting like this is an incredibly serious thing while also, simultaneously, thinking of how dumb it is for no payoff at all. Keith would only bother with this stuff if it gave him superhuman abilities to morph into a dragon and live in a volcano.]
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anyway lance will turn back around and wait an appropriate amount of time... he tries to pay attention to where keith's hands actually roam, but it's a bit hard to without actually seeing it for himself, so eventually he has to glance back just to check. ]
Make sure you don't miss a spot.
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The task's easy; wash Lance's back with the weird plastic things that cannot be bad for the ecosystem at all. After pouring a reasonably even amount into his other palm, so both hands can be used, he'll start at his shoulders, massaging a bit there.]
Your back isn't even dirty.
[Nevermind that they were just submerged in swampass. Visibly, his back looks the normal color it should look. That means there aren't any germs. There may be a film, but at least he looks normal.
Despite the argument he could put up, he goes along his merry way, close to his spine, over his shoulderblades...]
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Ah-ta-ta-ta!
[ he seizes up like he's been electrocuted, shoulderblades knitting together like someone had tied some string there and pulled tight. ]
No tickling! Never any tickling!
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Son of a bitch.]
I wasn't tickling you?!
[You know how those lesbian pillow fights always start out on redtube dot com? This is exactly like one of those, but replace the girls with boys and the bed with a shower. He's gonna go ahead and jam his forefingers into Lance's side -- both forefingers, both sides.
That's tickling, he'd say, if he knew how to start a proper ticklefight. Fuckin' gay dude.]
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[ honestly, does allura invest in ear plugs. she has to.
anyway, this is dangerous business, not just because of the closeness and all of that, but because they're on a very wet surface, where any sudden movement (like, say, jerking in spot because someone suddenly tickles you mercilessly) can lead one to bash their head against the tile, just imagine how bad you'd feel if lance got a concussion, keith, honestly.
lance twists around, making a wild grab for both of those offending fingers because no no, not in his house, mister! ]
I'm gonna kick your butt!!
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You can't kick my butt.
[Is all he counters with as his hands are seized, there's something shit-eating about his expression.]
Not in here or anywhere else.
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lance's hands flex over keith's wrist, and for a moment all he can do is just. stare down but not too down and realize that maybe, right now, naked and slick as they both are, maybe trying to overpower the other boy isn't the best of ideas.
so he swallows around whatever pathetic comeback his mind had attempted to cobble together, and he stammers around a blush instead. ]
Wh-Whatever, man... Hurry and finish up, I can't concentrate with you in here... being all stupid and stuff.
[ ha! take that!!!
...
okay cue one hasty retreat let him live ]
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