WHIPPED BOY
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Summary
"Lance." Keith's voice was warning, one of his eyebrows raised dangerously. His boyfriend looks back at him sheepishly. The desk next to him is a mess, a sewing machine set up with threads hanging from it and papers all over everywhere else. Fabric is draped over the chair, and a few pens are scattered around on the floor. What the fuck could Lance be doing in the middle of the night in October. Keith clenches his jaw, breathing in and out once before speaking again.
"What is this?"
"Er, well, you see. I was just, uh, fooling around! Yeah! Nothing going on here, just me, fooling around with a sewing machine at 1 in the morning! You can go back to bed now!" Lance is a terrible liar, and he knows it. Keith knows it too, and he sees through the poorly put together lie in a matter a seconds.
"Lance, I know that's not the case." He takes a step closer, and Lance takes one back. Lance suddenly lunges across the desk, grabbing a few papers and clutching them so his chest, his face pale. Keith sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Okay, whatever. Just, please go to bed and do what ever this," he motions to the mess next to Lance, "in the morning."
Series
- Part 1 of Tumblr Drabble Prompts