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.
Keith's pretty much done. Super done, if Lance no longer needs him for a backwash. He's rinsing his hands free as soon as Lance does an about-face (was he blushing? whatevs), scrubbing his hands between his stomach and the water spray to wrap the job up faster.
It's less than a minute and he's stepping out of the shower to grab a towel. The closest available one. Probably Lance's designated towel. He's patting over his body, scrubbing his hair with it, but ultimately winding it around his waist and tucking the fabric into itself so it...stays.
[ in the shower lance will remain, though, still facing the wall and the taps, hands pressed flat against the tile...
he waits a full five beats after keith steps out of the area before daring to breathe again, reaching hastily for the knob that turns the water nearly ice-cold because
[By the time Lance overcomes his gay panic, Keith's mostly dry, happy in his pajamas and covered from head to toe under a blanket on the couch, happy to not be dead in a marsh and, instead, trying to figure out who, within his contacts, would care to discuss the large hadron collider creating a shift in reality when it booted up, a la Olympia.]
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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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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...]
no subject
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!
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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!!
no subject
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.
no subject
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 ]
no subject
Keith's pretty much done. Super done, if Lance no longer needs him for a backwash. He's rinsing his hands free as soon as Lance does an about-face (was he blushing? whatevs), scrubbing his hands between his stomach and the water spray to wrap the job up faster.
It's less than a minute and he's stepping out of the shower to grab a towel. The closest available one. Probably Lance's designated towel. He's patting over his body, scrubbing his hair with it, but ultimately winding it around his waist and tucking the fabric into itself so it...stays.
La la la la la.]
no subject
he waits a full five beats after keith steps out of the area before daring to breathe again, reaching hastily for the knob that turns the water nearly ice-cold because
well.
none of your business, that's why!! ]
no subject