Favorite
By: Chaos and Raven

hustle; ogre; glow; eerie

They are on TRL so it is inevitable that will be asked about the Backstreet Boys. Most of the time it's just simple stuff about being compared to each other. Sometimes -- rarely -- they are asked more serious questions like 'how did the Backstreet Boys success help *NSYNC?'. That almost never happens though. It is TRL; they don't expect much.

"So," Carson begins, trying to look serious, "who is your favorite Backstreet Boy?"

Chris chokes back a peal of laughter. "Dude, Nick Carter is a sexy hunk of man."

"Nick? Gross." Justin wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Howie is so much cuter."

"I like AJ," JC says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "He's very vibrant."

"I'm with Chris on this one. Carter all the way." Joey smiles.

"Kevin," Lance says softly. The rest of the guys fall silent and stare at him until he feels he has to explain. "He has like, three facial expressions but you can totally tell what he's trying to express. It's amazing."

There is a two second tic before the guys burst out laughing. They think Lance is joking. He isn't.

Lance has forgotten all about the question when he sees Kevin later that week. He unlocks his car door, preparing to pull out of the Jive parking lot. Kevin pulls into the spot next to him and is out of his car before Lance finishes struggling with his keys.

"Three facial expressions?"

And Lance smiles because even though Kevin looks the same as always, Lance can tell he's torn between amusement and annoyance. "I didn't mean it as a joke. It's something I seriously admire about you."

Kevin shakes his head and walks away. Lance pretends he isn't disappointed.

He mentions it to Joey when they are all hanging out at Lance's house later that day. Joey laughs and calls him a dork. "Dude, you have a crush on the straightest boyband member of all time. Not even Littrell is as straight as Kevin Richardson."

"It's not like that," Lance protests, even though it kind of is.

"He's a total ogre," Chris says as he walks in from the kitchen. "Howie told me he's more anal than you. That's scary." He laughs. "Ha! That would actually be pretty funny. The two most anal-retentive men in the world hook up."

Lance buries his head in his hands. "Shut. Up."

"No, it's cute." JC insists. JC thinks that badgers are cute, though, so Lance doesn't really listen to him.

Justin frowns. "It's whack, yo. That guy has scary ass eyebrows. And yeah, like Lance said, three facial expressions."

"It's not a physical thing," Lance says at the same time JC says, "he has a nice voice."

Lance sinks back into the couch, hunching over himself. Fortunately, Justin turns on the TV and they are all distracted by Dexter's Laboratory.

He thinks that will be the end of it. It might have been except Justin looks through Lance's CD's during a commercial break, and he finds the solitary Backstreet CD that Lance owns. It was a gag gift from Stacy once it became obvious that *NSYNC was there to stay. Justin, however, latches onto that CD like it is proof of God.

"Lance, you fucking traitor," he laughs gleefully, "you have a Backstreet Boys CD!"

"For your sake, I'm going to pretend very, very hard that you aren't laughing at my CD collection, Justin." Lance replies. "There are some things that I've seen on your shelves...."

Justin abruptly stops laughing. He forgets that Lance can bluff his way out of almost any situation. Chris has a speculative smile on his face, and Lance wonders how long Justin's reprieve will last. Either way, the subject drops for the next few days.

Chris brings it up when they are in the studio next. "Hey Lance," he says with a speculative smile. "Do you suppose your boyfriend is going to be here tonight?"

Lance stares at him for a minute. "What boyfrie-- Oh. Chris, shut the hell up."

"Lance and Kevin, sittin' in a tree," Justin sings.

Lance turns to face the center of the room. "The next person that makes a joke about me and Kevin Richardson is going to be castrated with a fork. Y'all have issues like I cannot even comprehend."

Chris snickers wildly but doesn't say anything for the rest of the time they're in the studio. Lance doesn't let his guard down though. Chris attacks when you least expect it. It is a little strange to him that his friends latched onto the most backhanded compliment he has ever dispensed. It's not like they don't ever see the Backstreet Boys -- they do -- but only Chris hangs out with them. Lance would bring it up, but doesn't want to open himself up to more teasing.

He's running late out of the studio. He knows he's late. But Lance forgot his notebook, and then his sunglasses, and his coffee mug. So. At least he has an excuse. He thinks he can imagine Justin and Chris waiting impatiently in the parking lot. Hustle, Bass, he thinks to himself.

He shoves his notebook into his bag which is why he doesn't see Kevin until he bumps into him. Fortunately -- or, y'know, not -- Kevin is three inches taller and solid like your average linebacker. Surprising for someone as slender as he is. Lance's hands grapple on the lapels of Kevin's duster as he tries to find his feet again.

"I usually need a few dates and a lot of alcohol before I let anyone this close to me," Kevin says sardonically.

Lance shuffles nervously and steps away. His face is hot and probably a humiliating shade of crimson. "Yeah, sorry. I left a bunch of stuff in the studio. I'm running a bit late."

Kevin nods encouragingly, his hand hiding a slight smirk.

Lance glares. "Oh, shut up. Like you've never had a bad day."

"It was nice running into you again, Lance. See you around." Kevin finally lets out a laugh as he walks away.

Fucking smug bastard, Lance thinks as he walks away. Kevin is not perfect. Nor does he have a perfect body. If anything, he's too skinny. And a bastard, Lance reminds himself as he forces the heavy doors open. A rat bastard.

JC smiles happily as Lance comes out to the cars. "Did you see Kevin? He just went in."

"Kevin who?" Lance resists the urge to snarl.

"Richardson," JC replies, blissfully unaware that Lance really is on his very last nerve about this particular subject.

"JC..." Joey watches emotions flicker across Lance's face. He can see a meltdown in the making.

"Would you fucking shut up about him?" Lance snaps. "I admired his expressions. Y'all did not give me a hard time when I said I'd like to fuck Wade against the mirrors. If anything was going to indicate that I like a guy, I would think that was it."

"Yeah, but you didn't say it on TRL." Chris points out.

JC shrugs apologetically. "This is less of a sex thing and more of an actually liking him thing."

"Well, knock it the hell off."

It gives him something to think about though. He leans his head against the passenger side window of Joey's car and lets the cool glass chill his forehead. Fucking rat bastard. If Lance had realized what a pain in the ass it was going to be, he would have said Nick Carter. It doesn't help that he may like Kevin more than he originally thought. Three fucking facial expressions. What a thing to say.

Joey drops him off with a sad smile. Lance appreciates the gesture at least. He's not quite sure what to do with the sympathetic understanding that Joey resonates. It's like he's waiting for Lance to get up and grab a clue. Lance is pretty sure he gets it. Pretty sure.

Two weeks later, he decides that just killing them would make all of his problems go away. Recording has gone well, he thinks. Well, ignoring the fact that the rest of his band mates are sixth grade girls. They don't actually bring up Kevin's name around him. If they did, he really would resort to violence. They have developed a psychic awareness of the Backstreet boys though. It's eerie.

The third time Lance gets trapped in the Jive bathroom with Kevin, he decides enough is more than enough.

"So," he says drolly, "are your guys in on it, too? Because I really have doubts about Chris' omnipotence, regardless of what he says."

"I beg your pardon?"

Kevin is perched on the sink counter after thoroughly wiping it down. Lance is trying not to but he can't help staring at the vee of Kevin's legs. His legs are crossed with his ankle on the opposite knee creating a perfect frame. Lance drags his eyes up to meet Kevin's. They are sparkling with amusement. Bastard.

"Every since the uh, TRL thing Chris has been convinced that we need to get freaky, or something."

"Get freaky? Are you quoting song lyrics at me?"

"Yes, and isn't it tragical," Lance replies, deadpan.

Kevin's shoulders shake with laughter and Lance's eyes are drawn to the sloping lines of tapezious muscles where they stretch out from underneath Kevin's shirt. Lance has a ridiculous urge to lick him.

"Quite frankly," Kevin says, still chuckling a little, "I don't think that any of my guys care enough to set me up. Regardless of the premise."

Lance sighs a little, pacing around the room. His shoes click a staccato beat on the tile floor. "They could have locked us somewhere nicer than a bathroom. I mean, even an empty recording booth would be better."

Kevin nods sagely. "Carpet is much more forgiving on the knees."

"You know this from experience?" Lance narrows his eyes. "Or was that a hint?"

"We should go out tonight," Kevin says, ignoring Lance. "Maybe then they'll leave you alone."

Kevin hops gracefully off the sink. He strides over to the door and smacks his palm against it. Loudly. There is a hash click and the door swings loose on its hinges again. Fucking smug bastard, Lance thinks. Kevin smiles as he walks out the door.

"I'll wait for you guys to finish," Kevin says, "then we can go out."

He's gone before Lance can decide if he wants to argue. He doesn't really. He likes Kevin; he wants to go out with Kevin. He doesn't like being out of control or being treated like a girl, though. If Kevin even looks like he's going to hold a door open, Lance is already planning to smack him.

They get out of recording early and Lance has high hopes of avoiding Kevin altogether. Kevin, evidently, has other plans and is waiting in the parking lot. He is sitting in the driver's side of his car with the door open and music playing loudly. Classical music. Lance tightens his jaw and prepares for the eventual beratement from his friends. They don't seem to realize what's going on however, and continue past the blue 4-Runner.

Lance pauses hesitantly next to the open door. "Been waiting long?"

Kevin shrugs. "Long enough to get comfy, not long enough to hold it against you."

"So, what are we doing?"

"Presently?" Kevin is about to go for the obvious joke but decides against it when he catches a glimpse of Lance's face. "I figured dinner. I have an apartment here or we can go back to your place."

Lance fidgets. "Uh, apartment is fine. I don't have much food at the house right now. I'll have to be home by at least eleven," he adds, "so that I can feed the animals."

"How about we stop by the store and then go over to your house?"

Lance shrugs. It's been years since he actually had to work at making a date. It's not the sort of thing he thought he'd ever get bad at. Being famous really only gives him time for cheap sex, though. Lance can't remember the last time he had someone over for dinner -- apart from family -- where it was only dinner.

Kevin nods and shifts in his seat. "After you. I'm not exactly sure where to go."

The grocery store Lance goes to is nice. Most of the staff recognizes him but makes sure to leave him alone. Lance wonders what the addition of a Backstreet Boy to his general vicinity will do.

They pace the aisles, Lance throwing things in that he knows he needs. Every so often, Kevin will add to the cart. It's hard to get a more precise grasp on Kevin's plan than 'Oriental.' And even then, it's only the rice noodles that tip him off.

Lance cooks. Quite well, if his family is to be believed. He doesn't branch out much, though. He has a variety of recipes from the Fatones that have been made once. Not because the food turned out bad, but because calzones are more effort than Lance likes to put into cooking for himself.

As he watches Kevin compare bottles of fish sauce, he can imagine the older man cooking alone. Maybe wearing jeans and an unbuttoned dress shirt. Barefoot on a hardwood floor. Kevin is the sort of person, Lance thinks, that can make homemade cheesecake without a recipe.

They haven't really spoken since they got out of their respective vehicles. Kevin asked if Lance was allergic to anything and if there were any particular foods that he didn't really like. Other than that, it has been companionable silence.

The clerk looks up in surprise as she rings up their food. It is, Lance muses as he takes out his Visa card, a little peculiar to see two members of opposing bands grocery shopping. Domestic. He swallows a hysterical laugh. Not even an hour into their first date and it's already domestic.

After they unload the food, Lance goes through the house and opens curtains and windows. The sun is setting and the air outside is nice and cool. He lets Dirk out on his way upstairs. The ferret scrambles into the living room and hides under the sofa.

Kevin is already maneuvering his way through Lance's cupboards. There is a pile of mismatched food and dishes on the counter. Lance can't even begin to imagine what it's going to be once it is finished. He smiles and sits on one of the stools opposite Kevin.

"Do you need help with anything?" He asks.

"Nope." Kevin shakes his head. "A little music would be nice though."

"Yeah. Okay. Anything in particular? I have, um, lot's of stuff."

"Something mellow." Kevin replies. "Surprise me."

Lance finds a Bach CD, something JC gave him for Christmas years ago. He doesn't listen to it very often but he thinks that Kevin will appreciate it. He's seen concert footage with Kevin at the piano. He knows it's a passion.

Kevin smiles at him when he returns to the kitchen. There is a bowl filled with noodles and Kevin has a pan already filled with sautéing garlic. "Good choice. Piano concerto in D minor."

Lance shrugs. "Is it? I just remember the piano bits and thought that you'd like it."

He pours the noodles into the pan and pushes them around with a wooden spoon. "You were right."

Lance watches Kevin cook. He moves fluidly, like he's dancing. Every dish is in the exact place Kevin needs it to be. He picks up one dumps it into the pan and replaces it, moving carefully around. He is humming, Lance realizes. Harmonizing with the gentle piano playing in the background. Singing and dancing, albeit much more softly than the way he does in public.

His performance ends when he finally dumps the stir-fry onto plates. Lance is disappointed. Kevin squeezes a wedge of lime over the plates and hands one to Lance.

"Phat thai," Kevin says. "Where are we eating?"

"Mm, out on the patio. It's nice out."

Lance pours them each a glass of wine and follows Kevin out the sliding glass doors. The exterior lights are on, shining warmly around the yard. They sit with the plates balanced on their knees and watch the water shifting in the pool. The faint strains of music drift through the open windows.

"I get the feeling that if I share this date with Chris, he's just going to get worse," Lance says.

Kevin looks up, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Why's that?"

Lance gestures with his arm. "This is all... romantic, and stuff. The whole reason Chris was being such a pain in the ass is--" Lance stops, his face flushing.

"Is?" Kevin prompts.

"He thinks there's more to it than, um, lust. Or something."

Kevin laughs; a deep throaty rumble that Lance feels in his toes. "So we should have skipped dinner for mindless sex? Though, you could just tell him that dinner helped us keep our strength up."

"Uhm, sure?"

"You could also lie," Kevin says.

Lance frowns. "I don't-- Well, sometimes, but not to them."

He looks down at his plate. "Well, I'm done. Sex?"

Lance chokes on his noodles. "What? Now!?"

"Aren't you finished eating?"

"But--?" Lance is suddenly very confused.

"Yeah, it's not exactly classy. I figured it was better than dancing around for the rest of the night. Plus, sex."

He's still a little shocked. Kevin does not seem like the sort for mindless sex. Or random propositions. Lance gathers up their plates though. He scrapes the stray bean sprouts and green onions into the garbage disposal and puts the dishes in the sink. Kevin is leaning casually against the counter, watching him.

It doesn't help that Kevin is long and lean and dark. He has broad shoulders that slant down to his perfect, slim waist. His charcoal gray slacks are nicely fitted and hang loosely on his long legs. Lance wipes his hands on a dish towel and looks up. Kevin is looking at him, the same expression as always on his face, and Lance feels a little weak in the knees. Because god damn if he doesn't look perfect.

"Um, bedroom?"

"Sounds good to me," Kevin says. He pushes off the counter and takes a step towards Lance. He slides one hand around Lance and palms his lower back. "Where is it?" He asks.

His breath is warm on Lance's lips. Lance pushes his head up the necessary three inches and seals their mouths together. It's a slow, sweet kiss with lots of tongue and Lance just melts against Kevin because he, at least, still seems to have some control over his legs.

"Mm, upstairs," Lance says a little breathlessly.

Kevin releases Lance who stumbles a little before walking out of the kitchen to the stairs. Kevin is directly behind him, his hand a steadying presence on Lance's back. Lance is trying not to run up the stairs. He thinks he ought to maintain some modicum of dignity. At the top of the stairs, Kevin moves in even closer; sliding his hands along Lance's hips.

Lance shivers and stills under Kevin's fingers. He wonders if Kevin would mind doing it right there, in the hall.

"Which one?" Kevin asks. He brushes his lips against the side of Lance's neck.

Quickly pulling away, Lance takes Kevin by the hand and leads him down the hall. He flicks on the light switch and grimaces. Not that he can't have sex with the light on. It's just so... sterile. He goes over to the bed and turns on the lamp on his night stand. Kevin is still standing in the doorway. Watching.

"Would you, uh--" Lance gestures at the wall next to Kevin.

He flicks the switch and instead of the harsh light from the ceiling the room is bathed in a warm yellow glow. Kevin advances slowly, stripping off his shirt as Lance watches. Lance shivers imperceptibly. Kevin is perfectly chiseled -- Lance did know this -- with miles and miles of smooth golden skin. His nipples are flat, dark circles that stand out in stark contrast. Lance is struck with a renewed desire to lick him.

He steps forward a little, shrugging out of his T-shirt and thumbing the button on his jeans. Kevin is staring back, Lance finally notices. His dark green eyes are a little darker than normal. Lance reaches out, trailing the tips of his fingers over Kevin's washboard stomach. He lingers a little around the bellybutton before dragging his hands up to tweak Kevin's nipples. Kevin lets out a gasp of surprise and is stirred into motion.

Lance involuntarily leans forward as Kevin strokes his warm palms up and down Lance's back. The room is warm but it's nothing compared to the searing heat Lance feels at Kevin's touch. His wandering fingers have found Kevin's neck and Lance pulls him down into another kiss. Kevin hungrily reciprocates, his own hands coming up to frame Lance's face. His thumbs trace Lance's cheekbones and the hollows under his eyes as he thoroughly explores Lance's mouth.

Kevin thrusts forward a little as Lance fingers his way between their bodies to Kevin's zipper. Lance steadies his hands against Kevin's hip bones and slides his thumbs under the waistband of Kevin's boxers, pulling them down with the slacks.

Despite how excessively unsexy it is to remove pants while standing, Kevin manages to slip out of his with surprising grace. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls off his socks while Lance removes jeans. He is far less successful. The look Kevin sends him is encouraging, however. As is the impressive erection jutting out from the dark curls surrounding his groin.

Lance slides to the floor in front of Kevin without thinking. He places his hands on Kevin's knees and pushes them apart; insinuating himself between Kevin's outspread legs. He faintly hears Kevin's shocked gasp as Lance's tongue dips against the soft skin of his inner thigh. On the opposite leg, Lance trails one hand up, kneading Kevin's tensing quads. He feels Kevin shift beneath him and looks up briefly.

Oh.

My.

Hot.

Is as much as Lance's brain can handle. Kevin has dropped to his elbows. His back arches, drawing his muscles taut. His eyes are closed, dark lashes brushing against his cheeks, and his mouth is open in silent exclamation. Lance needs him. Something.

Kevin whimpers, his lashes fluttering. Lance shifts his gaze back to his task. He applies careful suction to the crease of Kevin's leg, tracing it up to his hip. He licks long stokes up Kevin's abs and around his bellybutton. His hand is following at a much more leisurely pace and stops to wrap briefly around Kevin's cock. Kevin hums, low and happy.

Kevin drops completely flush against the bed. His hands come up to twine in Lance's hair. Lance mumbles his encouragement against Kevin's nipples. He teases them to sharp points, pinching and pulling almost cruelly. Kevin only arches up against Lance, his erection brushing Lance's stomach.

"Come," Kevin says softly, "come up here."

Lance pushes himself up and forward until he and Kevin are face to face. Kevin reaches up and brushes his fingers across Lance's mouth.

"This is-- Wow." His eyes crinkle briefly in a smile. "You have a very nice mouth."

Lance blushes. And then blushes more when he realizes what he's done. "It's ah, thank you."

Kevin is still halfway off the bed; his legs bent at the knee. Lance isn't much better in the way he is leaning precariously over. Kevin shimmies up the mattress, pushing against it with his hands to gain leverage. Lance laughs a little and climbs over on top of him, situating the pillows so they cradle Kevin's head.

Lance straddles him. He can feel the hard length of Kevin's cock where it bumps against his ass. Lance slides his legs open even further as Kevin reaches up to massage his thighs. He tips forward onto his arms when Kevin begins to slowly jerk him off. Kevin's other hand slides up his back and into his hair, pulling him down so they are sharing air. Lance wants to say something sexy but talking dirty has never been his strong point. Kevin doesn't seem to mind his incoherent moaning.

If he thought it would be possible to balance on one arm, Lance would reciprocate Kevin's actions. He tells Kevin this and earns a laugh in response.

"If you find a way to reciprocate, I'm not doing it right."

The finger that slides up behind him is a surprise though. Lance didn't notice that Kevin let go of his hair. Kevin teases him, rubbing gently and dipping the tip of his index finger into Lance's opening. Lance gasps, slipping forward. He thrusts his tongue into Kevin's mouth, kissing him enthusiastically. Kevin allows it for a minute before turning his head away.

"We need-- Lance! Oh my... Lube. We need lube!" Kevin manages to gasp out between kisses.

"It's--" Lance stills abruptly. "It's in the dresser across the room." He doesn't make any move to get off of Kevin though.

Kevin retracts his hands and gives Lance a little push. "Go on."

Lance drops one more hesitant kiss on the side of Kevin's mouth and then slides onto the floor. His legs honestly don't feel like they will support his weight and his body is still thrumming. He's completely graceless as he walks across the room to his dresser. On the bed, Kevin is laughing a little.

"You have no room to talk," Lance said, digging into the drawer. "I don't see you walking."

He walks back over to the bed, trying to exude more confidence than he feels. The fact that Kevin is staring at him with rapt attention helps. He wouldn't have thought so. Being the center of undivided attention is disconcerting, even when you're used to it. Kevin looks enthralled, though. Like Lance could trip and fall and Kevin would still think Lance was being sexy. It's very helpful to his ego.

He slides onto the bed again, leaning over to kiss Kevin softly. Kevin fits his thumbs under Lance's hips and hauls Lance back on top of him. Laughing, Lance drops the lubricant and condoms in Kevin's outstretched hand. He stretches out, spreading his legs to straddle Kevin's waist again. He tentatively leans forward and nuzzles the side of Kevin's face, kissing up along his jaw. Kevin makes an appreciative noise and melts further into the pillows.

Kevin's arms twine around Lance's middle. Lance shudders a little in anticipation when he hears the bottle click open and then shut again. Kevin drops his arms from the loose embrace and trails one hand up the back of Lance's thigh. Lance gasps when Kevin's other hand slips up and one of his fingers slides fluidly inside.

"Jesus fucking-- Warn a guy!"

Kevin chuckles deeply. He thrusts his finger in and out, watching in awed fascination as Lance pushes back to meet every stroke. Lance has his eyes closed and his mouth is open just wide enough to allow harsh gasps to escape. Kevin has long pianist's fingers but they are by no means delicate.

When the second finger breaches him, Lance stills completely above Kevin. His arms are braced above Kevin's head, legs spread over his pelvis, and his back arched so they are nearly touching chest to chest. Lance hears Kevin suck in a shallow breath and expel it harshly. He eases backwards, encouraging Kevin deeper. His eyes snap open when he feels something brush against his lips. Kevin is staring at him with something akin to adoration. His thumb gently presses against the pout of Lance's lips.

"You are amazing," Kevin whispers. "Beautiful."

Lance whimpers. His hips are moving unconsciously in time with Kevin's gentle probing. Kevin's eyes lock on him and Lance can't bring himself to look away. He feels a little wanton now. Needy. Slutty. But Kevin is staring at him in rapt fascination, breathing into his mouth to swallow Lance's quiet moans. His deft fingers press against Lance's prostate eliciting a harsh cry.

"How much longer?" Kevin murmurs against Lance's skin.

Lance blinks, his eyes unfocused and blurry. "Now?" It comes out a question which isn't at all how he means it. "Let me-- Now."

He pushes up a little on his arms, reaching for the condom Kevin discarded earlier. Kevin's fingers slip free leaving Lance feeling bereft. He takes the condom from Lance and scrabbles around for the bottle of lube.

Lance leans down and sucks Kevin's tongue into his mouth. His arms shake as they strain to hold him upright. Lance feels Kevin's hands against his stomach, fumbling with the condom and lube in his haste. Slick fingers enter him again quickly, scissoring and twisting. Lance thrusts back hard.

He's ready. He's been ready.

Kevin pulls his hand from between Lance's legs and puts it on his hip as a steadying presence. Lance shifts off his arms, sitting up on his knees. He reaches behind himself and finds Kevin's erection; latex covered and slick with lubricant. Cautiously, he slides back. His face clenches in concentration as Kevin's sheathed erection breaches his entrance. His eyes snap open, and he lets out a breathy moan once he's fully seated.

Kevin rubs his hands along Lance's hips. His pupils are dilated and his face flushed. His lips part slightly. Kevin shifts uneasily, his hands kneading against Lance's thighs. Lance takes the hint and slides forward. Kevin grips him hard and pulls back. They establish a steady rhythm, Lance lifting up and Kevin slamming him home. Kissing would be nice but is impossible from that angle. Lance settles for harsh cries and nonsense words.

It's been a long time since he's been fucked long and hard like this. Kevin seems to know just what Lance wants, adjusting their movement to suit him. He's not holding back either. Not trying to wring Lance's orgasm from him. Just faster, more, whenever he senses Lance needs it.

The room is almost silent. Lance's breathing sounds loud in his own ears, but he's had years of muting his pleasure because of too thin walls and shared accommodations. The slick sound of flesh on flesh is almost comical in its pervasive echo. His laugh comes out a stilted groan as Kevin pushes against his prostate.

Lance feels his muscles tense but doesn't have time to do more than gasp out his completion before spilling his seed between them. Kevin thrusts hard, Lance shivering and sensitized above him, before shuddering out his own release.

Lance collapses, his head in Kevin's neck, and just breathes. Kevin's arms encircle him gently, stroking his back and waiting for the tremors to stop.

"Wow. Oh. Wow," Lance says when he can talk again. "We should do that a lot. Again. As soon as I can move."

Kevin laughs. His voice is a little husky. "So much for deflecting the harassment."

"Are you kidding? I can tell them that we're having wild hot monkey sex. I just didn't want them to think I like you."

"You dork, Bass. The entire world knows I'm your favorite."